#I wonder how many people it will piss off…

[messenger-of-babel]

Could you write about the sweetheart grips? Soldiers in ww2 used to put photos of their lovers on the grips of their guns and I think that would be cute with Jason.

Eye for An Eye

Summary: Jason keeps a photo of you in his gun to keep you close to him, even in his hardest moments. (Jason Todd x reader)

Word Count: 2.7K

Notes: dear anon I really, really wanted to make this sweet. But then I got an angst idea and- I tried to do it justice without too many tears. Forehead kisses for you because as soon as you sent this in I legit thought about this idea for like three days straight I fell in love with the concept. I might use it again for other Jason fics you got me hooked (I was a MASSIVE military history nerd). Warnings for description of violence and injury, character death, some choppy writing. Back onto my angst train, I'm so sorry y'all (I'll write this concept sweeter sometime, I SWEAR).

ALSO HAPPY 100 POSTS. It's crazy when I remember I'm still a baby blog. <3

Enjoy~! RiRi xoxo <3

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Bruce had never been one for guns, and while Jason was Robin, he hadn't either.

He didn't consider himself a particularly violent child or had any real craving to use weapons. After all, he never really hit anyone who didn't deserve it, and he got great satisfaction of getting back at people who thought they could hurt innocent civilians just because they were bigger and older than him.

That was until he was taken by Joker and showed just how much hurt someone older and bigger than could inflict.

April 27th, the date that the Joker killed Jason Todd.

Now, he couldn’t imagine his hands without the comforting grip of his pistol. The grips were designed just for him, slotting into the contours of his fingers and worn away in the areas he instinctually rubbed. They were wide so they sat snug in his large palms, with a coarse texture in the areas he habitually flexed. The grip allowed it to stick to his gloves for a steadier shot while it would simply irritate anyone else who tried to hold them.

Everyone knew that those guns were Jasons, but nothing said it quite like the new addition of the faded photo tucked into the grips. The colt's had originally come with wooden handgrips, which were quickly removed while he made his modifications.

"You know the Bat isn't gonna be happy with you getting another set of guns." Dick calls out, approaching his worktable in the cave. Jason just grunts at him over his shoulder, making sure he keeps the screws where he can see them.

"Bruce can honestly suck it up." he huffs, the mention of the Bat souring his demeanour immediately. Jason had wanted to do this in his apartment for this exact same reason. He knew Stephanie would annoy him with questions if she caught sight of him, and that Tim would interject constantly with 'improvements' he deemed necessary. Duke he could deal with, and Cass would leave him well enough alone.

Dick and Damian just managed to piss him off simply existing sometimes.

Mostly when he was already in a bad mood.

His older brother trots down the stairs, a frown forming on his face as he puts his hands on his hips to observe.

"Quiet." Jason mumbles flatly, knowing the older vigilante was giving him a disapproving stare. Dick ignores him, eyeing the photo tucked up near his water bottle.

"Jason," he says, voice a warning tone.

"I said quiet." he cuts off, wiping the area down with a damp cloth. Dick just sighs behind him as Jason gingerly picks up the photo, rubbing his calloused thumbs over it. Dick wants to say something as he eyes the photo but can't bring himself to speak above the block in his chest. He watches the tension ease from his brother’s shoulders, the muscles that had been stiffly held by his ears for weeks. The scowl he wore softened slightly, and he could actually hear him exhale for once instead of wondering if his chest actually was moving or not. Instead, Dick sighs in reluctance, giving in. Dick watches him with sad eyes, clapping a hand on his shoulder with a slight squeeze. "Don't forget to, you know," he leans forward slightly and draws a circle with his finger on a certain point of the photo. Jason's face ripples with a flash of pain, but he watches his younger brother grit his teeth and nod.

"Look after yourself, Jay." he murmurs, pulling back. "Don't do anything stupid."

Jason waits a little bit before turning back the photo, ensuring that Dick had left the cave. A still silence settled over the dim space once more. It didn't help the hum in his head, making his fingers and muscles shake, the white noise refusing to settle in his conscious. He gently drew on the photo of you with pencil, tracing the shape that he needed for the grip and ensuring that you weren't cut out by accident.

It was a favourite photo of his, taken at one of Bruce's galas. He hadn't wanted to go, hardly showing to the events in the first place. "Full of rich idiots trying to get even richer." he had told you, tossing a look over his shoulder to you. You were standing at the door, holding the invite that had been slipped through the mail slot. You waved the thick cardstock, a small smile on your face. "Aw, but I was kinda looking forward to going." you say, looking over the details. "I think it'll be fun."

"The only one who thinks those things are fun are Dick and Steph if she's around. Tim will get bored and probably turn into a loan shark if left unattended too long. So yeah, fun." he grumbled.

"What about Dami?"

Her turns around, eyebrows raised.

"I’m sorry?" he asks. "When did we start calling the demon child, Dami? We're on nickname level now?"

He hates how his heart flutters in his chest when he hears you laugh, melting away his annoyance.

"He's sweet, just a little prickly. like you." you grin, coming to wrap your arms around his neck, pecking him on the lips.

"Yeah, he's sweet to you, he's a little shit to everyone else." he grumbles.

"Sounds like someone else I know." you tease.

He can't help but grin, sighing out through his nose softly. "Fine. we can go." he grumbles, knowing he won’t be able to stay mad at you for long.

The photo he traces was from that night, you tucked into his side. You're staring at the camera with a sparkle in your eye, lips pulled back into a wide grin. You're wearing black to fit the theme of the ball, with red accents, matching him. He’s got his arm around your shoulder, taking the photo with you pressed up against him. He thinks you look stunning, eyes twinkling at him from the page.

He takes the exacto knife and gently runs it over the image, cutting himself out so that he can focus on you. The piece pops free, and he trims the edges. His heart thrums as he slides you onto the handle, fluttering with a tame delight.

"Don't forget to, you know..."

Dick’s voice floats back into his mind, and the corners of his lips twitch downwards once more. Reluctantly he pulls your photo from the handle and reaches for a screwdriver to his left, bringing it above the paper. He feels like he's about to stab you, the way the metal tip hovers above the image smiling back at him.

But he does it, heart clenching with each scrape across your eyes, slowly erasing the twinkle he loved so much. There's something sickening about the feeling of scratching your face out, the gritty sound of the photo tearing and leaving white streaks in its wake making his stomach flip. Finally, it's done, stark white lines blotting out your gaze. All that's left is the upturn of your lips, and the soft smile you wore.

With a heavy sigh Jason slots it back onto the handle, placing the clear protector over you. At least nothing could damage you more than he already had. He told himself it was for the better, as he cleaned his hands on a nearby rag and bit the inside of his cheek. You weren't the most supportive of his guns, but you liked that they kept him safe. You had had a few conversations with him about it but never an argument. He wanted to keep you close, but he knew he wasn't going to be an idiot about it. He wanted to protect you, hide your identity from any eagle-eyed thugs.

"Besides," he thought to himself. "Don't want em seeing what I'm about to do."

Maybe it was for the best that he covered your face for this.

His body hums with adrenaline, still alone in the Batcave. With scarred fingers he screws the cover onto the grip, clear cover sitting flush and keeping your photo secure. Jasons tosses it a few times in his hand, getting used to the feeling of the new colt pistols and making sure you weren't going to shake loose. When he was content, he looked over his shoulder, scanning the shadows for movement.

He knew that Bruce would condemn his actions, he didn’t even need to ask on that front. Dick would be understanding but try to hold him back, and Tim would try to talk him out of it. The only person he felt that silently agreed with him was Damian, the pair of them fostering an unlikely bond in the last few weeks.

Everyone in the manor knew what Jason was thinking.

What Jason was doing spending his nights in the Batcave, the one place he had grown to hate ever since coming back.

What he contemplated as he haunted the halls of the manor, the place he often traded in for the comfort of his downtown apartment.

Everyone knew what Jason was going to do tonight, yet none of them were game enough to say it out loud or stop him.

Therefore, Jason took their silence as compliance because he knew somewhere deep down, they wanted him to do it.

Or was he deluding himself?

He shook the thought from his head, holstering the newly decorated pistol. He was already dressed and strapped for this mission, no turning back now. With heavy hands he donned his helmet, taking a deep breath as he pushed Jason aside to become Red Hood. The air was still, as if the Batcave was filled with spirits watching him in silence as he mounted the bike and pressed the key for the garage door, speeding out.

He was already haunted by too many ghosts.

The streets of Gotham were relatively quiet, the usual alleys he stalked devoid of the thugs he would have expected. It seemed that even the city was holding its breath, civilians tucked safely inside. He knew where he was going.

He had been receiving mocking invites in the mail for the last week, notes attached to crime scenes in a gory fashion just to mock him. So really, it was no surprise when he arrived at Gotham cemetery, parking outside and not even bothering to kill the engine. He wasn’t going to be long anyways.

Just past the cemetery was the crumbling shell of Arkham, ivy covering the brickwork and roof caving in. His boots crushed broken panes of glass as he entered the decaying mental hospital, leaves scattered through the building from wrinkled trees that had cracked through the floors. He slowly made his way to the upper floor, where he had seen the lights.

Instinctually he reached for his gun, and he felt his heart calm sliding his hand over your picture secured into his sweetheart grip. He hadn't felt this anxious fighting in a while, unused to the way that his pulse thudded against his neck or the dryness that crept into his mouth. The corridor felt like it stretched on forever, making his vision swim trying to reach the light at the end.

Candlelight flickered weakly at the end of the hall, luring him in like a moth. As he stepped in he took note of it, hand tightening. Jason knew he was going to play with him, taunt and torture him. The images of you taped up on the peeling walls were enough. Photos that spanned back months, photos of you on dates, at work, in his car, in your apartment, blurry photos of you and him in his bed. His thumb instinctually placed itself over your eyes, despite them already being scratched out.

He didn't need you seeing the messy patchwork of your life.

Jason didn't even mind the photos, knowing the sadist would be doing something like that. What he did mind though were the images of you from three weeks ago, the same images that Dick had refused to let him see, that Tim wiped off the Batcomputer hard drive and Babs had removed from the GCPD database. The ones displaying the blood, the bone, the bruising.

Your eyes, unseeing.

Everything that was so familiar to him, but so foreign on you.

Everything that that one curved piece of metal had caused way back when, stained a dark brown. The same piece of metal that was sitting in the middle of the desk at the centre of the crude shrine, drying with a fresher coat of oxidised red.

He felt his heart rise to his throat, but he wasn’t sure if it was bile in his throat or the taste of blood from his bitten lip. His grip turned white, muscles flexing under the skin and pressing unnaturally hard. He felt the green tinged mania inside him rear its head, threatening to take over his mind and act purely on instinct. The Lazarus pit clawed and pulled at his soul harder that it had in years, gasping at him like a beggar, screaming for a shred of violence to feed it.

He knew the game. He knew all of this was to provoke him, try to get Jason to release the rage inside him. The monster wanted to see him squirm, see him struggle to keep himself in check. He wanted to watch Jason Todd fight against the Red Hood, watch the Bats moral code play out on his face.

Well, Jason wasn't Batman. He wasn't Bruce.

As soon as a skinny figure moved from the shadows to his right, his pistol was out in a flash. His free hand ripped the mask from his face, jaw tight and eyebrows furrowed, but he felt more relaxed than he had been in ages.

He was no Batman. He was Jason Todd.

And Jason was going to do the one thing Bruce had always been too much of a coward to do.

With one crisp bang the clown couldn’t get a single word out before he was splayed on the floor. As Jason stepped over the body he regarded it apathetically, barely biting down the urge to step on it. The bastards’ lips were pulled back in a wide smile, even in death. Maybe he had expected Jason to do this, maybe it was his last hurrah as an asshole, but Jason didn't care.

He didn’t even feel scared at the idea of the aftermath as a retraced his steps out of the abandoned building, mounting his still-running bike.

There hadn't been a single gloat before the gun cracked through the night, not a single joke or pun or taunt to leave the devil’s mouth. Bruce might have entertained it, let him play it out, but not Jason.

For Jason, everything that needed to be said had been said in actions.

The air was strangely cool, devoid of the humidity that nomrally hung in the streets. The city itself seemed to be sighing, taking a breath like the chord holding the city on a leash had been cut. He relished the feeling of it on his skin, the cracks in his suit letting the breeze run across his knuckles and where his mask met his neck. He imagined the cool fingers were you, cradling his face and whispering for him to take a rest, and he let his eyes flutter closed briefly.

 As he hit a red light he took a pause, reaching his hand down to pat where you were, tucked tightly under his hip. He didn't care what the reaction was going to be when he reached the manor, or the screaming match that was likely going to destroy what was left of his relationship with his pseudo father. All that matters is that he had done right by you, that he had done what he wished someone had done for him.

April 17th, the night Jason Todd killed the Joker.

[parker-artio]

So when I stay up too late I hear what sounds like a high pitched screeching whistle sound. And I’m up right now (it’s like 4:30am when im writing this, I plan on drafting it and posting it- at some fucking point idfk) and I just heard it, followed by what sounded like a giggle?

And I’m rewatching YJ rn, and I thought of Robin (Tim or Dick, pick you poison), and the way they just disappear with the sound of a giggle. It makes me wonder if that like in the comics, if they do that too, they’d definitely add like some kinda demonic creature sounds behind it too.

Right?

I mean were talking about:

Richard (Dick) ‘I’m as dramatic as my ass is iconic to the fandom, yet everyone ignores it’ Grayson- Wayne

Jason ‘theater kid’ Todd- Wayne

Timothy (Tim) ‘I acted like Robin and Tim were two completely separate people at all times- even to the point I dated a girl as Robin, then was also dating a girl as Tim at the same time’ Drake- Wayne

Stephanie (Steph) ‘Fuck Bruce. Fuck my dad. Fuck authority. I do what I want, and while I’m at it, let’s shake it up a bit’ Brown

And of course, Damian ‘I’m the bold son. I have and can kill you in 2,000 ways without anything in a five mile radius, all directions around. Plus, you piss me off, so I will in fact stab you so you bleed out and die a painful death- OH WAIT, I’ve decided I wanna be a doctor instead. Fuck Robin’ Al Ghul-Wayne

You’re telling me they WOULDNT,??.!?.

Also let’s not forget Maps. She’s like- the blueprint. She’s totally wild.

(No one say shit about this to me, she needs her time to shine I love her so much. I’ve read so many comics illegally just to get more about her).

Also- it just sounds funny to me. 

-note: I just found this in my drafts from idk how many days go. So please enjoy this….?

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Headcanon - Human Overlords

Really need to flesh this out, have so many ideas which way it could go.

-----------

Something something magic something overlords are forcibly reverted to human and suddenly have targets on their backs. 

More than a few people want the chance to usurp their overlords and break the chains on their necks.

A few centuries in hell have given them abilities, of course, and some had physical prowess beforehand in hand to hand or weaponry… but when their access to demonic powers is severed, what chance do they have?

If they could stop the infighting and posturing for half a fucking second, of course.

Valentino, tall even as a human, tried to tower over people who were now within at least half a foot of him rather than waist/chest height. It didn't work as well as he'd hoped, and Alastor personally found it hilarious. Perhaps it was the attire that made it hard to take the former moth seriously?

“And if those fuckers break down the door, get inside, then what are you going to do, talk ‘em to death?” Val sneers right into the too-calm face.

“Hah, well no. Not exactly. However, if I am given access to any kind of weaponry, if dear Charlotte would stop being so panicked about human fragility, I can demonstrate my former alternate profession to you. Perhaps on your foul self, you seem fantastically expendable.”

“Oh go fuck yourself you frigid prick! Voxxy, what did you ever see in this little cappucino bastard? Granted he's pretty on the eyes, but he's rancid to the core-...”

Something sharp passes in the deep brown eyes, and a previously concealed blade slams deep into Valentino’s left shoulder as the slightly shorter man pivots and slams Val to the floor, pinning him effortlessly to allow greater opportunity to twist the blade.

It was a blink and you'll miss it moment. To the shock of many present, and the loud swearing of one overlord. 

“You seem awfully confident that your silly little act will keep everyone at bay, Valentino, but even you have to sleep sometime. And you are not even in the weight class of the most challenging persons I took down. But you certainly have their bluster..."

Vox pinched at the bridge of his nose, delighted at having one to pinch, and wondering how best to keep the idiot alive. He was also willing his arousal to stay down because it really wasn't that hot to see Al pinning Val and...

Ah fuck. He clears his throat.

“Val, please don’t taunt the most prolific serial killer of our century…”

“The WHAT?”

“It was hardly a secret, dear, do keep up.” Alastor grinned, the smile still sharp despite regular human teeth lining the gums. It was somewhat unnerving.

Vox remembered looking up everything on alastor when they’d been friends, when Al had trusted him with tidbits from his past. You didn’t want that level of cold, smiling anger aimed at you.

