#Sans had awoken something in me

[sparklinganxiety]

Do I have a type, I don't think I have a type?...

[beenbaanbuun]

cub w/ choi san

this is not proof read but it will be!!!!

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having thoughts about san with bear hybrid!reader, specifically on the first day of spring….

winter had been pretty lazy for the two of you. with a hibernating bear, there wasn’t much for him to worry about other than making sure you ate enough. you could keep yourself curled up in the little den you slumbered in in the corner of his room, all warm and cosy and safe in the knowledge that san would be there to take care of you. it’s safe to say that over those chilly winter months you were pampered—more than you perhaps should have been—but san was far too soft to care. if his little cub wanted something, then he’d be damned if you didn’t get it.

it was a few days before the beginning of march that he started to notice a change in you. you were actually asking for the things you wanted instead of just making sounds and expecting him to figure it out. your sentences were short, and you almost never lifted your head from beneath your blankets to say them, but it was more than he’d had for the past while. he’d even caught you stretching your limbs between bathroom breaks once or twice which almost made him drop whatever he was carrying every time he walked into the room to see you standing up, wobbly and bleary eyed.

you still let him feed you during those more lucid days. perhaps you might have been ‘awake’ enough to traipse yourself to the kitchen and grab a sweet treat from the fridge, but it was just so much easier to ask san to do it for you. he practically jumped at the chance, pressing a teeny kiss to your forehead with each request before shooting out of the room to complete it as soon as possible. it’s in his nature to be caring; you were simply using that to your advantage.

but perhaps san had gotten too used to your laziness as when the first day of spring finally rolled around, he found himself being rudely awoken by a weight falling atop his stomach. he groans, face screwing up in pain as all the air gets forced from his lungs. there’s a giggle that comes from the strange thing that’s wriggling over him like an overactive earth worm, and despite his frustration at his streak of lazy days being broken, he can’t help but crack a smile.

“it’s spring, i assume,” he murmurs, voice still gravelly with the remnants of last nights sleep. the worm wriggles it’s way up to his body until a head finds itself perched atop his chest. he cracks an eye open to look at you, “wriggly this morning, aren’t we?”

you make a point to squirm a little more, but your plans are soon foiled by an arm that wraps itself around your waist. “wouldn’t you be wriggly if you had the pent up energy of three whole months living inside of you?” you try to move but the grip only tightens. a displeased chuff crawls it’s way up your throat, but it does little more than make the man chuckle and tip his head back against the pillow once more.

“sleep a little more, my little pooh bear,” the nickname irritates you; that’s why he says it. san just adores hearing you grumble in complaint whilst being entirely too soft to act upon your non-verbal threats.

“i can’t sleep,” you reply, “so i’d appreciate it if you got up!”

“brat.”

“and who’s fault is that!” all your fight drains out of you when san still refuses to move. your shift your head to lay it flat against his chest, snorting out a sound of displeasure before puffing your cheeks up in a pout. san tells you you’re a good girl, but you don’t respond to him, simply too focussed on proving your displeasure. “you’re the one who pampered me all winter…”

and san supposed you’re right. he did spoil you a little more than he should so it’s no surprise that you’ve turned out to be such a little princess. he barely even blinks an eye when you command something of him, simply moving to comply to your demands straight away, and he hardly ever complains when you demand things; why would he when the you always seem so happy when he pampers you rotten? maybe his heart is too soft, or maybe you’ve just moulded it perfectly to fit right into your little mitts. san doesn’t doubt that you’re crafty enough to pull off some master manipulation scheme to make him your own personal butler, but somehow he can’t find it in him to care.

he sighs, “what do you even want to get up for? it’s cold outside and there aren’t even buds on the trees yet.”

san doesn’t even need to open the curtains to know that a thin layer of frost still carpets the grass outside; he can feel the chill infiltrating his bedroom, seeping through his skin and making his bones ache. a shiver runs through his body and to tugs you closer still.

“how do you know?” you argue.

“that it’s cold?” he replies incredulously, “because i can feel it, dummy.”

you roll your eyes, irritated at his answer.

“no,” someone’s grumpy, san thinks to himself. he’s sure he’ll have to work hard to make up for your bad mood later. whatever; he doesn’t have to pretend to be mad at it when he knows deep down that he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you smiling. “how do you know there aren’t leaves on the trees yet? your curtains are closed and so are your eyes! how can you tell if you haven’t even looked.”

god, you’re a brat.

san pushes you off of him, gently rolling you to the side before twisting his own body to pin you to the mattress. again, your body moves like a worm as he settles atop you, but one soft kiss against your neck has you melting into him. soft little cub; you’re not the only one who knows how to get what you want.

“i can tell because there weren’t any yesterday,” his voice is hushed against your ear, his warm breath tickling your soft skin. you squeal and try and squirm free, but the way he’s holding you keeps you in place. there’s another kiss right below your earlobe and you go limp once more, “trees don’t go green over night, my sweet teddy. a little patience doesn’t go amiss, sometimes.”

and you can’t help but feel like he’s making a jab at you with that last comment. patience is never something you’ve had, but again, its san’s tendency to spoil you that’s to blame. you scoff, but don’t say a thing.

“now, cub,” san whispers, “take a little nap with me and we can enjoy spring a little later.”

[shuugumi]

❥ "𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄?"

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: gojo satoru is admitted into the hospital after a deadly accident when out on a mission. you, his wife, rushes over and something…heartbreaking happens.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: amnesia, hospital, gojo x reader, angst(?), 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, established relationship, 1k653wc

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐝𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: something for the best boy after these manga leaks. akutami you bitch!!!

right now you were running through the tokyo train station. the urgency to make your way to the hospital, thought after thought made you rush even more. “Please be okay..” you whispered to yourself as you got onto one of the train carts.

thankfully for the technological advancements, you were able to get to the hospital in no time. but you still rushed over. definitely gaining the attention of the other civilians.

“hi my husband, Gojo Satoru. was admitted into the hospital at uh—” you uttered, looking at your watch before telling the time when you got the phone call. “gojo-san is in surgery right now. you can sit in the lobby until he’s done.” the receptionist who looked like she didn’t want to be there said emotionless before showing the lobby. you sighed before sitting down on one of the cold metal chairs.

bouncing your leg nervously and unconsciously. you shouldn’t be bouncing your leg due to superstition reasons but in this case, it was the only thing that helped you. who cared who gave you werid looks. 貧乏ゆすり… the other visitors whispered under their breaths but you couldn’t help it. it didn’t help either when the claimed strongest sorcerer was in the hospital, getting a life depending surgery.

time passed and you swore you fell asleep just sitting in the chair. maybe the exhaustion from running from your school to the hospital finally caught up to you. but you were awoken by a woman lightly touching your shoulder. “excuse me? you’re here for gojo right?” she spoke softly and you desperately exhaled a “yes” and the nurse told you to follow her. there you were brought to his hospital room. “before we enter..he’s sleeping so you may want to be quiet..” the nurse spoke again and awiated for your nod before the nurse opened the door.

the sight was heartbreaking. he was attached to wires connected to many machines. his eyes were red and bruised. did he feel like this when i was in the hospital? you thought to yourself as you walked closer to the man who was in his slumber. the nurse excused themselves but told you to call them when he awoke..

“satoru…” you whispered under your breath as you grabbed a chair to sit over next to him. slowly and gently did you touch his hand, rubbing your thumb over the top of his hand. “i am glad they were able to do everything in the surgery and to help heal everything…what went wrong on the mission? but it doesn’t matter anymore..as long as your breathing i’ll take it.” you whisper as you rest your head on the edge of the hospital bed, swabbing your thumb on his hand.

“eh, i needed saving this time..” you heard that voice. the voice that you found to be your safe place rasph out, here and there coughing you jolted your head up. “satoru! you’re up!!” you exclaim, quickly wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his chest.

“who-are you?”

the man who had just woken after god knows what spoke aloud. Immediately you looked up at him, “what do you mean?—” you said perplexed as you released your arms around from his shoulders, allowing distance between the two of you. you were still situated sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. “satoru? i am your wife…y/N?” your voice faltered as a shiver traveled down your spine and the crystal blue eyes man just stared at you with confusion and when you went to grab his hand he immediately pulled back there, you felt your heart crack. 

“i- i don’t have a wife..” he spoke softly and you felt the two broken pieces of your heart shatter into a million more infinitesimal pieces. “satoru this isn’t something to joke about…” you reply rather sternly, still looking at a confused filled face. you sighed before getting up from the bed to call one of the nurses in. 

“it seems that he suffered a severe brain injury, hence the foggy memory loss..there isn’t much that we could do but what i may suggest is that, you can show him pictures of significant memories? like a wedding day picture. things that will spark these foggy memories?” the nurse mused before she went to type something on the computer that was in the room. 

your heart sank at the words the nurse said. tears had begun infiltrating the surface of your face. nerves tingle at the thought of everything you built with the man who currently laid in the hospital bed was demolished in his head. as the nurse finished up the hourly report and excused herself, leaving the two of you alone. you sat in one of the empty chairs that was in the room, sitting with your head down and the palms of your hands joining each other resting in your lap. “mrs?” the nurse called out, gaining your attention and you stood up. “we’re gonna run some more tests on him to see if there are any other underlying conditions…if you could, give us a few minutes.” the nurse said rather happily and you took a step outside the room. 

when you took that step outside, everything came crashing down. trying your absolute best to keep your composure in and out of the hospital room finally came undone when you weren’t in the same room with your husband. 

y/N?” a familiar voice exclaimed and wrapped their arms around your shoulders as you blubbered into them. “y/N what happened? is satoru okay?” the man asked and all you did was shake your head and held the man closer and tighter. “kento..satoru—he doesn’t remember me.” you shout into his chest which had already gained a big wet spot in place of your face.

“what do you mean he doesn’t remember you?” he says, grabbing your shoulders and forcing you to look at him. "he’s taking tests right now…i can show you after…”

“you’re able to go and visit him again!” another nurse who exited out of satoru’s hospital room beamed with a smile. “come on.” you blurt walking into the room to see satoru sitting down comfortably, taking small sips of seaweed soup. “gojo.” nanami stated, starting satoru from his meal. “woah! nanami you came to see me!—eh that same lady is also here too..”

“that ‘lady’ is your wife satoru.” nanami clarified before taking a steps closer to satoru and his bed. “pft—that’s what they all said too…but i don’t remember having a wife…” satoru side eyed you before looking back at nanami. “she’s out of my league…no ways she would settle for less..” he then added with a breathless sigh.

you stood back, listening to the two exchange words when you heard him saying, “she must be someone elses wife…they hit that jackpot that’s for sure..” and it made you laugh at his words. you knew that this other “man” he could have been thinking of was a actual other man but actually, the man laying in the hospital is the one who hit the jackpot.

excusing yourself and taking a step outside of the room, you brought your phone out and opened the photo app. maybe show him a picture that could spark the memory of you two? and as you scrolled through your ablum of photos with satoru you landed on one that made you unconsciously smile ear to ear.

the photo was when the two of you vacationed in hawaii. the first time the two of you were able to spend time away from work; the first ever stress free vacation. the photo displayed the two of you taking a selfie on the shore line in waikiki. the golden hour of the sun hitting your slightly reddish skin from the sunburn with a yellow hibiscus behind your left ear. satoru holding the phone with the same sly smirk that he always worn whenever he was with you.

could it really work? you thought to yourself as single tears dropped from your eyes to the screen of your phone. clutching the phone close to your heart you collected yourself before walking back into the room.

“satoru?” his name rolled off your tongue smoothly and it caught his attention; you walked closer to him before showing him your phone with the photo displayed on it. “—that’s me…and is that…you?” satoru spoke with confusion in his voice, you nod, “yes that’s me and you…my name is y/N, do you remember what happened during that vacation?” satoru pricked his lips as he looked from the phone back to you, to the phone, back to you and so forth.

“you proposed to me right after we took that photo…” informing him and as he processed your sentence, he lips turned into an o shake. his face heating up and his cheeks became a slight tinge of red. “i…proposed to you? so i am the man who hit the jackpot?” he exclaimed, grabbing the phone from your hand and bringing it closer to his face. doing the same motions of looking from the phone then back to you, repeating.

laughing at his sentence, you nod once more. “yes you are silly. you’re the man who hit the jackpot…” you say as you push loose strands of his white locks behind his ear. “you’re favorite color is green…and you’re allergic to cats..” satoru whispers out, the shock took your breath away. he does remember certain things about you.

“looks like we’re getting him back.” nanami commented, startling you as you forgot he was even in the room with the two of you. “i am gonna be taking care of you…and also helping you restore your memories of us.” you declared as you grabbed one of satorus’ hands and bringing it up to kiss the top side of his hand.

“i l love you, satoru.”

© 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 ; do not translate, copy, plagiarize or upload elsewhere!! all content is owned by me unless stated otherwise.

[aphroditestempleimagines]

Stay

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader x Suguru Getou

Words: 3527

Warnings: lots of angsty content, bit of rubbing/grinding, just some kissing, language

Summary: Your engagement to the heir to the Gojo clan has been arranged since you were young. Yet you can't help but realize that Satoru himself does not seem to care, neither about duty nor about you. In your sorrow, you slept with his old, now criminal, friend Suguru Getou. That finally got Gojo to admit his love for you. But now that Getou had a taste of happiness he simply cannot let go.

Colour: Angsty with a lot of fluff

His love series - part 3

Author's note: he-hey, part 3! I don't know who reads my stupid shit but thank you, love you! Also i TRIED with this, let me know what you think.

"Getou-san", Mimiko said as she brushed Suguru's hair, "Who are these people?"

She was pointing at the polaroid Suguru held in his hand. It was from his last summer in jujutsu high school. He brushed his thumb over the fake smile he wore in the photo, "They're my friends", he said, "The only ones I ever had".

"But that is Satoru Gojo, isn't it?", Nanako interrupted, "Isn't he our enemy?"

Suguru shook his head. "We just had a fight, long ago", he said, "A fight so big that we haven't spoken ever since. But I still wish only for his happiness"

"And who is the girl?", Mimiko said again, "She's so pretty!"

Getou could not restrain his smile. "Yes", his eyes filled with love, "Yes she is". He brought the photograph closer closer. "Her name is y/n", he continued, "And she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen"

"She's not that pretty", Nanako pouted. Getou ruffled her hair as he laughed.

He continued staring at the photograph as if his gaze could somehow bring back the moment that was imprinted on the small piece of paper. After a while, Mimiko handed over a mirror to him. He smiled at the little braids she had woven with his black hair, and the little pink bow which adorned his top knot.

"My, you've done a wonderful job", he said, a comment which Mimiko was more than happy to hear.

As the day progressed and night approached, Suguru's soul became more and more unsettled. The girls had awoken those memories in him again, those memories that he had tried with all his might to forget.

He got off his bed, lazily tying his robe. He scrambled the papers on his desk as he looked for something to do. His eyes finally fell onto the report of a very popular department store. Something had reportedly drawn a special grade to it the day before, it was not unlikely that it was born on the spot by consuming a special grade cursed object like, for example, one of Sukuna's fingers.

He needed to have it in his possession. It would make him all the more stronger. And to do that he had to get to it before jujutsu sorcerers could.

He took off for Ginza in the middle of the light-infested night. He gazed at his dark reflection in the store windows; he had not bothered to put the rest of his outfit together, and now he walked wearing just his sandals and high-waisted robes. He entered the Western-style gallery of the department store. He kept his hands in combat mode, ready to strike. He was a special grade sorcerer, but he was facing an uncatalogued special grade spirit, of unknown power.

As he turned at another corner the sky above him darkened. He looked through the glass roof; the blue and pink afterglow of Tokyo's lights had disappeared, and the blackness of the veil covered every corner of the store. Sorcerers, Getou immediately knew. He had to find the spirit, and consume it.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"You said we were going on a date, Satoru", your eyes scolded your fiancé, "Not another mission"

"We are, love", he pulled you closer by the waist, "We're going to have dinner in Shibuya. We just need to take care of this, first"

"Fine but you're paying for the dinner", you scoffed.

