#I have plenty of stories trapped inside my head

[6gmrnv3hin]

The hardest thing for me as a writer is being my own boss.

I need to set my own deadlines, arrange my schedule, scold myself if I fail to follow the schedule, all while writing and planning a story that I'm terrified I'll never finish.

[just-jordie-things]

let the light in - ryomen sukuna

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 15.5k warnings: mentions of fighting and injuries, reader has a cursed technique but i don't describe it bc i'm lazy, she's actually pretty weak in this ngl i needed her to be a bit of a damsel in distress. sukuna is pretty out of character but he has to be. also sukuna can take control of yuji's body when he's asleep bc i decided so ok it's my first time writing for him so bare with me. summary: reincarnation!au with a twist. in every life sukuna finds you in, he has to remind you of who you once were- and who you once were to each other. it's a burden, but it's one he's carried for centuries and he wouldn't have it any other way. more info: slowburn enemies to ?? to lovers, sukuna is hopelessly in love with reader its very fun ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ ooh let the light in // at your back door yelling cause i wanna come in // ooh turn your light on // look at us, you and i back at it again ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Finding her in this life was the first thing on his mind as soon as his consciousness was manifested.  Just like every era before this one, she’s always his first thought.

The second thought was- what the fuck? 

In all of his centuries walking this earth, he’d never been quite out of body like this.  As in, in a completely different body from his own.  And much to his displeasure, he’d manifested inside of some brat jujutsu sorcerer that was a bit too strong for his own good.  No worries, though, after they tracked down a few more of his cursed fingers he’d be able to take proper control and Itadori Yuji would cease to exist as soon as Sukuna regained his full strength.

So for some time, he played nice.  Or, as nice as he could, that was.  He sat back in his domain and waited.  He’d never been one with a strong sense of patience- he may have been a man once but he was a curse now- but if it meant strengthening his chances in being reunited with her sooner, then he would play the long game.  Besides, he could have some fun torturing the brat and his friends for a little while, right? No harm in some chaos and carnage along the way.  He would need good stories to tell her when they were together again, anyways.

There were times where the brat began to wonder what it was Sukuna was doing there, quietly tucked into his domain.  On the rare occasion that he didn’t rear his head into conversation with a nasty comment coming from a mouth materialized on his cheek or the back of his hand.  Times passed where Yuji would cringe awaiting Sukuna’s inevitable filth, but instead he was gifted with silence from the curse inhabiting him.  The young sorcerer could only assume that this meant he was doing something else- but what? What could he possibly occupy himself with while trapped in his own domain? Some days Yuji worried he was plotting something, but others he wondered if the King of Curses was just lost in thought.  Did he daydream?

Sukuna wouldn’t call it that, but if anyone were able to catch him in the act, they’d know it was exactly that.  All he could do with his time is imagine how he’d reunite with her in this life.  It was one of his favorite parts of each new century or so, and after hundreds of lifetimes, there were plenty of memories to keep himself occupied with.

This time he knew he’d have to outdo himself, seeing as he was in an unfamiliar body, and he could only hope that she liked this one as much as the last.  Perhaps the next time he took control of it he’d make sure everything was up to standard- he couldn’t have her rejecting him just because he was in some brat’s body this time.  On the other hand, he knew her to be more playful and experimental than he was, so maybe she’d find a change in host exciting.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

To his delight, Sukuna is reunited with the great love of his life sooner than expected.  To his great displeasure, it’s at exactly the wrong time.

He’d been irritated enough having his brat vessel tap out just because he couldn’t take on a measly little Special Grade.  Of course, he wasn’t about to appease some righteous jujutsu sorcerer’s agenda by exorcizing the curse himself.  But in the end, the curse disappointed him too, thinking that it could pick a fight with the King of Curses and come out of it alive.

Pride outweighed vengeance, and he found himself entertained with playing with the Special Grade.  Playing, because of course it’s abilities were weak compared to real jujutsu, unlike the childish display the brat had put up first.

He’s so drawn in by his play fight with the curse that he’d completely missed her- that is until he’s using his Domain Expansion, and from the corner of one of his eyes he finally notices.

While it’s a shock that he’s managed to let the great love of his life go unnoticed, she isn’t exactly… conscious.

The special grade is sliced diced and forgotten, barely even a blip in Sukuna’s memory now once he recognizes the slumped over body on a pile of rubble a few hundred feet away.  He’s delighted, ecstatic even.  The bloodthirsty grin on his face is replaced by a beam of pure thrill.  He’d previously thought it might take years to find her in this life, so to stumble across her now, after getting control of this body over a mere pest, was a real treat.

He approaches her limp body so quickly he’s practically teleported to her, and his beam begins to falter as he takes in her current state.

It’s not a matter of worry that she’s fairly beat up and knocked unconscious so hard there’s soft snores between heavy breaths, her mortal body working overtime to keep her alive at all- it was nothing a quick use of his Reverse Cursed Technique couldn’t fix.

The wince of disgust that contorts his features is directed solely at her attire.  

Crisp black button up torn open to reveal the same shade of undershirt snugly fitting her underneath, paired with pants of the same material.  He didn’t need to see the crest at the collar of her shirt to give him further context as to what she was up to in this century.

“Of course,” He utters through his snarl as he crouches down towards her, hands glowing as he promptly heals her wounds.  She doesn’t awaken, her body growing even more exhausted after being put through the technique, but her muscles do appear to relax as she slumps further into the dirty ground.  “You would be a sorcerer in this lifetime.  Idiot,” 

The cruel name falls from his lips with nothing but melted affection.  No other person on this earth would be allowed to hear him speak this way and live to tell the tale.  It was reserved only for her- and she wasn’t even awake to hear it now.

With steady hands Sukuna gathers her in his arms, trying to bend her into a more comfortable position.  She doesn’t wince or complain when bruised limbs drag across broken slabs of concrete.  If he wasn’t able to hear the steady beat of her heart, she would have easily been mistaken for dead already.

“A shitty reunion this time around, I’m afraid,” 

Sukuna sighs before he sits fully on the ground.  He’s not sure how much longer he’d be in control of this body, but any thoughts of fleeing to bring as much destruction to Tokyo is far from his mind.  He wants nothing more than to sit here with his lover and hope that she’d wake back up before he’s dragged back into his domain.

With one arm wrapped under her shoulders to keep her limp body closely tucked to him, his free hand brushes the messy strands of hair away from her resting face.  She looks peaceful, even though when she wakes she’d still carry the aches of her healed injuries.  The tips of his fingers linger over her soft cheek as he admires her.

“Just as beautiful in this life as you were in every one before it, my love,” He murmurs, so quiet that even if she were conscious enough to hear it, she probably wouldn’t have.

He only gets a few moments of peace with her before he can feel a stir from inside of him, and he can faintly make out Yuji gaining his consciousness back.  He snarls in his aggravation, wishing he could knock the brat out so he could get just a little more time with his long lost love, even if she wasn’t her usual lively self.

“Come, we have things to do” He tells her, before he pulls her closer and lifts her up.  

He makes his way out of the destroyed building with leisure, knowing that the other sorcerer, Fushiguro, would be waiting outside for a fight.  It wasn’t in his plans to end the kid’s life just yet, but with the reunion of his one true love coming prematurely, things might have to change.  Oh well, he was flexible.

She fusses in his arms upon the lift, but even with her pinching brows and twitching eyelids, she never quite wakes up.  Which was alright, they would have plenty of time to properly catch up in a bit.  Sukuna had other things to handle first.

It would be some time still before she properly met the King of Curses face to face- in this life anyways- as shortly after his departure of the ruined building, he would have to set her aside to take care of a few of the weaker level shikigamis that the Fushiguro kid sent his way.  After ripping the brat’s heart out of their shared chest, it would be a few weeks before things seemingly transitioned back to normal.

When (y/n) would finally come to in the infirmary a few hours after it all went down, Megumi would relay how the King of Curses had carried her out in his arms.  She’d give him a bitter laugh, thinking he was trying to lighten the mood after the news of the death of their friend.  But Megumi wasn’t usually very good at telling jokes, and after seeing his grave expression stay put, her face would fall.

“You’re serious?” 

Megumi nods, the thin line of his lips unwavering.

(y/n) blinks a few times as she processes it slowly.  She’s still not sure that she believes him, but she doesn’t have a reason not to either.  If Gojo had told her this she’d have rolled her eyes, and maybe called him insensitive and unserious, but why would Megumi make something like that up? 

“I don’t understand,” She tells him with a furrowed brow, and the way Megumi shrugs one shoulder unenthusiastically tells her he didn’t understand it any better than she did.  “You’re telling me he saved me?” 

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Megumi replies dryly.  He should’ve known she’d ask him questions he clearly didn’t have the answers for, so he tried to provide her with what he did know so that maybe she wouldn’t torment him with more of her own questions.  “But he brought you out, and set you down somewhere with your head propped up, and he didn’t try to attack you at all.  At least, it looked like he didn’t” 

Her tongue darts over the dryness of her bottom lip as her jaw hangs open at him.  She doesn’t bother him with more useless questions, but that doesn’t mean the whole ordeal wasn’t plaguing her mind.

Something was very strange about that behavior.  But with Yuji gone, she figured it was no use trying to decipher it all anyways.  Maybe after some time when her grief wears off into something she could live with, she could forget about it completely. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

With Yuji turning out to be alive and well, Sukuna’s plans shifted once more.  He’d tortured him as best he could without the ability of taking control of the body, letting his friend be turned into a transfigured human, refusing to kill the spirit that called itself Mahito- as upsetting as it was to his brat vessel, Sukuna cared very little for such trivial events.  In fact, if Yuji were to shut up about it, he probably could have forgotten completely.  He only had one goal on his mind- to return to her again.  Anything else was merely a stepping stone along the way.

Just as before, Sukuna spends most of his time in his domain without much noise.  Except this time, Yuji starts to get an inkling of what he’s doing.

“It’s unbecoming and submissive of you to pretend to be dead,” 

Sukuna taunts one day while Yuji’s working on his ‘training’ on Gojo’s couch while he invests himself with a romantic movie.  His sudden appearance was a good test to his abilities, though, as the sleeping cursed puppet on Yuji’s lap doesn’t stir.  It was safe to say that Yuji had gotten as used to sharing his body with the curse as he was going to get.

“What if your little sorcerer friends need you?” Sukuna chuckles.  He quite enjoys the image of Fushiguro and the little red-headed girl struggling to keep up with mere Second Grade curses.  

“They’re fine” Yuji replies casually, barely paying attention to the mouth on his face that wasn’t his.  The movie was just getting good, after all.

“You think they can manage to hold their own?” Sukuna scoffs at the thought.  “With half-assed cursed techniques like theirs?” 

“Fushiguro and Kugisaki are the most cutthroat people I’ve ever known.  Didn’t Fushiguro almost kick your ass?” Yuji mutters, more irritated than offended by Sukuna’s cruelty.  “You’re just lucky you haven’t had to deal with (y/l/n)” 

So is that what she was calling herself this time? Sukuna’s lips tilt into a smirk.

“She doesn’t seem like much to be afraid of,” The words themselves are harsh, but something in his tone changes.  Enough that Yuji starts to lose focus on the television.  “Last I saw her she was half dead.  If it weren’t for me, she would have been dead-dead” 

That finally catches Yuji’s full attention, and he misses the next few lines of the movie when he asks, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Sukuna’s silent, thoughtfully so, as he tries to find just the right way to play his cards.  Does he use his history with the brat’s friend as a scare tactic? Or does he keep that little fact to himself for a while longer? Either way, the longer he’s silent, the more Yuji begins to go stir crazy.

“Hey, you old curse!” He hollers suddenly, causing the cursed puppet in his lap to wake up and start to get aggressive.  Yuji heaves as the tiny thing rears a heavy punch into his gut, but it doesn’t stop him from interrogating the curse inside of him.  “What did you mean by that!?” He huffs out.

Sukuna chuckles, and just as quickly as he’d appeared on Yuuji’s cheek, he disappeared again, hiding away in his domain and entertaining himself with the sight of Yuji getting beat up by a little cursed teddy bear.

Perhaps he’d let the brat overthink for a little while longer, anxiety was a form of suffering after all, wasn’t it? At least watching the brat worry himself sick about it would provide him some amusement for the coming days.  Until the sanction of his fake death is lifted, and he could go back to his goal of being reunited with his love.  

(y/l/n).  Her new surname rings in his head as he settles in his domain and lets his mind begin to wander again.  As pretty as it was, he’d have to return it to the proper name.  His name.

Yuji is attacked by Yaga’s cursed puppet a few more times that evening, but not due to the film changing his range of emotions.  In fact, it was due to his complete lack of focus on the movie.  All he could think about was what business Sukuna could possibly have with (y/n).

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When he makes his surprise reappearance for his friends, Yuji debates on pulling (y/n) aside and asking her about what Sukuna had mentioned.  But for all he knew, he very well could have been toying with him, and ultimately he decided to enjoy what little time he had to catch up with his friends before they dove into the Exchange Event.  It just didn’t seem worth bringing up at this time.

But for some reason, when she takes her seat as the Tokyo students begin their planning, Yuji’s compelled to sit beside her.  It’s not an odd choice, it’s not out of character for him, she is his friend after all, but he’s quite aware of the way his feet move on their own accord to carry him to the empty seat beside her.  Yuji knows his body, and he knows he wasn’t the one commanding it to do that.

It makes him gulp when he unceremoniously plops into the seat.  (y/n) gives him a look, something crossed between confusion and amusement, but she brushes it off and doesn’t say a word as she shifts her focus back to Maki.  Yuji tries to ignore it as well, a bit embarrassed about the whole display.  Was that really Sukuna? He tried to clear his mind, too, it was quite important that he took in everything Maki was saying, but his mind is wrapped up in whatever game the King of Curses was playing right now.

And finally, when he thinks he’s heard enough of the game plan for the event, he feels it.

The slit under his right eye opens, the side facing (y/n).  Yuji holds his breath, hoping that Sukuna doesn’t open his loud mouth and bark out something insulting, but he doesn’t.  His mouth never materializes.  He simply stares.

It’s almost worse.

A few minutes pass and no one seems to notice, as the attention of the room is still commanded by Maki.  Except for Yuji himself, as he’d stopped listening to her altogether while he anxiously awaited whatever was to come next.  What was he doing? He began to bounce his leg.

His throat closes up when he sees (y/n) turn her head out of the corner of his eye.  He doesn’t meet her gaze, even though she’s clearly staring at him- or Sukuna, he supposes- but she doesn’t speak up.  She’s just as silent as the curse he’s hosting.  Still, her gaze remains on the dark eye peeking out at her.  If they weren’t in a room with all of their peers, Yuji would’ve broken his ignorant demeanor by now, but something inside him tells him to keep his mouth shut.

When the group disbanded for a quick lunch before the event officially started, (y/n) remained seated while the others filtered out, and when Yuji began to stand, she stopped him.  All she’s done is reach a hand out, she barely even touches his arm, but it’s enough for him to stop in his tracks, and he stays put in his seat.

They don’t say anything until the room is empty, and even then, (y/n) chooses to speak quietly, almost under her breath.

“What the hell is going on with…” She pauses, her eyes flickering between Yuji’s and the ones below, before she raises her hand in a small gesture.  “Him?” She mumbles it so low, afraid that saying his name would be enough to summon him, even though he’s so clearly already there before her.

“I don’t-” 

Yuji starts, but before he could say anything- or think of anything to say- Sukuna’s mouth is materializing on his cheek.  It’s an unsettling feeling on its own, but Yuji always felt a certain chill on his spine whenever he’d feel that mouth forming a smile.

“Just missed lookin’ at you, sweetheart” 

Yuji’s face is sickly pale in a matter of seconds, the fear that settles over him tenses up all of his muscles, to the point they ache, and as much as he wants to remove himself (and Sukuna) from this situation, he’s frozen in place.  Too stunned to say anything, too stunned to move, he just stands there helplessly as (y/n’s) wide eyes dart between both pairs on his face.

(y/n’s) reaction comes first, the shocked expression wearing off into something else.  Yuji can’t place what it is- anger, disgust- but she loses the desire to keep the conversation quiet as reality settles over her.

“What!?” It comes out in a screech, but it’s just as quickly followed by absolute rambling.  “What the hell are you talking about? What the hell is he talking about?” She awkwardly shifts her gaze between both sets of eyes, unsure and unfamiliar with how to communicate with the both of them.

“I- I don’t-” 

Again, Yuji’s interrupted before he can come up with anything.

“We still have all the time in the world, for now you just keep your pretty little head focused on this game of yours, hm?” 

Just like that, the fanged mouth is disappearing and Yuji’s cheek is returned to it’s normal state again.

(y/n) blinks, going silent again while her face is flushing with color.  Now her eyes seem to focus on the lower, darker pair of eyes.  It’s hard to gauge what Sukuna is thinking, or feeling.  With only a narrowed set of eyes to go off of, not to mention he’s a reckless curse, he’s not a man, she doesn’t know what to make of the interaction.

But with the memory of what Megumi had told her, a dread begins to weigh down her chest.  Whatever this behavior was about, it couldn’t mean anything could.  It was unwanted attention, that was for sure.  No matter how warm her face felt, or how nervous she suddenly was just being around Yuji.

Soon enough the eyes shut too, but even though it appears it’s only her and Yuji in the room, she can still feel Sukuna’s presence.  She swallows the lump in her throat like it’s lead.

“Let’s just…” Her eyes flit away from the closed lids, meeting Yuji’s warm but worried gaze again.  She’s not sure if it’s a comfort or not that he seems just as anxious as she feels.  “Let’s just get through the Exchange Event first” She suggests.

She’s sure that this is the right choice of action.  There was simply no time to dwell on Sukuna’s out of character behavior- then again she didn’t know him, she didn’t know what was in character, he was a curse!- not with all of their peers relying on them to secure the win for the Tokyo Prefecture.

Although she couldn’t deny her head wasn’t exactly in the game during the event.  When she finds herself getting sloppy, taking hits she normally should have been able to dodge, she begins to curse the King of Curses himself.  Surely this whole thing was an act, that was what he was best at, wasn’t it? Torture? Mind games? He was probably laughing it up in his domain watching her struggle so miserably at an event she couldn’t have been more prepared for.

When shit really hit the fan and curses and curse users reared their ugly heads in the middle of a semi-light hearted game, it dawned on her just how out of it she’d really become.  Suddenly it didn’t matter how Mai shouldn’t have been able to get that shot at her shoulder- or how she should’ve seen Miwa’s Domain Expansion coming.  There was no way she was going to let a curse like him get in her head and keep her from protecting her friends and herself from a real threat.

And once this attack in the middle of their event was taken care of and the scores were settled, she’d find a way to give the King of Curses a piece of her mind.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

That time came sooner than expected, and it’s seemingly out of nowhere when he pays her a little visit.

Deep down she knows that she should be terrified when the King of Curses is at her door requesting her time for ‘a talk’ as he called it.  A thousand questions should flood her mind, and after some time they’ll begin to register, slowly and one by one, far later than it’s appropriate to ask.

He’d gotten her alone, and this should terrify her further, she should feel like a lamb in the presence of a wolf- no- curse.  But for some reason, when he enters the training room she’d been doing warm ups in, all she does is stare at him.

Sukuna knows that there’s no way she could have mistaken him for the brat, not with all of his markings, not with his vermillion eyes, not with the abundant amount of cursed energy he carried with him.  Any other mortal would straighten up, freeze in place and stare at him in utter fear as they waited for whatever fate he bestowed upon them.

Not her.

Foolishly, he believes this is due to the lifetimes they’d spent together before this one.  Even though he’s well aware of the rules of the courtship.  He recalls many meetings before this one where he’d had to open her eyes to the Binding Vow that brought her back in every lifetime.  Still, he naively held onto a hope that her lack of reaction to his presence now is because somewhere inside of her, she knows she doesn’t need to be afraid of him like the others.

(y/n’s) true feelings couldn’t have been farther from his assumptions.  It may have been a moment of poor judgment, but the moment he’d materialized at that door, irritation overrode self preservation.  It didn’t matter that the cursed energy he carried was so heavy it was palpable.  

She took one look at the King of Curses and furrowed her brows like she was a child he’d wronged, and there wasn’t an ounce of fear for her life when she’s the first to speak.

“What the fuck are you doing out?” 

Out, it’s a funny choice of word, isn’t it? Sukuna can’t help the chuckle of amusement.  Did she mean out and about, casually roaming the sacred grounds, or could she have meant out due to his control over the brat’s body? 

A frown settles on her lips when she sees he’s already enjoying himself.  She should be wondering what he’s been up to before he came here, or when exactly it was he gained control over Yuji’s body.

“And what happened to-” 

Before she could fully voice her worry for her friend, Sukuna’s waving a dismissive hand.

“The brat’s fine, not everything has to be about him, you know” He scolds her as if this was a conversation they’d had a hundred times before now.  Her frown deepens.

“Forgive me for caring more about him than a curse like you” She scoffs back at him.

How was it that in every lifetime she had to have that same bad attitude? Of course eventually she’d always settle down and warm back up to him, century and century again.  Some cases took days, others years, and Sukuna was starting to get a feeling that due to the circumstances they found themselves in this time around, this case could be the latter.  He frowns at the thought.

He found her so quickly this time, why did she have to be so stubborn? 

“Always such a brat, I can hardly tell the difference between you,” He replies.

The look of disgust on her face is washed away by mild surprise.  Both from the soft and easy cadence of his usually rough and cruel voice, and from the realization that he probably should have killed her for talking back to him the way she did.  Now she starts to wonder just how many buttons she can push before she sees the true side of the King of Curses.

Her brows pinch together as she watches him with calculations behind her eyes.  Was this all a part of the act from before? 

“How interesting could things have been if you’d swallowed the finger that day and not this brat, hm?” He muses, and he seems genuinely curious about it.  

(y/n) can barely keep up with him, trying too hard to jump to conclusions before he’s revealed them.  Then again, there might be nothing to understand at all- this was all a part of the mind games, wasn’t it? She makes a mental note to meet with Gojo about this.  Sukuna must’ve had greater plans in mind that the strongest sorcerer should be looped in on.  Even if so far… he hadn’t exactly done anything… just made her friendship with Yuji fairly awkward.

Sukuna hasn’t moved from the doorway.  Her eyes sweep over him carefully as she wonders if this is purposeful.  If his motive is to give her a false sense of safety.

“Humor me for a moment, (y/n)” 

He sounds out her name like it’s an unfamiliar word, and for the first time since he’d appeared minutes prior, there’s a familiar hollow in her chest.  At first she tags it as distress, but the way it lingers like a dull ache has her double guessing it’s cause.