“Babydoll, cancel his ass on Vitter or something, avenge me!” Valentino whines at Velvette, who rolls her eyes and yanks the blade out.

Also to the shouts of many (mostly Charlie and Vaggie) who know basic first aid is to leave the blade in until someone can get medical support…

Angel tries not to laugh as the other pales, fingernails scrabbling on the floorboards. This whole situation is fucking weird, and he's not complaining about the eye candy or the time off from the studio but... this, was a memory going to live in his head rent-free for eternity.

He's going to title it 'Radio Demon penetrates Valentino until he screams' in his mental theatre, mostly becuase it would piss off both currently human overlords if they ever heard tell of it.

“Oi, stop whinging, it’s not life threatening.” Vel huffs, but is clearly oulling up a how-to guide on managing stabbing victims on her phone. She's ,ostly annoyed about not being able to pull it up with a thought, having to (ugh) type like some peasant...

Carmilla is agitated, primarily concerned around the safety of her daughters now that she and all the overlords who would normally be a protective factor against anyone trying something, were bound human.

Zestial was the most impacted, he had almost forgotten his human face at this point, having been from a time long ago. Human frailty was almost entirely alien to him now, and wildly disorienting.

Zeezi has to now revert her mental map of her body to something human sized, after pretty much just getting a handle on her dinoform in the last decade. It was a big change the first time, and now… ugh. 

Overtime, their death marks start to glow, and then slowly, horrifically, the injuries or symptoms begin to come on. A headache here, a persistent twitching of an arm there, etc.

By the time they realise, it’s almost too late to save them.

Not to mention the attacks from their thralls and the general public alike.

Lucifer is annoyed to be asked to help, but when Charlie asks for something… he’ll do it. Besides… it actually made some of the others closer to his height, say… six foot not over seven, so it’s not as much of a nightmare.

More importantly, he's using his powers to shield the suddenly human beings from angelic eyes, because Heaven would be right on up their asses like a rat up a drainpipe if they caught wind of this.

Over time, the other side effect is that the memories of living in hell are being suppressed. They react oddly to the demons in the hotel, sometimes with fear or fury, sometimes with violence, and othertimes... as if they didn't see them at all.

It was strange... and worrying.

Trying to keep them all from killing one another is also difficult.

And, let's be real... the chance to knock about an overlord 'accidentally' was something that Angel and Husk wouldn't admit to enjoying. Even Lucifer found a reason to knock Al into a wall with his wings and feign ignorance...

Except, these aren't sinners. A shove ddown the stairs has major consequences, backhanding someone caused major bruising when it's demon on human, and someone's ribs snap if they're slammed too hard into a wall.

That... takes the fun out of it. The consequences feeling off...

Husk thought he'd enjoy seeing Alastor's face marred with claw marks, but it just kinda... made him sad, especially when there was a moment the overlord's eyes went unfocused and he murmured something in frnech before blinking furiously back to the present. The grin returned, and Alastor invited Husker to do it again, maybe something more violent, really get his revenge...

But... the bartender just couldn't fucking do it.

And Valentino? He wasn't surprised the night Angel stormed into the guest room he was provided, snarling but resigned... waiting to be forced. And perplexed when Angel merely grabbed him with all his many hands and shook him, snarling that he would never be like Val. That even when the power was in his court, he would never... could never...

and hurled the human back on the bed, hard enough to sprain his wrist on impact, but nothing more as he stalked out.

As if he wanted to prove to himself that Angel could never be that way. He felt vindicated and sick, but he knew now.

Vaggie hovered around Carmilla until the woman finally addressed the matter. She spars with Vaggie, andd despite the disparity in strength, her ability and agility made up for it.

Charlie was BESIDE herself about this. Also the rampant attempted murder. How did this happen? How did they make it stop?

Why would ANYONE do this?

Lucifer had to ask Asmodeus to borrow some of his workers with their crystals, to check in on the graves of the overlords, only to find they were all disturbed. Someone had their bones.

But WHY?

For what end?

And that's when they started getting sick, getting tired, getting vague... when they started to bleed through their clothes from wounds that would disappear as swiftly as they appeared.

It was alarming.

This was a lot of effort for, as Lucifer put it, just a bunch of self important sinners. There had to be something else at play. A misdirection perhaps?

[Flesh out]

no real plan with this, just a vision of like, constantly stopping different overlords from trying to kill one another, and the violent nightmare that would be... before things go Very Wrong

[butterflydm]

We are getting so much information today! I feel mildly overwhelmed, lol.

But exciting! The titles are all what we already knew, I think, though we weren't certain exactly where a couple of them would land. My guesses for the season based on these summaries (also spoilers from the recent interviews, since Rosamund did spill some pretty interesting information that may be fairly spoilery):

3x01 - we saw the chaos in the Tower. Is the 'new evil' about the Black Ajah or about the Forsaken? We know that we'll be getting Egwene's Accepted Test and the bubble of evil here (and! new information via Rosamund, who is just full of spoilers, Moiraine may have made some kind of deal with Lanfear to try to separate Rand from his friends, which uh, yeah, seems like it might piss him off if he figures it out, even if he ends up agreeing with the idea that it's safer for him to be alone - but yeah, if Lanfear and Rand's secret meetings start out because of MOIRAINE's interference... well, that just about matches the giant fuck-up that she did in The Shadow Rising when she drove off all of Rand's other potential advisers because she wanted to be the only voice in his ear). We've also heard that Rand & Moiraine are going to argue about his next steps (matching the beginning of TSR) and I'm guessing this is where we get our Callandor mention, as Moiraine will tell him that he needs to go to Tear next, and he overrules her and decides on the Waste.

3x02 - the dangerous visitor is more obviously Elaida but since Lord Gaebril looks to also be visiting the Tower (a guess per a more recent still), he could definitely also qualify. It kinda sounds like Perrin might be a lot further in his journey than Rand & co, since he "returns home" here, while Rand & co "forge" a path, so Perrin might leave at the end of ep1 while Rand & co leave in ep2. I think that Siuan is going to want both the dagger and the Horn 'safely' in the Tower's custody, and I think that's how Mat is going to end up in the 13th Depository and falling into the redstone doorway. Depending on what prophecies we get there, we can figure out if anything in his plotline is going to be cut or if it's all going to be kept. I'm placing it here just because 3x01 sounds so jam-packed and ep2 might be more focused on the group still in the Tower, with the arrival of Elayne's family and all.

3x03 - Nynaeve & Elayne get their assignments from Siuan about hunting the Black Ajah. Perrin runs into the Whitecloaks/Dain Bornhald. I wonder if Lanfear "playing a dangerous game" is about her trying to make alliances with the other Forsaken.

3x04 - Rhuidean! <3 <3 <3 <3

3x05 - I'm guessing Rand's "dark secret" that Egwene finds out is that he's been meeting with Lanfear since 3x01 (and we get the "Do you love her?" conversation from the trailer). Perrin rescues people from the Whitecloaks. Nynaeve & co arrive in Tanchico and we potentially run into Thom (depending on how many episodes we get him).

first 5 episode titles and blurbs are up!!

[2deadkat]

The update to the 2Deadkat national flag

[scimagic]

Oh!!! Not an episode- but a TRAILER- A fully animated TRAILER for a MOVIE- I SEE YOU SMG4 I SEE YOU

OUGH,,, THAT ANIMATION THOOOOO IT LOOKED AMAZING!! They learned so much since Murder Drones and TADC, even the previous smg4 movies and trailers!! You love to see the growth folks

I thought it was going to be an episode showing how the crew could possibly escape but nope!! Full hopelessness!! For now at least- my brain is running around wondering how they're gonna get outta this one, it's probably simpler than what I'm thinking, after completing the challenges they defeat Puzzles, easy as that fhdsajk BUT IT'S ABOUT THE JOURNEY!! THE STAKES!! THE PERIL!

Jumping in my seat up and down until WOTFI!!!

[alexandersfyp]

"But Alexander manipulated Daniel... He's an evil manipulator and you shouldn't like him"

Are we forgetting that Agrippa did the exact same thing to Alexander? He promised him that he will be the one to enter the portal.

He and Johann literally used him for their goal to open the portal, (by telling him to make a traveler locket). Making the baron to trust them, manipulating him into thinking that he will be the one to enter, when in reality he was just there to provide them both with sources that helped them to open the portal gate, but Agrippa made him believe that he will be the one to go to Zerzura, despite Alexander doing so much for him he ended up straight up backstabbed by Agrippa and left alone with nothing at the end.

"Erm but Daniel was way easier to get manipulated because he was mentally distressed" Alexander too, he most likely believed in every single Agrippa's word because he made him to think that he will finally return home and reunite with his love for which he horribly longs for and already tries everything he can to return to her for hundreds of years, and also because he simply wanted to get away from the world where people wanted him to be killed (after he was involved with prussian politics)

At the end I want to also add that by certain circumstances a manipulated person can become a manipulator as well.

[bitter-sweet-coffee]

day 1 of trying to piss off the sonic fandom so i either get blacklisted or blocked by as many people as possible:

we have all poked sonadow fans for bastardizing the canon characters into uwu smol bean gays. but you know which ship fanbase does it worse and more obnoxiously?

espilver. yeah. sonadow still has a poetic foil and people have seen fandub footage of sa2 at LEAST, if not the original game. we all know their story, but how many espilver fans have played rivals 2, the origin of the ship? alternatively, how many SILVER fans are gonna woobify the guy into a chibi bastardization?

when you tell someone you don’t ship sonadow, it’s whatever. the second an espio or silver ship other than espilver shows up, it’s like 9/11 because there are always whiny people jamming their 2 cents in. if you think i’m making that up, or if you haven’t experienced it yourself, you are LUCKY.

fun fact: i used to love espilver, it was a genuine favourite of mine for years. then i saw how brainrottingly stupid the fandom made it, and it’s now such a minefield to navigate that i’ve given up on the whole concept entirely. i’m sure there are good fans, but i’m in no mood to be dumpster diving.

anyways, if you’re reading this post as an espilver fan and feel hurt or mad or want to comment something to convince me otherwise, BLOCK ME! PLEASE! I AM ACTIVELY TRYING TO CLEANSE MY CIRCLE!!! TODAY I BLOCKED ALMOST 600 FOLLOWERS JUST TO BE LEFT ALONE WITH ONLY CHILL GUYS!

note: i’m not attacking anyone as a person, i’m attacking the general fanon woobification phenomenon. this isn’t about a particular creator or their work, this is about the ship as a whole. people can make whatever they want, and in the same vein, i can call it fucking stupid. if you’re offended or think i’m an asshole though, even if it’s just for doing this and you’re not an espilver fan, block me too. please. i’m actively trying to get rid of people and this helps

[rusquared]

does tumblr have the equivalent of twitter's softblocking? bc on twitter ill sometimes see an account that i could've sworn i followed before. and like. they could have very much soft-blocked me. but also i have horrible memory and will just assume that i forgot to follow them!

[confused-wanderer]

The villains are utterly confused.

They remember the first robin. They remember how bloodthirsty the little gremlin was, how he appeared out of the darkness with a “HIYA FOLKS” that gave people near heart attacks with PTSD so bad they flinched everytime they walked into a dark corner. They remember his grin, baring few too many teeth with a glint in his eyes whenever the bat wasn’t around to curb him. They remember the death stare, the brooding that made no one doubt this was the Bat’s son. They remember how a punch would land a lot harder than it was supposed to, or the screaming that followed. Oh they remembered him alright.

The second one thank the stars was better. The second robin was giggly. He would hop around town, offering his help to everyone who needed it. Sure he was rough with abusers but hell no one cared about them. Matter of fact, the villains were glad because those assholes deserved no sympathy. They remember his puns, his wonder, his innocence and his spark. They remembered his laughter, his concern - the kind that only comes from one who’s been on the streets. This one was better, and the villains thanked their lucky stars. They remembered him alright.

But now, as the years passed and new characters emerged, the crime city saw the rise of two characters - a sunshine happy nightwing and a ready to kill red hood. And naturally, from their experiences in the past, the villains ended up making an honest mistake that ruined the two vigilantes’ reputation:

The villains assumed the first robin was Red Hood and the other was Nightwing. And BY GOD Gotham has not seen unhinged chaos like this.

SCENE 1

Red Hood *drawing his pistol* : Please, reach for your weapon. I’m itching for an excuse for my intrusive thoughts to become extrusive.

Two-Face: You dare mock me little bird?! Well.. I may not have my weapon.. but I have something I know you’d like..

Red Hood: Oh yeah?What’s that?

Two-Face: TAKE THIS! *slams button and coconuts start falling from the sky, all cracking and spilling as they hit the ground*

Red Hood:

Two-Face:

Red Hood: .. the fuck was that supposed to do?

Two-Face: .. HOW ARE YOU STILL STANDING?! YOU HATE COCONUTS ROBIN!!

Red Hood: The fuck- .. wait did you call me robin?

Two-Face *grins* : Yea.. robin. The first one. Thought I didn’t notice?

Red Hood: The first one? Does this *gestures vaguely to himself and his weapons* seem like something the first robin would do?

Two-Face:

Goon 1: I mean.. yeah

Red Hood: What! The first robin was nice!

Goon 2 *guffawing*: I beg your fucking pardon??

Two-Face: .. you took my coin and attached a magnet beneath it so everytime I flipped it it wouldn’t stop spinning. Do you know how long that took me to figure out?? Do you know how insane it drove me?? Joker had to help me out of pity. OUT. OF. PITY.

Red Hood:

Goon 1: ..Also you did steal some of our bones

Red Hood: hedidfuckingwhatnow-

SCENE 2

Nightwing: Hey there buddy! You look frostyl!

Dr. Freeze: Aha! You are too late to stop me robin!

Nightwing: .. robin?

Dr. Freeze: why yes! Don’t act coy, I know it’s you there. Now that we’ve got that clear.. I was wondering if you remembered all those years ago when you gave me a source for electricity to power a hospital keeping my Nora?

Nightwing:

Dr. Freeze: well you weren’t careful enough and never told me how much I could take from it.. so I used it to power so many of my inventions that came after

Nightwing *remembering when Jason was robin and every damn time he came to visit Wayne Manor his room would always run out power and the countless cold showers in freezing winters he had to take because of it*: .. oh? Well, sorry to break your bubble, but that wasn’t me Elsa.

Dr. Freeze: no? You joke around, make puns and I’m supposed to believe it’s NOT you?. The first one brooded like there was no tomorrow. He pissed me off so bad once I overheard him saying his favourite ice cream flavour and I made sure it wouldn’t be available in Gotham for YEARS. You’re not as bad as the first one. I’d remember if you were him.

Nightwing:

Nightwing *firing up his escrima sticks to maximum voltage*: Oh let me jog your memory then :)

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 10.4k tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation a/n: eek series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter

i mean, im not that surprised he’s sexy as hell

that’s actually crazy

imagine hiding your son for five years 😶😶 how can you be ashamed of that

doesn’t he literally have a girlfriend?? himari nakamura??

        ↳ yep for almost two years now

       ↳ wonder how she’s holding up i’d be pissed, unless she knew 

rich people are always shady as fuck

You don’t even know how many comments you’ve read. Staying up practically the entire night, busying yourself with the endless scrolling of people who have not a single clue of how your life actually is. Meddling in your business and acting like the shit they’re spouting on the internet is okay. 

They ranged from positive (sort of) to extremely personal and negative. 

i bet she just did it for the child support 

i wonder if he’s actually the dad, women like that lie and lie just cuz the dad is rich as fuck

i feel so bad for that boy

Bad? Why would they feel bad for him? You’ve given everything you can and then some to ensure Koji’s safety and innocence. You’ve never put him in harm’s way, difficult situations, hit him, nothing. Of course you’ve raised your voice, but every parent does. Why are these reasons suddenly acting like they know a fucking thing or two? This is insane. 

The only positive ones you see are praising your son for how cute he is, how much he looks like Satoru, and how he’ll probably get everything he wants. That’s not true, you’re not going to spoil your kid and you’re sure as hell not letting Satoru do it either; he’s humble, that’s how you want him to be. Still, you do feel uneasy at strangers on the internet for talking about your baby like this, in reference to a photo none of you knew was taken. 

And you still don’t know who took it. 

That’s what infuriates you the most. Because who in their right mind would do that? Who thinks they’re that fucking entitled to chime in on your personal business—your family. 

When you find them, you swear on everything you’re punching them. 

Your head hangs low, the hood of your sweatshirt pulled tight, shielding your face as you step into the café. You keep your gaze down, avoiding the eyes of the baristas and patrons scattered around. The familiar hum of the espresso machine feels deafening today.

Maybe no one will notice. Maybe no one cares.

But you know better.