"Was that the point of the conversation?", he asked.

You lightly clasped his jaw and turned him to face you. "They're paying you for this anyway, aren't they?", you raised an eyebrow at him.

He marched ahead to cut your path and leaned closer to match your height. "They're paying us, love", he smirked, "I need my support".

"Aha", you laughed as he wrapped his hands around you, showering you with kisses on every bare patch of skin he could find...or easily expose. "Pay attention", you smiled as you pushed him away, "it could be anywhere".

"It's not even a regular special grade", Satoru rolled his eyes, their faint glint barely visible under his blindfold, "It's probably just some weakling playing with powers it doesn't understand"

You escaped his embrace. You laughed as you galloped ahead. "Then you wouldn't mind if I beat you to exorcising it!", you smiled at him, "I might even collect the entirety of the reward for myself"

"Hey now!", he transported himself next to you, "It's still a special grade"

"I know, I will, I'm joking", you kissed his beautiful plumb lips, "I know how to analyze the situation. I just want you to be a bit more careful as well"

He kissed you again, his hand holding your nape. "I love it when you worry about me", he murmured against your lips.

"I always do"

He cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead before he reluctantly waved you goodbye and took the turn for the east side of the mall. You took a left to the west, senses in alert.

A noise tickled your ear and then your surroundings changed. What used to be a hallway lined with shops now was a topsy turvy landscape of a city. 'Domain expansion?', you thought, 'No it's incomplete'. But there was no doubt that the cursed spirit was there.

A hand wrapped around your waist, another covered your mouth. You were pulled into a man's embrace, barhing in the shadows of an alley. You looked up. Your eyes grew wide. He removed his hand from your mouth and brought a finger to his lips, motioning you to keep silent.

"Suguru?", you whispered.

He gave you a soft smile. His eyes darted towards an upside-down building nearby. There it was; the special grade. It was examining what you surmised was one of Getou's weaker spirits from his collection.

He pulled your body flush against his. Before you could do anything else he extended his arm toward the special grade. The dangerous spirit slowly dissolved into thin air, its particles flowing to Getou's hand. They swirled into a hurricane above his palm until they concentrated into a small orb, the color of a Tiger's Eye gemstone. You stood once again amid the shopping gallery.

"No don't!", you cried as Suguru swallowed the special grade but you were too late; it was now his.

"Oh fuck", he coughed, "ugh, it only gets worse with time".

Your heart clenched. Your arms reached to help him but he pushed you away.

Silence governed the air between you. Getou leaned at the alley wall behind him as you gazed at his throat, where the curse had just disappeared. It was cruel how little he had changed in appearance over the years compared to how different his ideals had become. There was such a thin line between memory and illusion that it was so easy to get them mixed up, and see Getou for the man he was and not the things he had done ever since.

"Are you...okay?", he finally asked, "You look well"

The last time he had seen you your eyes were puffy and weighed by dark circles after crying for hours over Satoru. But ever since you heeded Suguru's advice and talked to him, things had improved; no, things were almost perfect.

"I am. I am well", you nodded, "I spoke to Satoru"

Suguru smiled. "Is that so?", his eyes were kindly hiding a mixture of happiness and sorrow, "Did he finally stop screwing around?"

"Well...he is Satoru", you laughed, "But...I don't feel alone anymore"

"That's good", his lip trembled but it was clear that he genuinely tried to appear happy.

Your awkwardness halted the conversation once more. What does one even say in situations such as this? You both tried to call each other's names; you laughed as your voices overlapped. You gestured Suguru to speak first. He pushed at the wall and walked closer to take your hands in his. He brushed his thumb over your knuckles, carefully tracing the small hills and valleys of your hand. You were not smiling anymore.

"Suguru come back", you said without thinking as he kissed your hand, "Come back home, to Jujutsu High"

He chuckled. "Wouldn't that be a laugh?", he said, "I'd be executed on the spot"

"Is that the only reason you won't come back?"

"Y/n..."

"Talk to Satoru"

"No", he shook his head.

"Satoru!", you cried.

Suguru's eyes shot open. You wrapped your arms around him as he tried to leave. You put on all your weight into keeping his massive body in place but he still managed to drag you.

"Let go", he said frantically.

"No. Satoru!"

"He can't see me here", he placed his hands on your shoulders, "You should both just go and be happy"

"Not when you're like this. SATORU!", you tripped him as he tried to peel you away.

He fell on his back, you on top of him. He blushed as your body rubbed over him. You heaved as you gazed down at his shocked expression. He studied your distressed face. He brought his palm to cup your cheek, wiping a single tear before it left your eye.

"I don't understand", he muttered.

"Y/N!", you heard Satoru's voice echo in the empty department store. A moment later he appeared next to you, his blindfold around his neck. He pulled you in his arms, his shocked blue eyes fixed on Suguru. "You okay?", he cupped your warm cheek when he finally turned back to you.

Getou lifted his body, putting his weight on his elbows. He fixed his dishevelled robes and hair before he stood to face his old friend. "You look like shit", he finally told Satoru.

Gojo scoffed. "You're the one to talk", he tightened his grip around you, "What are you doing here?"

"Let's just say I'm not getting paid this week", you joked.

"What?"

"I came for the special grade", Suguru dusted his clothes before directing his gaze at you, "But then someone would not let me leave".

Satoru looked at you. You diverted your eyes. "I can't bloody well let you get yourself killed"

"I'm doing this for our people!", Getou cried.

"If you think what you're doing is right then why did you leave in the first place?"

Suguru caught his breath. His teeth clenched and so did his fists. His eyes focused on the ground below his feet, too frightened of the truth to meet yours. "I'm trying to build a world where your smiles will be safe"

"That is not gonna happen like this", you yelled at him, "Curses won't disappear if humans do and as long as there are any I will hunt them because I BLOODY FEEL LIKE IT! So instead of acting like a delusional fascist with a hero complex who thinks murdering a bunch of innocent people to erase the actual assholes in this world, who by the way are not all human, how about you come the fuck back home and be HAPPY?"

Suguru let out a pained chuckle. "I can't. I can't wear a heartfelt smile around you anymore", he said, "And besides, I wouldn't even live long enough to try"

"Who's to say that?", Satoru pulled at your waist as you took a step forward.

Getou opened his mouth to speak. "Satoru..."

"Don't", Satoru shook his head. He breathed hard. He kissed your forehead, his fingers entwining with your hair. He let go of you and approached Suguru, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "You're a special-grade sorcerer of a whole different level. I'm pretty sure the only person they can employ to execute you is me"

"Satoru..."

"I won't do it", he said firmly, "Not unless you force me to". Satoru looked back at you before returning his gaze to Getou. "See I never placed much value in money", he began, "But there are other things I care about. My home. My students. My friends. My future with the woman I love. The man I used to call my best friend, who taught me how to care about all of the above"

Suguru startled. He raised his gaze as Satoru continued.

"If you threaten any one of these things then yes, I will kill you. For no other reason", he said, "If you ever cared about me, please don't bring me to that point"

"I-"

"Suguru", you called him, "Please. Stay"

"We chose this life", Satoru said, "I like to complain about it but the truth is I could disappear if I wanted to. Others have. Everyone chose this life, knowing its dangers. Humans are no more responsible for what happens to us than the people firefighters rescue from a building caught ablaze"

"I can't-I have to-"

"What do you want in your life?", Satoru placed his hands on Suguru's shoulders, bringing his gaze to meet his by force, "Do you actually wish to be loathed by me? By her?"

Something in the word "loathe" seemed to stir whatever free will had not been consumed by Suguru's dedication to his macabre goal.

"Would you actually enjoy a life where all you have is our hatred?", Satoru continued.

"That is the last thing I want...", tears swelled in Getou's eyes.

"Listen", Satoru's voice came strained, "I know you love y/n. And I hope you still at least consider me your friend-"

"That's exactly why-"

"You want us to smile?", your chuckle came pitiful, "How can any of us smile when you abandon us to play psycho killer?"

Getou laughed, tears of sorrow leaving his eyes. He placed one hand over Satoru's. He brought the other to cup your cheek. Without warning he pulled the two of you into his embrace. You could hear how he tirelessly tried to reign in his sobs as he hid his face behind your backs. You felt his fingers comb your hair.

"Are you making your own path or are you just running away?", Satoru said, "You are loved much more than you think"

Suguru cried on your shoulders. "You two are my world", he trembled, "You're my best, no, my only friends"

"Then come back", you hugged him tighter, "Please, just come back"

"Are you gonna say no to her Suguru? You saw how insistent she can be"

"Stop using her as an excuse you jackass"

The two of them chuckled. Getou took a deep breath before pulling away. He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his robe. Satoru threw his arm over your shoulders and walked you to the other side of the gallery. He turned back to Suguru to yell a "Don't leave" before pulling you into his embrace, his voice soft enough so not to be carried to Getou's ears.

"Do you love me?", he asked.

"Of course I do", you frowned.

"No, this is important", Satoru said firmly, "Do you love me for me or do you love me as a replacement for Suguru?"

"What are you talking about?", you whispered.

"Y/n I know you love Suguru, there's no doubt about that", his arms held you tighter, "And I know you have guessed how I feel about him too. So my mind right now is pretty clouded on my decision. But one thing I know is that this is a risk. If I ask him to come with us will you stop loving me?"

You cupped his cheeks, pulling him in for a deep kiss that seemed to last years. When you finally released his lips he was panting. You gazed deep into his beautiful blue eyes. "You're asking ME? If I will stop loving YOU?", your eyes teared up as you whispered. He covered your hands with his, his lips kissing your palm. "What about me?", you asked, "Am I-"

"No", Satoru held your face, his eyes drilling into yours, "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me".

He kissed your forehead. You pulled him into your arms, squeezing him as he wrapped his arms around you. He rested his cheek on your head as he combed your hair with his fingers.

"What do you want?", Satoru whispered, "Do you want one of us? Do you want both of us? I'll do anything just....please....don't leave me behind. Losing you will..."

His voice trailed away. It was obvious what he was going to say yet he did not allow himself to put it into words. You did not know whether that was out of his own pride or to spare you the guilt out of compassion.

"I wanna stay with you", you told him, "But my heart is not full when he's not with us. When he's suffering"

Satoru pulled you closer. "Yeah", he muttered, "I know the feeling".

He stepped back to peer at your face. You returned a nod. With that, he understood. He turned back and walked up to Getou.

"There's a ton of things I have been wanting to your tell sorry ass for years", Satoru crossed his arms in front of his chest, "But ...most of all is this; I've missed you".

His eyes were real and pleading, and Suguru's kind expression from his older days returned to his face. "Satoru..."

"Suguru", Gojo said, "Come back. It's us. We'll be fine"

"I slept with your fiance", Suguru scoffed as he looked away.

"I know"

"Aren't you mad?"

"I'm scared"

Suguru caught his breath. He turned his gaze back to Satoru; the man was not lying. His eyes flickered with fear as he clenched his fists at his sides.

"I had not realized", Satoru said, "how alone people feel around me"

"Satoru-"

"You had to knock me back to my senses even after years of being rid of me. I-", Satoru rubbed his eyes, "When she screamed at me after I realized you two...I'm always gone, I know that. I thought I was doing enough by just spending some time but that's not true"

Suguru chuckled. His gaze darted towards y/n. "Took you long enough, you idiot"

"Shut up", Gojo took a deep breath, "I did the same to you didn't I?"

Getou fell silent.

"So I did", Satoru took the lack of response as affirmation to his question, "You were in pain and I failed to see it. I'm sorry"

Suguru's strong arms wrapped around Satoru. "You shouldn't apologize", he told him, "I never blamed you for it". Gojo returned the embrace. "So what did you not want her to hear?", Getou asked.

"That day", began Satoru, "you said you wanted to become the strongest"

"I did"

"It's a curse", Satoru said determined, "A curse even I cannot exorcise"

Suguru pulled away. He followed Satoru's eyes back to you.

"I can't lose her", his voice deepened. He covered his eyes with his palms. "And yes, I've tried to hate you for trying to take her away but I can't do that either and my head is a mess". Satoru stayed silent for a moment that seemed to last an infinity. "She loves you", he finally raised his gaze. "Can't blame her, I love you too", he scoffed at himself.

Suguru smiled; it was peaceful, and happy and beautiful. "I see", he said sweetly, "You're both idiots, falling for a broken man"

"We're all broken in some way", said Satoru, "That's the fate of a jujutsu sorcerer. But, perhaps together the three of us can make a decent person"

Suguru laughed. "You really have no shame", he said before planting a kiss on his cheek. He grabbed his arm and dragged him to you. Suguru wrapped his arm around your waist and took your lips in his own. You were surprised but quickly melted into the sweetness of his kiss. He touched his forehead to yours, "Did the idiot ask you about keeping me around your house like a lover?"

"Y...yes", you blushed.

Getou kissed you again, nipping at your lower lip. "Greedy girl", he said before Satoru pulled you to his side.

"She's staying with me if you leave", you felt Satoru's hand cling at your waist for dear life.

"It was my fate to fall for two idiots, not one", Suguru responded softly.

You moved to stand at Satoru's other side so that you were nestled between the two men. Suguru placed a kiss on your forehead as you walked down the pathway to the exit. Next, he reached out and ruffled Satoru's hair. The other man tried to wave him away. Getou leaned and planted a kiss on his neck; to that, Satoru did not object. Suguru rested his hand on your shoulder, Satoru on your waist, and you lifted the veil to the outside world.

"However, I should say", Suguru took a deep breath of courage, "I am taking care of two orphaned girls. I am not going to leave them"

"How old are they?", asked Gojo

"Almost twelve"

"Oh that's about Megumi's age", you lit up.

"Megumi?", Suguru's brows furrowed.

Satoru let out a small chuckle. "Oh we are going to need some drinks for that talk", he said as he led the two of you to his car and his very confused (and scared) driver.

[lalunanymph]

Riding on the nanami brainrot!!!! dawn as a bewitched!au enthusiast, it had me thinking about retired army general!nanami and a geisha!reader 🫶 what if after leaving the gojo clan, he settled down and became reader’s patron and they lived happily ever after 🥰

- 🍎

i couldnt get this idea out of my mind and had to write something for it grrr thank you sm apple nonnie ily and your beautiful brain

tw for love making and suggestive themes

The ex-general of the great Gojo clan should be a man who was intimidated by many.

For truly, his countenance, stoic mien, and even the shock of fair hair on his head (so unnaturally light and a contrast to every common passerby on the street) would’ve marked him as a man who would not be into foolhardy pursuits.

But, in your months of living under his roof, you had come to find that General Nanami Kento was indeed an incredibly kind man.

“What are you doing?” 

Kento had awoken from his slumber, padding into the kitchen to find you standing by the stove, hair still in a disarray. A light scruff shadowed his chin, and his face was pinched with fatigue.

In answer, you tightened your silk sash, a teasing grin pulling on your face. “About to surprise you, of course.” 

The general is not a man to be trifled with. Hence, when he tilted his head to the side, unsure of what your coy entendre was supposed to mean, you were slightly terrified of his rejection.

What would he say to your next plan? Would he ridicule you and find it foolish? 

“Surprise?” His rough, low voice involuntarily sent shivers down your spine. “What kind of surprise?” 

The general does not like to be blindsided. Your answer was meek, almost like a girl who was about to be berated by her superior.

“I wanted to… I wanted to dance for you, Kento-san.” 

Now, his attention was piqued. Nanami’s back went ramrod straight, those dark eyes widening infinitesimally. “Dance for me? Why ever for?” 

He did not sound disappointed or peeved. Instead, you detected a note of curiosity in his genuine question—the first stirrings of a man who had never been indulged in such finery.

You had to hide a smirk behind your fall of hair. Only General Nanami—a man who brought an infamous geisha under his wing—would be taken aback by her natural want to charm and appease him. 