“What?” 

No should’ve been what came out of her mouth- if anything needed to be said at all.  Would he let her leave if she tried? Would he punish her for it? However, despite every instinct begging to drag her in a different direction, she can’t help the intrigue she feels for him.

“What’re you doing here as a sorcerer?” He hums again with his question, eyes narrowing on her slightly as he takes account of her every reaction.

She’s holding her breath right now, it’s obvious in her tense jaw and unmoving chest.  Not even a strand of hair waves in it’s place.  Every part of her is so still, he could easily mistake it as her natural instinct to fear him as her natural predator.  He knows this isn’t the case.

She opens her mouth to protest the question at first, but just as quickly, her jaw slacks, and she’s closing it softly as she sits on it a little more thoughtfully.

“Why do you ask?” 

It irks him to have a question answered with another question.  This was another quirk of hers that she always had in the earlier stages of their reunion.  Even with the grain of irritation, Sukuna still finds himself amused in the way that she truly is the same person in every lifetime.  She may have different names, and occasionally a feature or two isn’t quite how he remembered it- and trust him, he remembered- but her soul remained pure, unfiltered, unchanging.  She was always his.

“The last we spoke, you had quite the unshakable opinion about a society that breeds and boasts of it’s powerful children to protect them, only to leave them in neglect…” He trails off, scanning her features in the search of any flash of recognition.  If anything, she’s only more confused.  Her brows are furrowed and her lips have formed a pout which he deemed as her sign of defeat in trying to understand him.  “Something about creating the things you fear.  But it was quite some time ago, and I see you’ve so clearly changed your mind” He raises a hand, palm up as he lazily gestures to her.

(y/n’s) posture straightens up, partially out of her defensive nature, but mostly due to the seriousness in his tone.  Logic tells her she shouldn’t be taking anything he says as truth, it would be foolish, and in the end probably deadly too.

But that intrigue hits her, ignites a tiny spark in her chest that has her longing to learn more.  The intensity tells her that if he weren’t this curse, that perhaps if he was just a man, she might humor him in the way he was looking for.

If she began the what if game now, she feared she’d find herself justifying her continuation of this conversation.

“You must have me confused, then” 

Her words are clear and concise without being loud.

“I haven’t confused you in any century before this one and I would never confuse you in the ones to come after,” 

She tries to hide the surprise in her expression, but she knows she fails.  Especially when Sukuna’s amusement in her reaction seems more genuine than before.  He takes a step into the room, just a single one.

“Your brat friend is fine.  He fell asleep.  We have a sort of… deal,” 

There is some comfort in his words, even if (y/n) is unsure about her trust in him, the words still hit her chest and her shoulders slowly begin to untense.  She doesn’t question him, doesn’t make any comment at all.  She supposes he’ll fill the silence eventually, and her assumption is correct.

“You and I have known each other for quite some time,” He continues.  “Long ago, you made a Binding Vow to me.  A vow that allowed your mortal body to be reborn in every lifetime, so that I may find you” 

Her brows furrow, hardly believing this to be the truth.  She’s supposed to believe a Binding Vow could hold the power to reincarnate her? A quiet scoff blows past her lips.

“Incredible,” She murmurs, but it’s clear her astonishment isn’t enthusiastic.  It’s cynical.  “What sort of entertainment do you really gain from this?” 

She asks, crossing her arms over her chest as she dares a few steps forward.  She’s not all that close to him, but at the end of the day it didn’t matter her distance from Sukuna, the radius of his danger could stretch for miles.

“You never believe me right away” He muses, his hands folding behind his back as he regards her curiously.  It makes her feel like a specimen, like a wild animal he’s just stumbled upon, but she doesn’t shrink under the intensity of his gaze.

“Would you?”

It’s not the response he’s expecting, but his eyes light up with a flicker of excitement.

“Of course not,” He answers, his lips beginning to curl into a smile.  It should send a chill down her spine, but she takes another step forward and tilts her chin up higher.  So foolish, he thinks with an air of loveliness wrapped around it, don’t you see that the mere fact I let you live for behaving like this must mean there’s some truth in my words? Instead, he tells her “Yet, you fall every time”

“I fall for the trick?” She snaps, but her intrigue remains.

“You fall for me” He clarifies, a finality in his tone that has her shutting up, albeit momentarily.

No, she must’ve been right, it was all some grand trick.  Some ridiculous, theatrical ploy he’d come up with just to deceive her.  She’s not sure of the why yet- if he wanted to kill her, couldn’t he have done it already? If he wanted to torture her, couldn’t he have chained her up by now? She’s skeptical, but she would hate to admit that some part of her, deep, deep down, considers that he may not be lying to her.

Of course he must be lying, so she tries to shove that idea down.

“And why would I do such a thing like that?” She asks, her tone bored, but the wideness in her eyes as she awaited his answer didn’t go unnoticed.  

Sukuna unfolded his hands in order to push them into the pockets of Yuji’s pants.  His grievance in wearing a sorcerer’s uniform was obvious in the unsavory curl in his lips as he briefly glanced down at himself, but his attention returned to her just as quickly.

“A Binding Vow is a double sided contract,” He reminds her.  “You entered it willingly,” He tilts his head at her as he watches her process this information, before he tells her the full truth.  “In fact, you were the one who brought the idea to me, sweetheart” 

“Don’t call me that” She mutters out quickly, not thinking twice about the consequences of scolding the King of Curses.

“It’s true,” Sukuna shrugs his shoulders with a lazy drag.  “I almost didn’t agree to it.  But you’ve always been… convincing” 

She’s not sure what he means, because the memories he’s recalling aren’t shared- if they’re real memories at all- and yet, she continues to lay her questions on thick.

“And why wouldn’t I choose to remember all of this then, hm? If I chose to be reborn, over and over, why wouldn’t I have wanted to remember?” She’s challenging him, and Sukuna’s enjoying it, even if it means that right now the distance she puts between them is further than before he’d found her due to her distrust in him.

History has repeated itself for thousands of years, but no event was as perfectly cyclical as she was to him.  Time and time again he would find her, and in every lifetime, she’d been his.

“You wanted to,” He tells her.  “The vow took a bit of a different turn than expected.  See, your soul didn’t simply leap into a pre-existing person with each reincarnate.  You were born again.  Every part of your being, physical and… otherwise, was reborn.  It actually makes it all the more difficult to find you, you know” 

“Seems like a copout” She says, her expression unamused.

“Well go on then, what else do you want to ask me?”

“I have nothing,” She lies.  “Because I’m not entertaining this any further” 

“Fine, then,” To her surprise, Sukuna actually accepts her rejection- if you could call it that.  “I’ll give the brat his body back.  But you’ll know where to find me once you start to remember” 

He leaves without a word, not even a mere wave, and it’s not until he’s gone that (y/n) wonders if she should be worried about him roaming the grounds of Jujutsu Tech, but nothing happens.

In fact it’s such a quiet night that the next morning everyone seems well rested and rejuvenated, all in good spirits and ready to take on the day.  Everyone but her.  And she can’t stop her eyes from shifting towards Yuji every thirty seconds, always double checking the slits under his eyes, as if one of these times she’d find them open and focused on her.

She can’t get the image of Sukuna lounging so casually in that training room.  It’s hard when one of her closest friends shares his face, so even when she’s not anxious about seeing that second set of eyes, her heart still skips a beat when Yuji’s eyes catch hers and he smiles politely.

Naturally, that skip in her heart was due to her nerves, and had nothing to do with the contents of her discussion with the curse inside of him.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Sukuna gives (y/n) what he believes to be an abundant amount of time to let their past settle in.  He wants her to process it all properly.  He wants her to come to her senses and realize that there were no ulterior motives in his reveal.

He still makes the occasional crude comment from Yuji’s cheek, but while they’re ever directed at her, she finds her posture straightening and her eyes trained on the skin where he’s materialized, always waiting for him to direct something her way.  He doesn’t.  He hardly even looks at her- when she’s looking, that is.  While inside of his domain and perfectly hidden by Itadori Yuji, Sukuna spends as much of his time staring at her while he can.  Some days, there’s an intensity so strong that Yuji finds himself not-so-subtly staring at her too.  Sukuna doesn’t like this- if he had things his way then no one would lay there eyes on what was his- but letting Yuji sneak glances here and there was a small price to pay in order to make sure the pair remain close enough that Sukuna’s still able to have some sense of nearness to her.

Due to this silent period on his part, (y/n) decides against bringing Gojo’s attention to the situation.  While she knows it hasn’t just disappeared, because she just knows that it will be brought up again, she hopes that enough time passes that she can learn to brush it off as nonsense spewed from a bored curse.

It nags at her, despite her best efforts, she never allows herself to forget it completely.  It crosses her mind every day, if not every minute she spends with Yuji.  The way he stood, the way he spoke, it would play on a loop in her mind until she was sure it would drive her to the point of madness.  It very well could have, already.

And one night, she decides to take the reins into her own hands, and she approaches it first.

After watching a partial movie in the common room, Megumi had long gone to bed and Nobara had crashed on a makeshift pile of blankets on the floor, (y/n) feels an anxiousness settle over her when she hears Yuji begin to snore and he, too, was just as knocked out as the rest of her friends.

She debates on it for a moment, her eyes sliding between the flickering television and the resting boy sitting beside her on the couch.  Her index finger taps at an unkept pace against her knee, and she lets as many minutes pass as she could, just to be sure Yuji truly was asleep.

Then she turned her head fully, eyes focused on that mark under his face where Sukuna’s eyes were peacefully shut.  Not sure of the inner workings on how the whole vessel thing worked, her only choice was to take a shot in the dark and hope it worked.

“I was going to tell Gojo about what you said, you know” 

Her whisper is so soft, her voice cracks and gives on certain syllables.  Even if he could hear her from in there, she wonders if he could have heard something so silently spoken.

Slowly, the eye opens, and it blinks a few times before it slides towards her.  She wonders if he sleeps in there, or if every introduction light when he leaves his domain requires an adjustment.

And then, Yuij’s stirs, and (y/n) freezes up, watching as he twitches before his eyes begin to blink awake, as well.  Fear spikes in her chest at the thought of getting caught talking to the curse inside of him while he slept.

But when his eyes fully open and an array of markings begin to paint across his features, she realizes it’s not Yuji.  It’s just his body.  There’s a certain guilt that follows her relief from this.  In no situation should she feel pleased to see Sukuna over Yuji.

“Am I supposed to be threatened by this?” He asks slowly, in a low tone of voice that she can’t decide the cause of.  Was he trying to be considerate of the sleeping sorcerer on the ground? Or was he just trying to be as menacing and mysterious as always? 

He doesn’t lift his head from where Yuji had been dozed off against the couch cushion, neck craned at an angle that couldn’t be comfortable to sleep in for the entire night, but Sukuna’s not exactly looking out for the brat’s comfort.  He could use a good crick in the neck or two.

“I don’t think there’s anything I could do to threaten you,” (y/n) replies honestly, the hush in her voice making her sound softer than she would’ve liked.  She doesn’t need him thinking she’s warming up to being in his presence, after all.  “But… would you kill me if I was?” 

“What do you think?” 

It comes out fast enough to be taken harshly, like he holds a disbelief in how idiotic she could be, but their conversation began with a whisper and it seems to be carried on that way.  A lump forms in (y/n’s) throat as she holds eye contact with the darkened vermillion ones that stare back at hers.

The deep feeling she’d buried, the one that told her maybe she trusted him whether she liked it or not, sparked and caught light, burned just a little bit brighter, caused just enough smoke for her to give some of her attention to.

If he truly wanted to kill her, he had millions of chances to do so before now.  So she concludes that his goal wasn’t to do so.  Of course, this begs the question,

“What is it that you want, Sukuna?” 

She’s much calmer than the last time they spoke, he notices.  She’s nervous, but not tense, and not nearly as defensive.  He’s not naive, he doesn’t mistake this for trust, but he is pleased in her change in attitude.

An idle smile curls on his lips as his fixed gaze softens with familiarity.

Just like every time before now, she always, eventually, came around to him.  It was like her curiosity couldn’t keep her away, and her heart always won over her mind.

“I believe you already know the answer to that” He refrains from letting an old pet name fall from his tongue, a courtesy to her that he allows this once, just so she wouldn’t flee from her seat next to him.

She hums, letting the sort-of-answer sit on her mind for a moment.  An unknown feeling gnaws at her- or at least, a feeling she doesn’t want to put a name to.

“Why?” The word ghosts off of her lips, and even with the worried knot between her brows her eyes stay set on his.  “Why does it have to be me?” 

“You’re looking at it all wrong,” Sukuna muses, his lower set of eyes rolling just slightly before he can help it.  “It doesn’t have to be you- it just is.  It’s always been you, and it always will be” 

“Because of the Binding Vow?” She questions, and he blinks at her, processing what she meant, before his brows furrow just a little bit, and he shakes his head.

“The only clause to our vow is that you will always be reborn,” His tongue runs over his teeth as he tries to bite back the amusement he feels when realization dawns on her.  “Everything after that comes from your own free will, sweetheart” 

“Don’t call me that” She snaps at him, but it’s a mumble, hardly audible, hardly threatening.  Sukuna purses his lips.

“Like I said, you were the one who came up with the contract,” He huffs.  “I would’ve never agreed to such a thing if you weren’t so persistent” 

She perks up at that little comment, and suddenly turns in her seat, tucking her legs underneath her as she faces him.  Sukuna’s barely moved at all, still slouched into the cushion in the position Yuji had fallen asleep in.  His eyes follow her movements as she sets her elbow on the top of the furniture so she could prop her head in her hand.  Her brows are drawn together again as she studies him.

“Then why tell me about it?” She blurts the question out.

“Because I’m the one burdened with the centuries of memories” He replies without missing a beat, voice dry and expression unreadable.  He’s keeping it as neutral as possible, knowing her calculating eyes would see right through any sudden change, no matter how small.

“And you are?” She asks, and then in a softer voice, finishes the thought, “Burdened?” 

Sukuna blinks, slowly, before letting his gaze wander the soft and curious look on her face.  He fights the urge to smile at the loveliness of it all- the twitch in her nose, the small pout in her lip- he’s the King of Curses and there should be no force on this earth that weakens him the way her gentle gaze focused on him does.  Even after all this time, she is his achilles heel, she is his greatest burden, and she is the only thing he could ever truly, completely, want.

“Yes,” His answer is quiet, and (y/n) lifts her head as she stares at him with her confusion.  “There exists no stronger shackles a being could trap me with the way you have,”

Her face falls, and she’s silent for a long moment.  With a dry throat and a mind too busy and overcrowded with thoughts, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say.  But that gnawing feeling was starting to make her chest ache, and the pounding of her heart in her ribcage was relentless.

“There’s no greater curse I could bear” 

She hates the way he says these things so casually, without a strain in his expression or voice.  She wonders if it’s because he’s done it so many times that it’s lost it’s value.  Perhaps to him, this was just a part of the burden that was her existence, explaining these things to her was simply a chore that needed to be completed.  She swallows a few times to ease the dryness of her throat.

“Does it get old?” 

Sukuna smiles.  It should trouble her- he knows that it unsettles Yuji- but if she feels unease it’s not shown.

“A thousand years of anything gets old,” He sighs, rolling his head over the cushion to stare up at the blank ceiling.  “And I’d hate to admit the things that never get old” 

It’s stupid.  It’s ridiculous and foolish and naive, but she smiles.

“What doesn’t get old?” She asks, her curiosity blending with a sick sense of delight as she wonders just how many sides of Sukuna there really are.

He angles his head towards her again, narrowing his gaze as his lips twisted into a small smirk.  It felt like his technique had the ability to see right through her- she wondered if he was really strong enough to do that.

“Last time we spoke, you said you wouldn’t entertain this,” He reminds her.  “What’s changed?” 

“Nothing,” She murmurs back without a moment of hesitation.  

It’s the truth, and she has no reason to falsify an answer for him.  Just as he had no reason to be so forward about their past.  Even if she hadn’t gathered much, this conversation was much different from their last, and she felt as though she would walk away with this one overwhelmed by all of this new information.  Her trust in him is precarious, and could easily be destroyed by one wrong move, but right now, she can’t see what reason she has not to take him at his word.  It’s not as if he’s asking for anything in return, it’s not as if she won’t return to her dorm for the night and likely not see or speak to him again for some time.  So, she supposed, what was the harm in entertaining the idea just a little?

“Nothing at all” She finishes the thought softly, before turning her attention back to the forgotten movie still playing across the room.  It was nearing the end, and she’d missed enough of it to barely understand what was happening on screen now, but she didn’t have any more questions for the King of Curses tonight, and he kept quiet as she watched the movie.

To her surprise, Sukuna did sit and watch the movie.  She’s not sure how much of it he actually listened or paid attention to, but it was clear that he had not given Yuji his body back, and was still very much alert and in control.

(y/n) doesn’t return to her dorm room until she finally sees Yuji asleep next to her, his face bare of any markings, and the extra eyelids under his eyes closed just as peaceful as his own.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

In the meantime, (y/n) didn’t feel so anxious around Yuji anymore, which they were both grateful for.  Yuji wasn’t sure why the sudden chance came about, but he certainly wouldn’t complain.  He was just glad to have his friend acting her usual self again.

He had no idea of the few chats she’d shared with the curse he hosted.  While Sukuna wasn’t necessarily hiding his interest in her, he wasn’t forthright with the brat either.  He didn’t need the kid interfering with what he was building on here.  It was slow moving like a trail of molasses but Sukuna was more patient than most people gave him credit for.  He could let a lot of things go.

Not this, however.

All of Gojo’s students had been sent on a seemingly standard assignment.  Odd, unexplainable disappearances had been happening in a clearing in the middle of the woods, enough so to alert jujutsu society and send a few sorcerers to the scene to investigate.

Upon arrival, there was an undeniable heaviness in the air.  The field that the group of four found themselves in didn’t stretch for miles, but it was no small clearing.  It was a strange place for a curse to settle in and lure non-sorcerers towards.  Curses often tucked themselves into hidden spots, within abandoned buildings or deep in the thick brush of the woods.  Not a clearing of grass and wild daisies.

The entire situation was odd, it didn’t sit right in anyone’s mind as they went their separate ways to scour the area for any insight on what was happening here.  It didn’t take long for something to turn up.

A curse that had to have been a First Grade, with a large, sharp toothed grin and gouged out eyes, materialized in the clearing’s center, and as soon as it clocked this evening’s prey as jujutsu sorcerers, it seemed to go into a mad state.  (y/n’s) not sure if it possesses great speed or the ability to teleport when it’s suddenly before her.  All she’s able to do in that amount of time is lift her weapon into an offensive position, she’s not even given the time to drive it forward in an attack before suddenly, she’s no longer on the ground.

She comes to mid air, just before she hits the ground and rolls a few times before her senses kick in and her hands brace themselves against the ground.  She can faintly hear her friends calling for her in their shock, but it’s distant.  Her head is spinning too fast for her to lift it to see just how far the curse had thrown her.

A few coughs erupt from her throat before she even tells her body to do so, brought on by the hit to her chest once she’s lifted herself up enough to relieve the pressure from the ground.  Her arms are trembling from the adrenaline and a few drops of blood splatter from her mouth, but once she’s sat up enough, she drags the sleeve of her uniform over her mouth to dry the blood, and she finally gets a good look at where she is.

She’s been thrown clear out of the field, and she considers herself lucky that her body hadn’t been halted by a tree, and instead tumbled to the ground.  Being thrown directly into one of the large oaks she’s surrounded by could’ve been fatal if she’d hit it just right, or at the very least she could’ve broken her ankle.  With a rushed assessment she decides nothing feels broken, and therefore she can grab her weapon and- 

Her weapon is nowhere near her.  She scrambles to her feet, her breaths heavy and irregular as she searches around the grass, looking for the large blade she’d had in her hands less than a minute ago.  

It had only been a minute, right? She hadn’t blacked out, had she?

Realizing there was no use wasting her time looking for a weapon now, she pushes herself to break into a sprint back towards the clearing.  Her friends are blurry images moving about, trying to attack the larger blurry images that fends off their attacks with little struggle.  She concludes this when she begins to hear the yelps and grunts of her fellow sorcerers, and yet the curse doesn’t seem to struggle at all.

Just when her vision begins to clear and she’s preparing herself to rejoin the fight with only her cursed technique and her fists, she sees the curse grab Megumi by the leg, and soon after he’s getting thrown into the air just as she did.  His name is torn from her raw throat in an instant- but Megumi is more prepared to be airborne than she was, drawing his hands together to summon Nue to catch him.

Relief is short lived, and soon Megumi finds himself instructing Nue to catch Nobara and Yuji when shortly after, they’re being thrown as well.  Nue’s a quick shikigami, but it’s only strong enough to carry one person at a time before it’s energy starts to deplete, and the curse keeps at it’s movements, chuckling the three of them into the air before they can land an attack on them on their decline.  Yuji tries, using Black Flash on his descent in the hopes of striking it where it hurts, but the curse manages to catch him in a tight fist before chucking him again.

(y/n’s) still keeping an eye out for her weapon when she grows nearer to the fight, seeing as no one else’s techniques have caused any real damage yet, her cursed tool of a sword could be quite handy right about now.

She was hoping that with it’s attention focused on the other three, she could attack it from behind, and drive it more towards the clearing again.  With how much movement and tossing it had done, it had driven them all deeper into the woods, which made it harder to land attacks, but had been good coverage for (y/n) to sneak up in her approach.

To her disadvantage, she hadn’t expected there to be a pair of large eyes on the back of it’s head.  In the dark of the night she hadn’t noticed them until they’d opened and landed on her instantaneously.  It must’ve sensed her sneaking around behind it.

She’s quicker in her movements this time, dodging it’s large hand before it could grab onto her, but it outsmarts her and snatches her up in the other.  A yelp sounds from her when it squeezes harder than the last time, her air supply cut off just as she’d tried to take in a large breath, making her sputter and cough as it raised her in the air again.  A sense of dread and failure washes over her when she realizes it’s going to throw her again.  Whatever this curse’s deal was, it had a thing for throwing it’s victims around to torture them.

And torture it was- as this time when she’s launched into the air, it’s a clear throw over the trees.  It’s harder than before, and faster.  The cool air cuts over her face in sharp streams, bringing tears to her eyes before she could comprehend what would come of her fall.  She could brace herself, but as she gets a watery glance at what’s below, she knows that shielding her face would provide no comfort to her fall.

Just past the cluster of oak trees is a steep overhang.  Rock and the roots of old trees jutting out some thirty feet to the ground.  