That damn image, plastered across every TV screen and newsfeed yesterday, is still burned into your mind. Why do people even care this much? You’re beyond pissed off. Who in their right mind thinks they have the right to invade your personal life like that? To turn your family into fodder for the public?

Maybe no one will say anything. Who even watched the news anyway? 

More people than you think, actually. You keep moving, but Hana has other plans.

“Y/N!” Her voice cuts through the noise like a whip, and before you can react, she grabs your forearm, dragging you into the storage room in the back.

“Hey, what the—” you start to protest, wincing as her grip tightens, but she doesn’t care. She whirls around to face you, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief.

“What the hell is going on?!” she demands, gesturing wildly with her hands. “You were on the news yesterday!”

Your stomach churns at the reminder, and your jaw clenches tightly. You pull your hood down, resigning yourself to the conversation you were hoping to avoid. “I know that already,” you snap, folding your arms across your chest.

“Koji’s father is multi-billionaire Satoru Gojo?!” Her voice rises in pitch, and she looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. “Is that for real? You’ve been hiding this?!”

You take a deep breath, counting to three in your head. “Yes, Hana. It’s real. Koji’s father is Satoru Gojo. Can we not do this right now?”

But Hana doesn’t back down, her wide eyes searching your face for answers. “Are you kidding me? Of course we’re doing this right now! You’ve been sitting on this—” she throws her hands up, “—while the rest of us thought you were just, like, a regular single mom? What the hell, Y/N?”

“Because it’s none of anyone’s business!” you hiss, your voice rising then lowering, not wanting anyone else to overhear. “Do you think I wanted this to come out? Do you think I wanted his world to invade mine?”

Hana softens slightly, her eyebrows knitting together in concern. “Okay, fair. But you should’ve told me, at least. I mean, I’m your friend.”

“I didn’t tell anyone for a reason and I don’t owe anyone anything,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair. “And now it’s everywhere. Do you know how terrifying that is? For me? For Koji?”

Hana sighs, leaning back against the wall. “Okay, okay. I get it. This whole thing’s a mess. But what are you going to do now? I mean, the story’s out. People are gonna talk, Y/N. A lot. Especially if it involves a man like him.”

You swallow hard, the weight of her words settling heavily on your shoulders. “I don’t know,” you admit quietly, your voice trembling. “I just want to protect my son.”

Hana nods, her expression softening further. “We’ll figure it out. But you’re gonna need a plan. And.”

“Hana, I—“ you’re really trying not to snap at her, really. But she’s pushing every button you have right now and your patience is running extremely low. Don’t snap, she’s just worried.  “I know what to do, thank you. But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t meddle in my business too. We’re friends, yes, but understand right now that I’m going through a lot of shit and don’t need to be told what to do and when to do it. So get off my back.”

Hana blinks, a little caught off guard by your sudden announcement. Her mouth slightly agape, clearly not having expected your outburst. For a moment, she doesn’t say anything, her expression shifting between hurt and something close to understanding. She straightens, her arms falling from where they’d been crossed over her chest. “Y/N, I wasn’t trying to—” she begins, her voice softer now, but you cut her off.

“I know,” you say, your voice quieter but still firm. “I know you’re trying to help, Hana. And I’m grateful, I am. But right now, I need to handle this on my own. I need space. Can you give me that?”

She nods slowly, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Okay,” she says after a moment. “I get it. I’ll back off. Just—if you need anything, anything at all, I’m here. You know that, right?”

You exhale, some of the tension easing from your shoulders. “Yeah. I know.”

Hana offers you a small, tentative smile before stepping aside, giving you the room you so desperately need. As she moves to leave, she hesitates at the curtains, glancing back at you. “For what it’s worth, Y/N…I think you’re handling this a lot better than you think you are.”

You don’t respond, just nod in acknowledgment, and she disappears back into the front of the café. Alone in the small back room, you lean against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment to gather your thoughts.

Better than I think, huh? You shake your head, rubbing at your temples. It doesn’t feel that way. 

You’d be lying to yourself if you said this probably won’t be that bad; not a big deal. But hell, it was huge. You hate unnecessary attention, especially attention from hundreds, if not thousands of random strangers. You’re recalling the incident from earlier when you dropped Koji off at school. Mr. Ito stopping you once more and confessing his surprise to you. In his words, “I didn’t know Koji had such an…esteemed father.”

You held back a slew of insults, keeping it classy, as always. But as the days go on and the more shit that seems to be happening to you, you’re getting this close to breaking that. It’s the way he, everyone else, and even Hana seems so…shocked. The lingering glances from other parents at drop-off, the whispers in the hallways. It’s the way their surprise feels so…palpable. You get it, in a way. Satoru Gojo is larger than life—powerful, wealthy, and untouchable in a way most people only dream of. But still, the shock in their eyes stings more than it should. Did they think you weren’t of caliber to bag a man like Satoru? Did they think a man like that wouldn’t even dream of having a child with a woman like you? It feels a tad bit insulting. Actually, scratch that—it feels like a slap in the face.

The implications gnaw at you, poking at insecurities you’d rather not acknowledge. This is exactly why you hate social media. You’re already growing too conscious of the comments people are making—caring too much and it was just revealed. And the worst part? You can’t even fully blame them. Satoru’s world is one you’ve never truly belonged to. You’re not the glossy, magazine-cover type, and you don’t have the pedigree or connections his circle would expect. But that doesn’t mean you’re less than, and it sure as hell doesn’t mean Koji is any less precious because of it.

 You sigh, rubbing at your temples. If only these people could see you for who you truly are—if they could see the strength it takes to raise a child on your own, to hold your head high even when the world tries to tear you down. But no, all they see is the scandal and the drama, their curiosity morphing into judgment. Sure, you made mistakes—big and bad ones. But you’re doing all this in order to make up for those mistakes. And sure, Satoru doesn’t 100% forgive you—you’re not sure he ever will—but you don’t think he would agree with these kinds of comments being made. Right? 

You huff. Let them talk, you think bitterly, though the tightness in your chest betrays the confidence you’re trying to muster. Let them all talk, they know nothing. 

The minutes feel like hours. Unsure of how long you’ve exactly been here. Equally nervous about looking at your phone to check.

“Oh my god, look. It’s her.”

“Shhh! She’ll hear you.”

“I wonder if she’ll give us pointers.”

“You’re insane.”

The conversation doesn’t fly over your head. t’s like they want you to hear, voices loud enough to penetrate the usual clatter of the café. You swear, they’re practically aiming their words right at you. Your grip tightens around the rag in your hand, knuckles going white as you scrub the already spotless table. The motion is a little too aggressive, the poor table bearing the brunt of your simmering frustration. Your jaw clenches, brows knitting together as you try—desperately—to keep your temper in check. Jaw clenching and brows knitting together, you’re counting down to ten and back.

One…two…three… you recite in your head, attempting to steady your breath. It’s an old habit—one you learned a while back from you’re therapist, one you’ve relied on in situations like this, but today it feels like it’s barely working. Four…five…six.

You glance up, just for a second, and immediately regret it. The group of girls sits near the window, leaning into each other as they giggle, their eyes darting your way. They’re not even trying to hide it anymore. One of them, a blonde with an annoyingly perfect smile, nudges her friend and whispers something, sending the others into another fit of laughter. Your fingers flex around the rag, itching to throw it across the room. Breathe, you remind yourself. Just breathe. They’re not worth it. But it’s hard to ignore the knot tightening in your chest, the sting of humiliation creeping in despite your best efforts. Because you know exactly what they’re laughing about, what they’re whispering about. It’s not just idle curiosity—it’s judgment, plain and simple. And maybe, just maybe, if this were any other day, you’d let it roll off your back. But today? After everything that’s happened? After seeing your son’s face plastered on screens and hearing people dissect your life like it’s a soap opera? You toss the rag onto the table, standing up straighter as you look their way. They immediately quiet down, eyes widening like they’ve been caught red-handed.

“Can I help you?” you ask, voice calm but carrying just enough edge to make them squirm.

The blonde fidgets, her confidence faltering under your gaze. “Oh, um, no, we were just…”

“Enjoying your coffee?” you finish for her, forcing a tight smile. “Good. Let me know if you need anything else.” Without waiting for a response, you turn on your heel and walk behind the counter, the satisfaction of their stunned silence doing little to ease the weight in your chest. Nine…ten… You exhale slowly, trying to let it go, but the anger simmers just beneath the surface.

It’s going to be a long day.

—-

The walk back home with Koji feels like you never want to use your senses again. It feels like a marathon you never signed up for, every step heavier than the last. The pounding in your head has escalated into a full-blown migraine, the sharp pain clawing at the edges of your skull. You clench your teeth, trying to hold it together, willing the tears pricking at your eyes to stay put. Koji chatters beside you, his small hand in yours, his voice a muffled hum against the overwhelming throb in your head.

 So much has changed within just the span of a week and none of it feels good. You like change, but not like this. Not the kind of change that’s so spontaneous and out of nowhere that it makes you dread the littlest things. The kind of change where you feel like every way you turn, it’s a dead end. Every thought spiraling into another reminder of how much you’ve lost control, or of how much you never had it to begin with. The kind of change that you never fucking asked for in the first place. The kind of change where you feel like a ticking timebomb. A simple walk home feels like an obstacle course. The sound of Koji’s innocent laughter, once a balm to your soul, now feels like a weight pressing down on you, a reminder of how fragile your balance is.

This change doesn’t come with warnings or instructions. It doesn’t let you adjust, and doesn’t give you the chance to prepare. It just dumps its baggage on your doorstep and forces you to deal with it, whether you’re ready or not. And right now, you’re not.

The last thing you want to do is blow up on someone who doesn’t deserve it, especially your son. You glance down at him, his bright eyes scanning the world around him with that endless curiosity only a child can have. His tiny fingers grip yours with a trust that makes your chest ache. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand the storm brewing inside you. And he shouldn’t have to.

“Mommy, are you okay?” Koji’s voice is soft, his head tilted as he looks up at you with concern.

You force a smile, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’m fine, sweetheart,” you manage, squeezing his hand gently. “Just tired.” He nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer, and resumes his animated recount of the day’s events. You let him talk, his voice a small distraction from the noise in your head. One step at a time, you tell yourself. One breath at a time. For him, if not for yourself.

You wonder to yourself how many more times you can continue repeating that phrase to yourself, like a broken record spinning endlessly in your mind. Shouldn’t you be allowed to do some things on your own? Something that isn’t tied to the constant grind of making sure Koji has everything he needs, of shielding him from a world that feels more hostile every day? Everything you do is for him—every decision, every sacrifice, every moment of biting your tongue when you want to scream. It’s all for him. 

But what about you?

The thought is bitter, curling in your chest like smoke. It feels selfish even to entertain it, but the exhaustion is suffocating. How long has it been since you’ve done something just because you wanted to? Since you’ve allowed yourself the luxury of thinking about what you need, instead of what everyone else expects of you? Is it selfish? Is this not how a good mother thinks?

The doubt gnaws at you, persistent and sharp. 

Not like you’d know the answer to that question. Your mother—a woman you rarely ever want to think about—never gave you the guidance for situations like this. You have no inspiration, nothing. You’re doing everything free-handed. She didn’t leave you with blueprints for moments like these, no voice in your head to tell you what’s right, what’s wrong, or even what’s okay. She was a void, an absence, and that absence shaped you more than you’d like to admit.

And now here you are, trying to be everything for your son that she wasn’t for you. But it feels like you’re fumbling in the dark, building something fragile with trembling hands. There’s no instruction manual for this, no map to follow. You’re doing everything on the first try, improvising as you go. Every decision feels like a gamble. Did you do enough today? Did you do too much? Did you make the right call, or are you setting him up for something you can’t even see coming? The uncertainty is exhausting.

You glance at Koji, his small hand still tucked safely in yours, his voice cutting through the haze of your thoughts. He’s so blissfully unaware of the turmoil raging inside you, and that’s how it should be. He deserves that innocence, that security. But the weight of always being the strong one, the reliable one, is starting to crush you. How much longer can I keep this up? The question whispers in your mind, and you hate it. You hate that you’re even asking it, hate that it makes you feel weak. But the truth is, you’re tired.

And you don’t know how much longer you can keep pretending that you’re not.

You focus on Koji again, his small frame silhouetted against the afternoon light of the day. He trusts you implicitly, and looks at you like you’re the answer to everything. And the weight of that trust makes you want to cry and scream in equal measure. How can I possibly live up to that?

They never said motherhood was easy. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. Maybe this is what being a mother really is—second-guessing everything, carrying the weight of your own past, and still showing up every day, trying your best. 

You don’t know if that’s enough. But it’s all you have.

It seems like you’re in for a surprise every second of the day.

Satoru, much to your own dismay and confusion, is perched against your apartment door; waiting for you again. Like a magnet, Koji runs into his lower half, hugging his father with all the strength his five-year-old body will allow. 

“Hey, little man. I’m happy to see you.” Satoru smiles wholeheartedly, patting Koji’s back with gentle ease.

“Hi, Papa! I missed you.” His voice is muffled by Satoru’s clothing.

The older man laughs, relishing in the moment for another second, before opening his light azures. His eyes look like they’re darting all around you, as if making sure you’re okay. Standing up, he shuffles his hands in his pockets.

“What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were coming,” you mutter, walking up closer. Arms crossing. 

He nods. “I know, I–I should’ve told you. But this was urgent and I knew you were busy at work.”

A hum is all you offer, unlocking your apartment door and stepping in. The semi-warmth envelops you like a worn blanket. Finally, in the comfort of my own home. Even if it is just for a little bit before you’re off again. 

“Call off his babysitter.”

You look back, watching him close your door and lock it. “What? Why?”

“Because I’m here.”

Koji runs off to his room, presumably to play with his toy collection. Leaving the two adults alone. Biting your lip, attempting to come up with something to say—or what to say first. Luckily, he beats you to it. “I want you two to spend the night at mine, don’t go to work. I’ll pay you whatever you miss out on. I know you saw the leak and I’m working on figuring out who the hell did it. But until then, I’m a little concerned for your guys’ safety, so stay at mine until we figure things out long-term.”

You stare at him, caught off guard by the resolute earnestness in his voice. The Satoru you know isn’t usually this serious, this concerned. It’s disarming—attractive, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. “This is my home, Satoru,” you finally say, your voice quiet but firm. “I can’t just up and leave because of a leak. And I can’t run every time something like this happens. That’s not a long-term solution either.”

“I get that,” he says, stepping closer. “But this isn’t just about you. It’s about Koji. Someone took that photo, and I don’t know who, or how, or what their intentions are. Until I do, I can’t take chances.”

“And I get that, but I can’t just—sleep at your place.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s just…weird.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he exhales out. “You think something’ll happen? It won’t. I'm doing this for Koji and you because I care. Not because reviving something that’s long-ended is my priority.” 

“It’s not about that,” you snap, your voice rising before you catch yourself. You close your eyes for a second, exhaling sharply, trying to rein in your frustration. “It’s just... complicated, Satoru. You showing up like this, offering to fix things with money, with solutions I didn’t ask for, for problems I never wanted—it’s overwhelming.”

He takes another step closer, his presence filling the small entryway. “You think I don’t understand that?” His voice softens but carries an edge of urgency. “Y/N, I’m not trying to make this harder for you. I know this is all... messy. But I can’t sit around and pretend I’m okay with you and Koji being here while someone out there is bold enough to invade your privacy like that. I’m trying to protect you. You can’t keep pushing me away like this, you said you wanted to make things better.”

“I know, but—”

“Then stop it. Stop arguing, complaining, whatever. You’re not going to keep me out of Koji’s life any longer, or yours. They already posted another damn picture of you today at work.”

What? You blink your eyes, widening them. You don’t even want to see the photo evidence, gulping down the weird lump that forms in your throat. What the fuck is going on with my life right now? You hesitate, biting your lip. His words chip away at your defenses, but the walls you’ve built don’t crumble that easily. “And what happens if we go to your place? What’s next? You swoop in, play hero, and then leave us when this blows over?”

His jaw tightens, the faint hurt flashing in his eyes almost imperceptible. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“Isn’t it?” you counter, arms crossing tightly over your chest, a weak attempt to shield yourself from the weight of the conversation. “That’s what you always do, Satoru. You show up when it’s convenient for you, and when it’s not, you disappear.”

The words hang heavy in the air, stinging both of you. For a moment, he doesn’t respond, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I’m not leaving you this time,” he says quietly, lifting his eyes back to yours. “Not until I know you two are safe. I’m not running, Y/N. Not from this. But you have to stop trying to keep me at arm's length, I’m trying my best to help.” His eyes lock onto yours, pleading yet determined. You hate how convincing he can be when he’s like this. How he makes you question your own resolve. “Please,” he adds, his voice dropping. “Just for a little while.”