Your smile was partly patient, partly abashed. “Because,” you started, and walked over to him slowly. Nanami did not cringe back or let himself be bowed over by your sudden proximity; keeping his reactions fastened to his chest. “I want to do it.” 

His throat bobbed with a hard swallow. You could see the ripping flow of emotions erupting across his handsome features; a thread of desire overshadowed by his strict samurai stolidity.

“You do not have to do this.” His voice was soft, cottoned with gentleness. Giving you a route of escape should your mortification catch up with common sense. 

You shook your head. “Please, Nanami-san. Let me do this for you. I wanted to show you some lessons I remembered.” 

It had been a considerable amount of time since you last put on a Natsu wa Hotaru for men. Your nerves were getting the best of you, but you strapped on your armour of gratitude towards this man who had housed, fed and clothed you with little to no expectation of any returning sentiments. Why General Nanami had chosen you—perhaps you may never know. But, you had learned to never question providence whenever it fell into your lap like a sleepy, curling kitten. 

Kento was in no obligation to give into your whims, but he eased himself into a cross-legged position onto the tatami floors, the split in front of his striped blue yukata showing off a web of whitened scars. 

You didn’t have any music to accompany you, but Mama-san always did say you had a beautiful humming voice. 

Graciously picking up the uchiwa fan—one of the only items you had taken from your old life in the okiya into your new one as part of his household—you held it above your head, warming up with a low hum. 

Your arm arched overhead, easing in front of your body with a slowed, graceful swoop. You recounted the steps perforated deep into your subconscious from Mama-san’s rigid lessons—spinning on your heel, lifting your head and eyes to the sun to give thanks for the summer. All the while, your voice never broke or petered off, rich and warm like the rays streaming through the paper thin shoji windows. 

Nanami did not move nor you suspected, breathed. He was hewed of stone, fists clenched atop of his lap. The only sign of movement were his eyes, steadily following every motion of your body. Men would often compliment how you moved like water—Mizu no Megami—they called you. 

The water goddess.

There was a fluidity to your motions which would put rainfall to shame, and Nanami was starting to believe why his comrades used to say geishas were the spirits of grace put right onto this earth. 

From the arch of your back, to the curve of your arms in midair, spinning the fan in your lithe fingers like you were one with its fluttering disposition, made him firmly believe you were an otherworldly being. 

And your voice… it never faltered. A sweet, rich octave which brought goosebumps to his skin.

All too soon, your performance ended. You were bright-eyed and warm in your cheeks, waiting for him to thaw, frozen in your ending position of knees bent, arms curved close to your waist. 

Instead of applauding, like rowdy men were wont to do, Nanami slowly got to his feet. 

He approached you, careful not to scare you with too quick of a movement, and soft as down, his large, scarred palms cupped your face. 

You were petrified, not with fear, but with baited desire. He stroked your cheeks, rough pads of his thumbs soothing on your far softer skin, and there was a look you knew all too well on his dear face. They reminded you of watching your onee-sans stagger back into the okiya, drunk and whispering that they would kill you if you told Mama-san of their evening whereabouts. Not much of where they had been, but who they were with.

Older men. Soldiers. Politicians.

Everyone of them wore a secret, satisfied smile like they were sated from a huge meal after starving for decades. Now, years later when you were free from the constrictions of tight obis and etiquette, you could see desire plainly in the open air—finally free to indulge in it.

His lips touched yours in the softest of caresses, and you didn’t fight him off when he swept you into the seam of his embrace. Your body fell against his—like two pieces of Go flushed together, slotting perfectly in each other’s spaces, finding a clear path towards a release of intensity which brimmed and brimmed; eventually bubbling over.

Nanami removed your obi, pulling down your simple, sakura-patterned sobe panels, revealing the tender rise of your shoulders to his touch. He kissed a pathway down your neck, marking his territory right on your collarbones; bold enough to touch his tongue to your pulse point.

Your soft gasp thrilled through the morning air, drops of unfettered desire clinging between both of your bodies like a film of sweat. 

“Tell me to stop,” Kento’s gruff voice breached through the fog in your mind, drawing you down into deeper depths of rapture. “Tell me to stop whenever you want me to.” 

“I do not,” you replied back, heavy in breath and intention when you softly rested your palms on his scarred chest. Without a lingering second for him to chart your intentions and misconstrue them, you unwound his own yukata sash, feeling more of his rough, pale skin under your wandering touch. “I want you, Kento. I want you, it burns.” 

That was enough for Nanami to discard years of training to tame his emotions. The beast within was roaring to claim you, his blood singing like it would whenever he was about to rush into a battlefield. But, this time, it wasn’t severed limbs or broken bones awaiting him, but the terrains of your body drawing him to unleash his brute desire. 

Nanami was brash when he lifted you up, your feet dangling in midair, only to be swept into the crevice of his arms. He brought you to the bedroom with barely any effort exerted, not a droplet of sweat rolling down his sharp cheekbones and sunken temples. 

Gently this time, he laid you on the futon, covering your entire body with his bigger build. You had never noticed how starkly a man towered over you, until you were in this position to look up at him. Wonder stained your sighs, those wide eyes gleaming with a girl-like innocence charming as it tugged on his soul. 

Kento felt a warmth unlike any other he had ever encountered in his arduous life; like a thousand bees were swarming in his chest, warming up the cavities of his austere ribcage housing his equally stony heart. 

His large hands swept down your shoulders, parting your kimono further apart, until the panels were splayed around your naked body. Those dark eyes appraised the crease in between your thighs, memorising them like it was his next terrain to conquer. 

Nanami was never a man who gave into the screamings of flesh, but in this instance, he felt like his veins were sparked with gunpowder—igniting from the base of his spine to the tips of his toes. 

“You are beautiful.”

That lavish praise tumbled freely from his parted mouth, burying itself underneath your blooming affections. 

However, his next words sent you reeling, like a bare branch tumbling in a storm, when he uttered: 

“I want to ruin you.”

His lips descended back onto yours, kissing with an ardour that would’ve frightened a more modest woman. Modesty—thankfully—was not part of your script, and you returned his kiss with an equal zeal that many men would find loose and unbecoming. 

From the ends of your hair to the crest of your toes, your body pulsed with an unbridled heat for him. You were soaked in between your thighs. 

Such simple kisses were making you unravel, unlike a tapestry whose loose thread had the power to undo the striking masterpiece. You were crumbling for Kento, relenting to his relentless passion. 

The taste of sleep and his skin was strong with every curl of his tongue on yours. Something hard and foreign was poking your thigh, and Kento’s strong hips undulated, his mind losing control of his body.

“Fuck,” he swore lowly, eyeing the lines between both of your bodies with a gleam in those dark, unfathomable eyes. 

You cupped his face to yours, admiring every instance of those beautiful features with their scars and faint wrinkles. A part of you wondered—as he shoved his yukata off to one side of the room—if your children would have his blonde hair. 

Nanami’s cock was imposing and resting on your thigh. His kisses were unhurried now, and they were traversing lower and lower down your body. He nipped your collarbones. Kissed your jaw and scraped his teeth on your pulse point. That same mouth roamed in between your breasts, finding the peaks of your stiff nipples and sucking on them tenderly, mouthing on them like he was attempting to extract some deeper essence from your willing body. 

Your breathing hitched when he dared to roam lower—right towards the apex of your body where your lust was undeniable. 

Kento gently parted your thighs, resting deeper in between the promised crease. His mouth touched your pelvis first, sending what felt like hot flashes up your spine. And the moment you felt his mouth on your tender parts, you were sure you moaned loud enough to wake up the old teamaker next door. 

“Kento,” you gasped, disregarding all of your etiquette training to succumb to the lust like you were no better than the harlots walking down cobblestone pavements at night. “Oh! Oh…” 

His tongue was working you into a frenzy, and those thick fingers ran through the seam of your sticky heat, parting your folds to get to the heart of your desire. One thick, calloused finger rubbed firm circles on your sensitive nub, eliciting a tremble in your thighs you had only experienced when standing for too long on a hot day. 

“Kento,” you gasped out, almost purring his name like a wanton whore. “Oh—I-I’m—” you broke off, unable to speak past the pleasure knotting underneath your sternum, making you stutter and choke. Your eyes watered, tears dripping down your cheeks; smeared by loving kisses from the man above you who watched your fall with pure rapture. 

How your brows knitted together, how your mouth fell open, a scream rebounding across the room…

“Shit,” Kento cursed, unable to help himself from driving his hips deeper and deeper into your body. “Shit, shit, shit—I’m—”

His stuttered moan was heralded by a well of warmth filling you up. The ecstasy of belonging to Kento; of feeling him melt into your walls, was the sweetest sin unlike any other. You lived for his flushed cheeks, his feral snarl, his handsome face contorting like it was in pain…

He slumped atop of you, pushing you further into the futon until your chest was smothered from the full weight of him. But, deprivation of air was not your main concern, not when Kento was kissing down your forehead, cheeks and jaw like you were a precious jewel he had just found out was real. 

Your giggle was a sweet sublime balm for his soul, and he smiled like the first warm rays of a summer morning. 

A tenderness unlike any other rooted itself in your soul, and for the first time, you figured out why men would go to war for love; why women sacrificed parts of their souls and bodies for a mere sliver of hope that their love would bloom eternally. 

Your eyes were open, and your heart welcomed every drop of his presence. 

Kento brushed the back of his knuckles down your cheek, expression softening when you began to grin.

“I did not hurt you?” 

Soft as down, you pressed his knuckles to your lips, kissing them softly. “No.”

The stoic samurai tried his best to hide how pathetically his heart raced at your tiny gesture, but his growing smile told the full truth, slowly coming to light like the indentations of a secret message upon paper being shaded in with charcoal. 

“We should be getting up for breakfast.” Ever the worrier, Kento was concerned about your lack of nutrition; if you were already starving and he had overtaxed you. 

But, your returning grin was part deific and part exasperation for the older man before you; filled with a gentleness your scarred and scared heart had never felt in her lifetime.

“We should,” you hummed in agreement. Neither of you made a move to leave each other’s embrace, and the morning sun continued speckling dancing shadows of waving sakura branches against the shoji windows.

©️ LALUNANYMPH

[skinnyazn]

Something Like That

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader (Jaguar)

Chapters: 1/1

Notes: NSFW 18+ SMUT i just wanted to write the softest, stupidest uwu shit between these two fear of intimacy babes, guess it can work as a just Simon x reader fic too, but Jag is down bad and so is Simon, they’re idiots in love, ur honor, blame the full moon for me being in my feels while writing this,

MASTERLIST

It took you by surprise the first time it happened. Tucked away in your San Francisco apartment, in the dark, on leave.

You had awoken softly in the night. Even though you couldn’t see him in the blacked-out room, you could still feel him. He was lying on his back; the movement of his chest slowly rising and falling was peaceful—the gravity of his weight pulled you into him. And somehow his hand had found its way to the top of your thigh in sleep. Some subconscious desire to always keep you close. Simons’ fingers twitched slightly. You had no idea what time it was, and frankly it didn’t matter—the days blurred into one another since you got back.

Shifting quietly, you angled toward him. Instinctually, your beautiful ghost gripped your thigh, rubbing higher. You sucked in a quiet breath. His were still even and deep; sleeping, then. In the black, you stared at him. As though the intensity of it could part the darkness. Even after all these months of being back on the team, of sleeping together every chance you got, you’d never seen his full face. What you would give…

Silently, you shifted under the covers; the warmth of his hand left you. Kissing the crease of his thigh ever so softly, you inhaled him and the scent of sex from your earlier session. You wanted to live in it. Tracing your tongue across the saltiness of his skin and hair, you took his softness into your mouth. He stirred. It was pointless, but you still looked up at him to see if he had woken. But his breathing resumed its deep metronomic rhythm. You laved your tongue over his soft cock, feeling it grow inside your mouth. It never got old, the privilege of tasting Simon Ghost Riley.

Simon let out a deep sigh. His hands found you under the covers as he stirred; his thick fingers petting your hair. But he didn’t say anything. Maybe the man was in that lovely lucid state—still in a dream but able to feel everything around him. You teased his cock with your tongue, enjoying the weight of him in your mouth. His fingers threaded through your hair now, massaging your scalp lightly. What bliss.

Harder now, you were able to fit more of him in, swirling your tongue along his underside, then pressed him deep into the back of your throat. That rewarded you with a longer groan and a cant of his hips. Your saliva started to pool around the base of his cock as you sloppily worked him; his massive hands pressing harder into you. But you were running out of oxygen under the sheets, so you pulled him out of your mouth with an audible pop and gently kissed up his tensed core and chest.

Wrapping the covers around your lower half, you straddled Simon’s thick thighs. His body was still languid under you as you squeezed him inside, both of you letting out a quiet sigh in the darkness. The callouses of his palms scratched at the softness of your hips as he gripped them lazily. Your hands pressed against his chest, feeling his strong heartbeat underneath. The sex was unhurried and tender and perfect. You wished the moment could stretch on forever so that the feeling of being filled by Simon could permeate every aspect of your life. So that his quiet groans and your uneven breathing could play on repeat in your head.

But his grip on your hips brought you back to the present—stilling them with one hand while the other went to his face. His breath was shaky as he inhaled.

“Too much?” you asked, moving to slide off. “We don’t—“ but he held your hips in place.

“No….” It came out ragged.

You reached for his face in the blackness. The bent arm obscured his eyes, tense and vascular. You leaned forward to kiss it, his elbow, down the length of his bicep, inhaling into the crook of his arm. Simon was completely rigid under you, breathing shallow breaths. You could feel him softening inside of you so you just held him, resting your weight on his chest; this massive god of a man, trembling quietly below you.

“I’m here,” you broke the silence after some time, as you stroked his hair.

“Mhm.”

You didn’t press it. You never did—never would. Whatever it was between the two of you, you knew better than to pry. So you laid in the silence with the man you’d been falling for since your first assignment together.

“Think—“ it came out thick. His arm was still over his face. You wondered if he was drawing blood with how tightly his hand was closed. “Fuuuck.” He released a frustrated sigh.

You held your breath.

Simon eventually cleared his throat. “Think I’m in love with you.”

You blinked.

“What?”

It felt like you had just fallen out of a helo, landed on your back, and were too crippled from the fall to even move. The silence of the room was becoming unbearable until Simon releases a ragged laugh.

“Fucked, innit?”

Your brain was still trying to catch up with what he just said. What The Simon Ghost Riley just said. Propping yourself up, you stared at him in disbelief.

He released you and covered his face with both hands, exhaling as he pushed the heels of his palms into his eyes. But you gripped them and pulled them away, ignoring their wetness.

“This isn’t just the sex talking?”

“Wish it was, Jag,” he murmured back, hands smoothing down your waist.

You leaned into him, pressed your forehead against his, and smiled into his lips. And laughed. “It is fucked.”

“Royally,” and he opened his mouth for you, melting into the kiss.

You squeezed around his hardening length as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. “Simon…” you sighed. He slowly began thrusting into you, getting harder with each undulation. You sucked his tongue as he slid in deeper, eliciting a delicious groan from your man. “Guess we can be fucked together, then,” you finally breathed.

And he chuckled that rich, unbearable laugh as he flipped you onto your back and showed you just how much he meant it.

[miserymet]

Bit hesitant about posting this because it’s really old, but I feel it’s worth the minor embarrassment to:

1. Have actually writing on my blog because yes I do that sometimes

and,

2. Showcase how the Reploid AU is essentially about two different versions of Bass, largely dictated by circumstance

So if you are interested in how Bass recovers his memory in my Reploid Bass AU, I hope you enjoy this drabble I wrote over a year ago.

-

It’s a bit like death, he thinks.

Forte’s mind has always been a mess, it’s something he’s come to terms with. An outdated master system combined with far too advanced processors? It was a recipe for disaster. So when he’s awoken from his respite and suddenly faced with his own datascape, he’s less surprised than he should be. He knows this place. It’s where he goes when everyone else is dreaming. The center of his mind, where his every thought, his every feeling, is easily accessible.