This is why her fall felt so long.  A sharp gasp escapes her, and when her inhale gets caught in her throat, she wonders if this is the last breath she’ll ever take.

When she shuts her eyes to protect them from the harsh wind, a wetness spreads down her cheeks.  In a last ditch effort at self preservation, her arms brace over her face, and she buries herself into them, not wanting to see the last thing that would break her fall.  Hopefully she wouldn’t feel it, either.

Her jaw clenched tightly as her heart began to race faster, expecting the crash to come soon.

The sensation isn’t as expected.  There is no slam against stone or cold ground that knocks the wind out of her.  Instead something’s wrapped around her middle, and out of worry that the curse had grabbed her in order to throw her again, she withdraws her head from her arms in a jolt.

It’s not the curse that’s caught her mid-fall.

It’s Sukuna.

With one arm wrapped around her back and the other around her shoulders, his large hand braces the back of her head to keep her tucked close.  They’re still falling, but the sensation feels different like this.  It’s almost as if he’s carrying her to the ground, his posture as natural as it would be if he were standing there now.

Wide, watery eyes blink up at him in astonishment when she fully registers what was happening.

“You’re alright, I’ve got you, sweetheart” 

If it weren’t for the rawness in her throat, she might’ve scolded him for the pet name, but her voice was taken away from her as soon as she’d been heaved into the sky a second time.

She doesn’t even process the way she’s gripping onto him until he lands on the ground, holding her up just a moment longer before carefully setting her on her feet.  Her hands are holding onto the sleeves of Yuji’s uniform in fists so tight her knuckles are white, and her hands are trembling.

The others are nowhere in sight, or at least, she can’t see them right now.  Her mind is so shaken up she doesn’t actually look.  Her eyes don’t tear away from the stunning red of Sukuna’s once.  She doesn’t even blink- hence the continued downpour of tears.  From the wind and her acceptance of a brutal death, her emotions were slowly catching up to reality.

Her chest is heaving but there’s no relief in feeling like she’s caught her breath.  Her heart is pounding so hard that it makes her ribs ache, but that very well could be the bruising from her previous fall setting in.  Her mouth moves but it takes a few tries for any real words to come out, and when her voice does come back to her, she doesn’t say much.

“S- Sukuna-” 

He silences her before she could even try to say something else.  Prying her hands off of his arms and placing them at her sides, even though there’s still tremors in her muscles.

“I only have a minute,” He tells her, in a gravely serious tone that she’s never heard from him before.  She blinks her wide eyes, leftover tears getting stuck on her lashes.  “It’s been handled” 

He doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t get the chance to before his posture begins to weaken, followed by his eyelids twitching and the marks beginning to fade away.

Gasping, (y/n) surges forward, grabbing Yuji by the shoulders before he could stumble and fall.  His eyes roll and blink a few times before he feels in control of his body again.  Soon after his posture straightens, and then it’s Yuji who’s looking worriedly down at (y/n).

She’s close, very close.  Her hands are gripping onto his shoulders for dear life.  He can feel her panting against his chin as her worried eyes scan over his features.

Yuji’s disoriented, like maybe he’s just woken up from a dream, or maybe he’s just woken up inside of a dream, and he’s not exactly sure how to voice this concern.  She makes it harder on him when one of her hands leaves his shoulder in order to reach for his cheek.

It’s so affectionate, the way she reaches for his face and presses her palm against it, that Yuji finds his skin heating up and a blush appearing over his cheeks before he could will himself not to.  She’s never behaved this way with him before.  He could only recall casual touches that occurred during training, or maybe a brush of her fingers when she handed him something, but nothing as intentional as this.  

And she’s certainly never looked at him like that either.  He can’t place his finger on it, but it makes his stomach churn to meet her eyes.

“Uh, (y/n)?” He mumbles out her name, and he finds himself doing a quick sweep of her, assessing her for a major injury.  But she’s standing just fine, and he can’t see any blood.  This had to be a head injury, right? 

He asks himself that question once more then the pad of her thumb brushes under his eye.  She faintly traces the incision of the closed eyelid just below his eyelashes.  Yuji holds his breath, but he’s not sure who he’s doing it for.  (y/n), whose eyes are glossing over as she’s gazing at the wrong eyes, which remained closed, or Sukuna, who Yuji was sure she was trying to reach to now.

And then she leans even closer, and the breath he’d been holding is forced out of him from the closing distance between them.  Her hands remain where they are, on his shoulder with an iron grip and against his cheek with the gentleness of a butterfly landing there.

On instinct Yuji finds his eyes darting down to her lips, but he’s positive she’s not going to kiss him- right? She wouldn’t do such a thing on a whim, not like this, not now when they’ve barely completed their assignment.  Not to mention their friends aren’t too far away- where are Nobara and Megumi anyways? Yuji’s thoughts are racing as fast as his heart as he struggles to figure out what to do as she grows nearer.

Before he has to come up with a decision, (y/n) stops, and Yuji swallows the lump in his throat out of relief that she wasn’t leaning in to kiss him.  The ride home would have been so awkward.

“Thank you” She breathes out the words, her thumb stroking over the spot on his cheek one more time before she finally drops her hand, and she pulls away from Yuji completely.

He blinks at her in disbelief, waiting for his heartbeat to calm down, which it does the further she steps away.

“What happened?” He asks, louder than he means to, but when he finally collects his thoughts and processes what just happened, he can’t help but blurt out the question.

The pair begin to make their way back to the clearing, both realizing that the First Grade curse was gone, clearly exorcized with the amount of purple goo coating the surrounding plants and trees.  They don’t discuss it right away, but they both have an inkling on how it was taken care of.

“Sukuna saved my life” 

Yuji wants to ask more questions, but when he turns towards her to do so, he can tell that she’s not ready to talk about it.  Her features had hardened, and she didn’t meet his eyes as they walked.

He knows he’s put off this conversation one too many times already… but once again he finds himself biting his tongue as they catch up with their other friends.

Something tells him that he’ll have to bring it up soon, though.  Because the King of Curses wouldn’t save just anyone’s life twice- much less a sorcerer.  And he has a gut feeling that (y/n) knows more than she’s letting on.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

This time, it’s only a few days since the last assignment when (y/n) crosses paths with Sukuna again.  Well, this time around, he came to her.

She’s just slid her bookmark between the pages she’d decided to pause on tonight when there’s a knock at her door.  With a quiet huff- she was just about to go to sleep after all- but before she can call for her visitor to come in, the door slides open and he’s inviting himself right on.

“Yu-! Sukuna?” 

The initial scolding tone she takes drops as soon as she realizes he’s not who she thought.  Her voice softens around his name in a way that it shouldn’t, but that she can’t help.  She sits up a little further in her bed, brows furrowing as he slides the door shut behind him.

“You can’t just walk in here” 

“I knocked” 

“Okay well… well you have to wait for me to actually invite you in” She mumbles out, only to be met with a scoff and a humorless chuckle.  But when her frown deepens, he sighs.

“Fine, I’ll knock for longer next time” He grunts, before he begins to wander around her room.  He glances over the few things littered on her desk- a picture frame of her and her friends, an open and neglected textbook, a pair of bracelets she’d forgotten to put away- he almost forgets why he’d come in to begin with.

“Um… did you need something?” (y/n) asks after a minute of him wandering around and eyeing all of her things.

“You’re freaking out the brat,” Sukuna says casually, picking up a little porcelain cat on her shelf.  His eyes narrow as he turns the small thing around in his hands, as if trying to decipher it’s purpose.  “He won’t stop asking about you now” 

“What?” (y/n) pushes the covers off her lap, moving to the end of the bed to sit a little closer to him.  It doesn’t matter if she’s quiet, it’s only the two of them in the room, but she feels a sudden need to lower her voice anyways.  “What do you mean he’s freaking out?” 

He turns to her then, the figurine still in his hands.  The tiniest of smiles purses on her lips at how silly a tiny cat looks in his large and tattooed hands.  Despite how easily he could crush it to dust, his hold on it is gentle.

“I just thought that you should be aware, you know, that eventually you’ll have to decide if you want to explain yourself to your friends or not” 

Her stomach twists and turns into dozens of little knots.  The King of Curses was stopping by her room late into the night just for this? She shouldn’t be surprised, because she knew his motives, but still, she blinked at him with wide eyes.

“You haven’t…?” The question trails off as she shakes her head at him, unsure of how to word it just right.

“I don’t like the idea of the brat knowing all of my business,” Sukuna hums, finally setting the cat back down on her shelf.  “You’ve always had a knack for collecting useless things” He comments, and the words are harsh but his tone is nothing but amused.

“So… you think I should talk to Yuji?” She asks, and Sukuna lets his shoulders rise and fall in disinterest.

“If that’s what you want” He says, but it doesn’t feel considerate.  (y/n) frowns.

“Don’t you think he’ll be… upset?” 

“With you?” 

She nods.

“You’ve done nothing wrong.  If anything, the brat would only worry about you.  Seeing as he despises me, and all” 

“You don’t exactly make it easy to feel otherwise” (y/n) mumbles, and her words hang in the air for a few long moments.  She’s not sure if she means the insinuation behind them or if it’s just a coincidence, but she doesn’t try to backtrack to explain herself.

“Yes, well, he certainly cares more for you than he does for me.  Too much so.  Some boundaries might do you some good, you know” 

“Boundaries?”

“Yes, boundaries.  He almost kissed you” 

Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head before her brows furrow and she scoffs in disbelief.

“What? What are you even talking about?” 

Sukuna tucks his hands into his pockets, looking all the more out of place in her room at this hour.

“During your little gratitude session on your last assignment,” He says, his lips curling into a deep frown.  “You got a bit too close and his brat-mind went a bit haywire.  You don’t need to be so affectionate with him, you know.  A plain thank you would have sufficed-” 

“I wasn’t being affectionate with him,” She snaps back, and Sukuna raises a brow at the display.  “I was thanking you, asshole.  You pretty much saved my life?” She says it like she’s trying to jog his memory.  “I wasn’t trying to make a move on Yuji, and I’m sure he knew that too.  I don’t control his thoughts, he can think whatever he wants, doesn’t mean it’s happening” 

Sukuna steps closer to where she sat before bending down to match her height.  She’s still frowning, clearly annoyed with this interaction, but she had yet to ask him to leave, and he has a feeling she won’t.

“So if the brat had plucked up the nerve to make a move, you would’ve pushed him away?” He asks, and he’s smirking, almost as if he wants her to say otherwise.  Her eyes narrow, not understanding what his mind games were getting at this time.

“Politely, yes,” She answers, shaking her head at him.  “Why does this matter? Last I checked, in this lifetime, I’m not some cowering wife for you to boss around” 

Sukuna laughs at that, genuinely laughs.  He stands back up to his full height and throws his head back and cackles so loud that (y/n) can only pray Nobara doesn’t wake up from next door.  She might not need to whisper to speak with him, but the walls weren’t exactly soundproof either.

“Sweetheart, you’ve never been a cowering wife,” He tells her once his laughter died down.  “A wife, perhaps, but never some submissive weak minded mortal” He adds.

“So we have been married?” 

She asks him with such peculiarity, and it makes him chuckle again.  She sounds as though this has been the strangest thing he’s revealed thus far, and he can’t help but find humor in it.

“We have” He answers.

(y/n) shifts her position, pulling her legs towards her chest and staring up at him expectantly, waiting for a continuation that wouldn’t come.  Sukuna merely stares at her with mild confusion.

“Well?” She asks, tilting her head forward.  “Did we get married every time?” 

He smirks.

“I’ve told you that you created a Binding Vow in order to be with me across centuries of eras.  In the grand scheme of things, don’t you think marriage is a little… bleak?” 

(y/n) shrugs a shoulder, resting her arms atop her knees as she gazes back at him curiously.

“It’s bleak in this lifetime,” She murmurs back.  “Not to me, at least” 

Sukuna hums, before shaking his head.

“You never change” 

“Do I really?” She presses again.  “For the last… thousand years… am I really the same?” 

Sukuna ponders for a moment.  This was a common question of hers, and each time, he struggled to answer it.

“You really want to know?” 

She doesn’t say anything, but she pats her hand against the space on the bed next to her.  Sukuna’s gaze shifts to it momentarily, before looking back at her.  After a moment, he takes a seat.

“You are almost completely the same in every lifetime I’ve found you in,” He explains.  “You’re always stubborn, you never make it easy.  But you always… come around,” He turns to her.  “Like now” 

“You think I’m coming around?” She asks, a skeptical look in her eye that makes him smirk.  He leans forward as though the next part he shares is a grave secret.

“You never want to admit it, but you always have a soft spot for me” 

(y/n) raises a brow back at him in defiance.

“I think you’ve got that turned around,” She murmurs.  “I think the King of Curses has a soft spot for me.  And I think he’s making it everyone’s problem” 

He chuckles quietly, his gaze sweeping over the gentle features of her face.

“I think the feelings you have for me in every beginning come from your soul’s memory,” He tells her, raising a hand, and gently pressing the pad of his thumb against the center of her forehead.  The sudden touch makes her freeze at first, but eventually she relaxes as the rest of his fingers lay in her hair.  “I haven’t quite figured it out yet, I don’t know how it is that you’re never able to keep your memories,” He tilts his head as he ponders it for a moment, his eyes focused on where he’s touched her head.  “But I think deep down, you know that you trust me” 

(y/n) doesn’t have a witty comeback for that one.  She’s still reeling from the warmth of his touch, and the weight of his words.  But she feels obligated to say something when his gaze met hers again.

“I never said I believed you in all this, you know” She whispers weakly.

“You don’t believe me?” He murmurs back at her, his voice a low rumble as his hand starts to fall from her head.  He doesn’t remove his touch, he lets the back of his finger trace along her temple, before slowly moving down her jaw.  Sukuna doesn’t seem displeased in her words.  If anything, he seems intrigued by them.  “You know, you almost look the same in every life, too” 

“I do?” She asks, just as his fingers fall still against her cheek.

Sukuna hums, and nods his head.

“The last I saw you, your hair was different,” He tells her.  “It was longer, to about… here,” With his free hand, he gently touches her waist, and the way she tenses doesn’t go unnoticed.  “You would wear it in all sorts of different styles.  Pretty braids and… whatever our servants would desire to do that day,” Her eyes widen at his use of the word servants, but Sukuna glides over it.  “But that was a few hundred years ago, of course.  It would all be outdated now,” He drops his hand from her waist, but the other remains against her cheek, his touch ghosting over it.  “Not that it wouldn’t still be exquisite” 

Her eyes shift between his, trying to decipher the emotion they hold.  She can’t tell if he’s amused or sorrowful.  Was he disappointed that she couldn’t remember?

“This is why I’m the one who doesn’t believe you” He murmurs after a few beats pass.

(y/n’s) brows draw together just slightly, just enough to pinch the skin between them.

“What do you mean?” She asks, her voice betraying her as it shakes just a little.

“Because you look at me like that” He says, nodding at her slightly.

(y/n) blinks, doe eyes resembling the glass of the porcelain cat he’d just been mocking.  Her lips are parted, formed in the smallest of pouts as she gazes up at him, that look unrelenting.

She tilts forward, her gaze flickering over his face leisurely, mapping out the black markings, and all the small details that make him so different from Yuji.  The way he insists on pushing the bangs out of his face, the broader jaw, the sharper canine that she only notices when he laughs or smiles- which is quite rare.  She’s admiring him so openly that Sukuna’s not sure what to do under such heavy surveillance, so he just sits there and allows her to stare.

But eventually, she sighs, and drops her legs from her chest before she crawls across her bed, moving to get under the covers again.  Sukuna remains in his spot at the end, watching her without an expression as she settles into her pillow.

“Does it disturb Yuji’s rest when you take over like this?” She asks quietly as she presses her cheek into the soft comfort of her pillow.

No, the brat’s completely dozed off, that’s why he could take over like this.  It’s what he wants to say, but he doesn’t.

“I’ll be sure it doesn’t” He says as he stands, and walks around the bed, facing the side she’s just moved to.  He crouches down to meet her eye level again, and (y/n) moves a little closer to the edge towards him.

“Okay, good,” She whispers.

She blames her exhaustion when she reaches out to him, the tips of her fingers barely prodding at the dark ink that follows the sharp curve of his jaw.  Her eyes follow it as she traces it down to his chin, almost painfully slow.  It takes every ounce of restraint for him not to lean into the touch.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do, Sukuna,” She murmurs, her fingers lingering on his chin, her eyes slowly meeting his.  “I… I can’t…” 

She can’t even say the words.  She hardly wants to be thinking about them.  But Sukuna knows her better than anyone who’s ever walked this earth, and he nods back at her in understanding before she could try to finish the thought.

“I’ve never expected anything of you,” He murmurs, before reaching up to pull her hand from his face, gently closing his fingers around her own as he moves it away.  “You have been the greatest love of my life whether you’re able to remember or not,” He tells her, and she listens to him with her full attention.  “And whether you believe me or not, you still will be,”

There’s the smallest of squeezes to her hand with his words, and a lump begins to build up in her throat.

“You can ask more questions another time, alright? You should get some sleep, sweetheart” 

She gives him a faint nod, her eyes already feeling too heavy to keep open when she feels her blanket being dragged over her shoulders.  Distantly, her mind registers that the King of Curses is tucking her into bed, but she’s too tired now to comment on it.

There’s another squeeze to her fingers, followed by a hesitation, and then the soft, unmistakable pair to two lips pressing against her knuckles.  It’s not a lingering kiss, and it’s featherlight, over as soon as it began, and again, (y/n) keeps her eyes shut and doesn’t say anything.

Sukuna lays her hand down against her blanket with the gentleness of maneuvering a newborn.  She hears him walking away towards her door.

“Goodnight, Sukuna” 

It’s the softest call, but it’s enough to make him pause at the door and glance back at her.  She still can’t look at him- she’s afraid she’ll burst into tears if she does, although she can’t quite explain the heavy emotion that’s bringing the tears to her eyes to begin with.

“Goodnight, my love” 

It’s murmured so quickly before he’s hastily exiting her room that she could’ve missed it altogether, but she doesn’t.  Her hand curls into her sheets as she pulls it close to her chest as she lets tonight’s conversation sink into her mind.

The truth was, she did trust him.  She did believe him.  And she was pretty sure this was the case for the entire time she’s known him.  She’s pretty sure this was unavoidable.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Everything’s blurry when she first comes to.

And everything hurts.

She tries to move, but it only results in a strangled whine being pulled from her throat as soon as she tries.

She’s on the ground.  It’s covered in rubble.  There’s glass pricking her arms- or maybe the gravel was just that sharp.  There’s a warmth pooling under the side she’s laying on.  Likely blood.

Another groan when she at least tries to get on her back in order to assess the bleeding wound on her left side, but just as she’s about to roll her body weight, she catches something in her vision.

Yuji?

He’s slumped over against a wall, and he looks no better than she feels.  Covered in bruises and blood that may or may not be his own- whatever went down was ugly.

She blinks a few times to focus her vision a little better.  She tries to call for him but her throat is raw and all that comes out is another whine.  Either way, he’s clearly passed out and wouldn’t have responded.  The fight must’ve taken everything out of him.

Oh, the fight, it slowly starts coming back to her in flashing images.  That Blood Manipulation Guy.  He was rough.  She’s not sure how they got out of it alive- she’s not sure how they got to this point at all.  Her mind’s still foggy and the only thing that’s easy to focus on is the shooting pains in her body.

That is, until there’s the sound of clicking heels and hushed, feminine voices.  (y/n) hadn’t even realized her eyes had slipped shut again until those two appeared, and she peeks her eyes open to see two girls whispering between themselves as they crouch before Yuji’s body.

They look harmless enough, no older than her, and not to mention they look anxious.  So nothing about her blurry assumptions about them triggered any warning flags.

That was, until they pulled out a bag of fingers.  Unmistakable fingers.

She needs to get up now and she knows it.  She pleads with her body to move, wishing the throbbing hot pain in her left leg would disappear just long enough for her to get to Yuji, to stop these girls from what they’re about to do.

It’s unclear how much time lapses before she notices a third figure at Yuji’s body.  A curse.  And he seems to have a few fingers of his own, too.

No, her voice cries, but it’s only in her head.  You can’t do that.

She’s never felt so weak, her fingers barely twitching against the concrete when she’s trying to tell her body to get up.  She’s sure that means none of the rest of her limbs are moving.  She’s trapped there.

Her heart is pounding, her breaths are labored, dread consumes her so completely she’d throw up if there was anything left in her stomach.

It’s tough to count just how many fingers are shoved down Yuji’s throat before the curse is clamping his large hand over his mouth and forcing his head back in order to make the unconscious boy swallow every last one.  With tears in her eyes she knows it’s more than what’s safe, and there’s a turmoil in her gut as she doesn’t know how to feel about what comes next.

With her heart pounding in her ears she can’t tell what exactly the fighting amongst the curse users and the curse himself was about, but suddenly only the cycloptic curse remains standing over Yuji’s body.  He’s grunting and growling, still pushing the boy’s head back.  (y/n) wonders if he’s swallowed all those fingers by now.

These three were idiots.  But they were idiots stronger than her, and even if she’d had the strength to stop them, it would’ve been futile.

However, now, they hardly made her list of things to be afraid of in Shibuya.

The blood that’s pooled under Yuji’s body startles her- when did that get there? But after blinking a few times to clear her sight and focus just a fraction of a bit better, she realizes it’s not human blood at all, but that awful purple essence that leaves a stench behind.

“I’ll give you one second,” Comes the familiar voice that doesn’t belong to the body it erupts from.  “Move” 

In a flash, the small crowd around him is a good ten feet back.  (y/n) could almost laugh if her throat wasn’t bloodied raw.  They chose to wake him up with all those fingers, and now they’re visibly afraid of what they summoned themselves? They truly had no idea what they were in for now.

It only takes one glance towards her before Sukuna’s suddenly before her beaten form, crouching down to assess the damages.

“Now, which one of these insolent freaks did this to you?” He asks, tilting his head as his Reverse Cursed Technique took effect over her wounds with haste.  “I’ll start there” 

“N-none of them,” She stammers out, even though it’s the truth.

For the first time, she considers that she should be afraid of Sukuna.  The other three are still trembling even from their distance, barely letting themselves breathe in his presence.

All she’s ever felt towards Sukuna is irritation, perhaps mild vexation, but mostly he just confused her.  But now, she can feel the abundant amount of cursed energy wafting off of him, and despite his history in sparing her life and taking an interest in her, she briefly wonders if this is the moment he changes his mind.