The conviction in his voice is startling, and it makes something inside you waver. You’re tired, too tired to keep arguing, too tired to keep carrying everything on your shoulders. It’s true, you’re feeling yourself pushback on him. He deserves this—time with Koji, protecting him, and more. It’s just so hard breaking from the fragile bubble you built for your son and you. Satoru’s presence is like a sharp knife, waiting to just poke through it with ease, to get to his family.“Fine,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “But just for tonight. Koji and I will come to your place for tonight.”

Relief washes over his features, but he doesn’t smile. He nods, stepping back to give you space. “That’s all I’m asking.”

As you turn away to gather what you need for the night, you catch a glimpse of Koji peeking out from his room, his eyes wide with curiosity. You put on a smile for his sake, but deep down, you can’t shake the unease settling in your chest. This isn’t just about staying at Satoru’s place. It’s about what this means—what it could mean—and the part of you that still isn’t sure you’re ready to face it.

The inside of Satoru’s Mercedes is spacious, but asphyxiating. Koji in his car seat in the back, watching something on his tablet. This is the first time you’ve been in the car with Satoru since way long ago. It’s nostalgia, but sickening at the same time. You remember how he would place his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly. Or how he likes to rest his hand on the gearstick, or his elbow on the middle console. 

Your skin prickles with goosebumps when he brushes against your arm as he reaches for the temperature controls, adjusting the heat. It’s a small, thoughtless gesture, but it sends an involuntary jolt through you. You glance out the window, pretending to admire the blurred city lights instead of acknowledging the memories flooding back. The hum of the car engine fills the silence, an uncomfortable contrast to the weight of everything left unsaid. Koji giggles at something on his tablet in the backseat, his innocence a stark reminder of why you’re here and why you can’t let your emotions take over.

“You okay?” Satoru’s voice breaks the quiet, calm yet cautious.

“Fine,” you reply quickly, too quickly. You keep your eyes glued to the window, your arms crossed as if to shield yourself from the proximity.

He stops at a red light, leaning back in his sight. He’s a pro at side-eyeing you as you’re faced away. Seeing the way your hands ball into small fists. Nervous. Your foot is tapping on the floor. Thinking. And if he looks closer at your chest, he’ll notice how it’s rising up and down a little more quickly than normal. 

Oh. 

He clears his throat, looking forward as the light turns green. Focus on driving, focus on driving. He doesn’t push, but you can feel his gaze flickering toward you now and then, like he’s reading every shift in your posture, every flicker of hesitation. It’s infuriating how well he knows you, even now. You glance at Koji briefly before turning your gaze back to the window, watching the city lights blur into streaks as the car moves. The nostalgia you felt earlier morphs into a bitter taste in your mouth. You hate how easily Satoru slips into the role of a doting father, as if the years of his absence never happened.

You need to get a better hold of your jealousy. 

“You’re quiet,” Satoru says, breaking the silence.

“Just tired,” you reply curtly, not bothering to look at him.

He hums, his fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel. “Long day, huh?”

You roll your eyes. “You could say that.”

His gaze flicks to you briefly before returning to the road. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. But I’m glad you’re coming with me. It’s the right thing to do.”

You let out a dry laugh, finally turning to face him. “The right thing to do? Since when have you ever cared about the right thing, Satoru?”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t respond. Then he exhales deeply, gripping the wheel a little tighter. “I care now. Now that you’ve granted me that option,” he says quietly.

You want to scoff, to throw his words back at him, but there’s something in his tone that makes you pause. Something raw, unguarded. The way he gets out those snark remarks angers you, but only further solidifies the weight of your actions, and the fact that things will never be the same. 

The rest of the drive is spent in silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts. When the car finally pulls into the underground garage of his penthouse building, Koji’s excitement is palpable.

“Wow! This place is huge!” Koji exclaims, his eyes wide as he looks around.

Satoru chuckles, stepping out of the car and opening the back door to unbuckle Koji. “Wait till you see the view, buddy.”

You follow them, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. As you step into the elevator, you can’t help but feel like you’re being pulled back into a world you thought you’d left behind—one of complications and heartbreak. Satoru presses the button for his floor, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Relax, Y/N. It’s just for one night.”

You don’t respond, staring straight ahead as the elevator begins its ascent. But deep down, you know it’s never just one night with Satoru. 

“No running.”

“Sorry, Mama.”

You place Koji and your bags on one of the chairs in the kitchen, watching your son rush to his father’s living room. Satoru follows him, hands on his hips. “Hey buddy, bought some toys for you. Do you want to play with them? You like Spiderman, right?”

If possible, Koji’s eyes light up even more with excitement. Gasping and squealing, nodding his head furiously. “I love Spiderman! Mama threw me a Spiderman birthday last time.”

Satoru hums. “Wish I coulda seen that.”

You freeze at Satoru's words, your hand halfway to unpacking one of Koji’s bags. His tone is light, almost wistful, but it feels like a loaded statement—one that stings more than you’d like to admit. You glance over at him and Koji, your son practically bouncing on his toes as Satoru kneels to pull out a neatly wrapped box from a hidden cabinet. “Here you go,” Satoru says, handing it to Koji. “I think you’ll like what’s inside.”

Koji tears into the wrapping with glee, revealing a Spiderman action figure set. He gasps, clutching the box to his chest like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “Thank you, Papa! This is so cool!”

Your heart twists at how easily Koji has taken to calling him that. It’s like Satoru’s sudden presence is a gift he didn’t realize he’d been missing. And yet, for you, it’s a reminder of the years of absence—of the birthdays and milestones Satoru missed. “Please, don’t spoil him too much,” you mutter, finally unpacking Koji’s things and setting them on the counter.

Satoru looks over his shoulder, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “What’s wrong with a little spoiling? He deserves it.”

You exhale sharply, not bothering to mask your irritation. “What he deserves is consistency.”

His smirk falters, standing back up to his full height and coming over to you. Keeping his voice level calm, in case Koji decides to listen in. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head. 

Satoru narrows his eyes slightly, his expression unreadable as he watches you busy yourself with Koji’s things. “Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

You let out a humorless laugh, refusing to meet his gaze. “It’s exactly what it sounds like. Don’t read into it.”

His lips press into a thin line, but he doesn’t push further—not yet. Instead, he leans against the counter, folding his arms as he observes you. “Y/N, you can’t be the angry one in this situation. I thought you understood that.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Then what are you?”

“I’m just—” you let out a big breath, looking up at him once more. “I’m tired. Forgive me if I’m not overly happy right now.

Satoru’s gaze softens, his posture relaxing slightly, though the tension in the room lingers like a heavy fog. “I’m not trying to add onto that, I’m just trying to be here for my son.”

I know that. I don’t know why I’m snapping. All you can offer is a nod, reaching into your bag, and grabbing a change of clothes. “I…I’m gonna go shower, watch him please.”

Satoru nods, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before shifting to the living room where Koji is engrossed in his toys. “Of course. Take your time.”

You offer a small, tight-lipped smile before retreating down the hall, clutching the clothes in your hands like a lifeline. Once you’re inside the bathroom, the door clicks shut behind you, and the weight of everything crashes down. Leaning against the counter, you grip the edge tightly, your knuckles turning white as you take slow, measured breaths. The mirror reflects a version of yourself you hardly recognize—tired, frazzled, and barely holding it together. The faint hum of Koji’s laughter echoes down the hall, grounding you for a moment. At least he’s happy. That’s what matters.

The shower is a welcome escape. The hot water cascades over your skin, washing away the grime of the day and the lingering tension from your conversation with Satoru. You let your head fall forward, droplets sliding down your face, mingling with the tears you didn’t realize had started to fall. You didn’t mean to snap at him. He’s trying, you know that. But the past doesn’t let go so easily, and the overwhelming mix of emotions—anger, fear, hope—leaves you feeling unsteady. And you feel angry at yourself for letting your emotions slip through, getting the best of you. You’re surprised Satoru hasn’t been more outwardly rude to you, short, or even snappy. It seems like he’s taking this all better than you are, and once again, that bitter jealousy of yours is shining through. How he can just handle things so smoothly—at least that’s what it seems like. But he’s used to all this: the spotlight, public eye, attention. You just wish things could’ve been handled…differently. 

Everything feels like a domino effect, starting all with that dreaded day at the grocery store. How so much has changed. 

 By the time you step out, you feel a fraction lighter, though the knot in your chest remains. You towel off, change into your clean clothes, and take a moment to steel yourself before heading back into the fray.

When you return to the living room, you find Satoru sitting cross-legged on the floor with Koji, holding up a miniature Spiderman figure. Koji is giggling, animatedly explaining an intricate story about how Spiderman saves the day. Satoru glances up as you walk in, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Hey. We’re just working on a top-secret mission over here. No big deal.”

Koji looks up too, beaming. “Mama! Papa’s playing Spiderman with me! He’s really good at the voices.”

You can’t help the small smile that forms, even as your heart aches a little at the sight. “Sounds like you two are having fun.”

Satoru nods, his expression soft. “We’re a good team.”

You stand there for a moment, watching them, the weight of everything pressing down on your shoulders once more. Maybe this is what Koji needs. Maybe this is what you need. But trusting him again…that’s the hardest part.

That night, eating dinner at Satoru’s long dining table, the same one where you faced his parents, it all feels strange, to say the least. The clinking of cutlery against porcelain plates echoes faintly in the vast dining room, filling the silence between the three of you. Koji hums to himself as he picks at his plate, occasionally glancing at his father to tell him some small details about his day or ask about the toys he’d gotten earlier. Satoru engages him with ease, his tone light and playful, but you can see the flickers of something deeper behind his smiles—guilt, maybe, or a desperate need to make up for lost time.

And then there’s you, sitting stiffly at the other end of the table, your appetite wavering as your mind keeps drifting back to the last time you sat here. That memory is sharp and vivid, like an old wound that hasn’t quite healed.

But Koji’s laughter brings you back down to Earth. Looking up from your plate of food to the sight before you. Father and son, son and father, family. They look so alike, you don’t think you can ever get over the blatant resemblance. Satoru’s genes are just very strong. You wish Koji could’ve inherited a few more things from you. You place a hand on your lower stomach, as if a physical touch will make the strange abundance of butterflies flying around in there to go away. 

It’s strange, this setup. Domestic in a way you never thought you’d experience with him again. But it’s also…nice. 

It feels whole, like this is how things should be. Would’ve been had you not held your tongue for so long. And you’re starting to think to yourself how much you like this sight. How it’s making you feel at home.

But this isn’t your home. However, you think you can pretend for just one night. 

“You’re not eating much,” Satoru says, pulling you out of your thoughts. His voice is casual, but there’s an undertone of concern.

Your eyes widen at him, realizing you’ve been caught staring and quickly looking back down. “I’m fine,” you say, forcing a small smile. “Just sleepy, I guess.”

“I bet,” he says, and while his tone is conversational, his gaze lingers on you, searching for something beneath your calm facade.

“Yeah,” you reply shortly, stabbing at a piece of vegetable on your plate. You don’t want to talk about your day or your worries or the mounting anxiety sitting heavy in your chest. Not here, not now.

Koji interrupts before Satoru can press further, his voice bright and full of excitement. “Papa, can we watch a movie after dinner? Mama too!”

Satoru grins, lightly pinching his cheekbone. “Of course, buddy. What movie are we watching?”

Koji claps his hands together, listing off a couple of titles before settling on one of his favorites. You manage another smile, this one a little more genuine, as you watch the way Satoru effortlessly makes Koji light up. For a moment, the tension eases, and you let yourself focus on Koji’s joy. Maybe this is enough for now. Maybe that’s all you need to get through the evening.

But as you glance at Satoru across the table, his eyes catching yours for a brief second, you’re reminded of how fragile this truce feels. Of how much history lies between you, threatening to resurface at any moment.

Koji picks Spiderman, of course. You’ve watched this movie at least a hundred times now, maybe more. You can practically recite the lines perfectly. The movie plays on, the familiar dialogue flowing like background noise to your swirling thoughts. You’ve seen this scene so many times—the hero’s triumphant swing through the city, the bad guy’s dramatic monologue, the moments of comic relief Koji always laughs at—but tonight, it feels different. There’s an added layer of tension sitting heavy between you and Satoru.

The living room feels unusually cozy, the dimmed lighting casting a warm glow over the space. Koji wiggles in his spot, clutching a Spiderman plush as he stares at the screen with unblinking eyes, thoroughly engrossed. You, on the other hand, are trying not to let your exhaustion bubble over. Koji sits between you two, Satoru’s arm over his little shoulders. Satoru’s arm rests casually behind Koji, but every so often, as he adjusts his position, his fingers graze your shoulder—a light, fleeting touch that feels far too deliberate to be accidental. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, but he seems entirely focused on the movie, his face relaxed, a small smirk tugging at his lips during one of Koji’s excited reactions. So, you ignore it. But you do shift slightly, creating just enough distance to break the contact. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

Koji laughs out loud at a particularly funny scene, leaning against Satoru’s side. “That’s so cool, Papa! I wanna do that someday!”

Satoru chuckles, ruffling Koji’s hair. “Maybe we’ll get you a Spiderman costume, and you can be the hero of the city.”

Koji beams at him, his excitement is contagious. For a brief moment, you allow yourself to appreciate this dynamic, the way Satoru fits so naturally into Koji’s world. You hate to admit it, but this is what Koji’s been missing—what you’ve been missing, too, in some small, buried way. Satoru’s hand once again brushes your shoulder during his next adjustment, that buried part of you is quickly overshadowed by the reminder of why this dynamic fell apart in the first place.

Luckily, Koji is already showered and dressed for bed in his matching red set. So as the movie progresses, nearing its end, so does his sleepiness. You along with him. Koji’s head begins to droop as the credits start to roll, his little body leaning further into Satoru’s side. His eyelids flutter with each blink, his earlier excitement now replaced by the slow pull of sleep. Satoru’s about to make a remark, before looking over at you and seeing your body slumped over on the other side. 

The scene feels peaceful in a way he hadn’t anticipated—a rare moment of quiet amidst the chaos that’s been your guys’ lives lately. Koji’s soft breathing grows steadier, his small body completely leaning into Satoru’s side now, one hand clutching his Spiderman plush while the other hangs limply at his side. Satoru glances down at his son with a faint smile, brushing Koji’s hair out of his face with a tenderness that makes his chest ache. He looks over to you next, ready your head resting on your hand. Your expression is soft, lips parted slightly as you drift into the kind of sleep that only exhaustion can bring. Satoru looks at the clock; 9:00pm.

For a moment, he just watches you both. Koji, who looks so much like him it’s almost uncanny, and you, the woman who’s somehow always managed to throw him off balance without even trying. He sighs softly, shaking his head at the scene before him. For a split second, he feels a shadow—a ghost from the past appears beside Koji. A baby girl who would’ve been seven by now.The baby girl who never got the chance to grow up. In that fleeting, haunting moment, he imagines her sitting there too, nestled beside her brother, giggling at Spiderman’s antics. He can imagine her features. She would’ve looked so much like you, it’s painful.

His chest tightens, and he has to look away, focusing on a random corner of the room as he fights to steady his breathing. It’s not fair—to her, to Koji, or to you. And yet, here he is, caught in the what-ifs and the might-have-beens, unable to let go of a past that feels like it happened both a lifetime ago and just yesterday. The glimpse is gone as soon as it comes, to which he’s thankful for because he is not crying right now. With a small grunt, he stands up and carefully moves Koji into his arms. Adjusting the boy and making sure he’s not waking up, he walks him over to the spare bedroom.

Satoru moves quietly, his footsteps soft against the floor as he cradles Koji in his arms. The boy’s head rests comfortably on his shoulder, his small body relaxed and completely unaware of the careful handling. The weight of his son in his arms, the warmth of Koji’s tiny form, is a stark reminder of everything he’s been missing. He pushes the door to the spare bedroom open gently, trying not to disturb the silence of the house. The moonlight filters through the curtains, casting a calm glow across the room. Satoru places Koji carefully on the bed, tucking him in with the same gentle movements he’s always used. He watches for a moment as the boy shifts slightly, a soft sigh escaping his lips before settling back into a peaceful sleep.

For a second, Satoru just stands there, hands lingering at Koji’s side as if unsure of when to leave. It’s as if the past week—no, the past years—are catching up to him in this very moment. He never thought he'd be here, standing in a room like this, watching his son sleep under a roof that used to feel so distant. His chest tightens, but he refuses to let himself feel the weight of it. Not yet. Not with Koji so close. With one last look, he slowly pulls away, stepping back into the hallway and quietly closing the door behind him. The house feels colder as he moves through it, but this time, it’s not because of the empty spaces or the lingering tension. It’s because, for the first time in years, he’s truly trying to figure out where he fits in all of this.

And it’s a lot harder than he ever expected.