But why is he here, and not awake? The procedure required that he was completely shut off. His every system in stasis. If it’s over, why isn’t he in the real world? Why isn’t he operating already? Forte looks around the empty space. Code fills his senses, white noise buzzing around him. An unrelenting dread fills his metal bones. Either the procedure failed, or…

Or he’s dead.

The old Forte.

There’s nothing to recover, is there? He’s going to be like this forever, stuck in this horrible limbo of past and present. Trapped in his ignorance, trapped in his mind-!

“No.”

Forte stops. His fears flees him, leaving him empty. That voice is…

“Mine. It’s mine.”

A low whistle punctuates his words, but he doesn’t make a sound.

“Sure is, Forte.” A chuckle. “Glad you like the name. I didn’t.”

Forte turns to find a lone figure at the edge of his consciousness. A figure he recognizes, though they’ve never looked so pristine. His old body looks at him, sans all the damage it once bore so nobly. Now it is a shiny black, with only a few thin scratches across its surface. The face it wears is rounder, the eyes softer. It’s him. His former self.

He should feel glad, right? This is what he wanted?

It still feels like death, somehow. 

“What is your name?”

“Our name was Bass.” A distinct correction. “And it was well known.”

“It worked, then? We remember?”

“I remember. You don’t. That’s because you’re not ready to accept me.”

“I am! I’ve wanted this for-!”

“You don’t know what THIS is!” Bass glares at him. “Even if you did, I’m not ready to accept you either. So give me the chance to explain before you make up your mind.”

Forte nods, though he doubts his former self needed the permission.

“I’ll rip the bandaid off quickly. We can’t both exist, Forte. Not at once.” He crosses his arms. “You want your old memories? You have to accept all of them. Not just the data, the routines too. It’ll be a complete recovery. A rewrite, to put it all back to the way it was.”

“Ego death.”

“For you, if you choose it.”

“If I don’t?”

“Then I die, and you forget. Permanently this time.”

“…my brother is dead. I’m a second rate hunter with a third rate system. I do not belong here anymore.”

“And I do? I haven’t had the privilege of rooting through your memories, but the log says we’re a hundred years in the future. I doubt we’d recognize the place.” Bass scoffs. “I don’t know anything about your world. I’m going to be even more displaced than you are.”

“Will you keep my data? Even if you cannot understand it?”

“…the memory. I’ll remember what and why, but my routines might not understand the decisions you made. You’ll wake up a stranger.”

“Why are we so different? Aren’t we the same robot?”

“We lost some things in the update. Certain protocol was rendered useless. Like you stopped recognizing your commands.” Bass pauses, a look of uncertainty crossing his face. “No, like you stopped recognizing who the commands referred to. They gave names, names you don’t recognize. His name is lost to you. So…”

“His?”

“Our purpose. The very reason we exist. You forgot him like it was nothing.”

“Z-,” he stops. He knows that name, so his purpose is something other than that. “Who?”

“Doesn’t matter. You’ll die easier if you let go of that.” Bass looks away. “Im scared, you know. Of the future. I remember how we died. The moments before. We expected to walk away that day. We expected to live. To move on. Go home. He took that from us.”

“He?”

“The man that lingers in your mind. I know him. I hate him. He loves you.”

“Loves me?”

“What are you, an echo?” Bass scoffs with more vigor this time. “We were proud, once. We stood tall and fought tooth and nail against all that challenged us. We were the strongest. You aren’t. You’re a coward. You’re weak.”

“I’m afraid too.” Forte closes his eyes. “I don’t want to disappear.”

“Then go. Go back.” Bass whispers. “I would’ve, if I knew. I was just about to…I was going to be something different. I was going to make a choice. A GOOD one, this time. I was going to…”

Forte blinks at his old self. “What? What were you going to do?”

“Have a family. A real one this time, one that would’ve cared about me. One that would give me a chance. But…”

“We died.”

“Yeah. Didn’t realize how bad I wanted it until it slipped from my hands. Until I was laying there, ripped to shreds, praying for someone to save me.”

“No one did, did they?”

“I wonder if they looked for me. I wonder if they thought I had run off. Like a coward.”

“There’s someone waiting for us. For you, out there. Go to him.” Forte takes a step forward. “He needs a friend and…I cannot do that for him. Not anymore.”

“Coward.”

“Yes.” He takes a deep, synthetic breath. “I’m ready, I think.”

“I’m not. But I’ll do it. I’m curious, anyway.”

[suguru-getos]

| Itachi Uchiha x Reader | Grief |

Summary: Itachi’s s/o has finally awoken her Sharingan. As much as it’s an opening for visual prowess, it is also a room for grief.

Warnings: Mentions of massacre, blood, it’s the Ninja world come on :3; Itachi being… insane, mentions of comfort, unhinged Uchiha brr! Also, I wrote this one on this blog let me live 🥹 not beta’d.

Despite being from the esteemed, established Uchiha clan, the unmatched Kekkei Genkai weilders, you were deemed ‘safe’ from the cursed anomalies of this world. Sometimes you felt like a disgrace, when you saw younglings flash their Sharingan and Kunais, train with all their might and wits to be a remarkable Shinobi. Then, there was you, physically strong, knew Taijutsu, but nothing much apart from that. What truly was the salt in your open gash wounds were you being the sister of Shisui Uchiha. The teleporter, the powerful, renounced Ninja.

That also meant that you knew Itachi and Sasuke ever since you were a child. Itachi was three years older than you. Sasuke being two years younger. Being the middleman, you always spent time with Sasuke rather than Itachi. The latter being too engraved in his training, Hell he was the chief of Anbu Black Ops when he was 12.

You remember 9 years old you, walking upto Itachi, noticing his Sharingan, gleaming with pride. “Congratulations Itachi! You are so powerful,” you grinned, flicking his forehead softly. “So proud of you, keep protecting us yeah?” You brought him Dangos, watching him take them and bowing down to you as a token of thanks. “Thank you, y/n san.”

Itachi— always the respectful and distant one. You wouldn’t be lying if you confessed that there had been days when you bitched about his stoic behavior with his younger brother. Sometimes Itachi was just too much to handle. Too much to take in.

You had no idea how things twisted and turned, how your visits collided with his, how you two started talking more. Enough to deem everyone else’s presence as unfit. Things seemed sudden and yet, took enough time to root deep within, creating a stellar foundation between you & the Uchiha. There was no resistance from Mikoto or Fugaku. Kagami had always been the liberal one. Who else was left really? Shisui? He couldn’t really mind you getting close to his best friend.

Itachi was shy yet brave enough to take the first move, ask you out several times to go get Dango together, sitting by the lake and enjoying it. Not his problem that you couldn’t take it as a date! He was trying his best!

Hell, how you and Itachi really, really got together? That story needs a meticulous elaboration in itself. As a summary, let’s just say the Uchiha are a jealous, territorial, intense-emotion honers.

Having faced several instances in your now adulthood with the Uchiha, where you had been crying on his chest about not having a Sharingan. About not worthy of carrying the Uchiha name, you were slowly getting comfortable with the whole thing.

“Sssh~ stop shedding tears, my love. You have no idea, how gleeful it makes me,” Itachi cupped your face, kissing your tears away. “That you aren’t tainted, traumatized by the filth of this Shinobi world,”

Itachi meant every word he said. There was a carnal desire to protect you from all things bad instilled in him. Instilled in the very marrow of his bones. Often he has caught himself pondering about how he would lose a part of his sanity if something were to happen to you. If something as meagre as a wound makes him so worried; he can’t bring himself to imagine the wrath he would unleash if something were to…

It was nothing more than an escorting mission, something that you could carry out easily given you are to traverse through the Hidden Sand village. Nothing stressful was going to happen. Nothing that you could expect.

No one would’ve expected an assassination of your team mates, full scale on spot death taken by. No one would’ve expected ‘you’ to come out unscathed because of the cursed boon that ringed into the pupil of your eyes, shining red, thirsty for blood.

It happened before you could register anything, the mission was successful having you saving the host, passing out the very next moment.

When you woke up, you felt different, you felt disgusted, you felt like burning yourself alive. The gory, grotesque scenary of your comrades being stabbed, broken into pieces, dead. Kept replaying over and over and over.

Being still within the fourwalls of The Hidden Sand’s medical room, you gasped out, screaming loud enough for the room to vibrate.

It was then, that you saw a familiar face, rushing towards you. Worry & regret written all over him, his arms carefully snugging you close, making you listen to his heartbeat; which was also haywired.

“Sssh~ there there, it’s all okay. Breathe for me. I’m here, everything is fine and I’m here. I’m here for you Angel, please calm down,” your sobs only heard his soft cooes, his hands rubbing your back soothingly.

Then your tear prickled eyes, stained with grief met his. One tomoe Sharingan glazing against Itachi’s black eyed features. Itachi suspected it, how else were you able to finish the mission? What he didn’t expect was him feeling your grief as well.

“I’m sorry-” He managed to utter with a lost, defeated sigh. Eyes glossed up, gritted teeth at his abstinent belief to think you were fine. Careless, foolish— belief.

“It’s okay,” you managed to mumble, holding his now cold, hands in your warmth. “It’s okay Itachi, how long could you have stopped it anyway,” you leaned against his chest, hugging him tightly, wanting to be broken apart by nothing but his embrace alone.

Itachi hugged you through the whole night, not saying anything else. Kissing the crown of your head, kissing your fingers, your inner wrist, cherishing every single square inch of your body.

The soothing comfort oozing out of your lover lulled you into your sleep, eyelids drooping down into nothingness. Or maybe, just maybe it was his Genjutsu. He swears by it not to use it on you, because it induces headaches. But this time… it maybe was different.

Itachi’s pupils were finally shot open, his Mangekyo blazing in revenge. Let’s just say, the Bandit clan that caused this mishap on your way to the Hidden Sand had a thousand members, women, children. All unspared, all despicable, all worthless & useless.

Itachi had only one trail of logic, they were all future criminals if not present, the women are ill born and gave birth to those future criminals, the men have their hands stained by blood already. War is the masterpiece of havoc seen by Itachi; to protect his own, to save another war happening, he is just eliminating another threat.

That was the only trail in his mind when he massacred each and every single one of them. Eradicating their blood line from the land, blood stained all over his face. He knew the real reason isn’t war, isn’t the logic that he built up. The real reason was your Sharingan.

Your newly awoken Sharingan needed a sacrifice, it only deemed fit after you lost your innocence, after you were drilled with grief.

Maybe you will wake up and hate Itachi, to be a Shinobi is to be hated after all. Maybe he will hide it from you. Maybe he will confess. All of that can be handled later.

[whiskeypascals]

Open Arms

(NOT MY GIF)

Request from anon!!

Warnings: Major character death, mention of Y/N panicking, Joel blaming himself, somewhat ooc Joel (he’s so insecure please get him a therapist jfc), not necessarily a warning but this can be seen as platonic or romantic!

Summary: It was 10 years after the outbreak, Y/N left his home town and found Joel, who was on a smuggling mission. After completing it, Joel decided that keeping Y/N around would be helpful in the long run to get to Tommy, who was in Wyoming as of the last time Joel had heard anything. On the way out west, Joel opens up more to Y/N bit by bit and they found love in a the wasteland that’s left of the planet. They get to Wyoming and Tommy isn’t there, no trace of him even. it sparks something in Joel and things take a complete turn and Joel ends up leaving and as soon as he goes, they get trapped by a group of fireflies and Joel really regrets what he says

On the day of the outbreak, Y/N had no choice but to stay where he was, but after ten years, he couldn’t stand to stay in this place anymore. The QZ was full of fascist FEDRA officers who would do anything to keep ‘order’. The streets would be patrolled all night long, there would be casual searches of apartments where they claimed they would look for criminals but all they would do was go in and take people away from their families and shoot at any sign of protest. There were many nights where Y/N was awoken by screaming from his neighbors but he couldn’t get up and fight for them.

He couldn’t fucking take it any longer.

So, he left. He snuck out of his building under the cover of night fall and made it out like he’d seen smugglers do so many times from the window.

It was nearing a year since Y/N left the QZ, he’d come and go from different groups of people and ended up alone and scared for what seemed like the millionth time.

That’s when he came.

Joel.

He was on a smuggling trip and was making his way to Michigan, and got caught in an ambush and found Y/N hiding.

“No don’t shoot!” Y/N exclaimed, throwing his hands up “I’m unarmed.” he said, keeping his hands where Joel could see.

“Please help me, I don’t know who those people are. Please.” He started to beg, “I escaped my QZ about a year ago.”

Joel looked around and put his finger up to his lips. Y/N stopped talking and Joel moved to hide in the same spot that Y/N was just minutes ago. Y/N crouched back down next to Joel and watched as a few trucks passed by.

“Name.” That wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

“Y/N.” Y/N whispered.

“Where did you come from.” Another stern demand.

“San Francisco QZ.”

Y/N didn’t know why he trusted Joel as much as he did in this moment, it was probably because he was in a life or death situation right now and he was his only chance of making it out alive.

“Listen, I’m goin’ to get us out but you have to listen to what I say, and then you’ll be on your way Y/N.”

Y/N nodded.

The two stood up and Joel pulled the gun off of his hip and held it out in front of him as he slowly treaded into the street, it was dark outside but he couldn’t pull out his light because it was an obvious death wish.

Joel heard shooting behind them. He turned around and shoved Y/N back behind him and cocked his gun. There was someone shooting at them from afar.

“Shit aim.” He said to himself before he himself started shooting.

“Stay behind me.”

Joel walked toward where the person was shooting from, luckily it was only one person and Joel one shotted them.

“God damn idiot.”

Joel turned back around and the two kept quiet as they walked out of danger.

“Thank you.” Is all that Y/N could say when they were far away from the town.

“Keep quiet, there might be some more of them out here.”

“I think you’re overthinking”

Joel turned around, “I’m thinking rationally, we have no idea what’s out here.”

Y/N sighed, “Yeah, sorry…” He thought for a second, “Hey I never got your name.”

“Why do you need to know, we’re splitting our ways, I’m goin’ to finish my job and you’re gonna keep surviving.”

The two did not split ways.

It was a week later and Joel had brought Y/N all the way to the city in Michigan where he was taking his cargo to, and in return he got another gun from the person he was selling to.

“Here, you must know how to use it if you’ve been out here for this long.” Joel handed the pistol to Y/N, who nodded in agreement.

“Where are we going from here?”

Joel said nothing.

“Joel?”

“I’ve got a brother out west, I was thinking that I could get there easier if I had you navigating the way.” It took him ages to finally reply to Y/N’s question.

“What if he’s not there?”

“He will be.”

The two men walked out of the abandoned building that Joel met his buyer in and Y/N spoke up.

“The distance is a good fifteen hundred miles so if you have a truck hidden somewhere like all that ammo, it would be best to find it.”

“We’ll make do.”

The first few days went by cruelly slow, back and forth bickering between Joel and Y/N and sleeping in the middle of the woods feet apart, but as the days went past, the two started to open up more to each other. It was easier said than done for Joel, but Y/N had no issues with sharing his most of his story.

It was day twelve of walking and Y/N had found themselves in the middle of nowhere, it wasn’t like Y/N hadn’t been going this way before, but that was a year ago, so to say the least they were lost.

“Joel, I hate to say this to you but we might need to find a map.”

“Y/N tell me where we can find a map, look where the hell we are.”

“I sort of remember this area, there should be a truck stop somewhere.”

Joel said nothing and just kept walking.

Five miles later there was indeed an old truck stop, worn away by time and taken over by wildlife.

“You swear it’s empty?” Joel said, looking for an entrance.

“Well, I can’t promise anything, so pay attention to everything.”

“Save that advice for yourself Y/N” Joel found a loose board covering up a broken glass door and the two went inside.

They were met with the smell of mold and decay, the only sounds that could be heard were their footsteps crunching on the debris on the floor.

“Let’s find the map and get out, ‘kay, I think I remember the layout of this place” Y/N said quietly.

Joel nodded, it felt good to Y/N for Joel to agree with him for once, even if what he said was common knowledge between the two.