The thought passes in a matter of seconds, when a pair of hands are gently aiding her in sitting upright.  Even with his technique healing her wounds, there are still aches and pains that make her wince.  Shards of glass falling from her skin as the healing tissue forces them out, bruises that still sting when she moves too quickly before their nasty colors disappear completely.

And Sukuna regards her with an expression she’s never seen before, but it makes her heart lurch in her chest.  It’s concern.  His brows are knotted, and his eyes are scanning over her repeatedly to make sure no injury was left on her body.  This was followed by sizable hands mapping over her carefully just to double check.

She should be afraid, but she’s not.  

In fact, as soon as those vermillion eyes return to hers, all she can feel is relief.

And she doesn’t think twice before she’s darting forward on achy knees, her arms wrapping around his neck and the rest of her body colliding into his so harsh it knocks the wind out of her for a moment, but she doesn’t mind panting to catch her breath again.  She embraces Sukuna as tightly as she can, as though he’s the only savior she’s ever known, an angel painted in pure white rather than the corrupted being he truly was.

Sukuna has half a mind to grab her by the neck and remove her from him with a snarl about how her injuries were still healing, but instead he wraps an arm around her, his hand smoothing over the tattered back of her uniform.

She could only imagine what the three at the end of the corridor were thinking, watching the King of Curses embrace such a weak sorcerer.

“You understand now, don’t you sweetheart?” He asks her quietly, and she manages a small nod against his chest, before her hands tighten into fists at the red hood that lies between his shoulder blades.  “It’s been a rough night, hasn’t it?” He muses, and when (y/n) doesn’t give him a response this time, he uses his free hand to pry her face away from his shirt, hooking her chin under his finger so that she’d meet his eyes.

Rough night didn’t even begin to cover what she’d been put through, what was she supposed to say? 

“It’s alright now, my love, I’m here,” 

Those words from him shouldn’t bring her the amount of comfort that they do.  The tears in her eyes begin to drip down her cheeks.  Sukuna’s smiling as he brushes them away, and despite her better judgment, she leans into the touch, seeking out even more comfort.  He chuckles at the sight, but humors her as he cups the side of her face in his palm, cradling her head with the gentleness of holding a flower by it’s petals.

She won’t admit it, not now anyways, but she knows deep down that there is no force on this earth greater than the swell of love in her chest right now.  It’s something she’s not sure should ever be voiced, but she has a feeling that Sukuna will find a way to draw it out of her anyways.  Just as he’s made her trust him, just as he’s made her confide in him, he’s bound to find a way into drawing the confession out of her as well.

Perhaps it’s her own fault, too.  Hiding the way a part of her believed everything he’s ever said to her, hiding the way it made her feel to know that she was so loved by a force so strong and unstoppable that he’d scour the earth after every lifetime in order to find her again.

I think the feelings you have for me in every beginning come from your soul’s memory, he’d said.  But I think deep down, you know that you trust me.

She stares at him now knowing all of this to be true, and Sukuna can almost see every thought in her dilated eyes, swallowed nearly whole by dark pupils as she clings to him now.

With a brush of his lips to the crown of her head, he makes her a promise that she’ll live through this horrid night yet.

She still holds onto him when he stands, and he lifts her up with ease, cradling her to his chest like she was merely a small and frightened child.  The only unease she felt now was knowing what fates were in store for the three at the end of the hall, who Sukuna had set his sights on first.

“Now, let’s take this one on together, sweetheart, shall we?” 

Her own fate was still unknown to her, but sealed in place long ago.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ cause i love to love to love to love you // i hate to hate to hate to hate you ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie

a/n: thinkin about writing a snippet of their past live(s) or something. i wanted to add something like that to this fic but i wanted the reader to feel unsure if they really could trust him soooo it went a diff route. idk don't hold me to it. i'm just a girl.

[rubyin-wonderland]

Tattoos

opla!Zoro x gn!reader

Summary: Zoro likes your tattoos, and is excited to see your newest one

WC: 2.3k

Warnings/tags: brief mention of needles, that's it

Zoro's fingers traced gently up and down your arm, along the tentacles of a jellyfish that had been inked into your skin. You lay on his chest, fast asleep, lulled into this calm by the rocking of the sea and his gentle embrace. Zoro liked touching your tattoos. He thought they were fascinating.

They reminded him of his scars, in a way. They told stories. Stories etched on your skin for the world to see. His scars told tales of fights, of danger and fury. Your tattoos told stories of your life. The people you knew, the things you'd done, the places you'd been. He never regretted a scar, and you never regretted a tattoo.

You only had tattoos to reminded you of important things. To remind you of your past. Your people. The jellyfish reminds you of your home, the friendly little cove packed with harmless jellyfish that used to tickle your legs when you swam with them, getting your first taste of adventure.

You had plenty of tattoos besides that one, and when Zoro was bored, he liked to touch one and ask for its story. You always obliged him.

You'd been asleep for a while, so when you finally woke up, you stretched involuntarily, elbow sliding up and knocking Zoro's jaw. "Shit! Sorry." You mumbled, your hand moving to hold the spot you just abused.

"You're fine." He said, moving out of your way as you woke up fully. You stretched until your joints cracked and you fell back down on top of him, comfortable.

You then moved your eyes to the floor, for your shirt, which had been discarded earlier, when you couldn't handle the heat anymore.

You found it and pulled it towards you to put it back on. Zoro's hand stopped you. "Hmm?" You asked the question without a word. He pointed at your shoulder, where two hand drawn stars sat next to each other.

You sighed, but laid back against his bare chest again, shirt across your lap, your hand naturally touching the area. "I got these from my two closest friends from back home. I asked them to draw one star each before I left, and then got them tattooed at the first island I went to."

You looked up at Zoro. "Are you satisfied?" He pressed a kiss to your lips. "Yes." "Good, because I have to get dressed." His arms wrapped around to trap you, but you managed to evade him, taking a step away from the bed, just out of reach.

"Not so fast, swordsman, we're only going to be docked at this island for one more day, and I've got things to do."

You had to leave him alone for the surprise to work. He complained, but you promised him you'd be back in time for dinner, hoping he didn't see the slip of paper sticking out of your pocket.

It had been a while since you'd been at a village that had a tattoo artist, and you had instantly made plans.

Today was the day. You walked into the shop, placing the drawing on the counter. "Can you do this?" The woman at the front took a look from the paper to your face. "Sit down."

And so you once again sat in a chair while an artist slowly inked your skin to perfection. This one was on the inside of your bicep, and although you had become relatively accustomed to the pain, you would always feel the perpetual sting of the needle.

After hours of work and a few minutes to recuperate, you were ready to go. You thanked the artist, tipped them kindly, and headed back to the ship. The sleeve of your shirt covered the bandage put over the tattoo, protecting the ink from any outside factors until it had set in. You knew Zoro was bound to see it, and his curiosity would get the better of him, as it always did when it came to your ink stained skin.

You did arrive in time for dinner, arm aching, but heart feeling pretty good about what you had done.

You ate dinner with only slight banter between Zoro and Sanji, which calmed down immediately after you rested a hand on Zoro's thigh, a warning squeeze given to make sure he knew what he was getting into.

When night fell, you were luckily not scheduled for night watch, and neither was Zoro, which meant the two of you were able to hold each other all night long.

When you removed your shirt, Zoro immediately noticed the bandage. "What happened?" He demanded, worried if you had gotten hurt. "Nothing, it's a surprise."

Zoro raised an eyebrow, knowing it was a tattoo by the very glint in your eye. "What is it?" "Wouldn't you like to know?"

He stepped forward, an arm carefully looping around your waist. "I would." He rested his chin on your shoulder, nose gently brushing your neck.

"Well you're just going to have to wait." You danced out of his reach, giving him a teasing smile. "You can ask about any of the others, I'm an open book." You said, sitting on the edge of your bed. "But I want to see what's on this page." He insisted.

"I got this one in honour of my mother, did you know that?" You pointed at a small heart on the back of your wrist. "Got it because everyone said she wore her heart on her sleeves. And I got this one-" you pointed at a small dragonfly below your ribs, "after losing a beloved travel companion."

Zoro drew closer. "I know those stories, what is this one?" He tapped the bandage curiously. You wrapped your arms around him, kissing him gently. "I guess you'll have to wait to find out."

The weeks of healing did nothing but ramp up Zoro's excitement for the reveal of your tattoo. The rest of the crew slowly learned of its existence (Sanji told them all immediately after seeing you in a tank top post-workout) and everyone was excited to see the addition to the artistry on your body.

Zoro fared the worst, trying every manner of ways to get you to spill the beans about the patch of skin hidden under that bandage.

At first, he had tried to trick you into telling him, pointing at random tattoos, then moving to the patch on your arm.

"This one." A cloud dripping rain. "Got lost in a storm and nearly died." "This one." A crudely drawn smiley face. "A young girl in one of the first places I traveled with you gave that drawing to me."

"This one." The pad on your bicep. You tutted at him gently. "I got that one recently. The story is hardly over yet, is it?" Zoro just grumbled, poking a tattoo on your side, then ticking the skin. "Ah! Zoro stop!" You tried to squirm away from him, but he pulled you back in. Eventually, your squeals were loud enough to have Sanji burst into your room, afraid something bad had happened to you. That was the end of that.

When his initial plan failed, Zoro tried to make you jealous. He ignored you when possible. You just laughed at the fact his foolish attempt to make you desperate for him backfired and had him crawling back to you after only one day.

After one whole day of sitting away from you during meals, working out on his own and moving away from you when you tried to nap with him, Zoro entered your bedroom, seeing you reading your newest book.

"Good evening, my beloved Zoro, are you going to ignore me in bed too?" You asked, crossing your arms, a finger keeping your place in the book. "Or shall you sleep in another room?"

"Shut up." He pressed his lips to yours and you expertly picked up your bookmark from your bedside, slotting it into your book, and setting the book on the nightstand before draping your arms around Zoro's neck and kissing him back twice as hard.

"When did you start to break?" You asked into his ear with a smile. "After lunch, when I napped alone." He replied, kissing your neck, his breath warming you. "Nice try, Zoro." "Fuck you." "I love you too."

Finally, he just started begging. Any time you were alone, he would just ask stubbornly.

"What is it?" "I'm not telling you." "What is it?" "Zoro, darling." You caressed his cheek, that combined with your pet name making him shiver. "I'll uncover it in front of you so you can see it first. I'll make sure no one else is in the room so you'll be the only one to see it, okay?"

He liked the sound of that, but it didn't satiate his curiosity.

When the day you removed the covering for good finally arrived, Zoro was practically shaking to see what it was.

The two of you were in your room. You sat on the bed, and Zoro stood in front of you, arms crossed nonchalantly, as if he didn't actually care. But you knew better. You knew that he was so glad to know the wait was over.

"I need you to take a deep breath." You instructed, making sure he was calm before seeing your arm.

He did. He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword and an involuntary smile took over your face. You'd been just as excited as he was for this moment.

You peeled back the padding and exposed the tattoo to him. He took your arm carefully, examining the new patch of ink.

Three sheathed swords crossed over each other. Intricate patterns decorate the hilts and the sheaths, perfectly identical to the ones hanging from his hip.

You had studied his belt many times in order to get the details just right for your design.

Zoro's heart stopped for a second as he processed what you had just showed him. He stared for a while, trying to understand.

"I got this one for the love of my life." You explained gently, your heart beating anxiously in your chest. "He's a swordsman. A damn good one. He's going to be the best in the world." Zoro remained unmoving. "I love him."

Zoro just looked up at your face. There was an intensity in his eyes that showed you every emotion he was feeling. "I love you too." He reached up and pressed his lips to yours. Passionate. That was the first word to come to mind.

He damn near tackles you onto the mattress. You feel fluttery. It had been well worth the wait.

His kisses trail down your neck and across your shoulder until his lips touch the inside of your bicep, the spot that holds the swords.

"Was it worth waiting for?" You ask, looking down at him. To answer, he just returns his lips to yours. You can sense his barely contained excitement. He is actually smiling on your lips. He's giddy.

"Wait until the stupid chef sees this." He says breathlessly, his lips parting from your body just long enough for you to capture him in a kiss.

"Tell me more about that tattoo." He begs as he flips you over him, manoeuvring your bodies so his back is pressed against the bed and you lay on top of him, arms circling around his head so he can see the tattoo in the corner of his eye.

"Well I already told you, but I'm deeply in love with this swordsman," you look into the distance dreamily as you give your explanation. He continues to kiss you as you speak. "And I love him so much, it's impossible to express with words. No other person has made me feel like this. He's got this smile that makes my stomach flip, and the prettiest eyes. Don't even get me started on how he looks when he's fighting." Zoro gives you a cocky smile.

He pulls back, sitting up. You follow suit, sitting back on your knees, watching as he pulls the collar of his shirt away, revealing a rough scar digging into his right shoulder. "Can I tell you about this scar?" You laugh, but nod anyway, knowing everything about that scar, from the person who gave it to him to the final bandage that was wrapped around it.

"The love of my life was fighting by my side." You move forward, pressing yourself sideways against his chest, looping an arm around his neck, your hand hovering over his scar. "And some asshole tried to stab them." You fake a gasp. "So, idiot that I am, I shoved my body in the way." As you listen, your hand gently brushes over his scar the same way he caresses your tattoos.

"What did the love of your life think of that little stunt?" You ask, teasing.

He sighs. "They thought I was stupid for risking myself but I don't mind it one bit. It's a small price to pay for their life."

"And what did they do when they saw you had been injured?" "They saw what the asshole had done and killed him."

He turns to look at you, pulling you close. "They are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Every day they impress me and they inspire me to keep going. To get stronger, be better. Not just for myself. For them. If I were to lose them, I don't know what I would do with myself." You gently rub the scar again. "I'm not going anywhere Zoro."

"I love you so much." He mumbles. "I don't say it often, but-" "I know." You reassure, pressing one last kiss to his lips. "I know."

He holds you close for a bit and you feel him press his lips to the soft skin of your bicep again. He really likes the tattoo.

"Now, would you like to rub this in the stupid chef's face?"

Zoro grins once more. "Yes."

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Fast Food Snack

My story starts with a close, but I'm hungry...

An intimidating glare from the baggy-eyed manager tells me to back the fuck off, but I have no intention of leaving. I'm starving and this asshole has no idea who he's staring at! After all, how could an old fast-food worker named Darryl know that I just discovered the ability to control dumb little minds like his?

"Open up," I say, licking my lips at the feeling of inserting myself into his head.

Mind control isn't like how it's portrayed in movies. I don't just snap my fingers and bring victims into a vacantly drooling state. No! It's much more invasive than that, and it's much, much more unpleasant for my poor targets. Imagine a sickeningly stiff presence pushing through the back of your skull. It shoves your own ideas and intentions aside, ripping away the control you had over your body. You probably always took that control for granted, but now you can't cause so much as the blinking of an eyelid. Most people spend their time in my thrall screaming internally.

Being sidelined in your own body takes some getting used to, and Darryl isn't enjoying it in the slightest. Nevertheless, I use his hands to unlock the front door and invite myself inside.

"Please, come in," I make his gravelly voice speak, "Can I suck your dick as an apology?"

I feel the man cringe on the inside. He hates hearing and feeling his own mouth make such a vulgar offer, but his stoic face doesn't crack. This idiot is trapped inside his own mind while I get to puppet around his body. I don't even have to tell him what to do.

"Maybe later," I pinch the manager's cheek, "Let's get you deep-fried and seasoned first."

With a vice grip on his brain, I steer the fast-food worker off to do my bidding. Humiliating my playthings is the perfect appetizer...

Darryl spends the next few minutes collecting all the leftover food from the garbage, dumping it all over himself. The manager doesn't stop there, proceeding to lay on the floor and rub all the grease and ketchup into his clothes. That trademark glare stays frozen on his face the entire time he soaks in the day's old fries and ketchup.

"I'm a messy little bitch," he states blandly from the ground, "And an ugly, dumb, low-life."

His words make me chuckle, even though I'm the one making him say it. My metaphorical arm is rammed up his ass like a ventriloquist with a dummy. It's also me that's puppeting his hands to rub the food into the pits of his polo and the crotch of his khakis.

"You really should've just let me inside," I purr with my own mouth, "Now I'm gonna make you act like a messy bitch forever."

Darryl's face remains unbothered, but I feel the real man panic inside. If he had control over his eyes right now, they would be bulging in pure terror. Instead, they gaze passively back at me from the floor.

"Boss? Where'd you go?" a smooth voice interrupts my fun with Darryl.

A tall, dark, and handsome young man walks out from the back kitchen. His thick arms and bushy beard make me salivate. The name tag on his juicy pec reads 'Josh' but there's plenty of other things I'd rather call a stud like him.

"I thought you said we'd leave early if we got everything cleaned up," he grunts quietly.

The handsome fool is too preoccupied with wiping down tables to notice his manager rolling in grease and condiments. Briefly glimpsing in his mind tells me that he wants to finish his shift as quickly as possible, but I won't be letting him off work any time soon.

He jumps when he finally notices me, startled to find a customer still lurking after closing hours. His scowl shortly returns to his face as he pushes out his chest to address me.

"We're closed. You need-" his voice cuts as I commandeer his heavy body and thick neck.

With me in control, Josh's autonomy is squeezed into a corner of his skull, but he still retains all his senses; feeling his muscles relax, licking his salty lips, taking a deep breath of greasy air, and staring at his new master. I make him walk forward until his bulging chest is brushing against my own.

"I can give you a much better show than that dried-up, old, dishrag," I make him say, gesturing to Darryl with his broad hands, "My man-tits are fat and juicy just for you. Let me be your little slut. Fuck me like the breedable piece of meat I am."

Internally, Josh is furious, but his voice doesn't waver as he delivers the words I wrote for him. He's like a Ken doll I'm playing with, only none of it is pretend.

"I think I'd prefer dinner and a show," I giggle, "Why don't we let that dried-up, old, dishrag fuck your ass. He is your boss, after all."

Josh doesn't visibly react to the idea. He doesn't wince or crack the scowl I'd left on his handsome face. He just marches to the back and lays himself out on the dirty floor. Darryl follows, per the instructions I'm pumping into each of his limbs.

"Give it to me hard, boss," Josh says in a low monotone.

"Prepare for a rough ride, muscle-slut." Darryl answers his employee dryly.

Of course, internally, both men are freaking out. It's hard to tell who's more panicked; the manager who's about to dog-fuck his employee, or the roided up gym-rat who's about to take it like a bitch. Darryl wants nothing more than to pull Josh off the floor and run out of the building, but I hold his body firmly in place, making the man unbuckle his stained khakis like he's about to get lucky. Josh is the same, desperately trying to break free and attack, but I've got full control over his bulky body. I make him stick out his tongue and lick the floor like a pathetically horny animal. He still has to taste every inch.

"Papa's ready for ya," Darryl moans, pulling out the cock I easily inflated to full mast.

"Hurry Papa!" Josh squirms as he thumbs his pants below his wiggling bubble butt.

"What the hell?" a nervous voice stutters.

Turning, I find a much less impressive man walking into the kitchen. His name tag reads 'Aaron' and he must've been bullied into cleaning the bathrooms for the last twenty minutes. He's missed a lot, but it doesn't take long for me to catch him up.

"I'm enjoying a meal here!" I bite, mildly annoyed, "Shut up and make yourself useful."

His mind folds instantly to my efforts, and I know exactly how to put him to use. Aaron snaps his mouth, marches around before me, and kneels. Without a single breath of pause, his hands unzip my jeans and pull out my aching penis. He swallows it whole, bobbing his head expertly. Aaron's never done this before, but I've had a few blow jobs and I know exactly how I like it; with a throat wide open and lips at the base.

"Continue," I sigh in pleasure towards Josh and Darryl.

The pair unfreeze, resuming the messed up porno I'm forcing them to star in. The manager leans into Josh's back and enters him from behind. "You're gonna have to take Daddy's dick every time we close. Got it, boy?" he grunts down at his employee. The bearded stud looks up to his boss, and sucks some of the various condiments out of the man's stained shirt. "Yes, sir. I want to end every day like this, here, with you inside me." Darryl continues slapping his groin into Josh's splayed rear, pushing the younger man's face against the cold damp floor.

It isn't long before Aaron's expert dick-sucking leaves me cumming in his stomach. Finally, I'm satiated. "FfuuuuUUUuuuUucck..." I grunt out a long guttural moan of relief.

When my eyes flutter open, I see the mess I've left in this little restaurant...

The three men stop with the act; Aaron pauses, my dick still halfway down his throat; Josh freezes in the middle of writhing with fake pleasure; Darryl even ceases his brutal rape of his employee despite never reaching a climax. None of it matters anymore. My rocks have gotten off, so my little puppet show is over. I'm left with three terrified fast-food workers with broken wills.

"Sorry guys," I pull away and zip up my pants, "I get a little carried away when I'm horny."

"It's, ok," they all answer back nonchalantly, but I can hear their true thoughts screaming, locked away somewhere in their minds.

With a wave of my hand, I wipe the experience from their memories. I turn off their consciousness and set Darryl, Josh, and Aaron on autopilot. Like actors in a bad hypnotism movie, they rise and get back to their nightly chores. This time, their jaws are slack and their eyes are vacant. They'll finish closing down the restaurant and go home, where they'll scrub themselves clean and get a long night of rest. By tomorrow, all of the psychological and physical remnants of what I've done will be gone.

For them, it'll be like I never set foot inside this place. For me, I'll have to pretend that I didn't just become an evil and sadistic super villain. I never did end up eating any food, but I did satisfy some sort of hunger inside me...

...at least for now.

I let my urges get the better of my powers. Being a mind controller is hard. I can barely even control my own mind at times. Wandering away from the isolated, little, restaurant, I wonder how long it'll take before I lose control of myself again...

To be continued?

[scoobyrooster1]

She's Mine [Part 1]

Qimir x (she/her)!reader

Summary: Events take place after episode 8 of the acolyte. You are Qimirs new acolyte after agreeing to train under him. But, first you both must escape to the outer rim and outrun the Jedi who now hunts you. A precarious situation arises when you suddenly owe a debt to the local gunrunner... but it could be just the opportunity you've been hoping for. Now you have to break the news to Qimir... Shit. Warnings: Angst, Angry Qimir, cursing Notes: I plan for this to be a slow burn story between you and Qimir. Haven't officially decided on a permanent title yet. And yes there will be plenty of future smut but I wanna do this right!

*Im trying my best to use canon history but high republic era is a little difficult so there will be discrepancies and times where I have to improvise... bear with me!