He walks back to the living room, your body now completely lying on your side. His lips purse as he stands before you, unsure if he should wake you or move you himself. Would that be okay? Is he crossing some boundary of yours if he touches you fully and intentionally?

Satoru stands there for a moment, studying you as you sleep. The soft rise and fall of your chest, the way your body curls slightly into the pillow, creates a sense of peace in the room, but also a sense of tension in him. The pull to reach out, to make sure you’re comfortable, is strong. But he hesitates, his mind racing with thoughts about boundaries, and the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable, especially when everything already feels so fragile between the two of you. He watches for a few more seconds, the quiet of the room making everything feel so... still. He doesn’t know how he got here, standing in the middle of the room, feeling so torn. Part of him wants to just go ahead and make sure you’re properly tucked in, like he did with Koji. But that other part of him continues to wonderf if that’s overstepping, if his presence, even now, feels intrusive. Satoru exhales slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. Finally, he decides to attempt to recreate his actions for Koji; it’s the least he can do.

He bends his knees slightly, hands reaching out. But just as his fingertips graze your bare arms, you’re jolting up and awake. Head swiveling around, eyes barely open and bleary. “What’s happening? Where’s Koji?”

Satoru freezes, his fingers hovering in the air as your voice cuts through the stillness. His eyes flick to you, wide and disoriented from the abruptness of your awakening. "Y/N?" He murmurs, his voice low and hesitant, almost as if he's unsure whether you’re fully awake. "Koji’s in the other room, he’s asleep."

You sit up, rubbing your eyes, still trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Your thoughts are jumbled, disoriented from the deep slumber you’d just woken from. “I— I didn’t hear him... when did he go to bed?”

Satoru, still crouched by your bedside, lets out a soft sigh, his expression softening. "I put him down a few minutes ago. He was out before the movie ended." He pauses for a second, watching you carefully, his hand still lingering awkwardly in the air as if unsure whether to touch you or not. "You were really tired, so I thought I'd handle it."

You blink, the fog in your mind barely beginning to clear. Slowly, you nod, still trying to process everything in the haze of your exhaustion. “Thank you.” The words come out quieter than you expect, but there’s something in your voice that surprises both of you.

Satoru’s gaze lingers for a moment, a mix of concern and relief flashing in his eyes. He stands up, backing away from the bed slowly. “I didn’t want to wake you,” he says softly, hands running through his hair as he takes a step toward the door. “But you should go to bed. You can sleep with Koji or um—in my bed if you want.”

You stare at his figure, the weight of the situation still pressing down on you. There’s so much 

happening, so much you didn’t expect, and yet… for some reason, having him here, like this, almost feels normal. You rub your temples, trying to stave off the headache forming. 

“I’ll sleep out here, of course,” he quickly adds on, realizing the small, but accidental hinting.

You raise an eyebrow at his quick backpedaling, a small, almost reluctant smile tugging at the corner of your lips. It's been a long time since you shared any sort of space with him—especially under these circumstances. But the way he’s stumbling over his words, trying so hard to make things comfortable, it makes you wonder if maybe he’s not as composed as he likes to act. “Thanks,” you murmur, rubbing your temples again. The migraine's intensity is growing, and it's all you can do to keep your emotions in check. You hadn’t expected this—any of it. Satoru’s presence here, offering you comfort in his own odd way, only complicates everything more. You never asked for this kind of help, but you can't deny the relief it brings. “I’ll sleep with Koji.”

Satoru’s eyes linger on you for a moment longer, his expression softening as if he’s weighing his words carefully, trying not to overstep. He knows you’re not the type to ask for help. Hell, you hardly ever accept it when it’s offered. But tonight is different. Tonight is full of a thousand unspoken things. The lingering tension, the awkwardness of it all, and the confusing emotions between you two. It’s all too much, too quickly, and yet you feel the pull of something familiar—a bond you haven’t felt in years. “You sure?” he asks, his voice low. Almost like he’s waiting for you to give him some kind of permission or reassurance, something that lets him know you’re okay. His presence, his concern for Koji, it’s all so overwhelming in its own way.

You hesitate, swallowing the lump in your throat, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens just having him this close, even if it is just in the same house. “I’ll be fine,” you say, your voice a little softer than you intended. The last thing you want to do is drag him back into your life fully. But he’s already here, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you're too tired to argue. "You don’t have to stay out here." The words hang in the air for a beat.

You take this moment to rise from the couch, wiping your eyes once more. “Where is he?”

“Spare room,” he points.

You nod, more to yourself than to him, and retreat to the spare room. The migraine pounds in the background of your mind. Mind still riddled with sleep, you accidentally bump your shoulder into the wall, footsteps faltering. He moves faster than you anticipated—expected, his hands finally making contact with your upper arms; stablizing you. His touch itself feels reminiscent.

His grip on your arms is steady, firm—just like it used to be. You catch your breath for a moment, not expecting the familiarity of his touch to feel so grounding. For a split second, you’re taken back to moments from the past, the memories of simpler days when his touch brought comfort instead of tension. You want to pull away, to remind yourself that things aren’t the same anymore. But you’re too tired, too worn out, and for a moment, you let yourself lean into the stability he’s offering without question.

"Careful," Satoru’s voice is quiet, but there's a soft edge to it, like he’s genuinely concerned. His hands stay on your arms, not pulling away immediately, as if waiting for you to give him a signal that you’re okay.

You blink, the haze of sleep making everything feel just a little more surreal. "I’m fine," you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper, but it lacks conviction. Your body feels heavier than it should, and your mind seems to be swimming in fog.

He doesn’t let go right away. Instead, his fingers give a slight squeeze, a small, unspoken reassurance. "You sure? You look like you’re about to fall over."

"I’m just... tired," you say, the words slipping from your lips before you even realize. You wince internally, but it’s too late to take them back now. There’s no point.

Satoru nods, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the hallway, but the way his eyes linger on you makes something in your chest tighten. It’s like he’s still trying to figure you out, still trying to read you after all these years. He always was good at that. Without saying much more, he gently guides you to the door of the spare room, a hand hovering above the small of your back; his touch still light but firm. He’s not pushing you, just there, a quiet presence in the storm. "Get some rest. I’ll be nearby, just in case."

You nod, feeling a strange mixture of gratitude and frustration well up inside you. "Thanks," you murmur, finally able to pull away from his grip and step into the room.

Before you close the door, you glance over at him, standing there in the hallway, his figure outlined by the soft glow from the living room. "Good night," you add, your voice a little softer than you meant it to be.

He doesn’t respond immediately, but there’s a flicker in his eyes that you can’t quite place. After a beat, he says quietly, "Good night, Y/N."

And then, with one last look, he walks away, leaving you alone in the quiet darkness of the room. The door clicks softly behind you, and for the first time in days, you feel a small sense of peace—fragile, uncertain, but there all the same.

Satoru has taken the liberty of getting Koji dressed and ready for school. Shushing his son with quiet murmurs so you won’t wake up. He’s a little surprised, but you must be that tired. Satoru usually wakes up earlier than most, having went to go check on you two, but getting shocked to see his son using the bathroom instead and saying something about how “Mama’s still sleeping, I have school.”

He’s a smart kid—a very smart kid. He guided Satoru the entire ride, remembering the name of his school and which streets to use. You raised him well. He parks his car in the lot, it stands out like a sore thumb among the civics, corollas, and trucks.

Carrying Koji in his arms towards the boys classroom. “Excited, buddy?”

“Mhm!” 

Satoru smiles and kisses his cheek. “I’ll pick you up, okay?”

“Okay, Papa. Thank you.” Koji gratefully responds.

“No need to thank me, Koji. It’s my job.”

Satoru can feel the lingering stares and hushed whispers as he walks down the hallway to his son’s class. Ignoring it like a pro and focusing on one thing and one thing only. As they approach his room, Mr. Ito is standing outside like usual. As soon as the man sees the two, his eyes visibly widen before playing it off with a cough of his throat. “Good morning, Koji. Gojo.”

Satoru remembers the guy as the one from the cafe. That one. He nods in understanding, setting Koji down and crouching with him. “Have a fun day, I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Papa.” Koji kisses his cheek and rushes inside happily. 

 "Morning," Satoru replies coolly, standing tall as he watches Koji run off to join his classmates. "I trust Koji’s been good?"

"Of course, of course," Mr. Ito replies quickly, his smile tight, the words coming out a little too fast. "He’s been a delight to have here. Very bright."

Satoru nods, but his eyes never leave Mr. Ito’s. "Glad to hear it."

There’s an awkward silence that stretches between them, but Satoru isn’t in the mood for small talk. He could read the teacher’s discomfort, and he’s not about to play into it. After all, it’s not like they’re friends, or even acquaintances. Mr. Ito shifts on his feet, and Satoru can tell he’s trying to think of something to say, something that will smooth over whatever awkwardness hangs in the air. “So, where’s Ms. Y/N today?”

Satoru’s brows tick, arms crossing. “At home.”

Mr. Ito nods, clearly trying to gauge whether there’s more to the story, but Satoru doesn’t give him any openings. He’s not in the mood to entertain questions about you, not now, not here, especially not from someone like him. "Ah, I see," Mr. Ito mumbles, his voice trailing off as he shuffles his feet again. "I just thought... well, with everything that’s been going on, I expected to see her here, too."

Satoru’s eyes narrow, though his expression remains calm, just a hint of warning in his tone. "She’s handling things on her own. We’re both doing fine. You don’t need to worry about it. You have a class full of children to teach."

The other man hides his displeasure behind a stiff nod. “Right, right. Just wondering, that’s all.”

“Don’t have to, she already has a man for that.”

Satoru wonders why he’s being do damn weird right now. Possesive almost. You two aren’t together, but the way this guy is asking about you, it’s slightly setting him off. Who does he think he is worrying about you?

Mr. Ito falters, his smile fading as Satoru’s words hang heavy in the air. "Right, of course," he mumbles, clearly taken aback. He shifts on his feet, his eyes darting to the ground before locking back onto Satoru. "Just asking, I mean… it's just a lot going on, you know?"

Satoru’s gaze hardens, the protective instinct that rises within him catching him off guard. He takes a slight step closer to Mr. Ito, his tone deliberately neutral but carrying an edge. "You don’t need to worry about her. She’s got it covered."

There’s a flicker of something in Mr. Ito’s eyes—something that hints he’s about to say something else, but he swallows it down, nodding stiffly instead. "Yeah, of course." He quickly looks away, clearing his throat. "Well, I guess I’ll… I’ll get back to the class."

Satoru stands still for a moment, his posture rigid, a sharp edge in his expression as he watches Mr. Ito retreat. He doesn't know why it bothered him so much. The guy wasn’t even doing anything wrong, not really. But the way he was asking about you—like he had any right to—made something inside Satoru twist uncomfortably. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this man didn’t belong in your world, that he had no place prying into your life.

Satoru finally exhales, shaking his head. Whatever. It was just a teacher.

With one last glance at the classroom door, he turns and heads back to the school doors. There's no reason to overthink this. It’s just… odd. He can’t let it get to him.

You wake up that day to a lone bed. Groaning to yourself as the sunbeams spray across your face and momentarily blind you. Hand reaching out for the space next to you. Instead, you see a note saying: dropped koji off, i’ll be back around noon to grab some lunch. sleep up

Instantly, your eyes widen, springing up out of bed. Reaching for your phone, the time reads 11:30pm. “Shit!” you curse to yourself, rushing out the door and to your bag still on the chair from last night. You dig in for your work clothes, changing right there and then and praying to the gods that Satoru doesn’t walk through this door. Brushing your teeth, hair, washing your face, putting some moustirzer and sunscreen on, all of it takes way too long. By the time you’re done and messily putting your shoes on, it’s twelve. Four hours after you were supposed to be at work. Hana’s going to kill me.

Grabbing your bag with rough and rushed movements, you’re sprinting to the door at this point. Out of breath and already conjuring up a sorry apology for Hana. you reach the doorhandle, flinging it open. But as soon as you do, you come to an abrupt stop.

Because standing before you is a woman, a woman you’ve seen before on Satoru’s lock screen. The same woman who kissed the lips that you used to. Arms crossed and a nasty scowl forming on her face as she eyes you up and down in a criticizing way. 

Finally, she scoffs out. 

“Do you know who I am?”

a/n: they so cute

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[persephoneflouwers]

-

[pynkfairyheart]

Hii I was wondering if you could do an collage au armin arlert oneshot, imagine or Drabble (totally up to you) where armin is a very popular soccer player at the college and since he’s so popular that causes him not have as much time for his gf so she catches an attitude and ignores him and he fixes it ifykyk. I was thinking more of like a dominant or switch armin for this yk?

pairings: soccer!player Armin x black reader

warnings: smut 18+, a lil angsty, orgasm denial, car sex

a/n: i love this request, armin is just so ૮꒰ྀི˶˃ ⌓ ˂˶꒱ྀིა

Ms. Attitude

“I’m sorry, baby. I promise I’ll make it up later. I love you, bye” The monotone beep of the phone soon followed his hurried voice informing you he ended the call before you could even breathe.

“Yep, I love you too” You mumbled. Glossy eyes scanning the hair and makeup you spent hours on.

This was the second time Armin failed to show up for your date.

Soccer season was picking up and with Armin being the captain you understood you'd no longer be able to spend as much time due to practice, but the frequent outings with his team members were becoming infuriating.

Was it that hard for him to plan around your date nights?

With a deep breath, you soaked a cotton pad in makeup remover. Too exhausted to even take pictures before the excess liquid on the pad mixed with your stray tears. It was rare for you to cry over a guy, even rarer to cry over Armin, but the disappointment was turning into frustration that was too overbearing to contain.

What made things worse is that you felt it wasn't fair to Armin you were having these feelings.

You knew what you were entering into when you said yes to being his girlfriend. He told you his goals from the start; become captain, graduate with a 4.0, play professionally, and ultimately make it to the World Cup.

Of course, you knew achieving all he wanted would take time, and you wholeheartedly supported him.

To maintain a healthy relationship you two had a system. Once a week, you would set aside time for a date. It didn't need to be elaborate or fancy; the simple goal was for you to spend time alone. Everything was perfect. Until it wasn’t.

Something Armin didn’t take into account with the new season was the influx of freshmen on the team. This meant lots of bonding time with the team and less time with you.

°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It was a week before you saw Armin. Granted it wasn't on purpose and you just happened to catch a glimpse of him from across the crowded room, but you saw him nonetheless.

The events on how you approached him are a little cloudy, your actions encouraged by the shots you took and your anger. The only true remembrance was Sasha’s attempt to make you stay and the snickers from certain teammates who could predict what was about to happen.

“What the actual fuck, Armin.” You huffed

“Baby? What’s wrong?” His smile disappearing at the pout settled onto your face

You were baffled, was he actually serious?

“What’s wrong is that I haven't seen you in three weeks all because of your little bonding outings. Which this does not seem like bonding” A mixture of frustration and hurt fueling your emotions as you motioned to the party

“I know how this looks, baby but I swear we just got caught up after practice, sit with us I promise to make it up to you- Did you just roll your eyes at me?” Nothing pissed Armin off more than when you rolled your eyes at him.

“Yes! You've said the same thing every week Armin, you're like a fucking broken record and it's actually pissing me off”

“I'm pissing you off?” The indifferent tone of his voice and minuscule smirk on his face should have told you to stop and think but you were just too upset to think.

“Isn't that what I just said” Your iris slightly disappearing as you rolled your eyes once again.

He’d been waiting for it.

Many people knew Armin to be the passionate sweetheart he was. It was rare to see him upset. That emotion reserved for whenever his team got a foul and occasionally whenever you gave him attitude.

Before you could even register what he was doing he grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the party

That little eye roll ended up with you in the backseat of his car, legs on his shoulder as he drilled into you.

“Minniee, pleaseee” You whined, tears threatening to spill from your eyes at the pleasure building in your lower stomach

“You wanted my attention right? So stop fucking complaining and hold it like I said” His hips snapping forward as he buried himself deep inside you with every thrust.

You were certain stars were blurring your vision. He was just stretching you out so well, the girth and the angle he was at leaving no spot along your walls untouched with how deep he was.

Just looking and hearing the whines that slipped passed your lips made him want to fuck orgasm after orgasm out of you.

Just looking at you had him on the brink of a second orgasm.

You just looked so pretty to him. Bouncing breasts no longer confined by the tight shirt you wore, hardened nipples glossy from his previous sucking. Don't even get him started with your teary eyes and glossy lips.

What really got him though was the way your puffy cunt surrounded him. Folds so warm and wet with your slick and his cum that your walls failed to contain.

Armin however didn’t reward bad behavior, especially yours. Maybe he’d let you cum if you whined enough, but who knows. For now, he’d continue to use you for his own pleasure as he pounded into you.