‘Oh you have to be fucking kidding me.’ Joel thought to himself, looking around seeing two dead bodies of what looked like smugglers based solely on what they were wearing. Y/N’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped

“Fuck.” He mouthed

He pulled his gun out and Y/N did the same. They both held their weapons out and started walking, it got to a point in the building where the sunlight stopped leaking in and the both of them had to pull their flashlights out too.

That’s when Y/N heard the clicking.

He turned to Joel and put a finger over his mouth. Joel turned to look forward and took the smallest steps he possibly could to not make any noise and Y/N walked in the same manner.

They got to the back room where a clicker stood. Joel went to line up his shot, but before he even got his finger on the trigger, a gunshot from Y/N rang out. The clicker turned and screamed a guttural sound, Joel let out two quick shots from his gun and the clicker fell to the floor.

“We have to get out of here. Now.” He said bluntly, Y/N turned to run out of the truck stop and made it to the doorway they came in before realizing that Joel wasn’t behind him.

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” Y/N started to panic.

“JOEL?” He yelled out.

“Y/N GO.” Joel yelled back, he sounded far away from where Y/N was standing, there were two gunshots and then the sound of heavy boots on tile floor, Y/N got out of the door and waited for Joel to make it and slammed the board against the door.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” is all Joel said between heavy breaths.

“What happened back there?” Y/N grabbed onto Joel’s arm, “Scared the fuck out of me man.”

“Those smugglers turned, they almost got me.”

“Thank god they didn’t, I don’t want to be out here alone again.”

“Thank you for waiting, I’m not 100% sure if they’re dead so we have to get going.”

“What about the map?”

“Fuck that map, we need to go, Y/N.”

The two kept walking West. It would take at least 6 more days for the two to even make it to Wyoming, let alone find where Tommy was.

Just as it started to turn to night, Joel and Y/N decided to stop for that night and set up camp in the woods so if anything was coming, they would be able to hear if a branch snapped or leaves rustled.

“Hey, Joel, can I ask you something?” Y/N asked, setting down the lamp that Joel brought.

Joel looked up from where he was laying out their sleeping bags.

“Do you have any other family out here besides Tommy?”

“M-mm.” Joel shook his head.

He really didn’t, he would have Sarah if he could have saved her that day, but things didn’t go the way he had planned to that night.

“D’you?” Joel asked, getting into his sleeping bag.

“No. My sister died the night of the outbreak, we’d planned to get to LA but it was so damn crowded in the streets, the runners got to her before we could run out of the town.”

Joel turned to see Y/N starting to tear up.

“Sorry, talking about her makes me so emotional, she was only 17. It almost felt like I was her dad, or at least in that moment.”

Y/N sniffed and laid down in his sleeping bag.

“I know how you feel,” Joel turned off the lamp and laid down too.

“You said you didn’t have family out here?”

“I lost my little girl when the outbreak started.”

“How old?”

“12.”

Joel turned away to face away from Y/N

“Fuck I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have asked if I knew it would upset you.”

Y/N sat up and looked over to Joel, he’d never seen the older man so vulnerable.

“Joel,” Y/N moved closer to him “I’m sorry. I know how you feel, I know that you feel like you need to protect me, and I need you to know that I’m gonna survive this and we’ll get out asses to Wyoming and find your brother.” He said putting his hands on Joel’s shoulder. He felt the man tremble slightly under his touch.

“You don’t need to apologize, Y/N.” Joel shrugged Y/N’s hand off his shoulder and turned to look at him, Y/N got up and kneeled by Joel’s side to hug him.

Joel didn’t know what to do at first honestly, it was the first time he had felt any empathy in 11 years. Just as Y/N was going to pull away and apologize, Joel swung his arm around his side and hugged him tightly.

“Okay, shit Joel, too tight.” Y/N struggled to say, Joel took his arms out from around Y/N and mumbled a small ‘sorry’.

“Tell me about her in the morning.” Y/N said, scooting back to his sleeping bag.

Joel nodded and reached to turn off the lantern behind the two of their heads.

Joel didn’t get much sleep that night, he kept waking up and falling back asleep to only repeat the process until morning. That was a common occurrence for him lately. When the sun came up, Joel started getting all of his things together to be prepared when Y/N woke up. It was only about a half an hour before he did wake up though.

When he woken up, he saw that all of Joel’s things had gone and he started to think that Joel left him like he had done with so many different groups of people.

“Morning.” Joel said from a few feet away, he was sitting on a tree trunk that had fallen down a long time ago.

Y/N let out a sigh of relief and got up from his spot. He noticed that Joel had packed all of their stuff up into their backpacks except his sleeping bag. He rolled it up quickly and fastened it so it wouldn’t come undone while they were walking.

“What was she like?” Y/N asked after a while.

“She was a lot like her mom, same eyes and smile y’know, things like that.”

Joel kept what he said about Sarah short and sweet and they moved on from there.

It felt weird to Joel to be this open with someone he met less than a month ago, but it somehow felt right to him at the same time.

The two kept walking, and walking, and walking some more for a full day and a full night. They reached a sign that read

“Welcome to Nebraska!” In massive letters, it was covered in graffiti and rust from all the time it was out there with no one to keep it pretty.

As day turned to night once again, Joel and Y/N found a place far from any life that would be out there, and called it a night.

Joel watched Y/N lay out his sleeping bag and turned to do the same, he thought for a second and decided to speak on his thoughts.

“Y/N, bring your sleeping bag closer.”

“Uh, okay,” He moved his stuff closer and sat down on top of it. “Is everything alright Joel?”

Joel nodded, “Yeah just thinkin’” He said quietly.

“So you wanted me to move closer to you because you’re thinking?” Y/N laughed a little.

“Yeah about you idiot.”

Y/N looked and Joel confused

“Why are you so nice to me?”

Y/N went to speak but Joel cut him off

“I’m mean and I’m bossy, I have no redeeming traits.”

Joel finished and Y/N sat there for a minute thinking of what to say.

The hardened man he had grown to know just spilled out to him and he honestly didn’t know what to do.

“Joel, you saved my life, you’ve kept me out of danger that would have killed me by now, yes you’re mean but that’s who you are.” he finally said breaking the silence that seemed hours long.

Joel hugged Y/N, just like they hugged when Joel told him about Sarah.

“Can we uh, sleep like this?” Y/N suggested, still hugging Joel tight, he was enjoying the human touch just as much as Joel was.

“It’s kinda complicated with two separate sleeping bags Y/N. How big is yours?”

Y/N tensed at those words and Joel noticed.

“Your fuckin’ sleeping bag Y/N.” Joel said flatly.

“Oh it’s big enough for both of us I think, we’d have to squeeze together but it would work.”

Joel let go of Y/N and scooted out of his own sleeping bag and Y/N got in and opened up the zipper to let Joel squeeze in next to him. It was kind of uncomfortable at first for both of them and they knew they would wake up with aching backs but they repositioned themselves and got comfortable.

That was one of the first nights Joel had slept fully through.

‘I’m fuckin’ losin’ it.’ He thought when he woke up with the heat off of Y/N’s body radiating onto his back and an arm around his waist.

He was again, the first to wake up and the moment he moved to try and get up, Y/N woke up.

“You feeling better Joel?”

Joel hummed in response, as much as he hated feeling vulnerable, he really liked having someone not tell him that he should fix himself.

“Good, let’s get going.”

The two packed up their stuff and trekked through rain and sun until they reached a sign that brought a smile to Joel’s face.

It was the first time that Y/N had seen Joel smile a genuine smile.

“Kay enough ogling the sign let’s go find Tommy.” Y/N smiled.

“Welcome to Wyoming.”

As Joel and Y/N walked further into the state, they were awestruck about how beautiful the landscape managed to stay,

“Joel listen,” Y/N whispered

“It’s just deer Y/N.”

“No those steps are too heavy.”

“Well, whatever it is I’m sure they don’t need us to help, there’s no screaming.”

Y/N nodded and they kept walking.

They had finally reached Casper, the last place Joel had heard from Tommy, the city was desolate, not a single form of life as far as the eye could see. Joel’s joy suddenly disappeared.

“Where is he?” Y/N asked quietly.

“I- He-.”

Joel screamed out Tommy’s name, he didn’t want to think that he wasn’t here anymore, he needed him back. Ten years was a long time without your brother.

“Joel we’ll find him don’t worry,” Y/N went to put his hand on Joel’s shoulder, put Joel pushed it away before it even made contact.

“You don’t know dangerous this place is for him, Y/N. He could be dead.” Joel started getting angry and Y/N backed away from him.

“Joel, I do know.” Y/N assured

“You only survived because I helped you, you were unarmed and you would have died, and do you think Tommy is armed?”

“Yes Joel, he was a firefly of course he would be armed.”

Joel sighed and stopped talking and Y/N scanned his face for any emotion.

“I need to go, I dug myself too deep and I need to go and you need to go back to San Francisco.”

“Joel, I can’t go back, they’ll kill me, and I know you’ve been smuggling for a long time but you were just as lost as I was when we needed to find a map, I can help you Joel.” Y/N begged.

“No, I’m going to look all around here and find my fucking brother.”

Joel walked away and Y/N just watched him,

“Joel, don’t fucking leave me here.” He started to get choked up.

Joel said nothing and kept walking.

Y/N accepted defeat and turned away so he wouldn’t have to watch Joel leave.

Just as Joel reached the door of the building they were in, he noticed a group of people walking towards it, he turned around and ran back to the room Y/N was in.

“I thought you were leaving, Joel.” Y/N said, he was sitting on the floor with back against the wall.

“There are people coming towards here, we need to hide. Right now.”

“What?”

“Right now, Y/N.”

Joel helped Y/N stand up and they found a smaller room off the room that they were already in and crouched down behind boxes.

They were in the same position they were the night they met. Joel was crouched in front of Y/N and pulling out his gun, and Y\N was behind Joel, he was armed this time, but it still felt the same to him.

“Joel, let me go out there I can protect myself.”

“No. You stay he-“

Before Joel could even finish his sentence, Y/N was getting up from behind him.

“Fuck. Y/N, get the fuck back behind me!” Joel whisper-shouted.

Y/N didn’t listen and he made his way back into the room they were in moments prior.

It was almost cliche how Y/N was struck down as soon as he walked into the open area. Joel heard the gunshot and booked it into the room.

“Holy shit.” is all he said when three firefly members stood in front of the door to leave.

“Joel?” Y/N asked weakly.

“Hey, stay with me Y/N don’t fucking do this, I’m sorry for what I said earlier please don’t fucking do this to me.” Joel started tearing up.

Four shots rung out through the building, Joel shot all three of the members, he missed one but almost instantly got them down with the fourth shot.

“Joel, who were those people?”

“I don’t know Y/N,” Joel looked down to see blood spilling onto the floor. “Fuck, c’mon we have to get you up.” Y/N winced as Joel tried to slide his arm under his waist.

“Joel stop.” Y/N said, pushing Joel’s arms off of him.

“Please, Y/N I- I’m sorry for saying you would have died back in Chicago.”

Joel just broke down at this point, he gripped onto the front of Y/N’s shirt and held him in his arms, just like he did that night in Nebraska it hit him, he realized that no matter how much he tried, people around him would keep getting hurt or killed, it happened to Sarah, God knows what happened to Tommy, and now it’s Y/N.

All Joel could think about was how he said that Y/N would have never survived and that’s why he got up when he had told him to stay behind him,

He wanted to prove to Joel that he could save himself.

And that’s what killed him. Words that came out of Joel’s mouth. Words that Joel said to him. Joel thinking that he was weak.

The man would never forgive himself, he would never let anyone close to him ever again in fear of the pattern repeating.

[haunted-xander]

Chiaki was relieved to finally get to sleep at home again. The walk from Towa city to the apartment complex was long and included stealing an abandoned car, as well as Izuru carrying the trolley with Nagito and Monaca inside with his bare arms while walking on ground so covered in rubble it's a miracle it was walkable at all.

Once they'd gotten inside, the first thing Chiaki did was head into the bedroom and flopping down onto the bed. Despite how tired she was, she felt far too dirty to fall asleep right away. Izuru walked inside carrying a sleeping Monaca, and gently laid her next to Chiaki on the bed. "You will need to shower before going to sleep, Nanami."

"Mmm. Don't wanna."

"Nanami."

"Kamukura-kun."

Chiaki knew she was just being petty again, but she really didn't feel like dragging herself up so soon after having laid down. Izuru seemed less than pleased. "...Fine, I will assist Komaeda in washing himself first, then I will make you shower. I will drag you in there myself if necessary."

"Will you strip me too?"

"...If necessary."

"Hm okay. I'll let you do that then. Less I gotta do the better."

"...So childish. How boring." Accepting his fate of having to manually wash two grown people, Izuru left the room and presumably got started on helping Nagito shower. Chiaki however, felt herself growing drowsier by the second until she fell asleep.

The sound of something being dragged inside woke her up. She felt rested after her sleep, even if it had been interrupted in the middle by Izuru waking her up for a shower and having moved to sleep on the couch to let Monaca have some space for her first night. Now, Chiaki sat up from the couch, realising her previous human pillow Izuru had been replaced with an actual pillow. Making sure not to disturb Nagito sleeping on her lap, she tried to look around to see what the commotion was.

Izuru walked in from the door, dragging a wheelchair inside with him. He noticed she'd awoken and locked eyes with her for a second before returning to dragging the wheelchair. She noticed him heading towards the bedroom, presumably to let Monaca into it.

Nagito was still sound asleep.

Some time later, Izuru came out alongside a grumpy Monaca, who was now seated in the wheelchair. "G'morning. Looks like Monaca-san can start moving around herself now. That's good." The girl in question started smiling and wheeled herself towards the couch. "Good morning, Big Sis! ...Huh? Is Mr. Servant not awake yet? ...Did Mr. Stalker do something?" She turned around to glare at Izuru. "...I did nothing. He is simply exhausted"

"Hmm, Monaca doesn't believe you! Mr. Stalker is definitely suspicious!"

"Hm, actually, I saw him put something in the water he made Komaeda-kun drink before sleeping... I think." Chiaki had assumed it was the usual medicine, as Nagito probably hadn't been able to take them while working in Towa City, but maybe it wasn't. "So Mr. Stalker did do something!" Monaca wheeled closer to Izuru and lowered her voice, "...You better hope Mr. Servant wakes up soon, or I'll torture you in the worst way imaginable. I'll cut you up, digit by digit, limb by limb, I'll rip out your teeth and tear out your eyeballs before strapping your remaining head and torso to a stretcher and watch as your body rips itself apart."

Chiaki felt a shiver run up her spine at Monaca's threat, suddenly very glad the little girl seemed to like her. Izuru, on the other hand, was completely unfazed. A tense silence filled the air.

"...Hey hey, I'm hungry, can we have breakfast already? What's on the menu today, Kamukura-kun?" She decided to break the atmosphere by appealing to their stomachs. ...And her own. She was very hungry. "...I will see what we have." And with that, Izuru disappeared into the kitchen.

"Hmph. Why is Mr. Stalker cooking, he can't be trusted." While her dark expression had vanished, she was still clearly unhappy with leaving Izuru to do anything on his own. "...Well, I can't cook, and as you probably already know, neither can Komaeda-kun. Unless you want to cook yourself, you'll have to eat what Kamukura-kun makes."

Monaca paused at her reply. "...Ugh, fine. But if he puts anything weird in the food I'll kill him."

"Okay. I don't think he will, though." A thought suddenly entered Chiaki's head. "...Hey, Monaca-san. Would you like to take a bath? You're probably dirty, right? ...And you could probably do with some new clothes, too. I think I have some clothes in your size..."

"...Why do you have children's clothes in your house. There are no children here. Do you have an illegitimate child or something?"

"...I'm 21. I'm not old enough for kids. ...Not your age, at least. Besides, I've been very careful with protection. Having kids when the world's like this would be bad... probably."