She's Mine [Intro] She's Mine [Part 1] She's Mine [Part 2]

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The Republic's influence and reach were stronger than ever, and with that came the ever-present shadow of the Jedi. Since narrowly escaping Vernestra on Brandok, the last few months had been a blur. You were never truly safe. Settling down had been more a matter of necessity than comfort, and even then, "settling" was a stretch.

You were still trapped within the confines of Republic space. Your ship's transponder was a liability, a beacon that couldn’t slip past any checkpoints unnoticed. The only real refuge was the Outer Rim, far from the vigilant eyes of the Jedi and the ever-watchful Republic. But the closest jump to Hutt space was out of reach, forcing you to land on the barren sands of Jakart.

The Jedi were already scouring the galaxy for any sign of force discrepancies, even in the most remote backwater planets. And you both couldn't very well lead them back to Qimirs home. So, you made the choice to hide in plain sight, settling in a place where the noise of a thousand other lives could drown out your presence. Jakart, with its swarms of thugs, scavengers, and criminals, was the perfect cover. Here, you could disappear into the crowd, becoming just another face. But you knew that this was a temporary solution; the longer you stayed, the more you pushed your luck, and the longer you went without proper training.

You didn’t know when—or if—another opportunity like Ian’s would come along. Passage to the Outer Rim on a ship that could evade Republic scouts was a rare gift, one that you couldn’t afford to lose But now, you had to face the hard part: breaking the news to Qimir.

As you scanned into the small, cramped building you and Qimir now called home, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. The door slid open with a hiss, and you stepped inside, the faint hum of the city’s underbelly muffled by the walls. You pulled off your cloak, shaking off the fine layer of dust that clung to it, a grim reminder of the harsh environment outside. Your eyes stung from the grit of the sand, and you rubbed them wearily. It had been a long, grueling day.

The dimly lit room felt stifling, the walls pressing in with the weight of the choices you had to make. You tossed the cloak aside and took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before the inevitable conversation. Qimir wasn’t going to like what you had to say, but there was no other option.

The sound of Qimir moving around in the next room broke your train of thought. You squared your shoulders, pushing down the fatigue, and stepped forward.

There he stood. Looking at you through wisps of black hair, slick with sweat. His eyes, which you once thought were brown, seemed almost black now, with a sharpness that felt more predatory than human.

"You're back." He exclaimed.

"I picked up some Jogans." You tilted your head in the direction of the small table in the corner.

"Feeling hungry after that mug today?"

You only sighed in response.

"That thug tried to take my shit... Would you have rather I just let him walk away?"

He tilted his head back in frustration, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed whatever distaste was rising in his throat.

"How many times do I have to remind you that our survival here banks on our ability to lay low."

"About that..."

His eyes locked on you, demanding an explanation.

"I found a ship that can take us to the outer rim, under the radar."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise "the pilot you found wasn't a bust after all."

You bristled at his tone, almost offended by his doubt. These past few months had shown how strained the relationship could become. It felt more like a game of cat and mouse, and you hated losing.

"Not exactly."

He continued to stare at you through his eyebrows. Why did he always have to stare at you like that.

"A smuggler can get us there."

"who's the smuggler."

He didn't waste any time. You tensed. Ian was the last name you wanted to give. But thats where this was headed anyways. You just had to bite the bullet.

"Ian Skynyr."

Even the name tasted bad on your tongue.

His jaw twitched.

Jeez this was gonna a difficult one to swallow.

"Skynyr." He repeated.

He took a long pause before continuing. "No."

"This is our only shot. You know as well as I do that a freighter like his could secure us both passage safely off of Jakart. I just have to help him out then we can---"

"Help him with what exactly." He cut you off.

You froze.

"Its just a job." You stated casually.

"What kind of job."

"Obtaining and transporting cargo to some client." You brushed it off as if it were a mere fly buzzing past your ear.

"What else."

"Thats all he told me."

"Details matter y/n."

"No they don't matter... because this might be our only chance to get to the outer rim."

"Whatever debt he thinks you owe him... forget it. Skynyr is an idiot. Wherever he goes a blaster target follows him."

"I know, I know. I trust him about as far as I can throw him. But he's all we've got. So, I'm doing it."

"And the deal we made?"

"What about it? I'm not going back on anything. So being your acolyte is following whatever you say regardless? Can you not trust me on this?"

He grimaced.

"No. It means don't fall into a mess I have to pull you out of."

"I can handle myself just fine. I thought Brandok proved that."

"Brandok only revealed how reckless you are right now."

Did the death of your old master, at your own hands, prove nothing to him?

No.

You were bartering with a man that had no interest with the rest of what you had to say. But no matter how much he disliked this plan or how much of a headache your existence seemed to him at this moment... he couldn't resist the appeal of Ians secure passage through Republic space.

"Do you have any better ideas then?"

He sighed, finally breaking eye contact and looking down at the floor. His posture slumped as he leaned against the wall, just as exhausted as you were.

"If you can come up with one, I wont take Ians offer. Otherwise we should take this deal."

You didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, you walked into the next room, slumping onto the small cot that had been your bed for the past few weeks.

You imagined that the only reason he didn't follow was because he knew the truth, which was that you both had no idea when another chance like this would arise. He was just angry it involved working for Ian.

You replayed what Qimir had said to you.

Brandok only revealed how reckless you are right now.

You realized that killing your old master did prove your commitment. But to Qimir it also unearthed how little he truly knew you. And something he couldn't predict or control... that probably terrified him.

Good.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You basically had to drag Qimir to the landing platform where Ians team was meeting. The air was filled with hyper fluid and gases that singed your nostrils. It reminded you of your old post fixing up freighters like the one that now towered before you. Although, that life now felt like it belonged to someone else.

Ian practically beamed when he saw you both approach, his voice cutting through the cacophony of the buzzing platform. "Glad to see you made it."

You only gave him a small nod in return face remaining neutral.

The rest of the crew were people you recognized from around the bazaar.

The Transdoshan known as Kiro. His presence was intimidating, standing at an imposing 6'7", with a build that suggested he could break bones as easily as he could snap his scaly talons.

Next to him was Shaun, a grizzled sharpshooter. He gave you a curt nod, acknowledging your presence with the little care.

A droid, its model old but well-maintained, stood quietly beside them. You couldn’t quite place its make, but it looked functional and that’s all that mattered.

And Ian. Your point of contact - begrudgingly so.

"Our buyer is interested in a rarity being sold at auction tomorrow on Carinth. Job is to secure the cargo and transport it. We'll rendezvous with him on Canto Bight."

"how do you intend to secure the bid. I'm guessing you don't have nearly enough credits to bid on something that an anonymous buyer wants"

Your skeptic tone was thinly veiled.

"Who said anything about bidding with actual credits."

"So what, you yell fire and then grab it in the chaos?"

"Our operation is a little more refined than that."

Qimir scoffed earning a frown from Ian.

Kiro growled, lacing his arms together in a tight cross obviously put off by Qimirs severe lack of respect for any of them.

"The buyer is willing to pay whatever sum for the item plus our services. But he doesn't want to be tied to the acquisition of the aforementioned cargo. So we're going to act as his ambassador of sorts"

"And how do you intend to make the highest bid."

"Rod here is going to take care of that." He gestured to the droid. "So no matter what you have the highest bid."

"Wait, that I have the highest bid?"

"Well Yord was supposed to be the stand in for the auction and canto bight but he's kinda occupied right now."

It took everything in you to bite your tongue.

"You said this was a simple job." You bristled.

"It is."

"You never said anything about impersonating a bidder."

"You didn't ask sweetheart."

Qimir clenched his jaw.

"Yord normally keeps a low profile which made him the best suited for the stand in. Unlucky that he broke his streak on trying to rob you"

"I'll be recognized."

"Where we'll be, no one is going to give two bactas about who you are. These aren't the type of joints where saints congregate. Jedi will be the least of your worries."

"Why are the Jedi looking for you two anyways." Shaun questioned suddenly very interested in the conversation.

"Thats none of your concern."

Shaun put his hands up realizing that you weren't one to answer pointed questions.

"Whats the item I'll be bidding on."

"that also happens to be none of your concern either."

"If we're doing this job I need more information to make sure were not walking into anything we can't walk out of."

"Even if I wanted to I couldn't tell you. The item only goes by its bidding number and the client wont share beyond that. Also I don't really care what it is... as long as I get paid. You're now the stand in on Carinth and Canto Bight, and thats all I'll hear of it."

"Why was it Yord? why me?"

"There's a strong likelihood that the rest of us aren't exactly on the best terms with some of the attendees frequenting the auction, especially not in Canto Bight. We need someone who’s not a big player—or better yet, someone who’s completely unknown. The client insists on absolute secrecy. The fewer issues we encounter and questions we face, the better."

You couldn't deny that everything he stated made sense for a job such as this.

"So what happens when they find out the credits being transferred are fake?"

"Thats when we blast out of there like a bat out of hell."

You almost smirked. You hated to admit it but the chase excited you.

"So you're what is considered a big player?" You replied mockingly.

"Ouch." He pretended to take a knife to the heart.

"Fine."

"And just because I like you so very much y/n I'll let the two of you split Yords share."

"How generous of you, Ian." You swallowed your words with disdain.

"I like to think so." he smiled with great satisfaction. "Be here at 05:00."

Before you could nod your head, Qimir had already turned on his heal heading towards the exit.

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"Whatever you have to say, go ahead. Get it out."

Qimir said nothing as you followed him down the ally. Though you could almost read the back of his head.

"Well if you're going to brood about it at least -"

Before you could get your next words out, you were slammed against the wall. The impact knocked the air from your lungs, and you barely had time to react before his hands pinned your arms to your sides, his grip like iron.

"This isn’t my fault," you gasped.

"Of course it isn’t," his voice was dripping with sarcasm.

You could feel the anger radiating off him. He continued.

"Skynyr is trouble, and nothing but. That makes him dangerous."

"And what are we exactly?" you shot back, your voice tinged with defiance. "What are we?"

"You know what we are," he replied. His tone was cold, as if stating an undeniable truth.

"So when did smugglers become the biggest, baddest thing in the galaxy? In the dark, there’s nothing to fear but us."

"Maker, you’re naive," he spat. "He’s more trouble than he’s worth."

"You’re right," you conceded, though your voice was steady with what you said next. "The sooner we leave the sooner we can continue training. And he’s our best shot out of here."

His jaw clenched, and his teeth bared in a snarl. The rage in his eyes was palpable, and for a moment, you felt a shiver run down your spine. He tightened his grip, pressing you harder against the cold, unforgiving wall. The proximity, the force, everything about the moment screamed danger, yet you held your ground.

"The only reason I’m willing to go along with this little drama," he whispered, a lethal calm overtaking him, his face inches from yours, "is because of that damn republic transponder. Maker knows who else has one... Maybe this trip will teach you a valuable lesson, my young apprentice."

Those last three words hung in the air like dead bodies.

Ghosts.

Ones that constantly haunted you.

My young apprentice.

It wasn’t just a title; it was a reminder of everything you had left behind when you walked away from the Order. He was asserting his authority, reminding you of what you were to him—and more importantly, what he was to you. The unspoken command was clear: Don’t forget it.

You could see the words of warning in his eyes.

"Yes, Master," you whispered.

He stared at you for a moment longer, as if to ensure you truly grasped the gravity of your position. He loosened his grip and pushed himself away from you, storming off toward the compound.

You remained against the wall for a few seconds longer, the echoes of the encounter still reverberating through your mind. The word “Master” clung to you like a weight.

The next morning you both had packed everything you owned... which was very little. But it wasn't the material things that weighed you down. Qimir lashed out at you for a good reason. It was the uncertainty, the sense that you were stepping into something that could very well get you both killed.

Or worst captured.

Maker help me. You whispered.

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Thats it for today! Hope you liked it! If your feeling it, let me know what you think in the comments.

[geotjwrs]

Hi mate. Can you please do a Jenna Ortega x Male Reader

Both of them have always had a enemies relationship since they were little kids, they always competed against each other. But couple of years later when they both are 21, they get casted together in the Wednesday show and Emma and Georgie see that they won’t get along so they trap them into a room for the whole day making both of them resolve and admit that they love each other. And you can finish the story with a couple years in the future where they get married. You can pick 🫡

behind our shadows

Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; none

From the moment Y/N and Jenna met in elementary school, they were rivals. Whether it was competing for the top spot in spelling bees, racing each other during recess, or even vying for the best grades, the two seemed destined to clash. Their competitive streaks continued through middle school and high school, where they joined opposing teams in every club or activity they were a part of.

Now, at 21, Y/N and Jenna were both rising stars in the acting world. Their paths crossed once again when they were cast together in the highly anticipated "Wednesday" show, with Jenna reprising her role as Wednesday Addams and Y/N playing a new character introduced to shake things up.

The first few days on set were rough. Jenna and Y/N's old rivalry resurfaced quickly, creating an awkward atmosphere for everyone around them. Emma and Georgie, who played Enid and Ajax respectively, could sense the tension and knew something had to be done.

"Those two are impossible," Emma whispered to Georgie during a break. "They're going to ruin the show with their constant bickering."

Georgie nodded. "We need to do something to make them see eye to eye. But what?"

Emma's eyes sparkled with mischief. "I have an idea. But it's a little drastic."

The next day, during lunch, Emma and Georgie lured Jenna and Y/N into one of the unused rooms on set under the pretense of a meeting. As soon as they were inside, Emma and Georgie shut the door and locked it from the outside.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Jenna banged on the door.

"Yeah, let us out!" Y/N added, equally frustrated.

Emma's voice came through the door. "Not until you two sort out whatever is going on between you. We're not letting you out until you can at least be civil."

Georgie chimed in, "We have plenty of snacks and drinks out here, so take your time!"

At first, Jenna and Y/N sat in silence, glaring at each other. Minutes felt like hours as the tension grew.

"This is ridiculous," Jenna finally said, crossing her arms. "Why do we always end up like this?"

Y/N sighed. "Because you're always trying to one-up me. Ever since we were kids."

"Me? You're the one who always has to be the best at everything," Jenna retorted.

"You're just mad because I actually am the best," Y/N shot back, smirking.

"Oh, please," Jenna rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't know best if it hit you in the face."

"Is that so? At least I don't have to resort to dirty tricks to get ahead," Y/N snapped.

Jenna glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean," Y/N replied, leaning forward. "Remember the science fair in eighth grade?"

"You mean the one I won fair and square?" Jenna crossed her arms defensively.

"Fair and square? You sabotaged my project!" Y/N exclaimed.

Jenna gasped. "I did not! You're just mad because you couldn't handle a little competition."

Y/N shook his head. "You've always been impossible."

"And you've always been infuriating," Jenna retorted.

As they continued to argue, rehashing old grievances and misunderstandings from their childhood, they started to realize how much they had in common.

"Remember the time we both got detention for fighting over who got to lead the science project?" Y/N chuckled, breaking the ice a bit.

Jenna smiled for the first time. "Yeah, we were so stubborn. I think the teacher just gave up on us."

Slowly, the conversation shifted from arguments to shared memories and laughter. They talked about their dreams, their struggles, and how much they had changed over the years.

"I never hated you, you know," Jenna admitted quietly. "I just... always felt like I had to prove myself to you."

Y/N looked at her, surprised. "I felt the same way. I guess we were more alike than we thought."

As the hours passed, something changed between them. The rivalry melted away, replaced by a deep understanding and connection. Jenna looked at Y/N, her heart pounding.

"I think... I think I might actually like you," she confessed.

Y/N's eyes widened. "You know, I've been feeling the same way. I guess we were too busy competing to see what was right in front of us."

They sat in silence for a moment, letting the weight of their words sink in. Then, slowly, Y/N reached out and took Jenna's hand.

Emma and Georgie finally opened the door, peeking inside to see the two sitting close together, holding hands and talking softly.

"Looks like our plan worked," Emma whispered to Georgie.

Over the next few months, Jenna and Y/N's relationship blossomed. They worked together seamlessly on set, their chemistry undeniable. The cast and crew noticed the change, and the show's production ran smoother than ever.

Two years later, Jenna and Y/N stood in front of their family and friends, exchanging vows. The rivalry that had defined their childhood was now a distant memory, replaced by a deep, abiding love.

"I can't believe we started as enemies," Y/N said, smiling at Jenna as he slipped a ring onto her finger.

Jenna grinned back. "It's funny how life works out. I wouldn't change a thing."

As they shared their first kiss as a married couple, the crowd erupted into cheers. Emma and Georgie, standing off to the side, high-fived each other.

"We did good," Emma said, beaming.

"Yeah, we did," Georgie agreed.

Years passed, and Jenna and Y/N's love only grew stronger. They continued to work in the entertainment industry, often collaborating on projects and supporting each other's careers. They built a life filled with love, laughter, and the occasional playful competition, just to keep things interesting.

Their journey from rivals to lovers was an unexpected one, but it proved that sometimes, the person you least expect can turn out to be the love of your life.

As they sat together on their porch, looking out at the sunset, Jenna leaned her head on Y/N's shoulder.

"Do you ever miss those days when we were constantly trying to outdo each other?" she asked with a smile.

Y/N chuckled. "Not really. I like this version of us much better."

Jenna nodded in agreement. "Me too."

And with that, they watched the sun dip below the horizon, content in the knowledge that they had found their way to each other, despite all the odds.

[ikkosu]

About mermaids hihi JUST FOR YA POOKIE

Lost light crash in the middle of the ocean, but they need to get out of there bc yeah they will rust slowly bc of salty water.

Your bot is alone in his crashing aera, but the aera is your home. So when they wake up, the first thing they see is a lil curious mermaid swimming around their form.

You notice their opened optics and starts poking at their nose.

When the bot move, you flee quickly, scared, but stays close. You bring them later some colorfull shells and fish, and try to make them eat.

The bot try gently to move you over so they can continue on their journee and try to get out of there (i headcanon them as being unable to swim because way too heavy).

"Shoo, little whatever-you-are, please, i have to find my crewmates"

But even with that you stay with them, very curious and playfull. You poke their nose, tug on their digit, brush their form with yours to discover more strange things. They are weird. But really funny.

"No, no tugging on my head chevron"

"Is that for me? Why, thank you (what am i gonna do with this?)"

"What- hey, that's my wheel! You're very curious are you, little cutie?"

Long story short, the bot manage to go back to the surface with a lot of rust on their frame, systems dammaged but they're still alive, and you remained by their side all the way out. So the bot learned to like you. And don't want to leave you here. They send an SOS signal and wait on the beach for anybot to save them. And there, surprise, you get out of the water (he has a spark attack because like, you need water ???) and they see your tail becoming legs (with scales, ur not skin naked lmao).

You just cuddle his servo or hips, not showing any signs you were gonna leave. Bring them food, shells, plenty of gifts and making a nest all around you two.

After some times, they understand that it's because they reciprocated your little games you were pulling on him, like special dances, giving each other food, mimicking some of your gestures, because you always seem so happy when they were doing so. Turns out it was a mating ritual. They're accidentally mated to you. You didn't even care he was not even organic.

Regrets? Not really. Just, we are not gonna show you to Brainstorm...

-----

I HOPE MY MERMAID TAKES ARE GOOD FOR U POOKIE 🙏🙏🙏

YOUR TAKES ARE VALID!! THATS SO CUTE OMG

The bots sinking in like seven feet down into the ocean because they crashed and having those itty mermaids flutter around them, poking their nose and curling around their neck, purring.

Rodimus would be the most active bot interacting with the mermaids. If it was Megatron, I'd doubt he'd prefer to mingle — but he doesn't mind the close proximity. A few rub of his digit on their small head or a small smile is all he could muster.

Nautica would ecstatic to see one! Blushing when one of the mers would nuzzle her neck (they find that spot strangely warm and the gentle vibration is a comfortable lull to sleep.) She also made a mental note of hiding the mers if Brainstorm were ever to find out....

Luckily, he's trapped in the debris. Along, with the others.

I can imagine the small group of mermaids would help to pull aside the chunks of metal. Trilling happily when they're rewarded with a prim tousle of their head. Rodimus had already gotten so attached to the little things.

Maybe, Magnus wouldn't mind if they were to stay here a few days...

"In the ocean?" He balks. "Out of the question. The salt is going to purge through our processors and turn our insides to rust! Do you want that to happen?''

Rodimus huffs.

...Or not.

[uravitsy]

‘SUMMERTIME SADNESS’ KYŌJURŌ RENGOKU

summary. you enjoy a blissful morning with rengoku before his next mission, not knowing it would be the last time you will ever see him again ☆

warnings. fem!reader, husband!rengoku, established relationship, a tinsy bit of some romantic smut, angst, love bombs, minors dni

a/n. this is just a snippet of a story i never published. i want to challenge myself to write more angst. rengoku my beloved. :’) (this isn’t really edited btw)

"rengoku," you whispered, fingertips tracing against his smooth skin as the golden hue from the sun peeked through the curtains, dancing across your features delicately— all the while making your eyes glaze over as if it was honey. that only made your husband stare at you as if you were a goddess before him, a deity he wanted to pray to before an alter.

"yes?" he smiled up at you, voice still scratchy from waking up, "go back to sleep."

"this is our last night together, i want to make every moment count," you slowly brought your hand under the covers between you both, hands gliding across his toned thigh before moving your hand to grip his shaft gently, "i love you."

rengoku turns on his back, exposing himself further to you as his eyes were still closed, letting out a deep breath, "(y/n).."

"ren," you taunt back with his favorite nickname, pumping your husbands cock as you've done many times before, your thumb rubbing his swollen tip before repeating the words you spoke a few seconds ago, "i love you."

what would become of mornings now? how could you even relax or feel at peace when he wasn't beside you, filling up the empty space that would soon turn cold? no amount of tears could fill the jar of overwhelming sadness you would feel when he is gone.

you were sad, you were angry, but above all you were proud of him. you knew he had a job to do, a duty to those he promised to serve but it still was painful. who knows how many months he would be away off serving his country, saving the lives of people he hasn't even met just to keep the peace. who knows how long you would have to wait for his return— and that was if he returned at all.

"don't think like that," rengoku says, as if reading your mind, a few seconds of silence falls over you, "i'll be back before you know it."

"you don't know that," you whisper under your breath, glancing up at your husband as he switched positions, putting you under him so he could hover over you, the silk sheets from the bed falling past his waist as he settles in between your legs, "why do you have to go? there are plenty of hashira's that are more than capable to handle this job."

"oh? i'm not capable?" he leans down to kiss your neck, his breath against your skin making the area ticklish.

"i know you are but—"

"—but?"

"you're risking your life for someone who just commands it if you, for people who don't even know you and it's not fair. why..you?"