“What's wrong princess? Isn't this what you wanted? Caught an attitude just to get fucked like a slut” He hissed, blonde strands sticking to his forehead as he increased his pace.

“I’m sorry, Minnie, please. I just missed you” You spoke through your broken moans and cries

Leaning down he encaptured your lips, his pace slowing as the guilt seeped into him, oh how he wanted nothing but to go back and spend that time with you.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll make time for us, I mean it this time” His voice coming out in a whisper as he kissed along your neck

“Y-yeah? “ Speech broken by the newfound pleasure as he applied pressure to your clit

“Mhm, as long as you stop with that fucking attitude” Within that second the soft and caring Armin was gone and now replaced with the Armin whose only goal was to make you feel pleasure

You were so close, every rock of his hips hitting your spot so perfectly you were seeing stars and begging to cum but he kept denying you over and over. His responses consisting of “Be my good girl and hold it” or “You want it so badly don’t you?” a condescending pout resting on his pink lips every time

It was only when he grabbed your ankles and pushed your legs up against your chest that he allowed you to cum, pace becoming sloppy as he watched you cream around him, basking in the way every contraction of your cunt added to the milky ring around his base.

The feeling of you clenching around him, the sight of your closed eyes and slightly agape mouth as you came, it was too much for him to handle as spurts of his milky cum forced its way into your stuffed cunt.

“That's my girl” He mumbled. Smirking at the cum spilling from your hole the moment he pulled out

It was only when you felt his hands spreading your legs apart and his tongue plunging into you that you opened your eyes.

“Armin” You shrieked

“Mmm, relax, baby. I've got three weeks' worth of orgasms to get from you.”

[bailaconox]

damn i rly didnt think anyone would reach out which was probably silly of me to think. kind of sad kind of want to keep the tickets but if im able to find someone who REALLY needs this... it wont be as hard to let go of

[jenoslutie]

F o r C e r t a i n I k.mg

pairing: fwb!mingyu x fem!reader

warnings: sex in a club bathroom, semi public sex, unprotected sex, reader and mingyu have a teeny bit of alcohol in their systems, creampie, switchy!mingyu, switchy!reader though there isnt much implications of power dynamics theyre just horny. also, a littleeeee bit of reader x seungcheol because yeah.

a/n: forrrr...... the lovely @seokgyuu !!! surprise mitchie!!! i was your secret cupid!! :D i hope you enjoy this little sumsum. sorry this is late, ive been insanely busy BUT im done finally. this is heavily inspired by f o r c e r t a i n by partynextdoor!!!! (you should give it a listen while reading :D !!!!) also, thank you @ddeonghwa-s for hosting this wonderful collab hehe!!! this was so fun and cute.

“Mingyu!” You called out, suddenly catching a glimpse of him in the crowd. The music was far too loud for him to hear you though. Your attempt, though, fell on deaf ears, Mingyu still had his back turned to you, downing a shot alongside Soonyoung. Pushing through the crowd, you finally reached Mingyu.

“Mingyu!” He turned around when he felt you tap him. His smile was big at the sight of you,“You made it!” Engulfing you in a big Mingyu hug, it was one of his best qualities, the huge bear hugs he gives.

Just then, you feel a presence behind you, “Y/N?” You turned around and there was none other than Choi Seungcheol, you watched him give you a once over before meeting your eyes “You look fucking amazing tonight.”

“Cheol!” Seungcheol hugged you before dragging you away from Mingyu and your other friends, not that you were complaining though. Seungcheol was hot, one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen. His big, warm body pressing up against yours while you danced together was not how you expected tonight to go but, here you were and you were having the time of your life.

You were so engrossed in Seungcheol that you didn't notice Mingyu glaring at the both of you from across the room. He hated seeing you with another guy, especially if it was Seungcheol, his best friend.

You were sick. Sick of all the women that you watched all the women flirt back and forth with Mingyu tonight. You knew he looked good tonight, he always does. But something was different in the air today, everyone was all over your man. Well…he just didn't know he was your man yet. It's not like the two of you were dating but everyone can tell that there is something going on between the two of you.

Most people.

You watched each and every girl come up to him, make a move on Mingyu and him happily flirting back. Does no one notice you practically latched to his side? Did no one see you two walk in together? Did no one see the way you danced with him? On the dance floor, Mingyu kept you pressed to his front, the two of you grinding on each other

"Why are you so quiet?" Mingyu raised his eyebrow at you. You shrugged and looked away, ignoring his question. As glad as you were that he noticed your change in attitude, you can't cave in that easily. He tried to get you to tell him what was wrong but no matter how many times he asked, you continued to ignore him.

You almost thought you lost his attention when you watched another girl walk up to him and offer to buy him a shot, to which he happily accepted. You watched as she made small talk with Mingyu while the Bartender got the shot ready. Scowling at the sight of Mingyu entertaining the girl was enough to have you giving up on even trying to care about what was happening in front of you. It was safe to say you were royally pissed off. Until, you felt Mingyu’s soft hand on your cheek.

He turned your head to the side, facing him again. He had the shot infront of him and a wedge of lime in his free hand. You were taken aback when he set the lime in between your lips before downing the shot. You were about to take the lime out, completely uninterested and unfazed by the bitter sour flavour when he leaned down and sucked the lime off your lips.

Oh…

Oh.

The girl, taken aback, left the scene before you even got a proper look at her. Mingyu gave you that stupid smile of his he always does. The sweet, bright smile he always does makes you feel like you're the only girl for him. And in the moment, it felt as if you really were the only girl for him.

“Stop frowning, you know I only want you.” His lips lowered to yours again, engulfing you into a passionate kiss that had you gripping onto him for dear life. “Mingy-” You were cut off by a groan from Mingyu, “I think I need you,”

You pull away, pouting up at him playfully, “You think?”

“Baby, you and I both know how bad I need you.” You made a sound of disapproval, “I’m not too sure about that, why don't you show me instead?”

Without saying much more, Mingyu grabbed your hand, leading you to the bathroom in the far back of the club. “I need to be in you like now.”

And before you knew it, you were pressed against the bathroom door, your lips on Mingyu’s as he rushes to get your little dress off you. Mingyu’s hands trailed over your soft skin; feeling up on every inch of your bare skin. Every kiss of his lips, every drag of his tongue, every touch of his hands had you falling deeper and deeper into a trance. He relished in the moans you let out, becoming more and more eager to please. You press a hand to his chest, pushing him back a little. “I’m gonna suck you off.” As confident as you wanted to sound, your voice betrayed you, coming out as more of a whimper than anything. Mingyu didn’t complain in the slightest, letting you fall to your knees and tug his pants down.

“You’re always so good with your mouth, aren’t you?” Mingyu cooed, watching as you pulled his underwear down to his ankles before placing a big, opened mouthed kiss to his tip. “Yeah? How good?”

“Mingyu~” You groaned out when he pulled the cups of your bra down, latching onto one of your nipples. “Please Gyu, I need you.” Mingyu hummed, pulling away from your nipple with a ‘pop’.

“Fuck, bend over for me baby.” His voice was strained when he asked but you listened still, you slid your panties down, stepping out of them and discarding them somewhere in the little bathroom before bending down onto the counter. Mingyu lined himself up with your cunt, letting out a loud moan from behind you, the feeling of your arousal dripping all over his tip. “You get this wet from just a little teasing?” He chuckled.

“You’re gonna take my cock like a good little slut, yeah?” A swift smack to your ass with one hand gets you moving. You slowly push back onto him, taking more and more of his cock in you with each movement.

Mingyu hummed once he was fully buried inside you. You began to bounce on his cock and you could see all thoughts leave Mingyu’s mind. The both of you knew he loved seeing you like this, desperate and putting in the work to reach your high. The alcohol combined with the pleasure you were giving him made him more sensitive than usual but he was not gonna let you do all the work. “Fuck–stop–stop moving, please.” You tense up immediately, coming to a halt.

“Baby, are you okay?” Your voice was soft yet hoarse from the moans you were letting out. “I-I'm okay! Just let me do it, watching you is so hot I was about to cum already.” He had the audacity to sound sheepish while he said it, but either way, you agreed and let him take control back.

“Aren’t you such a good girl?” He muses, hiking your leg up on the sink so he could reach deeper inside you. Mingyu mumbled a small “good girl” under his breath before pushing into you once again. You moaned loud, feeling his cock filling you up to the brim. He trailed a hand to your front to rub your clit and you moan out when he wraps his other hand around you to grope your breast and tweak your nipple between his fingers.

“You wanna make me yours so bad don't you? Hate seeing all these girls on what’s yours?” Mingyu’s breath was right on your ear, sending shivers down your spine. God, this man was so fucking hot. “Yes,” You nodded, “Hate seeing them near you, you’re only mine.”

“Yeah?” Mingyu’s cock twitch inside you, his thrusts growing erratic a clear indication that he’s right on edge “You’re mine too baby, hate seeing other guys all over you, especially that fucker Seungcheol.” Mingyu sounded beyond fucked out, keeping your hips pressed against him, tight.

“Make me your slut daddy,” You begged, trying to meet Mingyu’s thrusts but he tightened his grip on your waist, holding you in place and fucking you harder. “What a little slut,” Mingyu chided with a broken moan. “Tell me how much you enjoy this, hm? Tell me how much you like how I fuck you.”

“F-fuck Gyu, like it so much, love how you fuck me” You could barely hold yourself up at this point, relying solely on Mingyu to hold you up. “I need to cum, Gyu– I’m so close.”

“Cum for me baby,” He groaned, feeling you get impossibly tighter around him, your walls spasming as you came around him. He helped you ride out your orgasm, fucking you through it while you wailed pathetically, begging for him to cum in you. “Please cum Gyu, please fill me up. I need to feel your cum inside me, I want it so much.” It only takes a few more thrusts for him to tighten his hands around your hips and press you firmly against him, burying himself deep inside your cunt and releasing his hot load inside you. Thick spurts of cum fill you up as he moans your name like he had no shame whatsoever, like you're the only people around. Mingyu fucks his cum deeper inside you. His grip on your hips loosened and you fell forward on the counter, barely keeping yourself up anymore.

“Fuck Gyu, you fuck so hard when youre possessive like that.” You uttered between laboured breaths and he let out a breathy chuckle. “And you get so turned on when I’m like that. So I guess it's a win-win huh?”

“Hm..sure.” You cheekily replied.

Mingyu chose just then to pull out, making you whine at the feeling. Staying in that position while Mingyu fixed his own clothes before your own, pulling your bra back into its position and finding your panties, placed right next to your feet, and pulling them up before doing the same with your dress.

“We look like a mess.” You huffed, attempting to fix yourself up in the mirror but Mingyu scoffed, “I’d say I look like a mess, you still look as beautiful as ever baby.” Pulling you against him and pressing a small kiss to your lips. “You’re acting a little too much like a boyfriend right now.” You mused, smiling up at him coyly.

“Yeah? He smirked, “Guess you’ll have to give me an upgrade to boyfriend status soon.”

“We’ll see…” You pretended to hesitate, giving him a disapproving look before turning on your heel, walking towards the bathroom door.

“You can take me home for a round two, by the way.” You playfully winked at him, unlocking the door and exiting the bathroom. And without hesitating, Mingyu followed right after you, calling an Uber for the both of you back to his place.

Bonus:

Days after the club incident and a while of non stop texting with Mingyu, you finally received the message from him that you’d been waiting for.

mingyu: you know. mingyu: i'm really expecting a boyfriend upgrade

you: yeah? why should you get that?

mingyu: let’s be real i cannot stand going out again without you being mine. mingyu: i think i’ll genuinely crash out if i see another man try to hit on you mingyu: and you know i’ve been dying to make you mine.

you: have you?

mingyu: dont ask me no stupid questions, you know damn well. you: well then, come over and make me yours gyu.

mingyu: bet, be there in 15, get ready for me baby.

[cherbii]

TOGETHER AGAIN | Ryomen Sukuna

summary -> who knew you’d see your long, lost lover in the midst of Shibuya

warnings -> language, violence, attempted murder, SMUT! p in v, creāmpie, fingering, multiple orgasms, rough sex, high key lovey dovey Sukuna. mdni

Shibuya, at night was cold, though it used to be years back before Shibuya was, well Shibuya. Now the city glowed and was warm from all the electronic billboards and screens plastered on every building, casting flickering hues of purple and blue on the dark tar of the roads.

You weren't supposed to be here, but hours prior, sitting in your chambers did your servant tell you what someone under the name of 'Mahito' planned to do-kill sorcerers.

You decided to join, or at the very least, be present. And you thought that being a special grade curse user would set of alarm bells, you surprisingly went undetected and not disturbed, except for the occasional push and shove, as you meandered your way through the large crowds of city goers, all dressed in tacky, Halloween costumes.

The crowds of Shibuya moved in herds, with an occasional gaggle of obnoxious teenagers that laughed loudly, taking up most of the pathway to leave barely any space for a single person to move. Still, you moved forward, eyes shifting from the large buildings, to the glowing billboards, to the groups of people walking around you.

After a long while, that had felt like forever with how slow you were being pushed forward, you finally reached Shibuya Crossing.

You had yet to find any sorcerer or curse user.

The crossing was alive with people, a wave of bodies moving in unison with the crosswalks, lights flickering, and cars honking their horns impatiently. The only thing you were doing was walking, but you felt like you were being squished between bodies, shoved left and right with loud apologies from strangers.

You didn't blame them either, since the crossing was incredibly busy, with many more joining the throngs of people every minute. You walked until you reached the subway station, it was still alive with movement. It didn't help that Shibuya was the busiest city in Japan, and one of the busiest cities in the world. So it didn't surprise you when the underground station was packed with people, going to wherever they needed to go.

You slowly made your way through them, your mind still on finding Mahito. You wondered if this was a waste of your time. You crossed cities to be here, and still, nothing. With a long sigh you found a bench, and sat on it.

There was a person sitting on it already, a man, no younger than 40, who was ridiculously dressed as a scarecrow. Upon noticing your arrival he sat up. "Hey, girl. What's a pretty thing like you doing in a subway. Should be out modelling."

You felt like you had the urge to slaughter the man, though you kept your composure. Just the way he addressed you, pissed you off instantly, but you couldn't do anything.

The man sat up straight, his long legs spread, as he leaned forward, trying to make conversation with you. His eyes looked you up and down, making your skin crawl.

"Thank you." You curtly and politely replied, folding your hands in your lap.

The man smiled, his lips curling back, revealing a set of yellowing teeth that was stained with god knows what. The man continued to speak, his eyes trailing down your body. "I mean it. You're so pretty. You ever modeled?"

You felt your yukata tug, the pale fabric now between his slender fingers rolling the material. You clicked your tongue, pulling it out from his grip. "No, I haven't."

For a split second, the man frowned, as if he were thrown off that you had snatched it away, though quickly a smile was formed. "Awh, c'mon. Don't you think your body is good enough for modeling? I mean, you've got a pretty face, no doubt. I know there are magazines that take pretty girls like you."

The man licked his lips, as if he were about to say something dirty after. The man continued, moving closer to your body.

"You just gotta, show them what they wanna see, y'know? It'll be easy. I mean, with a body like that, you won't have trouble getting hired."

His hand moved up your thigh, and it took every ounce of you not to snap his arm like a twig. The mans fingers trailed up your thigh, inching closer to the edge of your skirt, before you slapped his hand away, the sound resounding in the near quiet station.

The man looked shocked, seemingly taken off guard. He stared at his hand blankly, as if he didn't expect you to be the type to slap him. His eyes flicked to you, narrowing slightly, though his facade of a smile quickly was placed back on to mask his annoyance. The man quickly shook his head, and forced a chuckle.

"C'mon. I ain't got no bad intentions, girl. I was just trying to give you some advice. I was just trying to say that—.” His fingers trailed up your thigh once again, his fingers crawling like spiders, the tips of his nails digging in your skin hard, to the point it was uncomfortable.

Your hand flew out to his, your fingers gripping it, his skin fizzled and sizzled as you allowed for your curse technique to work. "I'd advise you to keep your hands to yourself from how."

The man let out a sharp cry of pain, his fingers trembling in your grip as he began to sweat profusely. If it wasn't for all the people around, he probably would've cursed you out, but instead he just stared at your hand in disbelief, feeling his skin melted under your hands.

With a sigh, you let go of his hand, before folding your hands back into your lap. The man ripped his hand back, gasping to see that there was no physical damage to his skin, in fact it looked the same, but he felt a searing burn to it. He didn't believe what he was seeing, or what he was feeling, but he got the message clear loud and clear.

The man quickly got up, muttering to himself under his breath, as he walked away, throwing side glances at you every so often as he left.

"My, that was impressive." A soft, male voice said from behind you. The voice was light and sweet, but had a sarcastic undertone to it. Upon hearing it, you felt a shiver up your back, even though it was a relatively cool night. When you looked behind you, someone was slowly approaching you, their hands in their pockets.