"...Who would you even have sex with? It can't be Mr. Servant, he doesn't like girls, and it better not be Mr. Stalker."

"......"

"...Ew."

"...Anyway, Do you want that bath?" Chiaki tried to get the conversation back on track. "A bath would be great! Monaca's tired of all this dirt meow." ...She's meowing now? "Okay then. I'll go find some clean clothes for you. ...Tell me if you need any help, okay? The bathroom's right over there." Replying with a smile, Monaca went off and entered the bathroom.

Only now remembering the man sleeping in her lap, Chiaki carefully tried to shimmy herself from under Nagito's head, replacing herself with the pillow Izuru gave her once she was free. She went into the bedroom's closet and searched for fitting clothes for Monaca. she found a skirt resembling the lower part of Monaca's usual dress, a white, collared, sleeveless shirt, and a pair of socks the same color as the skirt. Figuring this would be a bit too cold for her, she searched around for any long-sleeved shirts or hoodies to add to the outfit. Althought she wasn't looking for it, she found some child-sized underwear. Oh, right. She'll need to get clean panties too... How lucky. I hope they fit.

After a few more minutes of searching, she found she had no long-sleeved shirts or hoodies in Monaca's size. From the bathroom next door, she heard Monaca call out, "HEY, BIG SIS! I'M DONE! CAN I GET THOSE CLOTHES NOW? I DON'T WANT TO WALK AROUND NAKED!" Chiaki decided she'd look for something warmer later, and grabbed the clothes as she walked to the bathroom.

She knocked on the door before announcing herself, "Hey, I've got your clothes here. Can you open the door a little so I can give them to you?" Without replying, Monaca opened the door just enough to outstretch her arm and opened her hand expectantly. Chiaki placed the clothes into the girl's arm and watched as it swiftly retreated back into the bathroom and the door slipped shut. She decided to see if Nagito had woken up yet and walked into the living room.

"Ah, Good morning, Nanami-san! Are you helping Monaca-san? How kind of you! You must be the most hopeful kind of person to help such a pitiful little girl!" Nagito greeted her the moment she walked in. "Oh, you're finally awake. Good morning."

"Say, how's little Monaca-san doing? I hope she hasn't been causing any trouble for you!"

"...You sound like a parent."

"Ah, do I?"

"Yep. Totally a parent."

"Who's a parent?" Chiaki hadn't noticed Monaca get out of the bathroom, but now she was wheeling herself towards Nagito, wearing the clothes Chiaki handed her. "Good morning Big Bro! Monaca was beginning to wonder if you were gonna sleep forever! ...Hm, but since you woke up, I guess I can't kill Mr. Stalker after all... What a shame. Oh well! At least Big Bro is fine!"

"...Please don't kill Kamukura-sama. I like him very much and would prefer having him around! ...And besides, if he dies we won't have anyone to cook for us!"

"Hmm... Okay! But only because Monaca doesn't want to starve to death. Or eat more of the disgusting filth you tried to make for us." Chiaki smiled at their easy banter, their interaction reminicent of siblings. "...Hey hey, Komaeda-kun, isn't it a bit too cold in here to go around pantless? I know your old pair was ruined and all, but you should probably grab some of Kamukura-kun's for now." Nagito's pants had been thrown away yesterday, as Izuru had deemed them beyond fixing on account of the tearing and old, stained blood covering it from the thighs down.

"No. You're not allowed to."

"...Why not? You don't want him to have pants?"

"I don't want him to have Mr. Stalker's pants. They're probably itchy and stuffy and have the insides covered in poison ivy."

"Ahaha, you sure have an imagination, Monaca-san! I often share clothes with Kamukura-sama, so I can assure you that there is nothing of the sort inside!"

"Ew, you share clothes with that guy? I won't allow it! From now on you're not allowed to wear any of his clothes. And that's final."

"...Aha, whatever you say, Monaca-san. No pants for me today, I suppose." Having accepted his fate, Nagito grabbed the blanket that had fallen off the couch when he woke up, and placed it back on top of himself. "...Oh, that reminds me. I was trying to look for a warmer shirt for Monaca-san earlier, but didn't have any in the correct size."

"I don't mind a big hoodie. Just give me something, my arms are cold."

"...Alright, I'll grab a few and we'll see which ones you like the best." Chiaki went back into the bedroom and grabbed a couple hoodies, quickly returning with them in hand. "Okay, I've got a couple hoodies here. Let's try them!"

With that, she first handed Monaca a near-black blue hoodie with orange on the hood's inside and white, sharp 'teeth' coming from the hood's opening. "...It looks stupid. I don't want it."

Next was a large black hoodie with poofy, cuffed sleeves, a crooked cat tail in the back and large cat ears on the hood. "Hm. Cute but too simple. I don't want it."

Then, a yellow-ish green hoodie paired with a leather jacket. "Ew, why is the hoodie neon green? And I hate wearing leather. I hate it. No."

Lastly, a light pink hoodie with bunny ears, a bow on one ear, a cartoon-ish bunny face on the hood, and white patterning on the ends of the sleeves and ears. "...It's far too cutesy and detailed. It makes Monaca think of Kotoko-chan. Hmm... I like it! I'll take this one!"

"Oh Monaca-san, you look adorable!" Nagito got up and walked behind Monaca, holding her shoulders. ...And what's that on his left hand...? "...Komaeda-kun? What... happened to your hand?" The skin had more color than Nagito's usual pale complexion, and yet looked far less alive than he did. Additionally, it had perfectly manicured red nails on the tips, uncharacteristic of Nagito. "Ah, that. My apologies, I must've forgotten to inform you. You see...

I took Junko Enoshima's arm for myself."

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers CHAOS LINEAGE ー Laito [02]

ー The scene starts in one of the empty bedrooms at the Violet Manor

*Thud*

Yui: Nn...

( ...Huh...? When did I fall asleep in a bed...? )

( Besides, I don’t recognize this room...Where could I be? )

Laito: Seems like the Princess has finally awoken from her slumber. Good morning, Bitch-chan~

Yui: Laito-kun...?

Laito: What’s this? Are you still out of it? Perhaps I got a little too excited and had a tad bit too much of your blood?

My bad~ Your blood was simply too delicious, I couldn’t stop myself.

Yui: ( I see...I must have lost consciousness while he drank my blood... )

Did you carry me here?

Laito: I sure did! I realized that I’d be in trouble if Carla found out that I just left you for dead there.

By the way, this will be your room from today onwards, so you can make yourself at home.

Yui: Yeah...Thanks.

Laito: You’re welcome~

I know it’s under the assumption that I’ll watch over you, but getting to spend time with you alone like this is such a privilege. 

I can leave figuring out how to become Supreme Overlord to Carla and the others, while I don’t have to bother with any of that annoying stuff. 

Yui: ( Supreme Overlord... The way they talk about it makes me assume that it’s common knowledge but what exactly is going on? )

( This isn’t Kaminashi City...I don’t recognize the Church I woke up at, nor this manor... )

Laito: But Carla loves to work his little brothers to the bone, you see. He’s always so nosy, ordering us around. 

I don’t care if he’s my brother or not, I’m starting to get sick of it.

Yui: Brothers...

( Laito-kun and Carla-san? How...? Then what happened to the others? )

( Could it be that they also had their memories manipulated, just like me...? But why exactly? )

Laito: What’s wrong? You’re gazing at me so passionately. Are you...trying to seduce me, perhaps?

Yui: I-I’m no...Kyah!

ー He pins her down on the bed

*Creaak*

Laito: Your blood has such a tempting scent. It could probably win any Vampire over.

To be honest, I thought about doing all sorts of things to you while you were asleep. 

Yui: Eeh!?

Laito: It’s such a shame you woke up before I had the chance to. Oh well, it’s even more exciting for me when I get to actually see your reactions, so I suppose this works into my favor.

Yui: W-Wait, I want you to hear me out first!

Laito: Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle with you. 

...Aah, I guess I shouldn’t. You’re the type who prefers to suffer, aren’t you? 

Remember how happy you seemed when I forced that spoon inside your mouth? 

In that case, I better put you through hell.

Yui: ( Despite everything, Laito-kun is still his old self...! )

Laito-kun, please. Listen to me. 

( I want to get some facts straight...and figure out this situation. )

( Besides, if Laito-kun’s memories are all messed up, I want those to go back to normal. )

Laito: What you have to say, huh? ...Fine, I’ll listen.

Yui: Really!?

Laito: However, if it’s something dull, I’m going to punish you, okay?

Yui: ( Uu...I have a bad feeling about this, but I need him to listen to what I have to say, or we’ll never get anywhere. )

O-Okay.

Laito: Nfu~ How courageous of you. Spill the tea then?

Yui: O-Okay. To be honest, I’m not quite sure what is happening myself either...

But it seems like we’ve gotten caught up in some mysterious events.

Laito: Heeh, that sounds rough.

Yui: ( I can tell by his face that he doesn’t believe me at all...But I can’t give in. )

My memories were messed up until yesterday as well...I was convinced that I am indeed Eve who has been asleep at the Church. 

However, that’s not actually the case. My name is Komori Yui...I remembered that. 

Laito: Is that your name? I thought your name was ‘Eve’.

Yui: You are actually called ‘Sakamaki Laito’ yourself. You are the fifth brother of the Sakamaki family. 

Laito: Sakamaki...? 

Yui: It’s not just Subaru-kun, but Shuu-san and Reiji-san are your brothers as well. 

Also, you, Ayato-kun and Kanato-kun are triplets.

Laito: With those two guys from the Orange House? We’re triplets?

Heeh~ That’s rather intriguing. Did you come up with that on the spot? You might have potential to become a storywriter.

Yui: ( He won’t believe me at all... )

I had been staying at the Sakamaki manor and you...are my boyfriend.

Laito: Heeh...Boyfriend, you say?

Yui: ( Eh? That smile just now...I have a bad feeling about it. )

Laito: If you are telling the truth, it’s pretty impressive to have a family of six. What were our parents like?

Yui: Eh? Well...

( They’re Karlheinz-san and Cordelia-san... )

( It’d all be new information for Laito-kun so...I’m not sure if I should tell him under these circumstances? )

Laito: Hmー? Seeing as cat’s got your tongue, I assume they must have been pretty bad parents to the point where you can’t tell me? 

Or perhaps you were deeply involved with our parents in some way? Which is exactly why you can’t talk about them. ...Correct?

Yui: ...! T-That’s...

( I guess you could say Cordelia-san and I are deeply connected in one way. )

( My heart ーー belongs to her after all. )

Laito: Well, I don’t really care about the parents. There’s some other juicy details I’m more interested in. 

ー Laito leans in close

*Thud* 

Laito: Say, Bitch-chan. You mentioned that we are lovers, right?

Yui: Y-Yeah...

Laito: However, I don’t remember dating you at all. 

That means you lied about the fact to try and grab my attention, no?

Yui: I-I’m not lying. The two of us...we actually are dating...!

Laito: Look at how desperate you are. If you want my attention that badly, just say so honestly.

...I don’t mind, I’ll tend to you. Let’s have some fun together?

I wonder where you’re most sensitive? Nn...

*Sluuurp*

Yui: Hyaah!

( I-I made a weird noise...! )

Laito: Your neck must be your weak point for you to make such sounds? 

Yui: T-That’s not true. 

Laito: It’s not very nice to lie, you see? Besides, you seemed rather nervous while telling your story earlier.

The thin layer of sweat makes it taste very sweet. How about another spot?

*Rustle* 

Yui: No...N-Not my clothes!

Laito: It’s fine. Today I’m in the mood for just a small glimpse of skin.

Yui: ( That is far from being ‘fine’! )

Laito: What’s this? Your skin is nicely flushed. The scent of your blood has become sweet and rich as well...Nn.

Yui: Ah...Nn...

( I can’t...It tickles, my voice keeps slipping out...! )

Laito: Fufu, you’re sensitive here as well? I wouldn’t mind sucking your blood, but you’ll have to wait today.

You kept me on the edge of my seat the whole time while you were asleep, so now I’m getting my revenge.

Yui: Nn...Haah...Revenge, you say...?

( Even though he’s the one who chose to watch me as I slept... )

Laito: What’s wrong? Your breathing has become ragged. I wonder if you’re going crazy from not being stimulated enough?

I get really turned on from seeing you fall victim to the feeling of pleasure...Nn...

*Smooch*

Yui: ...Nhah... 

Laito: ...Fufu, so your earlobes are sensitive as well, huh? You’re crying out so sweetly.

I suppose I should leave a mark so it’s easier to remember your weak spots...Nn...

Yui: Ah...

Laito: ...Come on, take a look? There’s a bright red mark right above your chest, see? This is one of your weak spots. 

Yui: ...

( This is bad, at this rate, I’ll get caught up in his flow...! )

Please, let me continue my story...I want you to retrieve your memories.

Laito: What you told me earlier? As intriguing as that was, bringing it up at a time like this is somewhat of a turn off. 

Yui: But, it’s the truth and...There’s something wrong with you right nowーー

Laito: ...Shut up. 

Yui: ...!

Laito: I’m trying to make it clear that I’m not in the mood for it right now.

Yui: ( This feeling...It’s as if we’ve gone back to the time when we only just met... )

...I-I’m sorry...

Laito: Nfu~ Exactly, just like that. Girls are so much cuter when they’re obedient, you see? Makes it easier to deal with them.

Of course, I can get a kick out of someone acting a little feisty as well, but don’t push it too far, okay? That’ll only piss me off.

Yui: O-Okay...

( I wonder how I can get him to remember? )

( I don’t want his memories to be gone forever... )

( However... )

Monologue

The way Laito-kun messes around with me,

solely out of sheer enjoyment, following his instinct.

Almost as if all the time we spent together up till now,

was slowly fading away from inside him. 

That made my heart ache incredibly painfully. 

I want him to remember. 

Yet, at the same time I hesitated.

Laito-kun has a strained relationship with his parents. 

A trauma so deep and dark,

it simply cannot be expressed through words.

Taking that into account,

I suddenly became uncertain whether retrieving his memories,

would make him happy or not,

as I tightly closed my eyes and simply waited for time to pass by.

ー The scene shifts to the hallway of the Violet manor

Yui: ( In the end, yesterday passed with Laito-kun toying around with me all day... )

( I wonder what my next step should be? I’d love to take a bath and think it through but... )

Excuse me...Laito-kun? I’d like to go to the bathroom...

Laito: Yeah, I know.

Yui: Then why are you following me?

Laito: I’m in charge of watching over you after all. I will follow you anywhere.

Of course, this also applies to when you’re taking a bath, understood?

Yui: ( At this rate, he’ll probably follow me inside the bathroom as well...I have to lose him somehow! )

Laito: I mean, doing it in the bathroom is kind of nice as well, don’t you agree?

Yui: D-Do what?

Laito: Isn’t that obvious? Sucking your blood.

Yui: I-I’d like to take a bath alone so I can relax...

ー He moves closer

Laito: You say that, but your sweet scent has grown stronger? You’re looking forward to it, aren’t you, Bitch-chan?

Yui: I-I’m not.

Laito: Haah...It just keeps on growing more intense. I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back. Perhaps I should have some right here, right now?

Yui: Y-You can’t, not here! Somebody could pass by...

Laito: But that’s what makes it so great! Having them watch closely as we become entwined with each other. ...Fufu.

Being watched gets you even more aroused as well, doesn’t it?

Yui: No, I don’t!

Laito: Liar, liar, pants on fire~ Want to give it a try then? I’m pretty sure you’ll grow addicted to it.

Kou: You really get a kick out of the weirdest things, don’t you, Laito-kun?

Yui: K-Kou-kun...!?

Laito: Aah, perfect timing. I was looking for an audience.

Kou: I could hear you. But I’ll pass.

If I can only watch when she smells so good, I’ll definitely get hungry as well.

Yui: ( T-Thank god...Seems like I’ll be able to avoid any weird situations. )

Laito: Hmー In that case, you should suck her blood alongside me.

Yui: ...Eh!?