"(y/n)," rengoku smiles at you brightly, lacing your fingers together with his as he puts them above your head, trapping you to succumb to his every lazy desire this early morning. the both of you let out a pleasurable gasp as he slides inside you, making you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, the sheet falling even further, "i love you."

his name falls from your lips as you toss your head back, tightening your grip on his hand as he starts to rock into you— slow, deep, so you could feel everything. even though you knew it was to distract you from the inevitable, you couldn't help but enjoy it and want more.

rengoku was never quiet but on simple morning like this, where he just wanted to hold you and let the silence speak for itself. though today you didn't want sensual sex, you wanted something hard, something that'll wrack your brain to forget everything.

"harder," you moaned, looking into rengoku's eyes as he rested his forehead against yours, releasing your hands to pull your legs up. with your knees against your chest and his hands gripping your thighs in place, you were at his disposal, "r-ren!"

"focus on me," he thrusted into you, watching as his cock disappeared inside your swollen cunt, stretching to accommodate his thick girth. the sting of pleasure overtook your body and it wasn't long before the both of you fell in tune with each other's bodies, "that's it sweetheart, you're doing so good for me."

his praise already had you clenching around him every time he pulled out, as if you didn't want to let him go. rengoku moaned in pleasure, not ashamed to let you hear how good you were making him feel.

"you're so good to me, so..so good," his vibrant hair framed your face as he leaned down to kiss you. it was hot and sloppy but felt perfect nonetheless. you moaned into his mouth, tongues dancing together like a wildfire.

"i love you."

and in that moment it was so perfect.

if you could freeze time, this is where it would stop. you and rengoku just in endless bliss forever until time itself got sick of you. but you no longer felt sad but rather happy, eager for him to go so he could return home just as quick.

though if you would have known that that morning would be the last memory you had of him then maybe you would've held on just a little tighter.

URAVITSY 2024

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

🧚‍♀️ Anon

Do you know the Story of the Spider and the Fly? (It’s so perfect and creepy, I read it when I was a kid)

Yandere Drider Dio tries to trick and woo Darling into entering his Parlor (Darling is a Butterfly Hybrid or a Human)

Darling doesn’t fall for any of Dio’s tricks or seductions as she knows he’ll only eat her

However Dio ends up becoming wooed by Darling instead and has a different kind of hunger now

Dio finally has Darling in his clutches as he wraps her in his webs, only he intends to keep her in his home as his mate not his dinner like all his countless past victims

Dio has breeding on his brain

Dio would be a Golden Silk Orb-Weaver (Even his webbing would be gold colored!) and his webbing in incredibly strong

Ooh I like it, I think darling would be a blue morpho butterfly. Pretty blue and black wings that dio thought would make pretty decorations in his den after he devours her. I had to write a short little story for this.

Warning: dismemberment

"Will you come inside my palor dear? for I have many treasures inside" the golden drider spoke in such a sultry tone.

"No I shall not, for I hear rumors that none come out alive" you replied with a smile, hovering just out of the driders reach. For you knew no fancy name would ever fool you, it was his den and he was surely trying make you his next meal.

That wasn't a response he'd heard before. Most either came in or rushed away. Yet you dangled yourself just out of his grasp. He wanted to devour you and pluck of your pretty blue wings to decorate his den like he had with other parts of his victims.

You were taunting him, and he was up for the challenge.

"The rumors are false dear and you must be tired flighing all day, I offer my bed for you to rest" he cooed.

"Oh but I have heard rumor that those who slept in your bed were never to wake again" you continued smugly, you knew he would devour you but you remained out of reach.

"I thank you for offering me your hospitality sir but I must return home now" you told him before flying away. Though it would not be the last time you passed the driders den.

🦋🦋🦋

Dio noticing you were foraging for food and called out to you.

"Dear butterfly I have plenty of food inside, won't you come in and have a bite" he lulled.

"Oh I am quite alright sir, there are rumors of what is inside your pantry and do not wish to see" you replied, still just out of his reach. You were far too proud. You liked the attention and from your hight he was no predator to you.

"Well I guess I shall search else where, good bye sir" you said before leaving him again. You enjoyed playing this game just as much as he did and he had to find out how to best you.

🦋🦋🦋

"Oh how gorgeous your wings are" the other butterflies told you as they showered you in praises and shiny gifts. As you deserved for your precious wings. Staring into your reflection in the water, it was never good enough. Nothing could reflect how beautiful your wings were.

"Oh if only I could see clearly how beautiful they really are" you thought out loud, enough so that Dio heard from where he hid. Oh he had the perfect thing for you, a human mirror he'd taken for himself.

But seeing how much you were revered and how you soaked it up, perhaps weren't too different to him. You played a cute dainty role but in reality you were just as cunning as he was. However he knew now how to lure you in now.

🦋🦋🦋

"Sweet butterfly, you are a wise thing and the blue of your wings puts the sky itself to shame" he flattered you as you flew by. You stopped.

"Is that so sir? I'm very flattered" you said to the drider.

"If only you could look upon your own beauty" he continued.

"I wish I could" you told him ready to make your leave.

"I have something, a stone so smooth and shiny that it perfectly reflects. It's like staring directly at yourself" he told and you stopped again.

You shook your head. No you couldn't, it's a trap and you knew it but it tempted you. Such a thing existed, oh you had to see but you wouldn't.

"You should see for yourself that you are a brilliant gem dear butterfly" he called and you landed on your feet and approached.

He stood aside and let you enter his den and you saw it, you saw yourself so clearly. You walked closer and closer to it before you were snared in a trap.

"You, you tricked me!" You snarled at the drider.

"Oh I did not trick you, all I told you were truths dear" he chuckled as he approached you from behind.

"Now I'll be taking these, for they have kept you away from me for far too long" he said.

"What are you-!" You were cut of by a horrible pain as he tugged at one of your wings.

"No! Stop!" You wailed as you struggled in his web.

"Though they are pretty, they will only be an inconvenience" he said before tearing the first one out.

You were a wailing mess, quite literally being torn away by the thing you cared most about.

"Why not eat me first?! Why must you torture me like this?!" You screamed.

"Oh I do not intend to eat you dear butterfly, I shall take you into my web as my bride" he mused as he made work on the other wing.

Soon enough the second wing was torn and you were left a sobbing mess while he hung them in the entrance way like the pretty decorations they were meant to be.

He then returned to you, spinning his fine silk around you. Oh how arrogant you were mere minutes ago, now a sobbing mess. He took such delight in it as he dragged you deeper into his den.

[roseghoul26]

Chapter 4: Your Touch Brought Forth An Incandescent Glow

Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, Tags Updated Per Chapter Author's Note: this chapter is super dialogue heavy and sets up a backstory for the reader so if this isn’t your cup of tea sorry. i need this chapter to set up the story later on lmao. also the title did use to be different if you noticed that lmao Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay Chapter List

“Have you ever shot a gun?”

You stared at Arthur, shocked. That certainly wasn’t the question you’d expect him to greet you with today. You stood in the entrance of your home, a soaked Arthur Morgan standing on the other side. “Well, hello to you too, Arthur,” you laughed. “Why?”

“‘Cause-”

A crack of thunder tore through the conversation, shaking the frame of your house. “Get inside, please. Before you die right out here on my porch.” You stood back a few feet, giving Arthur plenty of room to come in. 

Water pooled on the floor as he stepped inside, the mat doing little to soak it up. “Sorry,” you heard him mumble, and you shook your head.

“Don’t worry about it.” Arthur leaned his head forward, and all the water from the rim of his hat hit the ground with a splash. “I’m goin’ to grab some towels,” you stated, backing up to the stairs. “Get yourself warm by the fire. And those boots better be off!”

Arthur said something in response, but you couldn’t hear him, already up the stairs. Grabbing an armful of towels, you quickly returned downstairs, surprised to find him still lingering in the entranceway. “Arthur? What’re you doin’?”

“I ain’t gonna stay a while-”

Another clap of thunder cut him off, like Mother Nature didn’t want to hear what he had to say. “Like hell you ain’t gonna stay a while. Have you been outside?” Arthur gestured to his currently soaked attire with a teasing grin. “Alright, stupid question, but my point still stands! It's horrible out there! At least try and wait it out a bit. Please.”

He had looked so adamant when he said he wasn’t going to be staying for a while, his face hard and determined, but it quickly softened when you asked him to wait it out, even more so when you said please. “Alright, darlin’.”

He began to undress, taking his jacket off first, hanging it up on the nearby coat rack. His hat and satchel were next, joining the coat on the rack, and he finally took his shoes off, which were covered in mud. More and more water hit the floor, the poor mat absolutely soaked through with it. 

You had set a majority of the towels on the back of the couch, but you still held one in your hands. Walking over beside Arthur, you dropped it beside him, soaking up what the mat couldn’t. “Go stand by the fire,” you instructed, feeling slightly victorious when he did. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him pick up one of the towels, wiping down his face and hair. He didn’t sit on one of the couches, instead choosing to sit on the rug in front of the fireplace. You were about to ask why, until you noticed the way his clothing clung to his body like a second skin, absolutely soaked, leaving little to the imagination. It was a kind gesture, to not wreck your furniture with rain water, but less than proper thoughts flashed through your mind as you observed him.

Of course he had to wear a white shirt today. You could see the muscles of his broad shoulders move as he continued to dry his hair, and you could see the way the muscles tapered down his back, powerful and entrancing to watch. You were just grateful, or disappointed, you couldn’t tell, that you weren’t able to see the way his jeans clung to his lower body. 

No longer looking at him in your periphery, you tried to ignore the way your cheeks warmed as you watched him. “What’re you doing here?” You asked, hating how raspy your voice sounded. 

Arthur looked over at you, confused. “It’s been a few days, hasn’t it?”

And it had been since his last visit. Your first dinner was almost a week ago, Arthur stopping by every couple of days like he promised afterwards. You’d chat, eat dinner, pay him, and then he’d be on his way. “I mean, yes,” you made your way over to him, grabbing a towel as you did so, “but I wasn’t expecting you to come today. I’d hate for you to get sick comin’ over here, and this late in the evening. Besides,” you glanced outside, “I highly doubt anyone’s gonna willingly come outside to cause problems.”

“Well, besides me.”

You laughed. “Are you here to cause problems, Arthur?”

“Well, that depends on how you answer my question. Have you ever shot a gun?”

Shaking your head, you responded. “Can’t say I have.”

“Then you’re gonna learn today.” Arthur stood up, discarding the towel on the floor. 

“Wha- right now?”

“No better time than the present, right?”

“I think the present is an absolutely terrible time! I ain’t steppin’ foot out there.” As if to prove your point, thunder boomed, and Arthur sighed. “Why are you adamant about me learning to shoot all of a sudden?”

“Because I ain’t always gonna be around, and I couldn’t bear… I’d hate for somethin’ to happen to you. I wanna give you a way to defend yourself.”

“Oh… I see. Well,” you sat down by where Arthur had just been, “I ain’t opposed to the idea. I’m just not doin’ it right now. Let’s see if the storm’ll let up.” You patted the ground beside you. Looking up at him, you were met with the glorious sight that was Arthur in wet, tight jeans. You knew he was a large man, but it was always hard to tell when he wore loose jeans all the time. His thighs were huge, about the size of your head, and you wanted nothing more than to sit on them, to feel them beneath you. 

When he sat back down, you could finally breathe. “I would offer you some dry clothes, but I don’t think I’ve got any that’ll fit you.”

“I appreciate the offer,” Arthur chuckled, “but you’re probably right. Besides, I ain’t so stranger to wet clothes. They’ll dry soon enough.”

You handed him the towel you’d been holding, and he took it with a small nod. Another roll of thunder shuddered the house, and you instinctively felt yourself moving toward Arthur, your shoulder brushing his arm. He didn’t make any move to create distance between you two. His wet shirt was kind of uncomfortable against your skin, but you couldn’t care less.

You watched Arthur’s eyes travel over the photographs again, this time settling on one of you and your family. You could tell he was brimming with questions, but he kept his mouth shut. You stood up, but you weren’t away from him for long, grabbing the picture he was looking at and sitting back beside him, your shoulder remaking contact.

“Meet the Van Burens,” you said, handing him the framed photo, and essentially consenting to any questions he might ask.

“Are those your parents?” He asked, pointing to the two older looking folks. 

You nodded. “Raymond and Irene. Married for thirty some years.

“And the rest are…?”

“My siblings. I’m the eldest, 17 when this photo was taken. My brother, Joseph, was born a year after me,” you pointed to him in the photo. “Next was Margaret,” you pointed again. 

You went through the rest of the rest of the photo in similar fashion, reading their name and identifying them in chronological order. The twins, Ruth and Ethel, were next, followed by Edward, Henry, John, Helen, and finally Bessie. Arthur had a slight reaction to the last name, body tensing slightly, but you didn’t ask him about it. 

“And finally, Bessie. She wasn’t even a year old in this photo.” You sniffed, and you reached a hand up to your face. Hot tears were streaming down it, and a concerned Arthur was watching you. “Shit, sorry. I…. I miss them,” you explained through the tears. “I haven’t seen them since I got married.”

“Two years?” Arthur asked, shocked. You were shocked that he remembered, having only brought it up once back in Rhodes. You nodded. “You said they were up North, right?”

You nodded again. “Around Van Horn.”

“That ain’t too far, though.”

“You think if I could’ve gone to see them, I would’ve?” You laughed bitterly. “No, I ain’t allowed to.”

“He… he doesn’t let you?” 

“No. Won’t even tell me why, either. And the worse part is, I have no way of even seeing them when he’s gone. If you didn’t notice, the only way to get anywhere for me is on foot, or gettin’ picked up by a stranger.” You wiped away another tear, but another just took his place. “And besides, I have no clue if they’re still livin’ in the same house, after all the financial troubles they went through.”

“Financial troubles?”

You forgot the general public didn’t know what you did. If anyone else would’ve asked, you would’ve shut them down, but it was so easy to tell the truth to Arthur. “Yeah, my parents went bankrupt a few years back, nearly lost everything. The house, the business, everything. So, for financial security, they set up my marriage with Hans. He gets a wife, and every month they get a substantial amount of money from him.”

Arthur didn’t respond for a good amount of time, your words processing in his head. His jaw clenched and unclenched, and there was an almost dangerous glint in his usually soft eyes. “Your parents allowed this?”

“My father was the one who married us.” You whispered. You realized that you’d never told another person your situation, and you looked at him with panic on your face. “No one knows that, though.”

“I won’t say nothin’.” Arthur promised, and you relaxed. Tentatively, you felt him reach his arm around you, settling on your waist comfortingly, pulling you into a side hug.You let him pull you into him, your head resting on his shoulder. The cold wetness of the fabric felt nice against your warm cheeks, and it hid the tears quite well.

He comforted you for a bit, hand soothingly rubbing your side. It took every ounce of self-restraint to not just climb into his lap and throw your arms around him. The idea of it was very appealing, though. 

“If you got any more questions, I don’t mind answerin’ them.” You sighed. “I haven’t been able to talk about it before, so this is… therapeutic, in a way.”

“Do your folks know?”

“Know what?”

Arthur chuckled humorlessly. “That you’re absolutely miserable for ‘em?”

“I… Well, no. I wouldn’t want them to know, anyway.”

Arthur paused for a few seconds. “You’re probably one of the most selfless people I’ve met.”

You scoffed. “If this is what it feels like to be selfless, then I don’t wanna be anymore.”

“I don’t think anyone would blame you if you were selfish.”

You shook your head. “Maybe not. But every time I think I’m gonna try and do something I want, I feel so guilty. Insurmountable guilt, something I can’t just move past.”

“And… and what do you want?” It was barely noticeable, but his voice went lower.

You. “I want… I wanted to take over my family’s tobacco farm. I wanted to travel. I wanted to fall in love.” You laugh. “I ain’t so sure what I want now. Well…” you trailed off. Were you really about to confess to Arthur? “There is one thing I do want, but there’s no way I can have it.” The ring on your hand felt like fifty pounds.

He didn’t respond, just continued to rub his hand across your back and side. You took a deep breath, and even under the rain you were able to detect that distinct scent of him; gunpowder and tobacco. Your body couldn't decide if it calmed you or made your heart race faster. 

“Do you have a family, Arthur?”

“In a way, yes.”

“In a way?” You repeated, confused.

“We ain’t blood, but we sure as hell act like a family,” Arthur explained. “There a group of us, twenty-somethin’ strong. Big group of outsiders, free from the clutches of society. Men, women, even a kid. We take care of each other. You met two of ‘em already, Dutch and Bill. Dutch’s the leader of our little group. He’s… he’s somethin’ of a father to me, as much as I hate to admit it.”

“That… that sounds nice,” you admitted. 

“It has its ups and downs.”

“Do you have any photos of them?” You asked. Arthur stilled, and you regretted your question. “You don’t have to show me nonthin’ you don’t want to.”

Wordlessly, Arthur stood, first placing your family’s photo back where it was, then walking over to where his jacket was hung up, pulling something out the satchel he kept. As he sat back down next to you, you noticed he was holding a leather journal, which you honestly weren’t expecting.

“I ain’t got any photos… but I’ve got drawings.”

“Drawings?” You rested your head back on his shoulder. “Well, now I’m intrigued.”

“They ain’t anything good,” he prefaced, and he began to thumb through the pages. “Here.” Arthur tilted the journal to you, and your breath caught. On the left page was an absolutely stunning portrait of who you recognized to be Dutch, along with a paragraph of fast cursive, the same handwriting you saw on the thank you note. On the other page was a full body sketch of an older gentleman cleaning a gun, along with some sketches of a bear and a plant, which were labeled to be English Mace.

“Oh my God, Arthur,” you hovered your fingers above the drawings, following the strokes of the pencil, “these are beautiful.”

Because you were so focused on the journal in front of you, you missed the way that Arthur blushed at your praise. “You’ve already met Dutch, and the other man’s Hosea. Him and Dutch practically raised me.” His voice turned soft, like he was reminiscing.

Clearing his throat, he flipped through a couple more pages, halting when a picture of a younger man appeared. He had longer hair, about neck length, and two angry lines cut up from his jaw, covering his nose. Another angry line cut across his mouth, cutting through the shortly cut facial here. “John Marston. Grew up with him.” You noted the way his voice was short, like he was upset with the man. 

“What happened to him?” You asked, pointing to the scars.

“Wolves nearly tore him apart. Me and Javier had to go rescue him. I don’t think I’ve gotta drawin’ of him.”

“That’s alright. Just show me who you’ve got.”

Arthur flipped the page. A woman was there, sitting on a rock. Even in the drawing, you could feel the rage in her eyes. Her expression, even though it was neutral, had such a deep feeling of grief and anger beneath the surface that it almost made you uncomfortable. “Sadie Adler. Found her up in the mountains. A gang known as the O’Driscolls killed her husband, kept her alive. Her house ended up burnin’ down, so we took her with us.”

That rage in her eyes made sense then. It was surprisingly familiar, too, as it was the same anger you saw in the mirror. “Was she who you were talking about earlier?”

It took Arthur a moment to remember what you were talking about, laughter shaking his shoulders when he did. “Sure, darlin’.”

Strange answer, you thought. “Is she… is she doin’ better?” Will I be able to move on from the events in my life?

“She is. Mad as a hornet’s nest, but she’s tough. Even goes out on jobs with us. One of the best thieves in camp.”

You felt a pang in your heart, and you realized you were envious of her. You wanted the freedom she had. “I wanna meet her,” you found yourself muttering. 

Arthur chuckled. “She said the same of you.” 

You both paused. Were you that important to him that he was telling his “family” about you? “You… they know of me?”

“Well, they kept wonderin’ where I was sneakin’ off to every couple of days,” Arthur explained, clearly not meaning to reveal that. “I didn’t tell ‘em too much, if you were worried ‘bout that.”

“I don’t mind. Just tell ‘em they ain’t allowed to rob me.”

“Oh, they know,” Arthur reassured, and you watched him thumb back to near the beginning of the journal. “I made it clear that you ain’t to be messed with.”

“You make it sound like I’m some tough outlaw,” you teased. “I ain’t even shot a gun yet!”

“Yet.” Arthur reiterated, setting the journal back on his lap. A man occupied the top left corner, and the rest of the two pages were covered in a sketch of a town labeled Blackwater. 

“And you say these ain’t good…” you said, voice disbelieving. “Who’s that?” The man in the drawing had even longer hair than John, extending far beyond what was portrayed in the small drawing. A scar similar to a bolt of lightning streaked up his jaw, and another one cut through his brow.

Even though your tears had stopped, you still found yourself resting your head on the man’s shoulder. You couldn’t help the pleased sigh you let out when you felt his arm return around you, keeping you close. “That’s Charles Smith. Best hunter and tracker in camp. Nice guy, too. He joined us recently, surprised he hadn’t run off after…”

“After?”

Arthur sighed. You could tell he was debating telling you or not, but little did you know that he couldn’t say no to your questions. “After Blackwater.” Your eyes flicked to the sketch of the town. It looked peaceful enough, so why did Arthur say the name with such… disgust? Fear? Regret? You weren’t quite sure. 

“That’s out West, right?” You’d heard of Blackwater before, and you knew that Hans would probably be traveling through it on the way to Tumbleweed. You also knew that it was no stranger to crime, large ones at that. 

Arthur nodded. “It was supposed to be a simple job: rob the ferry and then get the hell outta town. ‘Course, things didn’t end up that way. Innocents were killed. We lost two of our own as well. One of ‘em was captured, too, but we got him back.” 

“What happened?”

You felt him shrug. “I ain’t gotta clue. I wasn’t on the boat when things turned bad. We had to drop everythin’ and run. Law chased us out of the state. We thought we’d lose them in the mountains, but they found us once we left. Chased us out of New Hanover, and now here. Won’t be surprised if they pick up our trail soon.”

“Will you have to leave if they do?”

“I don’t know,” Arthur answered earnestly. “I hope not.”

“Me neither.”

It didn’t feel right to speak, so neither of you did. Arthur simply pulled you closer, and his head practically rested atop yours. You swore his lips brushed the top of your head in a kiss. Rainfall filled in for your voices, the occasion clap of thunder growing softer and softer as the storm progressed. You were so at ease, probably the most relaxed you’d felt over the last two years laying against him like this. He was so warm, his soaked shirt slowly becoming dry, and the fire wasn’t helping you keep your eyes open. Tiredness washed over you, which wasn’t too unexpected because it was already nighttime. You yawmend, and you felt Arthur chuckle. “Go ‘head and rest your eyes, darlin’. I’ll be here.”