You noticed his hair before anything else, it was a pale mint colour, then was his raggedy outfit, then his stitches, and at last, his silver, blind eye. "So you're Mahito?" You asked, looking up at the man.

The man titled his head to the side, the corners of his lips curling upwards into a smile as if he were impressed. His hands were still in his pockets, as he slowly strutted over to you. His eyes scanned you from the top of your head to your feet as he stood in front of you, his smile only getting wider.

"In the flesh."

You hum. "So, where are the other curses and the sorcerers?"

Mahito grinned, though his smile didn't reach his eyes. He shook his head, as if he were about to tell you what he did was some funny inside joke, though quickly he cleared his throat and shook off the smile.

"Oh, you know." Mahito took a few steps forward till he was standing beside you, his eyes flicking to yours momentarily before looking over the people around the station. "Busy, fighting one another. It's such a hassle, don't you think? I mean, I'm just so strong that there aren't any sorcerers fighting me! Though that Gojo guy is definitely trying to find me."

You had heard of him, Gojo Satoru, his name brought dread to curses.

Mahito shrugged. "Wonder why the others haven't tried to find me, maybe they're dead," he grinned. "I did cast a veil, but oh well—."

Just as Mahito finished speaking, an object whizzed past your head, barely missing it, before it dug into the wall— a nail. "Shit, I missed. Megumi, a little help over here?" A girl yelled, before preparing to hit another nail over.

"Spoke too soon, there's they are! Precious sorcerers." Mahito sighed, not looking over to where the nail had been thrown. Mahito groaned audibly, shaking his head as if he were a disappointed teacher, which in a way, he was.

He clicked his tongue in fake annoyance, leaning close to your ear to murmur under his breath, to make sure the sorcerer didn't hear him.

"Such a buzzkill." He slid off, before taking on a full blown sprint, away from the sorcerers and disappearing into the crowds, his touch turning the people nearby into ugly things, skin melting into hideous rolls.

The two were stunned to see the people around them melt into disgusting masses of flesh, screams, cries, and panic was thrown around by the crowds of people. The sorcerers just stood in horror, watching people's skin peel off and deform.

Mahito was having the time of his life, grinning ear to ear, and giggling as he ran through the crowds of people.

Sorcerers who you hadn't seen before went after Mahito, leaving you with the girl, and boy who you assumed was 'Megumi’z

Something sharp and cold hit and dug into your neck, like a pin prick. You reached a hand around and pulled the object out of your neck—it was another nail, then it combusted, fazing right through you.

You turned your head to face the girl with a glare at the fact you had been interrupted again, and you held the nail in your hand, examining it.

They had to be the ones who tried and failed to catch Mahito, and they had tried to kill you too even though it didn't work. Megumi watched, though his lips were still in a straight line.

The girl clenched her jaw, her lips slightly parted, as if she were confused how you weren't dead.

"What? It didn't even do damage..." the girl mumbled.

Megumi growled in anger, "Shit, where's Nanami?" Megumi clicked his tongue, his fists shaking as he let his hand hang by his side. He began to turn his head, searching through the people who were running, trying to find the person he had mentioned.

The girl looked just as frustrated, her fists clenched as her nails dug into her palms. She let out a loud huff, her lips curling down into a frown. The girl raised her hammer, and hit more nails at you, and even though they did little to no damage, you still pranced around avoiding them.

"Finally, someone who can have a little fun!" You cheer, stepping out from the bench.

The girl was definitely frustrated now, even more than she had been before. The fact you were doing something the exact opposite of what she wanted pissed her off. The girl let out a scoff, looking over to Megumi.

Megumi sighed under his breath, his jaw clenched, and his eyes flicked between you and his partner. His fists clenched at his side, his nails digging into his palms. He seemed to be doing his best to keep his patience.

You planted your foot on the ground before speeding off to the two. The duo quickly got into a defensive position, their eyes not leaving you. Megumi moved to stand in front of the girl.

The girl moved her hammer, ready to hit you as you approached. You struck out a hand, letting it glow red before a jet of manipulated acid shot out, forming a shape of a spear before plummeting it to the two.

Megumi grabbed the girls wrist and tugged her aside, using his free hand to block the acid with a burst of water, a burst of smoke filled in the space around the area.

The girl grunted, staring at you through the clearing smoke. She looked frustrated. Megumi had a cool and calmer look on his face, the only thing showing any kind of feeling being the sweat dripping down the side of his cheek.

The other people, though terrified, were in your way. The people who were in the way began to notice and move, though most were having trouble getting themselves out of the way in time.

Those who did move ran to safety, most of the people in the station were scattering away. Leaving a rather large open space in between the group of fighters, and the still panicked citizens.

The only downside was the large number of civilians being in the crossfire of this fight.

You let add a noise of annoyance, before putting your thumbs together, hands open, mumbling your curse technique. Thick waves of acid out, the pearly liquid engulfing the civilians, devouring their bodies until they were nothing.

The duo couldn't believe what they were seeing. Megumi stared at the puddle of sludge that the people's bodies had become, his lips in a straight line from shock. The girl looked shocked, but not as much as Megumi, her eyes darted from you to the civilians you had slain with the wave of acid.

Megumi clasped his hands together, yelling, "Demon dogs!" before a large wolf like a dog, both white and black in colour jumped out from behind him, barrelling towards you.

Megumi was quick with whatever he was doing, as the large wolf quickly sprung into action and charged forward, running at you. It didn't seem like it slowed down even when it had to leap over a pile of acid.

The dog was fast, and was on you in seconds, not allowing you much time to react. You sent another wave of acid towards the dog. The dog tried to dodge and weave through the acid, though it had no success. The large dog was hit, its legs melting under the acid, as it's body was reduced to a pile of goo.

The girl stared down at the puddle of dog with a shocked expression, not sure how you'd managed to melt a shikigami with such ease.

"Bye, bye!" You exclaimed, before raising a fist, forming a thought acidic bubble around you before it collapsed, having you nowhere to be seen. Megumi let out a curse under his breath as you were gone, not sure where you had gone after that show of power.

The girl gritted her teeth with her lips in a flat line, looking around frantically to see if she could identify your next move.

Somewhere else in Shibuya, on the side of a building, did you emerge from an acidic rip. You had the vantage point, and the view of Shibuya at night, with everything lit up and the people scrambling around in chaos, was beautiful.

The sky, however was unusually pitch black, a veil. Where you stood, there was already chaos, you could tell by the damaged buildings and property. There were cracks and holes in the roads, with a lot of buildings being half broken. The veil above was dark, not a sign of light other than the stars peeking around it.

You strolled down the streets, distantly hearing noise. The noise was quiet, sounding like murmurs and cries, until the faint sound of fighting reached your ears. The sound was definitely getting closer, and the longer you walked, the clearer it got. There was fighting going on somewhere near.

You rounded a corner, and the fighting seemed to be getting closer. If you continued walking, you would be approaching the fight.

The further you walked, the stronger the stench of blood and death got. The more you walked, the more the buildings melted into a heap of nothingness. It seemed it was either you climb the mess, or turn around, so naturally, you began to climb.

It felt like this area was completely destroyed, with nothing but rubble for miles.

You began to climb the debris, using your cursed technique as an extra grip for your feet. The only issue was the fact it was difficult to climb, with the pieces of building falling, or giving no grip. The noise of chaos got louder on the other side, now you reached the peak, looking down at a large number of people fighting two, and upon squinting, you recognised one.

Your cursed technique bubble under your feet, burning away a smooth path for you as you climbed down, heading straight for the white and partly red haired woman. "Uraume? Is that you?"

Uraume was currently occupied with fighting off two students, who were trying their best to fight back. When Uraume heard your voice, her head turned around, eyes wide, then a smile tugged at her lips. She spoke up, though she didn't look away from the students. "Is that you, my Lady?"

"Yes, what a pleasant surprise," you replied, small smile gracing your face as though you didn't walk straight through a fight. You looked over to the other curse user, his long, raven hair flowing in the wind as he sent shikigami after shikigami to the six other sorcerers. "Need any help?"

Uraume let out a small laugh, her lips curling upward in a small smile as she looked you up and down. She seemed to be quite happy to hear your voice, and in her time of need. At your question, Uraume shook her head, a confident look placed on her face. "I can handle these students."

You just hummed. "Alright, I'll go see what's happening over there."

Uraume nodded, keeping her focus on her own opponents before you had moved off. The chaos down below was overwhelming, with the sounds of explosions, fighting and cursing echoed.

For this man, you didn't ask if you needed help, instead shooting a web of acid, the liquid solidifying as it shot through the air, wrapping around two students who were fighting side by side—an overly large panda, and a boy who's eyes were shut closed, odd.

You ran over, narrowly avoiding getting sucked into a dark abyss caused by none other than the other curse user as slimes, ugly shikigami's shot out and attacked the other students. Your next target was a girl with blue hair.

She had a long sword in her hand, swinging it boldly when she heard you bearing towards her. "Two can play at that game, girl." You chuckled, forming an acidic sword.

The girl watched you for a while before taking notice of your appearance. She kept her composure, though a nervous feeling bubbled up in her stomach. The girl was a little hesitant, but readied her blade anyway, her eyes narrowed at you.

Your sword blade clinked against hers. The girl grit her teeth slightly, her blade clashing against yours. She wasn't exactly a great sword fighter, though she held her composure as she glared at you.

The force of her swing was quite powerful. She seemed to take you seriously, not underestimating like other people may have. Her foot stepped forward, trying to shove you away, before shoving her sword in an upwards motion.

Your sword went flying, dissolving into a puddle which burned a hole in the ground. You clicked your tongue. "I've gotten weak." You murmured, allowing for her sword to fade through you, the metal melting from the acid you covered yourself with.

The girl cursed under her breath, quickly pulling her sword back and taking a few steps away. The girl stared in disbelief, but shook off the feeling. She had never seen anything like that, that was for sure.

You let the acidic barrier drop, spinning to face the girl. "Acid, is acid." You muttered, striking out a hand to touch the girl. She lets out a noise of surprise, her stomach feeling sore.

You were going to manipulate her stomach acid, let it harden and turn to sharps, piercing her, before you felt an inkling to raise your acidic barrier up, right before something that resembled a blood spike shot right through you. Obviously, you felt nothing, but couldn't help look at the perpetrator.

A man, with a tattooed nose, and pinned up hair stood, palms pressed against each other, shooting out a long, red beam. He seemed to be a curse user as well, though he was attacking you. Had he turned on curse users's beliefs?

The man grunted, shaking his head, as he kept his palms pressed against one another to keep firing his blood technique at you. He was focused, eyebrows furrowed, as his lips pulled back into a grimace, making him look even more intimidating.

"Hm, I pity you," you said, forming an acidic bubble around you, teleporting you to roght behind the man. "You're still weak, even for a special grade." You reached a hand out, quickly latching it onto him before changing the form and matter of his stomach acid.

The man cursed, his breath hitching as he tried to fight back. He wasn't ready at all to face the feeling of something being messed with his stomach, his insides felt like it was in fire. The man gasped, groaning, as he stared at you, with his eyes wide in horror. He didn't feel himself melt, but he could feel something horrible happening inside of him.

"Let's see, do you think you're going to heaven or hell?" You asked, flexing your fingers, making his stomach acid harden and grow sharp.

The man's face contorted in pain, his knees buckling as he fell forward to the ground. The man couldn't even try to answer you, the pain of manipulation of his cursed energy was a feeling no other curse or sorcerer could experience.

His head smacked against the ground, as his body jolted, as if he were seizing. You let it turn into a spear head, gradually growing and piercing his organs until the tip made a dent in his skin. The man stared at his chest, his eyes watering as more tears began to drop from his eyes. His vision blurred, and he couldn’t the difference between his tears or blood or the veil or even his manipulation.

He stared at the dent in his chest before raising his eyes to meet yours, as he wheezed, the tips of his fingers trembling. The man let out a small, pained laugh, wheezing through the pain, before a small smile tugged at his lips. Through the pain in his stomach, he had no idea why, but he found you incredibly impressive.

Though you found him boring, this wasn't fun, you thought. So instead you removed your hand, leaving the man hurt, but not dead, not yet anyway, and decided to target someone else. Your eyes landed on two poeple fighting side by side, a girl with glasses and forest green hair, twirling a large sword and fighting off shikigamis, and a boy, who's hair was a blush pink.

The duo was fighting a horde of shikigamis, and seemed to be doing it with ease. The girl swung the sword around with a rather graceful finesse. While the man's fists were balled, throwing punch after punch, and using his hands to grab and flick aside or break the shikigamis when they came too close.

Both seemed to be doing great, not noticing you at all in the midst of the battlefield, which was to your advantage. Uraume's offer was perfect, as well as very convenient. With all the chaos it was unlikely to get the chance again.

You found yourself grinning, as you looked over to Uraume, giving a small nod. You formed acid under your feet, using it to slide to the girl before shooting a tentacle of acid to her sword, melting the metal.

The girl gasped, jumping back as the tentacles of acid shot out, melting her sword. She didn't see that coming, looking down at her now melted sword in disbelief, as she stared at where you suddenly were now standing.

She clenched her fists, but remained calm as she stepped into a defensive position, even if she was without a weapon for now. The girl wasn't about to give up this fight, despite the odds being against her.

The boy noticed, his eyes flicking from Uraume to you, his eyes widening at the scene. The boy let out an annoyed groan, punching more shikigamis to a pulp with ease in frustration. His fists were red, bruised and bleeding, but that seemed to drive him to hit harder.

Uraume was shooting ice daggers at the boy. The boy had managed to block out the first few, but the last few hit his arms. He winced at each hit, his skin getting slightly cut, just nothing major.

The boy grit his teeth in frustration, letting out a loud huff as he focused his gaze on Uraume, his own eyes narrowing further. The girl had no time to react to the sudden tentacle of acid, and it came crashing down on her.

She felt the warm, hot liquid on her skin and let out a sharp cry of pain, her skin sizzling as it burnt. She tried to jump out of the way, but her movements were stiff. The acid kept raining down, burning a hole in the ground.

The girl's skin turned red at first, then it quickly melted, the acid having melted through her clothes, and eating at her skin, the liquid burning into her flesh and muscle as the girl let out a painful cry.

She was still alive, somehow, coughing and wheezing, as she tried desperately to keep herself together. The boy clenched his fists, clenching his teeth together as he watched, his eyes wide. He wanted to jump in, but soon felt ice envelope him, now having him stationary in the cold, frozen cube.

The boy tried to fight the ice, his limbs trembling from the cold seeping into his bloodstream, but it was futile. He felt his legs, arms and fingers turning numb as he let out painful grunts, his breath turning visible.

The other curse user with the flowing black hair grumbled under his breath, before changing out another shikigami, a shimmering dragon, before it picked him up and took him elsewhere.

Uraume scoffed, wiping her cold lips before turning to you. "You did very well, My Lady." You heard Uraume, letting a small smirk tug at your lips. You had killed with ease, without even really getting hurt. It was satisfying to say the least.

You had to admit, the fight was fun too, as well as seeing the other curse users get frustrated. "Thank you, Uraume, you did good as well."

However, what you two failed to notice was on each side of the cheeks of the pinkette boy, two slits opened, revealing a pair of red eyes, both staring at you.

Something strummed in the boy's chest, something intense, a voice boomed and roared in his head, demanding to be free. The boy's eyes opened wide, staring directly at you. The more he looked at you, the more he felt something, an odd, intense feeling bubble up in his chest.

The veins in his arms and on his neck could be seen, as he began to tremble from the intense feeling in his chest.

The voice growled, before mumbling "enchain", spontaneously switching forms. The boy gasped as his form changed, large scars appearing over his body as well as his hair and eyes. His teeth grew into sharp canines, and his nails turned black, almost like claws. He let out an inhuman growl, his chest heaving as he seemed to get even taller and muscular.

The ice block melted instantly, revealing the monster of a man you loved, though not in true form, but still as equally terrifying. His huffs turned to laughs, then a malicious chuckle that boomed, causing your attention to turn, a small gasp leaving your lips.

No, it can't be.

Your Ryomen had been killed and chopped up.

Uraume instantly dropped to her knees, bowing at the king. "Master Sukuna, I'm sorry." She murmured.

Sukuna's chuckles died down. "You're forgiven." He muttered, brushing her off, before his scarlet eyes were on you again. It was almost easy to miss the way his eyes widened, or his jaw lax, or the way his frown shallowed.

Sukuna's eyes fell on you, his gaze was heavy as he stared at you. Sukuna wasn't a soft man, he was rough and he was cruel, but even he could feel something well in his chest as he stared. He hadn't seen you in so long. He felt something, a warm, heavy, intense feeling in his chest that he couldn't put his finger on. What was he feeling?