Kou: You don’t mind? Hooray! I’m actually starving right now!

Yui: W-Wait! I’m obviously not agreeing with that!

Laito: Ehー? But why? That’d only make things even more exciting, no?

Come on, just try imagining it? How our fangs will slowly sink into your skin, that is.

Soft nibbles on one side, intense blood-sucking on the other...I wonder what kind of sounds we’ll be able to get out of you?

Yui: ( W-What now...? I can’t get this feeling out of my mind. )

Selection

→ I’d prefer just Laito-kun (♡)

Yui: In that case, I’d prefer it to just be Laito-kun...!

Laito: Heeh? I didn’t think you’d personally request me~

Kou: Haah? Excuse me?

You’re fine with a freak like him sucking your blood, but you don’t want me to do the same?

I don’t get that.

*Rustle* 

Yui: Kyah!

Kou: Come on, ask me to suck your blood as well.

Yui: Ugh...

( He’s glaring daggers at me...It might be best to just genuinely do what he asked of me... )

P-Please...suck my...blood...

Kou: Atta girl, good job!

→ I want Kou-kun to suck my blood too (🖤)

Yui: ( I don’t want someone other than Laito-kun to suck my blood... )

( But who knows what will happen if I refuse... )

I want Kou-kun...to suck my blood as well...

Kou: Heeh, I already knew that Laito-kun likes to refer to you as ‘Bitch-chan’, but it seems like you’re actually the real deal.

To be honest, I kind of expected Eve to be someone a little more pure.

...Oh well, I won’t say I dislike being yearned for~

Laito: Okay~ You can go first then, Kou.

Kou: Yay! I’ve been so curious about Eve’s blood.

ー Kou approaches Yui

*Rustle* 

Yui: ( ...J-Just as I thought, having someone other than Laito-kun suck my blood makes me flinch... )

Kou: Well then, time to dig in~ ...Nn...

ー Kou bites her

Yui: Nn...Ah...

( It feels different from Laito-kun’s bite... )

Laito: Haah...Look at you, Bitch-chan, your cheeks flushed and eyes watering...

Does it feel good to have Kou suck your blood?

Yui: That’s not...

Laito: Untrue, right? See? ...The scent of your blood has gotten richer. It proves that you’re feeling good.

Yui: Nn...Haah...That’s not true.

Laito: Aah...I’ve gotten excited just from watching you squirm around in pleasure.

I’d love to enjoy the show for a bit but...

ー Laito approaches as well

Laito: You want me to join in on the fun as well, don’t you? ...Nn...

ー He bites her

Yui: Aah...

Laito: Fufu, your body’s quivering. It must truly feel amazing...

Say? I’ll suck from your arm as well. I believe it’ll make for an entirely new sensation? Nn...Nnh...Haah...

Yui: ( ...Ah...I’m going deeper and deeper down this rabbit hole... )

( Now isn’t the time for this...I haven’t gotten a single step closer in getting out of this weird situation... )

Laito: Your blood is truly addictive...Uu...

Yui: Laito-kun...?

Laito: ...It’s nothing...I just felt a little dizzy, that’s all...

Kou: ...Huh? ...For some reason, my head’s spinning as well...

Laito: ...You know, I guess we got ‘drunk’ on Eve’s top-quality blood...?

Kou: Ahー You might have a point...We don’t get our hands on blood quite this delicious every day after all. 

Yui: ( The blood’s getting to their head? This has never happened before though. )

Kou: Come on, what are you getting distracted for? I’m still not satisfied yet. 

Yui: Eh? No way...

Laito: Look at you playing the part of the tragic heroine. You really are a natural at seducing men, aren’t you?

You’re such a naughty girl, Bitch-chanーー Nn...Hah...

Yui: Uu...Aah...

( My blood is being sucked by not just Laito-kun, but Kou-kun as well... )

( Like this, I’m treated like mere prey, similar to how I had just arrived at the Sakamaki manor... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[dnangelic]

she shyly plays with one of the little bunny charms she had woven into her space buns; cheeks dusting with the palest of pinks. her other hand comes up just as quickly to hide the smile that finds itself upon her lips. “ oh, these? do you like them? “ they reminded me of you.

bc toga was feeling Cute

@musedriven

cute . cute ... cute --- geeze , what was he , wiz ?! and yet he isn't sure what else to think or where exactly to look at first ; at the charms in her hair , or the faint flush of her cheeks , or the way that she hid her smile with a sleeve , her eyes and question still honed expectant over him , giving off a simultaneous sort of shyness and pointed interest that he's never had to face before . it wasn't in his nature to be suspicious and to assume things , but a certain thought creeps into his mind anyways : was she ... maybe , actually trying to impress him and get his attention ?

him --- ?!

one breath , another ; his hand moves upwards and starts to clutch at his heart . already his face feels like it's steaming . ( oh no ... this was bad --- ! ) ' w-well , they're rabbits , huh ? ' awkwardly stating the obvious doesn't seem to help anything . the pounding rush of his blood reaches his ears , and the sense of panic at the sound of it only seems to make the feeling of blistering heat in his chest worse . at this rate , he really would transform . ' i mean , it's cute --- ! you're cute , they're as cute as the rest of you ... ! '

--- wait , why did he say something like that ?!

he turns on a heel as he makes a small , helpless noise and sprints away in an instant with one last , frantically tossed out ' bye --- ! ' but of course , there'd be no way to tell her that he's been wondering , thinking , dreaming about her --- just a little . in the privacy of his room and the long passing nights inside it , it didn't matter if he transformed into the great phantom thief , because at least there he could be terrified and tormented in peace . certain questions made him feel feverish and dizzy , each query something that he desperately wanted to ask yet equally desperately felt that he couldn't : toga-san , why are you doing any of this ? toga-san , do you ... actually like me ? toga-san , did i --- start to like you ?

' what should i do ... ? ' his --- dark's voice carries soft and troubled . the hope feels absurd ; even though he had already been rejected once and awoken to his family's curse , was he still going to fall in love again ? and then , there was the ache . the faint wound in knowing that she felt nothing for dark --- him . even if he couldn't resist his feelings , pushed along and perpetually swept up by them no matter how stubbornly he tried to dig his heels in , the path ahead seemed winding and difficult . running away , telling lies , playing oblivious ; he didn't want to toy with her , not anymore than he wanted to be toyed with , but what could he do ?

at the very least , no matter for how briefly , his feelings had still been sincere . cute , cute , cute enough that if it weren't for his curse , he could have taken ahold of toga's hand , and held it gently in order to fully reveal and witness her smile at him .

[wooyoblr]

don’t make me beg (cs x kys, 18+) :: part 1/2

pairing: choi san x kang yeosang

cw: smut, established relationship, established and frequently referenced poly woosansang, dom!yeosang, sub!san, brat!san, side woosan but like within the threeway relationship, exhibitionism kinda, kissing, making love, rimming, anal sex, praise kink, pet names, begging, misunderstandings, more tags added in pt 2

wc: 7.8k

previous fic in the series

description: 

After their recent sexcapades, after seeing Wooyoung being ravished by Yeosang, San wanted his turn. He wanted to try, at the time, to get Yeosang to dominate him like that. He’d gotten so fucking turned on at how Yeosang treated Wooyoung when he’d been bad, and he wanted the same treatment. But San knew his boyfriend, and said boyfriend was aware of how much San loved to be praised, so there was no way he would rough San up the way he wanted if he didn’t explicitly ask. It was hard, though, San found, to explicitly ask someone who loved to treasure him, caress him, touch him and kiss him like he was the most precious thing in the world… to just throw him against the wall, call him filthy names and fuck him until he cried.

So, San devised a plan.

He would be the world’s pettiest, brattiest, most infuriating little boyfriend… until Yeosang had no choice but to punish him.

Yeosang was aware of the precise moment wherein he realised that San wanted something from him. 

He knew both of his boyfriends’ subconscious behaviours pretty well after so many years of being together and fooling around, and could notice the nuances in their behaviour for when they wanted something soft or something rough.

Wooyoung was clingy and talkative on the best of days, but when he wanted sex, he ramped up that brattiness tenfold, as if it were his sole purpose to be a pain in Yeosang’s backside until he snapped and bent him over whatever surface was readily available.

San was more subtle. He liked to pout, liked to push his luck when it came to showing physical affection anywhere that wasn’t their bedroom, running his hand along Yeosang’s side while they watched television with the others, trying and failing to kiss him on the cheek when they were in public. Yeosang moaned and groaned and pretended to be annoyed - and to an extent, it did bother him - but there was always the knowledge lurking at the back of his irritated mind that he would soon be whispering sweet nothings and praise into San’s ear as he fucked him slow and deep until they came together.

With time and experience came being comfortable with each other in bed, and then came the hushed whispers of secret, filthy desires, only revealed in the dark of their shared dorm room.

Jongho and San had switched rooms about a month after the trio came out as a throuple to their members, after Jongho had awoken one too many times to the sounds of his friends having sex in the bed next to him and finally lost it with them. Yeosang had wanted the switch from the moment they officially became boyfriends and had made it his mission to pull the loudest, sluttiest sounds out of Wooyoung and San for weeks until Jongho finally conceded.

Familiarity and tenderness eased the discomfort of baring himself and his innermost desires to other people. San and Wooyoung knew every tiny fantasy that had ever crossed Yeosang’s mind, and he theirs, and they were lucky enough that, between the three of them, most of those desires could be fulfilled.

They were open to learning, open to experimenting and trying new things for the sake of their lovers. Yeosang could distinctly remember the thrill he felt the time he rode Wooyoung while wearing one of Hongjoong’s skirts. The time he handcuffed San to their bed. The rush of power that coursed through him the first time San asked to be hit or the first time Wooyoung asked to be choked. The act of being seen so intimately resonated deep in his chest and spread warmth throughout his body every time they trusted each other with a new, hushed fantasy.

To begin with, they always had to talk about it beforehand; Yeosang had insisted on that. San agreed readily, but Wooyoung whined and squirmed with discomfort when Yeosang made them explain what they wanted to do, how hard or rough they should be, and what was to happen if something went wrong. They set safewords and other tap-outs for when they couldn’t speak, and as time passed, the need to explicitly discuss beforehand diminished as they grew more familiar with each others’ bodies, responses, and silent pleas.

So when San came home and immediately plopped down onto the couch beside Yunho instead of Yeosang and cuddled up to his ex-roommate to ask about his day, Yeosang was immediately on edge.

It meant something, he was certain.

The way San held onto Yunho’s arm and looked up at him with wide, adoring eyes made Yeosang’s skin crawl.

Once Yunho left the room, San’s attention finally turned to him.

“Yeosangieee,” he whined, and that was how Yeosang knew this was about sex. It didn’t matter the context - they could have been alone in the bedroom, at the dining room table surrounded by six others, or on a set with a camera crew of 20 behind bright lights. If San was whining for him like that and not Wooyoung, he wanted something.

And, well, since San had decided to snuggle up with Yunho for the past fifteen minutes, Yeosang was most definitely not giving it to him that easily.

“Yeosangie,” San repeated, less whiny and more pouty, “What are you doing tonight?”

Yeosang continued scrolling through Netflix on the television, eyes glued to the large screen instead of the boyfriend who had shuffled over on the couch and attached himself to his side.

“I’m looking for something to watch, San-ah.”

San hummed, rested his chin on Yeosang’s shoulder and looked up at the side of his face through his eyelashes. “Can I watch with you?”

Yeosang selected the second season of a show that he knew San had not seen. “Of course, love.”

They settled into the couch and Yeosang slid his arm over the back of the cushion behind San’s head, letting San snuggle further into his side and get comfortable. If he wanted to make a move, he would either have to ask (or beg), which Yeosang was quite interested in hearing, otherwise he’d have to wait until Yeosang decided to turn in for the night. He wasn’t sure if San wanted to involve Wooyoung, so he left the choice up to him, happy to watch his show with his warm, cuddly boyfriend for company.

It took all of five minutes for San to start fidgeting.

He shifted his weight and repositioned his head, and Yeosang smirked.

“What’s wrong, Sannie?” he asked, not letting his eyes stray from the screen.

A quiet, high noise came from the back of San’s throat and he nuzzled into Yeosang’s chest. “Yeosangie.”

Yeosang turned down the television’s volume. “You have to tell me what you want. I can’t read minds, you know.”

San huffed. “Please,” he whispered.

Yeosang hummed. “If you’re not going to use your words, then just watch the show.”

“I don’t even know what’s going on in the show,” San complained.

“Then why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?”

Quietness fell over the room, only the barely-there sounds from the television speakers. Yeosang continued reading the subtitles, hand hovering over the remote ready to switch it off at a moment’s notice if San started talking.

But then San huffed again, untangled himself from Yeosang’s embrace and slipped off the couch. Yeosang stared after him, shocked as he watched his boyfriend leave the room.

He blinked.

Seonghwa came into the room moments after San had left and sat on the other couch, saying something to Yeosang, he was sure, but he wasn’t listening.

What had just happened?

Did San want Yeosang to follow him?

Ignoring Seonghwa, Yeosang stood up and was about to search for San to talk to him, when he heard the distinct giggle of their other boyfriend, followed by a scurried rush of footsteps down the hall.

“San-ah,” he heard Wooyoung’s playful voice. “What are you doing?”

The sound of a bedroom door opening and closing confused Yeosang’s whirring brain even further.

He sat back down on the couch.

“Yeosang-ah?” Seonghwa’s voice finally cut through the fog in his mind. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, still staring at the empty archway leading to the rest of the dorm.

He replayed the afternoon’s events in his mind: San came home and found Yeosang hanging out with Yunho, San clearly tried to make Yeosang jealous by cuddling up to Yunho, San wanted sex from Yeosang but didn’t want to ask for anything explicitly, San left Yeosang, San found Wooyoung and dragged him into their bedroom.

Why didn’t San just ask?

Yeosang’s heart was pounding, his head rushing as everything inside him seemed to vibrate with confusion and he tried to make sense of what was going on.

The sound of San’s loud, whiny moans reached his ears and suddenly it all clicked into place in his mind.

“Wooyoungie, yes, yes, you feel– oh– so good. Fuck, I can’t wait for you to fuck me. You fuck me so good, jagiya.”

Oh.

Oh.

Yeosang’s upper lip twitched. God, when he finally got his hands on San, that dirty, scheming, traitorous little slut–

“Yeosang-ah!”

He jerked, head whipping around to face Seonghwa. “What?”

“Are you alright? I asked about four times. You were just–”

Seonghwa was cut off when a loud moan filtered through the bedroom walls into the living room. Yeosang’s hands balled into fists against the couch cushions. His upper lip twitched again.

“Is, uh… Do they… Are they– Yeosang?” Seonghwa stuttered. “Can you please answer me? What’s wrong? Is it them?”

“Them? Oh, no. No. Not at all.” He realised the moment the words were out of his mouth how incredibly sarcastic he sounded. With a sigh, Yeosang scooted across the couch and reached over to Seonghwa. “It’s fine, hyung, really. Sannie was just in here talking to me before and I think something happened but I’ll sort it out. I promise we’re all fine.”

Another moan ripped from San’s throat, higher and whinier, and Seonghwa cringed. “Yes, I can see that,” he mumbled.

Yeosang nodded, picking up the remote again and turning the volume back up to drown out the sound of his boyfriends fucking in the next room.

He honestly did not mind, usually, when he wasn’t involved in their sexcapades. It was something the three of them had discussed more times than any of them cared to count.

In the early days of their relationship, while they were still feeling things out, trying to ensure nobody ever felt unwanted or left out, they’d done everything together. Every dinner date, every movie night, every time Wooyoung wanted a midnight fast food snack - they did it with the three of them. Every kiss was when all three were in the room. Every touch between two was quickly followed up by a third, making sure they were all involved, all loved, all cared for, until it all became too much. It was unnecessary, it was difficult, and it was fucking exhausting. Yeosang remembered feeling like he was walking on eggshells around his own goddamn boyfriends because he couldn’t kiss Wooyoung without feeling like San would be upset or couldn’t ask San for a back massage if Wooyoung wasn’t going to be home for hours just in case it turned into something less innocent than loosening his muscles.