You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep until you woke up in your bed the next morning. Sitting up, startled, you saw that you were still in your clothes, simply being placed under the covers. Glancing around, you saw a small piece of paper, presumably ripped from the journal Arthur had shown you yesterday. Grabbing it, you cleared sleep from your eyes, and it took a few moments for the words to become understandable. 

Next time you’ll learn to use the gun. Have a good couple of days, darling.

There was something written below it, but it was heavily scratched out, and you weren’t able to make any of it out. 

Smiling, you leaned back down on the bed, clutching the note to your chest. A small laugh left you, pure happiness radiating from you. It was insane that this man could get you like this just from a small note. 

That giddiness was instantly replaced with dread when you imagined how Hans would react if you were to see the note. You’re not sure what would freak him out more; you using a gun or the fact that Arthur called you darling. 

Getting out of bed, you grabbed the lockbox hidden beneath, opening at setting on the bed. There were still some bills left, but there was plenty of room to set the note in. It was then you remembered that you hadn’t paid Arthur at all. Next time he came over, you’d give it to him. Remembering the other note you had from him, you quickly grabbed it, setting it in the lockbox as well. With one final glance, you closed it, tucking back into its original spot. 

You got ready that day with a grin on your face. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The next couple of days were filled with menial tasks and garden visits. You wished you had a book, cards, something to pass the time that wasn’t laborious tasks. The lower floor had never looked so clean, though, so there was that. 

It had been two days since Arthur had carried you up to your bed, and he would be coming over any day now. Even if there wasn’t anything romantic between you two, you loved having him over, getting close with the outlaw. Your loneliness had never been so far away. 

There was a light knock on the door, and you heard your name being called from the other side of the door. You set aside the stitching you were doing, your hands shaking slightly and a smile growing on your face.

“Hello, Arthur.” You greeted the man as you opened the door. 

Arthur was resting his hands on his belt, a warm smile on his face that had you melting. “Hello, darlin’. You ready?”

You stared at him blankly, completely forgetting what he had planned for you for a moment. “As I’ll ever be,” you sighed, getting your shoes on. “You sure this is a good idea?”

“Are you doubtin’ me?” Arthur joked, extending a hand to you once your shoes were on. “I promise you won’t get hurt.”

You snorted, taking his hand. “I ain’t afraid of getting myself hurt. I’m more afraid of what I might do to you.”

Arthur led you out of the house, continuing to hold your hand even after helping you down the stairs. He only laughed at your words, shaking his head as he did. He led you away from the house, away from his horse tied to the same tree as before, into the woods near where your garden was. A large tree stump was there, and about ten bottles that Arthur put out littered the top. Your hands were now no longer shaking from excitement over seeing Arthur. Instead, anxiety over firing a weapon caused them to shake, and you hoped he couldn’t feel it.

He let go of your hand, and he unholstered his weapon, holding it towards you by the barrel. “First rule,” he said when your hand rested on the grip. “Keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to fire. Nothin’s worse than a misfire.”

You nodded, fully grabbing it in your hand. He let go of it, and you weren’t expecting how heavy the revolver actually was. It wasn’t unbuildable, no, but it definitely had a weight to it that would hurt your wrists after a while. “Second rule. Only aim it at folks that need hurtin’.”

“Do you follow these rules, Arthur?”

He hesitated. “No. But you should. You don’t wanna end up like me.”

He moved around you, so that his chest was barely brushing your back. You felt his fingers brush the underside of your arm, signaling for you to raise your arm. It shook slightly as you raised the weapon, but no longer because of nerves. 

“Bring your other hand up like this,” he moved so that you could see what he was doing, and you copied the action, wrapping both hands around the gun. “Got more stability like that,” he explained, moving back behind you. “Make sure to keep your arms all the way out. And spread your legs a bit.” 

Doing as he asked, you heard him hum approvingly, low and right next to your ear. You had to suppress a shiver. “You see those two iron bits stickin’ up at the end of the barrel? You're gonna want your target in between ‘em. When you’re ready, you’re gonna pull the hammer back,” he tapped it with his finger. “Then squeeze the trigger. Just… brace yourself.”

Taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the way his hands rested on your shoulders, you pulled the hammer back with your thumb. The stretch was uncomfortable, and it took a few tries before your finger eventually caught it. 

Click. 

“Very good,” Arthur praised almost nonchalantly. “Whenever you’re ready, darlin’.”

Bang!

The birds, which had been peacefully minding their own business, scattered out the trees, cries of warning leaving them. Your ears rang, mainly because of the gunshot, but also because of the continued words of praise spilling from Arthur’s lips. You were nowhere close to hitting the bottle, hitting the stump below them, but you were still proud of yourself for hitting something that wasn’t alive. 

Exhaling shakily, you lowered the weapon. The recoil was worse than you expected, and you could already feel that your wrists were going to be hurting later. “Both of us are still alive, right?”

Arthur laughed behind you, and you could feel the way his chest shook. “Very much so. You did good.” 

“Thank you,” you replied breathlessly. “Does it always take that long?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“This,” you gestured to the revolver. “Feels like it took an hour before I shot.” Turning to him, you followed the same way Arthur handed the gun to you, you grabbed the barrel, presenting the grip to him. “Show me.”

Cautiously, he took it from you. “What?”

“I wanna see you shoot.” When he didn’t move, you deflated a bit. “Please?”

Arthur sighed, but you saw a small smile tug at his lips. “Fine. Here, move back.”

Moving so you were behind the man, you waited with bated breath. Only Arthur’s eyes moved, flicking across each target with speed, like he was pinpointing exactly where they were. The revolver hung loosely in his hand, an air of casualness about it, like the gun was just an extension of his arm.

Four shots rang out, faster than you expected, and you watched four of the bottles shatter. The whole action couldn't have been longer than two seconds, and if you had blinked, you would’ve missed it. He aimed the gun still with one hand, the smoke of the barrel intertwining with his arm. 

“Oh my God,” you whispered. “That was…” Hot. “Incredible.” He didn’t respond, but you watched as he twirled the gun around his finger before holstering it. “Alright, now you’re just showin’ off.” You laughed, returning to Arthur’s side. 

“Hey, you asked,” Arthur defended.

You rolled your eyes. “Alght, before I go inflatin’ your ego more, can I try again?”

He handed you the gun, and you found that you weren’t as nervous as the first time. “There’s one round left. I’ll show you how to reload it once we’re done.”

Nodding, you returned to the position he showed you, and even though you didn’t need his support, you felt his hands brace your shoulders. The warmth of his hands were distracting, and you quite literally had to shake yourself out of it.

Bang! 

You were starting to get used to the noise it made, your ears not ringing as badly as they were before. This shot still didn’t hit a bottle, but it hit the stump right next to one. You’d take that. 

“Look at you.” His face was right next to your ear, low timbre shaking you to your very core. God, his voice should not be doing these things to you. “You’ll be hittin’ those in no time.”

“You think?” You didn’t dare turn your head towards him, knowing it would then be inches away from his own. You don’t think you could stop yourself from kissing him then, guilt be damned. 

Arthur nodded, and you could cut the tension between the two of you with a knife. He breathed deep, like he was trying to calm himself. “C’mon, lemme show you how to reload the thing.” Stepping away from you, what should’ve been a warm breeze felt freezing against your skin, no longer feeling the warmth of his body. Turning, you saw Arthur begin to head back the way you came. You were able to sneak your hand in his before he moved too far away, walking along beside him.

A bit shocked, Arthur glanced at you, looking down at your intertwined hands, but he made no move to separate them. Instead, he smiled gently, and he brought your knuckles up to his lips, kissing them gently. With the gun in your other hand, the two of you walked back, not saying a word. It’s not like you would’ve been able to hear him anyways because of how loudly your heart was beating in your ears. 

Arthur’s horse’s ears perked up when he noticed your arrival, but otherwise seemed undisturbed, the recent loud noise seemingly not bothering him. It made you wonder how used to gunshots the creature was. 

Arthur led you to the horse, and he sniffed curiously at you. You couldn’t help the slight flinch, not used to being around horses. “He won’t hurt ya,” Arthur reassured, pulling his hand away to grab something from the saddlebags. “He acts like he’s tough, but he’s a real softie.”

“Sounds like his owner,” you teased, and you heard Arthur scoff. You reached out a hand for him to smell, and you watched him meet you halfway. His nose was wet, and you felt him nibble at your fingers, making you laugh. Moving your hand away from his nose you trailed it down his neck, petting gently. “You not all that mean, ain’t you? You just need some love,” you cooed at the horse. “You’re a good boy, ain’t you?” You pet his neck a few more times. “What’s his name, Arthur?”

You didn’t get a response, so you turned your attention toward the man, stilling your petting. “Arthur?” He was facing towards you, something in his hands, but he had stilled, completely silent.

He cleared his throat, and you swore you saw the beginnings of a blush form on his cheeks. “Sorry,” he rubbed at his neck. “His name’s Bear.”

You didn’t think much of his behavior, moving your attention back to Bear. “Bear?” The horse responded immediately, acknowledgment flashing in his eyes. “Ain’t you a good boy, Bear. Oh, yes you are.” You spoke like you would to a dog. 

Eventually, you moved away from Bear, and you saw him follow you with his head. “Sorry,” you apologized to Arthur, having forgotten what he’d brought you over to do.

Arthur shook his head, smiling and laughing. Yeah, he had definitely been blushing, his ears still tinted pink. “Are you done spoilin’ my horse?” 

“For now.” You stepped closer to Arthur, handing him the gun. “What does he like to eat?”

“Bear?” Arthur shrugged. “Most things really. Grass, hay, apples, carrots. He loves peppermints, though. Goes crazy for ‘em. Why?”

“No particular reason.” You tried to be nonchalant, like you weren’t totally planning on buying some the next time you were in town.

“You tryin’ to steal my horse from me?” Arthur asked, setting what you saw to now be ammunition in his hands on the saddle, taking a step towards you, making you tilt your head back farther to look at him. 

You stuck your chin out defiantly. “Maybe.”

“I don’t much appreciate that, darlin’.” You knew he was teasing you, but his voice had dropped dangerously low, and in any other context would’ve sounded threatening. He was so close now, holstering the gun back on his belt, and you felt your confidence falter as he stared you down. 

“What’re gonna do about it, then?” It came out as a whisper, but at least it wasn’t shaky. You maintained eye contact, even when he moved closer, his chest bumping into yours. One of his hands slowly held the side of your face, like he had done when he wiped the dirt from your cheek. His other hand locked on your waist, tugging you impossibly close, and you sucked in a breath. 

Those beautiful blue eyes danced over your face, settling on your lips, an unspoken question spoken. You nodded, the movement barely noticeable, but you didn’t trust your voice. His thumb brushed the apple of your cheek, and he tiled your head back a bit more. Arthur leaned forward, and you felt his hat brush against your head, knocking it back slightly, but it didn’t deter him. 

His lips almost brushed against yours, and you could feel the air leave him as he almost closed the gap, until a loud calling of his name had him snapping his head up. His hat nearly tumbled off his head, and he caught it using the hand once caressing your face. The voice was familiar, but you couldn’t see who it came from, the form of Bear blocking the speaker.

Once the initial shock wore off, you could practically feel the annoyance and anger from Arthur. “What?” He growled out, and you were thankful that his head was turned so that he wouldn’t see the way your cheeks flushed. 

“Where are you, son?” 

You recognized the voice now: Dutch. Why he was here, you had no idea. Exasperated, Arthur looked at you, an apology on his tongue. You silenced him with a kiss on his cheek, his beard tickling your lips when you made contact. His hand tightened where it still held on at your hips, and felt him sigh, both pleased and irritated. Leaning your head back, you answered for him. “He’s by the house.”

Arthur let go of you now, taking a step back and creating an appropriate amount of room between the two of you. “Good evening, Mrs. Kerrigan,” you heard Dutch respond, and you and Arthur stepped from around the horse and walked to the front porch. 

Dutch came riding into your homestead on a beautiful white horse, and another man followed behind him, hat over his face, so you couldn’t get a glimpse of his features. “Good evening, Dutch. Is there something you need?”

“We need to talk to you,” Dutch responded, and you blinked back, confused. You glanced at Arthur, and he just sighed. You could tell he was still frustrated, though, because he practically glared at the other men as they got off their horses. 

“Me? You sure you don’t mean Arthur?”

“Both of you,” the stranger responded, taking off his hat and keeping it with his horse. He was an older gentleman, probably in his mid-fifties. As he turned to you, you recognized him instantly from one of the drawings: Hosea.

“This here’s Hosea,” Dutch made his way over to you and Arthur, Hosea following closely behind. “You see, me and him have a proposition for you, Mrs. Kerrigan. And Arthur, I suppose.”

“Okay.” You drew out the word. “What is it?”

“It involves your husband,” Hosea chimed in. “We’d like your help.”

“And I’m glad to provide it, if you tell me what’s goin’ on.”

“Mrs. Kerrigan, are you aware that your husband is runnin’ a moonshine business?”

Author's Note:  i swear they’ll kiss eventually don’t kill me

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

I know it's short

This belongs in the Caught universe

---

Colin had to get out of his house or he might actually murder his dumbass siblings. Well, maybe not Mandy. She wouldn't be taken down easily. His brothers were a different story.

He could've gone to the Alibi or anywhere else to drink away until he was no longer pissed off by everything that moved. And yet, he found himself on North Wallace, about to go inside his girlfriend's house.

Because that was his life now.

It was kinda fucked up how she was able to make his mood better, even times when he didn't want it. He'd told her that too, and she just laughed at him when he was being fucking serious.

Fuckin' Gallagher.

From what he could see outside, the lights were off. It was late, but Fiona shouldn't be in bed yet. Sometimes she watched a bit of TV to unwind. Colin was counting on that being the case tonight so he didn't have to wander through the damn house to get to her bedroom, risking one of her million siblings waking up.

The door would be locked by this time but Colin had a key to let himself in. Not one that she'd given him. He'd taken it from Frank by way of threatening him and when that didn't work because Frank fucking Gallagher never knew when to shut his damn mouth, Colin held a hand around his neck until the guy wheezed out an, "Okay."

Was better this way anyway. Colin heard plenty of complains from Fiona, Lip and Ian how the old asshole was always barging in, taking what wasn't his just to make a quick buck. At least now it wouldn't be as easy for him.

As expected, it was quiet on the inside. The TV was on and there she was, sprawled out on the couch. Her hair was freely splayed, her face lined with exhaustion but

His heart did a real fucking funny thing right then. Jesus, he'd really gone soft.

Feeling slightly awkward even though no one was around, Colin made up for it by flicking her on the side of the head. She swatted at his hand, her groan cut off midway by a yawn that she covered with her forearm.

"Guess playing mommy is hard work, huh?"

"Why are you here?" She muttered, sitting up to give him room. He plopped down, letting her legs drape over his lap.

"That any way to greet your boyfriend?" Colin rubbed her knee with one hand.

"Sorry, I was waiting for the other guy to show up," she shrugged. Her smile was mischievous, shouldn't have been as fuckin' cute as it was.

He smirked. "Yeah? Who's to say I didn't fuck a chick before coming here?"

Fiona was unbothered. "She got better tits than me?"

"Better ass too."

"Too bad she doesn't have better taste in men," she said smoothly.

Colin captured her lips for a rough kiss. "Fuck you," he whispered, lips turning up in a grin.

In the midst of that kiss, he reached for the remote and as soon as she realized it, Fiona tried to get it back but Colin was faster.

"Give it back!"

"Fuck off," Colin blocked her with his other arm, switching the channel through different channels. "Eh, that's shitty. Fuckin' stupid. Who the fuck even watches this? Nah-"

"Colin!" Fiona struggled against him, so he trapped her legs under his.

"Fiona," he mocked.

She rolled her eyes, and gave up trying to escape. "Fucking asshole."

"Damn right."

Once he'd actually found something worthwhile to watch, Colin kept his eyes on the screen, his thumb rubbing her skin. Fiona had her hand in his hair, his curls around her fingers.

Halfway through the show, Fiona started pulling him down with her. "Come on," she said when he looked at her in confusion. "You're tired. Just lay down."

"I'm fine, Gallagher."

"With Terry's DNA? I doubt it."

He narrowed his eyes in the face of her cheeky grin. "You know, I've hurt people for less."

"Okay, Tough Guy," she said, unfazed. "But I'd like the feeling in my legs back so lay down or I'm moving."

For a moment, the TV was the only noise. Colin didn't do stuff like this. Fucking cuddling. There'd been one time she'd invaded his personal space after sex but he'd pretended to be asleep, not knowing how to handle it.

God, he sounded like a pussy.

Feeling awkward for the second time that night, Colin lowered himself down behind her. His arm was over her, legs intertwined, his senses overridden with Fiona's citrusy shampoo.

As for Fiona herself, she was unaware of his thoughts. "You have shitty taste in TV," she sighed, turning over to face him, laying against his body. Colin froze.

Wasn't expecting it to feel as...nice as it did.

What the fuck was happening to him? Interested in a damn relationship and now this girly shit was makin' him feel all warm.

What the fuck are you doing to me, Gallagher? Colin thought, and strangely, he didn't feel upset over it.

[14muffinz]

Whoops! It seems like twin-sync leo has run off to who knows where! Have you seen him?

[this answer is a collaboration with the original asker. the parts in april's perspective are mine, and the parts in donnie's perspective are hers. I hope this still makes some semblance of sense]

~~~

April nearly crashes into the turtle, just barely managing to catch herself in time. Maybe running around the arena isn't the best idea, but, well, she's gotta find her brother somehow.

After stumbling into an alternate April, Donnie blinked a few times in surprise, sure he knew there was other April's, but there weren't too many around in here.

"Uh, no, I don't think so," she says. She might have, for all she knows, but with how hyperfocused she's been on finding her own, she's spotted plenty of different ages, heights, eye colours, and so on. She hasn't focused to hard on anyone in purple, though, and thus she can't help but startle when she realises that this Donnie seems to have slider markings on top of his own. (She should probably be used to weirdness by now, but there's something especially off-putting about seeing something unknown in one of her brothers. "Have you seen my Leo?"

A moment too late, she realises that he probably doesn't know what her Leo actually looks like.

After registering her question he grimaced slightly as he spoke, “Ah… well maybe?? There's a shocking amount of blue here actually..” he ended his statement with a nervous chuckle.

April huffs, figuring she might as well take a bit of a breather. "No kidding. At least my bro's will be able to catch up with me if they don't have any better luck, I'm sticking out a bit I think."

She figures that they're probably still looking for Leon. She can't exactly imagine any of them giving up, unless they do something stupid like trying to use their ninpo to aid in the search.

"I wonder if there's a better way at catching their attention here than just running around aimlessly. I went to the, uh, lost and found corner earlier with my bros, but that place seemed to make it worse than better, to be honest. And, like, this is a really good opportunity to find my brother, since he's been missing for a while, so I can't just…" she trails off, then winces. "Right, sorry, you don't need my life story. Did your brother run off while he was here, or have you been looking for him the whole time?"

Donnie tilted his head to the side as he began recounting the earlier events that lead to Leo running away, “So we may have made friend while we were here, and he thought it would be fun to introduce one of HIS friends to US…” the striped turtle paused for a second “…which wouldn't have been a PROBLEM if he wasn't so… menacing, to put it lightly.”

The purple-clad turtle looked back at April with a nervous expression, “And he kinda… ran off at the sight of him…” the turtle sighed in frustration, “and apparently he got REALLY fast cause I couldn't catch up to him..”

"Ah. Good luck finding him, I guess," she responds awkwardly.

He then directed the question back at her “What about you? Has your Leo been missing long?” He asked.

April nods in response to his question, shoving her hands into her pockets and wrapping one hand around the fidget cube that she's got stored inside. She starts frantically tapping at buttons while she says, "Uh, yeah. He's been missing for over a year at this point, and we haven't had a lot of leads. He just... up and left one night."

It's not really the whole story. It's his missing arm, the one that's still in beta and specially made for fighting at that. It's the nail marks in Draxum's table, as though someone had frantically gripped it, and how Big Mama has been on their asses for months about a robbery that never even happened.

"When we got here, we realised that a lot of other reunions were going on, so we figured that he had to be here somewhere. But so far, no dice. The costumes really aren't helping any."

he took in her response and said “Oh, well my Leo was trapped in another dimension before this whole thing started, but we could still talk, sometimes at least.” He got quieter as he spoke, truly thinking about going a whole year without ever knowing if Leo was even alive… finally came to a resolve with a determined expression, empathy filled eyes looked back to the alternate version of his sister.

"That's good," she says weekly, forcing herself to push down the jealousy that builds. She'd give anything to talk to her missing brother right about now, but she isn't going to allow herself to get upset over something she's glad someone had.

He offered her a hand and with a smile he spoke “How about we team up and look for him together?” In his mind he resolved that his own Leo would be okay for a little longer.

April smiles and nods, reaching out her non-fidgeting hand to shake his. "I'll help find yours too, y'know. It's only fair. The more eyes the better, and all."

When they release the handshake, she grabs her phone out of her pocket, quickly flipping over to a folder full of comfort videos with her and her family. They'd made it shortly after the Kraang Incident, when emotions and separation anxiety were running rampant, and it's been getting tons of use since Leon vanished. She scrolls over to a group photo, taken just a few weeks before he'd gone missing, and shows it to the alternate version of her brother. "This is my fam, so that you can help look. I don't really know if I need help looking for my brothers, since supposedly we'll get tossed back home when all this is over, but... I don't know, it seemed important, I guess."

She twists the cube in her pocket, starting to toy with another side. She's definitely sure that the clicking of the button is now audible, but doesn't particularly care.

Donnie did his best to not acknowledge the faint, but still audible, clicking he heard in an effort to not stress April out any more than he may have already.

Looking towards the picture, he made sure to commit the faces- but in particular Leo's- to memory so he could accurately search alongside her.

As they searched, Donnie encouraged and contributed to telling stories of their respective Leos in an effort to lighten the mood.

~~~

Thanks for writing this with me, was a blast!

@tmntaucompetition

[midnightcreator12]

The Simple Joy of Rain

Very out of context story based on my DnD campaign.

Faust belongs to @charlie-charlie-yes-i-am-here

Enjoy!

----------------------

Wren knew what rain was before she’d escaped the Westledge estate. 

She’d seen rain plenty of times, and even a child in her circumstance could puzzle together what rain was.

But she had always been separated from rain, behind a shield of intricate stained glass windows.

It hadn’t occurred to her until a year after settling in Dogwood Grove that the ‘design’ on her bedroom window had been iron bars made to mimic the windows everywhere else.