You blinked. "Ryo...?" You whispered, bringing your fingers to your lips.

Sukuna's breath hitched in his throat as he heard you call his name. He had missed you. He was in shock, his lips parting as he just watched your every move. He couldn't really process seeing you again after so long. He felt his lips slightly quiver in surprise, a thousand more emotions welling up in his chest as he tried to form words. Sukuna took slow steps towards you, as he was just taking in your appearance now.

He was trying so hard not to let his feelings get the better of him, though that was hard as he came to stop a few feet away from you. Sukuna had millions of unspoken words that filled his head, he kept staring at you quietly.

Something surged within you, causing you to bounce over to him and throwing your arms around his still large frame, laughter bubbling from you. "It's you! It's you! It's you!"

Sukuna felt his breath hitch in his breath as you threw yourself onto him, your arms around him in a tight embrace. He wrapped his arms around you instinctively, his breath hitching again as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply.

The others who were trapped in ice could only watch in horror, they didn't know what was more terrifying; the King of Curses, or the King of Curses being nice.

Sukuna could just barely feel his hands trembling against the fabric of your clothes. He was trying to hide it, but he couldn't hide the fact that he was shaking from the adrenaline and emotions in his chest.

You couldn't fend off the tears that pebbled at your eyelashes as you leant back to look at your lover. "I missed you so, so, so much, Ryo."

Sukuna's whole demeanor felt soft and tender as you looked at him. He was vulnerable, though he tried his hardest to conceal it. He had missed you too, he missed you so much that it had hurt these few months apart.

He gently held your chin, his thumb wiping a stray tear from the corner of your eye as he couldn't stop looking at you. He was still in disbelief you were here, in front of him. Sukuna quickly pulled you back to him, his fingers curling into the fabric of your clothes as he held you closely, not wanting to let you go. Sukuna held you against him, his grip tightening as he gently nuzzled his face into your neck. He couldn't believe you were here in his arms again, after so much time he spent wondering if he would ever see you again.

"I missed you too brat, so much." He muttered against your skin, his breath warm against your neck. His large hands roamed up and down your back, his hands trailing up to gently place his hand on the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair.

Sukuna had missed so much in these few centuries. He had missed holding you like this even though he didn't do it often with you, he missed the small moments spent together when you were alone, he missed your sweet smile and laugh, everything.

The King of Curses was weak at the moment, he had been through much, but seeing you like this made him feel almost whole again.

You untangled yourself from him. "How are you even alive? I thought..."

Sukuna looked down at you, he had missed your small form. He had missed looking down at you, the corners of his lips tugged up as he heard your question. He gently held you at arms length, his large hands still on your shoulders.

"It's a long story," he sighed. He gently tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear, his fingertips brushing your cheek in the process before his hand moved to the nape of your neck.

Sukuna could feel his emotions swelling again. He wanted to hold you in his hold again, or kiss you. So many things he had missed, he was like a starved man who was just offered a meal. His thumb gently ran over your cheek as he kept his scarlet eyes on your form, just taking you in again after all this time.

"All these foolish sorcerers, they're in my way," Sukuna murmured, a finger tapping his chin. "All the better." He shrugged, before bringing his fingers together and chanting out his domain expansion. You and Sukuna were sucked into the domain, rendering you two alone.

Uraume managed to escape the inky globe that was now hovering in Shibuya.

Your shoes were submerged in the same waters of Sukuna's domain, just below the hill of skulls.

He was say on his thrown at the very top of the hill of bones. Sukuna let out a soft chuckle as his domain swallowed the area, the two of you ending up alone together. He was in the same domain again, his territory of skulls and a lake of blood.

Sukuna sat on his throne, looking down at you with a small smirk on his lips He beckoned for you, his gaze fixated on you. The only thing he wanted right now was this, you. "Come here, brat." Sukuna was a man of few words, especially in private. But he wanted, needed you by his side for now. The only thing he wanted to do was see you, touch you... and possibly take you back to the palace with him.

He wanted this, he needed this.

You began your ascent to him, stepping on mandibles and maxilla's, eagerly wading to your lover. Sukuna's eyes remained on you, watching your every step upwards towards him. He held his hands together, waiting for you to approach the throne. He couldn't hide his smile as his lips tugged back, seeing you walk towards him. It felt like a dream to him, that after months you were finally approaching him again. It felt like forever.

When you reached the top, Sukuna wasted no time to pull you by your yukata, sending you crashing onto his lap. His head was instantly back to your neck. You helped when you felt his tongue dart out, then his teeth. "Ryo, what the hell?"

Sukuna let out a small chuckle as you complained, but he only placed his lips against the crook of your neck, a small huff leaving him. "I just want to remind myself how you taste. You have no idea how much I missed you, brat. You're going to get me addicted again." Sukuna's voice was almost a growl.

You brought a hand to his hair and gently pulled back, wanting to see his face. "What's got you so eager?"

Sukuna let out an almost growl, glowering at you. "All these centuries, I haven't seen you. Why wait for more time to pass? I'm only getting older." He latched a hand to your neck before sliding it up, to your jaw, where he turned and struck out his forefinger, shoving it past your lips.

Sukuna's fingers threaded through your hair gently, allowing you to move his head back. Sukuna had missed your gentle touch, his eyes narrowing at your question. He wanted to keep you close, never wanting you out of his sight ever again.

Being in his domain expansion, having you in his hold so he could just touch you, see you right in front of him, was heavenly for the King of Curses. It had been months and he had missed you more than he had imagined he would.

His finger gently ran across the inside of your mouth, his scarlet eyes boring into you. He felt that intense, warm feeling in his chest again, his fingers trembling gently against your jaw.

Sukuna slithered his finger deeper into your mouth, nail scratching your throat. "I've wrecked homes, torn villages to shreds. Gutted morons and pests, yet none give me the thrill of seeing you at my mercy." He purred, bringing his free hand to the folds of your dress, and tugging at the seams.

Sukuna ran his eyes over your form, taking you in. He pressed his finger against the back of your throat, his nail scratching it while his other hand tugged at the seams of your clothes, trying to get the fabric to move more so he could see more of your waist.

Sukuna's eyes flicked down to your cleavage, feeling his breath hitch as he huffed. He wanted your damn clothes gone, just seeing it only irritated him more.

He had missed feeling you in his hold. He missed you against his chest, his large hands roaming over your body. Sukuna wanted to mark you. He wanted to leave marks all over you, making every other sorcerer know that you belonged to him and him alone.

He wanted to ruin you.

Sukuna grunted, your dress not coming off, so he would use the one thing he thought of. You whimpered as you felt flames kiss your skin, before your yukata was in ashes, presenting you almost bare, bar your underwear. Sukuna let out a pleased grunt as he watched your dress disintegrate into ash. He wanted to see more, and you in next to nothing was amazing.

He took a minute to admire your half-naked form, running his fingers along your skin, taking advantage of the skin-to-skin contact he had missed for months with a hum.

You choked on his finger, squirming in his lap. It was unfair how he was fully clothed, you thought. Sukuna could smell your arousal, could sense it, but he was fine with it. He'd get to that in due time. He wasn't going to move fast.

As you squirmed in his lap, his hand moved to your thighs, his fingers digging his nails into the skin there to hold you still, his thumb tracing small circles on your inner thighs. Sukuna's own clothing felt constricting. He wanted you. He wanted you here and now, to feel you against him, for you to belong with him.

His grip on your inner thighs tightened, as his lips pressed against your collarbone, kissing it and sucking harshly. Sukuna wanted to leave his mark on your skin, to claim you as his own.

You reached your hands to between the two of you, digging them under the cream coloured fabric of his kimono, trying to pull it free. Slowly, the fabric peeled back to reveal his rippling, inked muscles. It wasn't enough, eagerly you tugged further down the kimono, pulling at the cloth around Sukuna's waist until he too was bare; rock hard and leaking, achingly thick and blissfully long.

You blinked up at him, giving him your best pleading expression, even with his finger far in your mouth, just needing to be filled by him.

Sukuna saw how you looked up at him, seeing your expression. What a sight it was as he kept his own large finger moving inside your mouth. He wanted you, so badly, he wanted to completely take you.

Sukana removed his finger from your mouth, a trail of saliva connecting from it to your lips. His large hands fell on your waist, lifting you a bit. Noticing how you immediately reacted to that, his lips pulled into a smirk as he watched your expression

"Please, Ryo? Need you to be inside me." You begged, fruitlessly jutting your hips, earning faint pleasure between your legs, though it would never suffice.

Sukuna felt himself twitch in anticipation as your words, a low growl escaping his throat. That's what he had missed the most, hearing you like that, hearing you beg for his touch. He grabbed your hips, pinning them down.

He wanted to break you, make you forget anything apart from him, but he wasn't going to move fast. He took his time, he wanted to take you slow, make it last long and just relish the feeling of you being back in his arms. "Are you so impatient for me, brat?" He cooed

Sukuna gently traced his fingertips along the lace fabric of your underwear, his eyes looking up to meet yours. A smirk tugged at his lips as he ran his fingertips over you, teasing you.

"Yes. Just, please? I need this as much as you do." You whined, shooting a hand to your underwear and shoving it to the side, now presenting your dripping cunt.

Sukana let out a low, pleased growl. He loved how you were so eager for him, it was satisfying. He watched you impatiently as you pleaded, his smirk still on his lips. "So eager for me, huh?" Sukana taunted, knowing the answer as his fingers traced small shapes against your inner thighs, his nails scratching the skin. "You think you can take me? It's only one cock, yet you still struggle. Maybe I need to stretch that pussy." Sukuna huffed, bringing two, thick digits to your hole.

So in a blink of an eye, he plunged his fingers inside, not giving you any prep before hand. You let out a loud moan, it echoed through the domain, fingers curling around the fabric on Sukuna's shoulders. "Oh, my god!" Sukuna began to piston his fingers, scissoring the two as he thrusted them into your pulsating hole.

Sukana let out a small groan, just how he remembered, you weren't quiet even a little. Not that he minded, he loved it.

He groaned, his eyes fixated on you as he watched your expression. All the noises you made filled his head, he wanted to listen to you, all night. He wanted to break you, claim you, and make you his again. He curled his fingers, hitting that one spot inside you, that had your toes curl and your mind fog up.

Sukuna's eyes flicked up at your reaction, a pleased, low chuckle escaped his lips as he curled his fingers. He knew that spot, knew it well. After all, it's not like this was his first time doing this to you.

He wanted to hear you beg for more, he loved it. He pressed his fingers against it again, enjoying the way your chest heaved, making more noises for him as the two of you sat on the throne. Sukuna smirked at the faces you made, bringing a hand to your breasts, second mouth forming on his palm, before his lips wrapped around your sensitive nub.

Your sensitive body seemed to react so quickly to Sukana's every move, and he loved everything about it. This was his kingdom, and you were currently his queen, in front of him, in his lap, and all his. Not to mention the small moans he heard leaving you, the way your nails dug into his skin, driving him nearly insane over you.

Sukana's lips wrapped around your sensitive nipple, his cursed energy wrapping around you as his tongue moved in soft, but precise circles over it. He was working you well, making you whine and moan for him in the quiet domain, filling the silence with your sounds of pleasure, a chorus to his ears as it bounced off the walls of his domain. The small moans and noises you made were music to his ears. Sukana wanted you to feel good, to feel him take over you, and the way you arched into his lips showed he was doing just

"P-Please, Ryo? Can't wait anymore, need to feel you..."

Sukana almost smirked, almost. Hearing you beg him, call his name like that. It drove him insane, and he needed to give in. He moved, picking you up, and moving you out of his lap so he could stand, pinning you against the throne.

He stood before you, holding you against the throne as he looked down at you, his hands on your waist. "Fine, brat. I'll give you what you want," Sukuna clicked his tongue, moving his hips until his throbbing, red tip was aligned with your entrance. "But don't say it's too much."

In one, fluid movement, he thrusted himself in. His cock stretched your cunt beyond its limits, and what was scary is this wasn't the biggest he could be.

He grunted softly, his eyes falling close for a brief moment as he savored the feeling of you around him. He loved this. He loved the feeling of you, the way you felt around him, the way you were his. Sukana held your waist, his fingers pressed into your skin there as he looked you over. He couldn't believe he had you back, like this too.

Sukuna was merciless. Pounding away into you like there was no tomorrow, causing the throne to shift on the bones and skulls. All you could do was take the bullying between your legs, screaming his name, nails clawing at his shoulders. "Oh, fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Love your cock, so much, my lord!"

His title that fell from your lips sent a shiver through him. If anyone knew you had him wrapped around your finger, he'd be a dead man. He huffed and grunted into your ear, breath hot on your skin. "Such a filthy mouth you have, my lady."

You whined, staring up at your lover with teary eyes, mouth agape and blabbering sweet nothings.

Sukuna loved seeing you be so submissive, to him, calling him your lord, your king. He would only let that slide with you. His lips met your neck, kissing and biting at the skin there, leaving marks behind.

The way you felt around him was addicting, and having you beg for him made it better. He had missed this feeling, this pleasure, with you for so long he wanted to savor it. Sukana wanted this to last as much as he could, to make you feel good, and to take you here in his domain.

Sukana's lips traveled up from your neck, to your lips, as he pressed his own against yours in a searing kiss, he moved his tongue over your lips, licking them. He wanted to taste you in every sense he could.

Sukana swallowed all the noises you were making, each noise of yours just added to his enjoyment. He wanted more, more of you. Sukana let his tongue slip into your mouth, exploring and tasting you completely.

The bones of his throne dug into your shoulders, and the buck horns of it dug into your shin. It only added to the pleasure, your nails scratching at his skin, everything did. Sukana wanted to feel it all, the way you felt and sounded as he took you.

Sukana grunted into your mouth, his tongue pressing against yours, his hands now moving to your thighs, and he lifted you up from the throne, using it for leverage, as his hands moved just enough to grip you thighs so he could start moving you again.

He wanted to feel every bit of you, and he didn't want to let you go. He couldn't, so he pushed more, wanting it all. Sukana wanted you to be his in every sense of the word, and now was not the exception. He wanted you to be his, his queen, his lover, his.

He wanted you to call his name, to moan it, scream it, anything. He wanted to ruin you, break you, and claim you as his and his. He wanted to claim and break you all, make you forget anything other than him, anything else.

The moans that left your lips sounded so sweet to him, even sweeter than honey. This was what he had missed, the pleasure the two of you shared, and the feeling of the two of you melting into each other. Sukana wanted to break you, ruin you, make you his for the next days, weeks, months, or years. Sukana was making you feel so good your mind turned to a mess.

You felt everything as he took you. How he moved you, the throne digging into your back, his large hands on your body, making you feel the heat coming off of him. Sukana's lips on yours as he claimed your mouth, his tongue pushing into your mouth, his grunts of pleasure right against you.

Your mind turned to a mess every time Sukana moved, and every moment. It was almost hard to form words with him, but he was perfect.

Sukuna loved the way you moved with him, how you tried to take him as he moved, how you tried to make him feel good too in return. Sukana groaned into your mouth at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin. He loved every second of it, enjoying taking you, breaking you for him.

The feeling of the coil in your tummy tightening was driving him insane, it had been so long since he remembered those signs or saw them from you, but now he was so glad it was back like that.

His movements only got more intense, wanting to see you fall over the edge. Sukana could feel yourself start to tighten around him, the way you would squeeze him in response and it only made him push more. He was desperate for you, wanting to feel and watch you break as you reached your orgasm with him, coating his fat cock with your cum, crying out as you did, while he stuffed you full of his.

He groaned into your mouth, panting and grunting as he moved his lips to your neck again, suckling on the skin there. He wanted to mark you as his, so everyone would know who you belonged to, to him.

There was no one else you belonged to, that would make his blood boil. You belonged to him and nothing would change that.

Your body fell limp, breathing into Sukuna's mouth as you were well worn. Sukana held you up as you went limp, only holding you more. He wasn't done yet but he let you relax for the moment while he looked at you, his fingers gently roaming over your body for the moment, his chest heaving as he also tried to catch his breath.

He still loved to simply hold you and touch you however he could. His lips moved back to your neck, kissing and sucking the skin there, adding more marks from his lips, marks to show you were his.

"Ryo...do we have to go back?"

Sukana did not like the thought of having to go back. It was nice being in the domain just with you, being able to hold you and make you his. But he knew this wasn't permanent. Sukana moved his lips from your skin, bringing his fingers under your chin to tilt you to look up at him. “Yes, unfortunately I don’t have full control over this brat so sooner or later I’ll be turning back. But trust I’ll find away to be with you again.”

But that wouldn't always be an option, he knew he would have to go back eventually. For now he savored the moment of having you in his hold, being able to touch you and hold you against him.

And even if it was for a few minutes more, you had your Ryo back.