She could remember the first time she’d felt rain on her scales, as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. Because it had also been the day she’d stumbled in between the roots of an ancient tree and collapsed in exhaustion. It was also the day she had truly felt a kind touch, from warm and aged and callosed hands.

So Wren didn’t mind the rain. Hell, once she learned what an oncoming downpour smelled like in the air, she started growing excited to get absolutely drenched.

Which was why she watched the grumbling clouds roll closer and did nothing to take shelter.

Sticks wasn’t of the same mind, he’d quickly burrowed himself down as far as he could into Wren’s armor when he noticed the rumbling clouds, a warm and furry weight right at the base of Wren’s sternum.

And normally, she wouldn’t think about much else. She’d just slip her cloak and gloves and shin guards off and wait for the first chilly drops to start hitting her skin.

But she wasn’t alone this time.

Technically, she had four new companions but only one was currently not sleeping inside the inn.

She looked across the roof to where a mass of feathers and leather armor lay, ignorant of the low rumbles of thunder that were approaching.

Wren frowned, tilting her head. 

Surely he didn’t mind a little rain? He wouldn’t sleep outdoors if he did…

But she also knew most people did not enjoy the feeling of getting soaked. She’d gotten a fair share of odd looks from the occasional travels through Dogwood. The townspeople themselves had also pestered her to come inside from the rain for months until Bast told everyone to leave her be.

But Wren knew people would complain about their hair getting wet and it being difficult to dry afterward...

She imagined feathers were a bit like hair…

And Faust had a lot of feathers for moisture to get trapped on….

Well, Wren wasn’t planning to have her cloak on anyway.

Her foot claws barely made a sound as she picked up her cloak and made her way to Faust. It was one of the first things Bast had gifted her, the material breathable but study. It wasn’t fully waterproof but it did a fine job of keeping the worst of it at bay.

But her attempts to drape it over Faust without waking him up ended in vain, since a particularly loud clap of thunder shattered the night air at the same time she dropped the fabric over him.

Faust shot up, eyes wide as he looked around, wings puffing up as if preparing for take-off, “Wha- whe- who-?”

Wren felt the first drops of rain hit her head. She reached down and tugged the hood of the cloak over Faust, “It would appear that a storm has blown in.”

“Storm-?” Faust blinked hard, probably trying to orientate himself after the sudden wake-up call.

More water began to fall and Wren stepped back, relishing in the feeling of moisture sliding along her scales as the droplets came at greater quantity and speed.

Faust made an odd squawking sound as he finally processed that it was, in fact, raining. He scrabbled to his feet, talons fumbling with the green cloak, “I have a blanket! Why did you give me-? You’re gonna get soaked!”

“I don’t mind,” Wren hummed, tilting her head back so the rain could strike her face.

Dust, grit, and dried blood from days of traveling washed away, leaving pristine scales behind. Wren frowned a bit, lowering her gaze to look at her hands.

The scales were always clean. She hadn’t paid much mind to it before, she’d dismissed a lot of things as simple ‘dragonborn stuff that she just didn’t know and didn’t really need to know’. It was clearly a very normal dragonborn thing to feel the grime of days without a proper bath and not actually be able to see it well.

But now, knowing what she did? The uncanny cleanliness stood out to her, wormed into her head and hissed into her mind.

‘That isn’t you.’

“Hey?”

Faust’s voice made Wren look up.

He looked a bit damp but a blanket had joined her cloak in the mission of keeping him mostly dry. His beak was twisted into an odd expression, one that Wren couldn’t quite place.

He grinned a bit when she looked at him, “You, uh….like rain?”

Wren blinked.

Then huffed a small laugh, “Yes. It’s quite refreshing.”

Faust nodded very seriously, “Hmmm, yeah, yeah….do you….want company or…?

Wren huffed again, “You do not have to stay here if you’d prefer to join the others.”

“That isn’t what I asked,” Faust countered quickly.

Wren smiled now and gave a little shake, the motion causing water to spray off her in an almost halo, “I wouldn’t say no to company.”

Faust nodded, settling more comfortably as another boom of thunder disturbed the night.

Wren closed her eyes and listened to the sound build to its peak before fading again.

No, she was not quite herself yet. But hopefully, that hurdle would be rectified soon.

She wasn’t looking forward to returning to that manor…but she felt a little better about the looming walls and foreboding stained windows and uncanny paintings.

Because she wouldn’t be returning there alone.

[halloweenfrills]

WARNING: definitely not consensual, drug use, forced oral, water boarding, water sports.

(No title. Only thing I could think of was "Dr. Crane Gets Brain.")

This was your chance to be more, more than Dr. Crane, respected psychologist at Arkam Asylum, well, as respected as you can be in Gotham. It's not like you'll ever be Bruce Wayne but this research will bring you more than the measly life you've gotten by taking care of the local crazies.

The hazy streetlights somehow made her look more fragile, the woman you've decided on as she carries a single pizza alone in the night. Bold, walking alone like that, but you would soon know her fears if the toxin you had created was the right formula, tonight was an experiment to see how the drug worked on a sane person, assuming this woman was sane. Feeling your knuckles turn white around the handle of your briefcase you echoed her footsteps.

Waiting underneath the cover of darkness in an alley across from her apartment building it would seem luck was on your side tonight. There was no sign of The Bat, not even a symbol in the sky as you waited for her lights to dim, only the flicker of TV showing through her bedroom curtains.

There was a rule among the lower Gothamites in the city, a rule to mind your own business and turn a blind eye to crime, so as you kneeled onto the asphalt, feeling the damp soak the knee of your suit pants, the click of your briefcase opening goes unnoticed. Staring up at you, a mess of stitches and brown sackcloth, empty black holes your eyes were about to fill, the mask stared up at you. The crazies called you Scarecrow, the name stuck and you quite liked it. Slipping on the mask, you're no longer Dr. Crane, you're Scarecrow, a worst nightmare brought to life, becoming any fear someone could see. Your fear toxin was loaded, begging to be used to gain you more power in Gotham.

The sound of your heart was in your ears as now you were inside the apartment, from what you could see, as shabby as it looked on the outside she had made this a quaint little home in the middle of this filthy city. You could feel yourself smile underneath the mask, her sleeping form seeming to flicker by the TV light.

"Wakey wakey.", you hummed lowly, stalking to her side and leaning over so when her eyes opened she would see the face of Scarecrow. It was time to get a look inside her head.

It took mere seconds for her sleeping form to go from dazed to instant panic. I'm sure the shock alone from seeing a figure standing over her as she slept was enough to induce fear but more was needed, unleashing the fear toxin with a simple click of a button.

Her screams were almost like gasps, stepping back to watch her flail herself out of bed, seeing pale legs wobbling as if struggling to keep her on her feet. "What do you see?", my distorted voice asks, seeing her whip her head around to gaze at me like a wild animal trapped and knowing its doom. Curious, the gasping screams were different, watching as her hands almost clawed at her throat and chest, leaving red marks dragging along her skin.

It clicked, drowning, she was feeling herself drown and maybe simply seeing a man in a mask and suit. "Fascinating.", the word left my lips, this time reaching out for her. She screamed, finally struggling out two words, "The Batman!" Even her words sounded like they were under water, that pressure crushing down onto her. My hand found her hair, pulling hard on her scalp and I saw tears come to her eyes as I began dragging her towards the bathroom, her wobbling legs almost useless.

The Batman. I've heard plenty of stories but so far I've not seen a sign of him myself.

Flicking on the bathroom light, her fingers were trying to claw at my hand as I forced her to her knees, twisting in my hold, "This will have to do.", I sighed, curiosity getting the best of me, if she seemed to have a fear of drowning then how much could she take?

With two fingers I lifted the lid of the toilet, wrapping her black hair around my hand as she kept gasping, "The Batman isn't coming.", I tell her slowly before plunging her face into the toilet water. She made the obvious mistake of screaming as she went in, water sucking into her mouth and lungs while her knees banged against the floor for mercy, water splashing onto the cuff of my suit. Now she was really drowning, or, at least, drowning under my control.

Deciding she needed a break, I lifted her head from the toilet, and tilted my head, the soulless Scarecrow mask observing her sobbing face, the water dripping down the front of the black silk nightie she wore, "Please-Please!", her voice hoarse, "Can't breathe-"

"Obviously.", I snorted, plunging her back in. The fear toxin must slowly be losing its hold on her mind as she was beginning to form words instead of gasping screams.

Deciding when she had enough, her body tried coughing up the water, watching as her chest heaved, and to my surprise two little points caught my attention, her nipples now hard beneath the wet silk.

"Npt quite the reaction I was expecting.", I whisper to myself, intrigued, my eyes scanning down her trembling form. All that kicking had lifted up the hem of the nightie, revealing gray cotton panties with something that really caught my attention, a little wet patch between her thighs, something that couldn't be mistaken for anything else.

"Oh my God, you're disgusting.", I almost laughed, she was enjoying this despite the fear, "What's going on in that little head of yours?"

Loosening the grip on her hair, only a little, I watched the shame creep up her face, the gasping quiet now as the drowning pressure must be slowly relieving from her chest as her mind was trying to process everything. Kicking her ankles apart more, she flinched but had stilled the fighting, my fingertips running up her leg, her thigh, and eventually pressing against the wet spot.

This time you expected the noise that came from her next, a moan. You smiled behind the mask, wondering if she could see the way your eyes shone with their own excitement of this discovery. "Let's see what else you like.", I hissed, plunging her head back into the toilet before she could beg for The Batman that wouldn't come.

Holding her in place with one hand, it seemed now that her shame was exposed, despite the fear toxin weakening, she didn't have much fight left. With the other hand you reached to unzip the pants of your suit, reaching to free yourself, "Since you don't mind being disgusting..." As a test, you free your hand from her hair, deciding to relieve the pressure and piss right into the toilet her head was in as if that's where she belonged. It gave a certain satisfaction, seeing her peek up, timid, just as the pale yellow stream hit her cheek, a pitiful wail coming from her as she hid her face back down to hide her lower lip quivering from tears.

"What's the matter?", you kicked at her ankles, tilting your head to see that the wet patch had grown, her thighs almost quivering. Either this was a reaction to the drug or she really was disgusting, either way it was fascinating.

Now that you were relieved, shaking off the last remnants, she began to move as you tucked yourself away, your hand pausing as you were going to zip back up. You've used the fear toxin, seen how it reacted on a person that wasn't in Arkam Asylum, but you didn't want to be done with her.

Bending to grab her hair again, she winced as you turned up her face to yours, making her stare into the eyes of The Scarecrow, "You could make for an interesting experiment.", you signed, running your thumb over her lower lip, seeing she had bitten it, smearing the watered down blood across her lips, "Open your mouth."

And on command, she did. Was her mind gone? Did the toxin make her go numb? Or did she think compliance would keep her from getting hurt? Either way, as your thumb slid into her mouth and pressed to her tongue you felt your cock twitch as you stared down into those fear filled eyes.

"Fuck it.", you huffed to yourself, once again freeing yourself from your suit pants, stroking with one hand while the other held her chin, feeling her anxious tongue run over your thumb. She was squirming, no doubt horny from this as well as you let her suffer, seeing you grow harder.

This time your touch was more gentle, taking the back of her head and guiding her to your cock, the tip toying with her lips to take you inside. You rose an eyebrow, an action she couldn't see, as you observed if she would obey.

As you slipped into her mouth, your length gliding onto her tongue to feel the weight of you, your own moans slipped out. She was so warm and wet, her saliva pooling around your cock as you reached to grip her head with both hands, eager to fuck her face.

She's already had her worst fears come to life, drowning, unable to breathe, now as you forced her head up and down, taking the length of your cock back and forth, you were giving her that fear all over again.

And it felt good.

Her palms went to your thighs, begging, praising, you didn't care. Her knees sore on the bathroom tiles as her body wanted to protest to the feeling of your cock in her throat, the quiet gags another warning.

You wanted to come, fuck, she felt too good. But you couldn't leave any DNA behind for Commissioner Gorden and his piggies to find.

Your chest heaving, you forced her to take you completely, holding the back of her head so her nose was pressed to your suit pants, just making her hold your cock. Her palms beat at your thighs, gagging and gasping as drool came from her mouth and dripped down to her chest. Chuckling behind the mask, you let her go, leaving her on the floor to sputter and cough while you grabbed the hand towel, quickly pumping until you felt your own release into the fabric.

The toxin must most definitely be wearing off now, a ragged sob shaking her while you stepped over and back to her bedroom where you left the briefcase, putting the towel inside so there's no evidence left behind.

Unable to stop yourself from taking one last look, she made no move to flinch away as she cried, lifting the nightie to properly see her panties now soaked.

"I've got to get a look inside your head.", you tell her, patting her thigh and standing back up. You hoped to see her at Arkam, such a fascinating experiment.

[iamvegorott]

Meeting A Magical Man Pt. 38

Part 1: Link Prev: Link Next: Link

"Magic without a trigger? What does that mean?" Chase asked, not understanding why Marvin and Phantom looked at Mad like he had two heads.

"Very long story short, all magic needs a physical trigger of sorts, a movement of hands so it will go since the magic is inside of us and needs a path to follow to come out," Marvin explained. 

"It is nearly impossible to cast spells without that trigger," Phantom added. "Even some of the highest trained and powerful magic users can't do that, or it takes everything in them to do so…Mad did it like it was nothing."

"We can't let Dark know he can do that," Marvin said. 

"Mad would never know a day of peace if he does." Phantom rubbed his face. 

"I need to go home," Henrik said as he returned to the room. "It's Robbie, he has…he has done that thing again." 

"Wait, he’s-"

"Yes." Henrik cut Chase off short. "I need to check on him." 

"Do you want us to come with you?" Marvin asked.

"No, no. You worry about your new housemates.” Henrik's eyes showed that his thoughts were racing. 

"I got him," Edward said to Chase and Marvin before getting up and guiding Henrik out of the house, voice soft and reassuring that all would be well. 

"I'm guessing we're not welcome to that info?" Mare asked.

"Not for us to share," Marvin stated.

"Fair." Mare and Phantom nodded, showing they wouldn't push it. 

"Who's Robbie?" Mad, on the other hand, missed the request for some privacy hint. 

"Mad." Mare waited until Mad looked at him before clicking his tongue and gesturing toward his neck with his hand, a silent and quick way to tell Mad to let it go.  

"Oh! Uh-sorry." Mad gave an awkward smile. “So…what now?” 

“For now, let’s just figure out how all of you are sleeping here.” Marvin sighed and stood up. “Chase, obviously, you can go home at any time.” 

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” Chase bumped Marvin’s hip with his own, getting Mavin to softly chuckle. 

“Follow me,” Marvin said to the others and led them deeper into his house. “This is my room.” He broadly pointed at the closed door and kept going. “These two are the spars.” Marvin opened the other two doors with a flick of both wrists.  

“Are those king-sized beds?” Phantom asked after peeking his head into one of the rooms. 

“Always nice to have plenty of room.” Marvin grinned. 

“Soundproofing?” Phantom asked over his shoulder. 

“Gross.” Mare rolled his eyes. 

“Magically done,” Marvin answered.

“Well, at least there are some fun things I can do while trapped here.” Phantom chuckled, looping his arm through Jackie’s. 

“What are we doing?” Jackie asked. 

“Everything you’ll need is in the bottom drawer of the bedside table,” Marvin informed and laughed as Phantom practically dragged Jackie into the room and closed the door. 

“I don’t know how he can be horny at a time like this.” Mare sighed. 

“They’re about to have sex?” Mad asked, eyes widening slightly. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Mare turned Mad away from the door and walked them into the other room. “You said something about getting another bed in here?” He asked Marvin as Mad went off on his own. 

“Not sure if I can get it in here by the time you’d like to sleep. Magic or not, it won’t be till probably tomorrow afternoon at the earliest.” Marvin was lying a little. Technically, he could go to the basement and find one of his old blow-up mattresses, but he felt like embracing his matchmaker energy. It worked for Henrik and Edward; surely, it’ll work for these two. 

“I mean, I could sleep on the couch.” Mare offered as Marvin snapped his fingers and had Mad’s suitcases appear in the room. Mad made an ‘oo’ sound and went right for his belongings, opening them up and working on getting a head start with unpacking. 

“Do you think Mad can handle sleeping in a new room, in a new building, on his own? After everything that’s happened, with the chance of Actor now hunting you two down?” Marvin breathed in through his teeth. 

“But Phantom did a spell so that Actor can’t find us here.” Mare said.

“Tell anxiety that. I don’t know much about Mad, but something tells me he’s an overthinker.” Marvin pointed to his own temple and watched as Mare looked over at Mad and rubbed his neck.

“Yeah…” Mare said softly. Mad was putting some clothing into the dresser, humming a little to himself. 

“I mean, if you’re worried about sharing a bed, you could always do that one thing where you use pillows to keep you separate,” Chase suggested. 

“I guess.” Mare sighed and then made a face when noticed the next set of clothing Mad was putting away. “Did you grab some of my stuff?” 

“Can’t have you walking around naked.” Mad giggled, kneeling on the ground as he sorted the jeans. “And I got your blanket and our puzzle.” 

“I didn’t even think of getting those.” Mare chuckled as he started helping Mad unpack. 

“That’s why I’m the brains of this operation,” Mad said with a teasing pop of his lips. 

“Have fun,” Marvin said and closed the door. 

“You went from living alone to having four roommates,” Chase said as he and Marvin went to Marvin’s bedroom, closing the door behind him. 

“And two of them are my ex-boyfriend and his now current boyfriend.” Marvin took his mask off and lifted his arms in a stretch. 

“Are you going to be okay with all of that?” Chase asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Strangely enough…I am.” Marvin started unbuttoning his shirt. “Wasn’t that long ago that if you told me I’d be doing this, I’d laugh in your face like you’ve lost your mind.” 

“Marv…what if Mad doesn’t want to sign the contract?” 

“He doesn’t really have a choice. He needs help. You saw all of those scars on him. He’s lucky that they’re not like mine and can and will heal clearly with magic, but one of these days, they might not be. He shouldn’t have to hide himself because he’s too powerful for his own good.” Marvin tossed his shirt into a clothes hamper. 

“You don’t have to hide your face, you know.” Chase stood back up and went to Marvin. 

“Making children cry and dogs bark in fear is a pretty good reason to.” Marvin laughed and turned, finding himself face-to-face with Chase. 

“I think they look cool.” Chase placed his hands on Marvin’s face, rubbing his cheeks with his thumbs. 

“I know, darling. But not everyone is like you.” Marvin sighed, placing his hand on top of one of Chase’s, leaning into the touch. 

“When have you ever given a damn about what others think?” Chase had a smile as he said those words.

“Everything has its limits,” Marvin swore that Chase made his heart a butterfly with how it fluttered at his kind smile.  

“Fuck those limits.” Chase lightly huffed and caught Marvin in a kiss. 

“How about you fuck me instead~” Marvin giggled, so done with the day and just wanting to do something to forget it all, even temporarily, and Chase being so adoring and caring made it easy to decide how he wanted to do that. 

“I feel like I should quote Mare’s earlier comment about Phantom being horny.” Chase chuckled as he was guided to the bed, crawling up it as Marvin laid down. 

“Nope, no quoting, no mentioning the others. There is only you and me right now, and that’s how I want it for the rest of the night.” Marvin tugged at Chase’s shirt, trying to slide it off him. 

“I guess I can handle that.” Chase chuckled, sitting up to do what Marvin wanted, placing a hand on Marvin’s when he rubbed his now bare chest. He used his other hand to hold Marvin’s face again. “It’s going to be okay.” 

“I know, honey, I know.” Marvin smiled and pulled Chase down into a kiss. 

----------

Tags: @brokentimewatch @bookwormscififan @d-structive @rainymae523 @ashtonisvibing

[cheeto-flavoured-pasta]

An (Albeit Late) Writeblr Intro

I'm seeing all the Writeblr introduction posts going around and I'm starting to realize that, damn, I should have started my blog that way. But I didn't, so I might as well post my intro a while after I've written and reblogged other things, because it's the least I can do.

So, with that out of the way: excuse my fuck-ups, and here's a really late Writeblr intro…

______________________________________________

Hi! I don't think anyone wants to type out my long username whenever they're referring to me, so just call me 'A.' (He/him). I've been lurking on Tumblr for a while and I figured I'd actually get up and make a blog for writing. I don't exactly have any particular focus outside of just "random crap that relates to writing in any way, shape, or form" so I could be putting up memes, drabbles I wrote, excerpts from my WIPs, writing memes, etc. etc. I'll make other blogs if I wanna focus in on one specific writing aspect later, but for now, I'm keeping things general. 

My current major WIP as of now is APS (stands for 'A Powerful Secret' but I usually just call it the acronym since it sounds cooler). It's a sci-fi dystopia trilogy centering around the idea of superhumans being discovered by an already-corrupt government. There's also a spinoff I want to work on, but that's way off into the future. I'm currently working on B2 of the trilogy; it's currently in the first draft. Considering that this series is still a major work-in-progress, I might not be able to post anything about it until a bit later.

I do have plenty of other side projects that I most certainly want to share on here, since I feel more confident posting those first (when I get back to writing them, of course). Some of these side-WIPs include: 

The Devil On My Shoulder: A fiction centering around a depressed college-aged student, and how his life changes when a demon is kicked out from hell and comes crashing right into his home. 

This is probably the story I'm most excited to work on, given that I've mapped out all the twists and turns in my head already, and all I need to do is write it.

ATM (placeholder title): A story — possibly a series — revolving around a civilization that relies heavily on elemental magic which takes the form of specific jewelry (ex: elemental rings, necklaces, wristbands, etc.). It's often used to fight back against the monsters that invaded the world decades ago. The source of the creatures is something that nobody knows, but the protagonist, Nadeline, is dead set on finding out. 

This story may take a longer while to write, considering that it's a high-fantasy type of story, which is a genre I don't write often but want to write more of.

Don't Leave: (That may or may not be a placeholder title; it depends). A novel that focuses on the town of Bayholde, which forbids anyone from traveling outside of it and has closed itself off from the world almost entirely. Kaguya, a young man who is fed up with being trapped inside, makes his escape from Bayholde one night just to see what lies in the outside world. What he finds is most certainly not pretty.

______________________________________________

You can bet I'll be posting at least something related to the first or third WIP sometime soon. In the meantime, though, I'll probably fill up the blog with all the other things I mentioned before: drabbles, excerpts, memes, maybe the occasional writing prompt/idea if I feel like it. 

I really look forward to seeing what the rest of Writeblr brings, along with reading everyone else's works/WIPs! :)

— A.