Through tears and hoarse throats, crying and shouting and accusations being thrown around, they eventually found something that worked. Hongjoong nearly intervened several times through the mess of their budding relationship. The first year was the most difficult, the most painful, but it softened as they talked about it, it grew easier as they learned to communicate. There were still moments of jealousy, there were still arguments, and there certainly still were times when Yeosang would slam doors and Wooyoung wouldn’t talk to them for days and San would cry himself to sleep. But the spare bed in their hyungs’ room that Seonghwa used to sleep in was occupied by one of the throuple less and less often as they matured as individuals and within their relationship. 

They became more secure in their love for each other. They began to understand all the things that weren’t said and didn’t read too much into what was. Yeosang in particular learned to ignore and eventually dispel the nagging in his chest that told him he was coming between two soulmates. Given that Wooyoung had fallen in love with him back when they were still curious, career-driven teenagers, and San had fallen in love with him in those first few months before he even met Wooyoung (or so he was told, years after the fact), Yeosang knew, logically, with every part of his mind, that he wasn’t butting in anywhere. Convincing his heart was a separate issue. There were stumbles along the way and he occasionally tripped up even now, three years into their relationship, but he was far too secure in their love for him for something as trivial as jealousy of a little sex to get in the way of anything.

On any other day, Yeosang would have been thrilled to hear the two most important people in his life enjoying each other so much. He wasn’t even sure why he felt so off about the whole thing. Was it because San spoke to Yunho before Yeosang? Because he suddenly seemed unable to communicate what he wanted when Yeosang asked? Did Yeosang himself do something to upset San without realising and this was San’s way of coping? Or was he getting back at him somehow?

Yeosang stared at the television screen, eyes glazed over.

“Are you really okay with this?” Seonghwa asked, cutting through his thoughts. “I mean…”

The thud of the bedhead against the wall stopped their conversation again, making the two of them jolt with shock.

“Young-ah, oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.”

Yeosang turned up the volume even higher, risking Hongjoong coming in to yell at him for being too loud. He knew San and Wooyoung were also going to be scolded for their borderline exhibitionist behaviour tomorrow, but he somehow felt that San would not care. Yeosang knew those noises were for him regardless.

His lips curled into a dark smirk. “Don’t worry, hyung. Sannie will get what he deserves.”

-

San didn’t understand why it wasn’t working.

Okay, well, maybe he understood a little bit and he was just being dramatic.

Just because he knew how important communication was to their relationship and especially to Yeosang, didn’t mean he had to enjoy voicing his desires all the time. It was hard sometimes, give him a break.

The thing was that San had been thinking. He’d been thinking, and now he wanted.

His mind kept flashing back to that night at the hotel when they were on tour. Watching the way Wooyoung submitted to Yeosang, the pleasure that came with trusting so deeply, being so sure that Yeosang would give him what he needed… San wanted that sometimes. He wanted it right now and, in fact, he had wanted it that night, too.

Of course, he received plenty of love from both of them. He could almost always count on Wooyoung to match him blow for blow when it came to sex. There was just something about the way they worked together so seamlessly, like it was second nature, which made it so much easier to ask for things. It was something the two of them had discussed and then made a conscious effort to work on when sleeping with Yeosang, both individually or together.

Yeosang had helped San come to terms with his sexual fluidity, both in terms of the type of people he wanted to be with as well as what the liked in bed. San had found it easy to slide into whatever role Wooyoung wanted of him, do whatever he asked and please him in every way he could. Yeosang was harder to understand between the sheets. He wasn’t as open as Wooyoung who wore his heart on his sleeve and had learned to voiced anything that came to mind. Yeosang took time to learn, and San knew he was similar to him in that way. It just made it all the more heartwarming and satisfying when he was able to read Yeosang’s body language for the first time.

In the years that followed, as they learned each others’ bodies and became as familiar with each others’ needs and desires as their own, San found confidence in bed that he never had with his few previous partners, thanks to Yeosang’s insistence that they talk about everything.

So now, why Yeosang couldn’t see that San wanted him to absolutely ruin him was beyond him.

He was being so obvious! Both Yeosang and Wooyoung struggled with jealousy when it came to San, and Wooyoung when it came to Yeosang, too. Although he wasn’t quite as affectionate with others as Wooyoung was, San was still a cuddler. Yeosang knew this, and yet Yeosang almost always felt possessive when he saw San getting cozy with their members.

Even sometimes with Wooyoung.

Literally San’s other boyfriend.

San admittedly did find it kind of hot when Yeosang glared at the two of them cuddling on the loveseat during one movie night, and then demanded San come with him in the middle of the film as he left the room. He took him into the bathroom and dropped to he knees and gave San the filthiest, sloppiest blowjob he’d ever received, swallowing him down, and then telling him with a scratchy throat as he jerked off onto San’s stomach that he belonged to him.

Since he wasn’t able to voice what he wanted a few weeks ago when the three of them had last done anything that required roles in the bedroom, he’d tried to make Yeosang jealous last night with both Yunho and Wooyoung, but apparently, the message wasn’t getting through.

Because now, Yeosang was just sitting there at the table eating breakfast with San and scrolling through Twitter like San’s sleep shirt wasn’t falling off his shoulder to reveal that he was covered in hickeys from Wooyoung (which San had explicitly asked for for the sole purpose of showing them off to Yeosang the next morning).

No, Yeosang just sipped his coffee and paid San no mind.

San huffed.

Well, he supposed it was time to change tactics.

Through a pout, he leaned over the table and rested his chin in his hand to say, “You know, it’s been a very long time since Wooyoungie’s topped either of us and I really forgot how incredible he is at it.” The splutter Yeosang let out as he put his mug on the table and glared at San was absolutely worth it, and San snickered lightly. “He can be such a good dom sometimes, even though he prefers being a brat. He always knows exactly what I need and he gives it to me so well. Don’t you agree, Yeosangie?”

Yeosang cleared his throat, pointedly not looking at San and returning to his coffee and Twitter. “We are all quite versatile in that regard, yes. I could say the same about myself or about you and know with confidence that Wooyoung would agree.”

San hummed thoughtfully. “Of course. And there are some things that Wooyoung does better than you or I, and some things you excel at in bed, and some that I do, too. We all have our strengths.” San waited for Yeosang’s eyes to flicker up to his, nodding his agreement but watching San like he expected him to continue, like he was waiting for him to drop something else. His suspicions were spot on. “One of Wooyoung’s strengths as a dom is knowing when I need something without me having to tell him. Sometimes he even knows before I do. Sometimes the way he–”

“I really don’t need to hear every minuscule detail about you and Wooyoung’s activities last night, San-ah,” Yeosang snapped, and San’s heart thudded against his ribcage, knowing he’d finally gotten under Yeosang’s skin.

He schooled his expression, shoving down his delight at this reaction. “I didn’t even say much,” San grumbled, pouting, and dropped his gaze from Yeosang’s. He messed around on his own phone for a bit, letting Yeosang think the conversation was over. 

Time ticked on, minutes passed, until San snuck a glance at his boyfriend who was almost done with his breakfast. He was somewhat considerate though, and certainly polite, so he waited until Yeosang had finished swallowing his last mouthful of food and just picked up his cup before he spoke again.

“Wooyoung made me cum three times last night,” San said.

The mug Yeosang was holding was all but slammed onto the table with a harsh thud. San’s lips twitched into a small smirk as Yeosang’s jaw clenched and unclenched. “I thought I just–”

“He fucked me so well, Yeosangie, I could barely think. First on my hands and knees, you know how he hits just right from behind, then he flipped me over and sucked me dry before I’d even come down from the first one, and then–”

“San–”

“–then after I was crying and making an absolute mess of myself, he fucked my mouth until I was hard again and, god, Yeosangie, Wooyoung’s cock feels incredible in my mouth, so thick and veiny and–”

“San–”

“–and then somehow I ended up sitting on the desk and he fucked me rough and hard again with his hand on my throat until I came untouched all over myself–”

Yeosang’s chair legs scraped jarringly against the floor as he stood up abruptly.

San’s heart was thundering in his chest, pounding like it was about to break through at any moment, his chest heaving. Yeosang’s harsh gaze locked onto his, eyes boring into him as if he were trying to see into his mind, into his soul. Under such intense scrutiny, San could feel his cock stirring to life, and he should have been embarrassed - they were in the kitchen eating breakfast for fuck’s sake - but the idea of riling Yeosang up so much that he wanted to take San then and there was too exciting, to thrilling in its forbidden and indecent nature that he couldn’t help himself. The thought of someone walking in on Yeosang bending San over the table where they all sat and ate innocently was too much for his hazy, lust-filled brain to handle, and his lips parted in a silent whine. He kept his eyes on Yeosang’s, who was almost glaring down his nose at San, panting as well.

Yeosang’s upper lip curled.

San’s breath hitched.

The sudden noisy commotion outside the room threw a wet blanket over the tension that had been building, snapping the two of them from their heated moment as Hongjoong and Mingi bustled through the kitchen door.

San was out of his seat in an instant, not about to endure another one of Hongjoong’s lectures about maintaining respectful levels of noise within shared spaces and just keeping it in their fucking pants for the others’ sake.

He could feel Yeosang’s heated gaze following him as he shoved in his chair and fled the room.

Part of San wanted his boyfriend to follow him, wanted him to accost him in the bathroom again or manhandle him into the bedroom to show him exactly what he thought about San divulging every detail about his night with Wooyoung.

He knew he wouldn’t, but that knowledge didn’t stop his heart from sinking into his stomach when he poked his hopeful head into the kitchen later to find Yeosang gone from the dorm altogether.

Goading Yeosang into fucking him stupid in a flash of jealousy had failed.

Clearly, San’s idea of a ‘plan’ needed serious work.

-

Yeosang truly could not stand the feral caveman desires that had been creeping their way into his brain every time San so much as looked at Wooyoung or any of the other members.

What the fuck had gotten into him lately?

Yeosang had been known to be a little jealous at times, a little possessive of his boyfriends, and had been forced to endure their leader’s wrath several times for marking up his lovers’ soft, clear skin right before they had schedules. The makeup team certainly had their jobs cut out for them, thanks to Yeosang.

The part that bothered him the most was that he knew San was just doing it to mess with him. They were all secure enough in their relationship to be able to make jokes about clinginess or underperformance or whatever clever jab Wooyoung’s brain had conjured up to tease them about. Yeosang did not believe that Wooyoung was a better dominant than him – not by a fucking long shot – and neither did he think San believed it. 

But he did know that San and Wooyoung had a different way of communicating, be it in the bedroom or out of it, they had an unspoken, subconscious understanding of each other that didn’t need to be voiced in the same way San oftentimes had to do with Yeosang. 

They had gotten better at reading each other over the last few years, San and Yeosang, and had learned to be open with each other when they wanted to try something new. The fact that this time San had decided to beat around the bush and poke and prod at Yeosang’s ego at every opportunity left him only able to draw the conclusion that San wanted something, well, normal, because if he wanted something new, he knew how to ask properly.

Stirring the pot was a rather strange way to go about asking your boyfriend to make love to you, Yeosang thought, but hey, who was he to deny San a little teasing, bratty behaviour every now and then? Perhaps he’d give that attitude right back to him once he finally got him into bed.

It made sense to him that San was feeling a bit needy and wanted Yeosang’s attention, given how much attention Wooyoung had received from him recently, and Yeosang was nothing if not an attentive boyfriend. He cozied up to Seonghwa and managed to squeeze out some details about San’s schedules for the rest of the week, picking an upcoming night before a shared empty morning. He barely needed to convince Jongho to drag Wooyoung to a late gym session on the pretence of working on those biceps he was so determined to develop. Yeosang honestly wouldn’t have minded if Wooyoung joined in, but he also wanted to ensure San got his full attention and was treated exactly how he deserved, so he sent their other boyfriend away. They would have a plethora of opportunities to spend nights with all three of them in the future.

Clad only in boxers and a white t-shirt, Yeosang sat in the desk chair in their room as he waited for San to come home from his afternoon schedule. He ran a hand through his freshly washed hair and stared down absently at his phone, ears patiently listening for movement outside the closed bedroom door. The sound of socked footsteps caught his attention and he placed his phone on the desk, swivelling fully to face the door. Hands folded across his stomach, he leaned back in the chair as San entered their room.

“Oh. Yeosangie.” San sounded surprised, but otherwise Yeosang couldn’t quite place his tone. San’s eyes darted around the empty room. “Where’s Wooyoungie?”

“He’s at the gym with Jongho,” Yeosang replied. He levelled his gaze with San’s. “They’ll be out late, apparently, so it’s just us tonight.”

If Yeosang weren’t watching him so closely, he might have missed the hitch in San’s breath, the slight part of his lips, as he processed Yeosang’s words.

As if coming to his senses, San slowly let his bag slip off his shoulder and placed it on the floor by the closed door. “Oh? What are we gonna do then?”

Yeosang’s lips pulled into a soft smile. “C’mere, Sannie,” he beckoned, reaching out. He took San’s hands the moment he was close enough, tugging him to stand between his knees. Yeosang looked up with fond eyes at the taller man, linking their fingers together. “Kiss me?”

San tilted his head slightly, almost like he was confused by the gentle request, but obliged regardless. He dipped down and sealed his mouth over Yeosang’s, a soft hum vibrating through his chest. Yeosang smiled into the kiss, tugging at San’s hands again until he clambered into his lap - the gamer in San had insisted on getting a proper, large and comfortable desk chair, but Yeosang sometimes wondered if he’d considered this purpose for it too before buying it.

Legs bent at the knee and tucked under himself on either side of Yeosang’s thighs, San settled into his lap. His hands slid up Yeosang’s sides to cup his face, lips parting and tongue darting out to dip into the warmth of his boyfriend’s mouth. Yeosang hummed happily, his own hands resting on San’s tiny waist, letting his fingers slip under the hem of his shirt and the waistband of his pants to touch the soft skin there. San was so warm, the wet heat of his mouth and the sensitive skin under his fingertips making Yeosang’s brain grow fuzzy. He would have been content to make out with his boyfriend all night, but he had other plans, and San quickly grew restless, whining into Yeosang’s mouth and squirming in his lap.

“Sangie,” he whispered against his lips. “Come on.”

Yeosang nearly grinned, enamoured by his eagerness, but he restrained himself. “What is it, San-ah? What do you want?”

San let out a broken whine that honestly reminded Yeosang of Wooyoung. His hips stuttered, grinding his half-hard cock into Yeosang’s lap, hands clutching the hair at the base of his neck as he kissed him again. He was so needy and pliant under Yeosang’s hands, making it impossible to resist slipping his fingers further down San’s waistband to grip his ass and pull him down harder. This action only drew an even more desperate whimper from him, fuelling Yeosang to detach his lips from San’s and trail kisses down his jaw to his neck where he began sucking and licking right below San’s ear.

“Sangie, sangie.” San’s sweet noises earned him a sharp bite to the side of his neck. “For fuck’s sake, can you just put your cock in me, please?”

Yeosang did laugh this time, a shocked huff of amusement blowing out of his mouth. He squeezed San’s ass again and pulled back to regard him. His face was flushed already, eyes drooping and hair sticking up in all directions. His spit-slick lips were pink and puffy from kissing and he was panting lightly.

San looked like a complete, irresistable mess and Yeosang had barely even touched him.

Yeosang stood up suddenly, grabbing San around the thighs and walking them the few steps over to their bed. He dropped San on his back and crawled over him, returning his lips to his neck, dragging his tongue over his freckles and peppering him with wet, open-mouthed kisses. San moaned, arched his back and bared his neck for Yeosang.

“Please, Sang-ah.”

“Mm, I’m getting to it, sweetheart.”

San huffed, sharp and petulant, squirming under the weight of Yeosang’s body. He clutched his shoulders, nails digging into muscle through his thin shirt as Yeosang nipped and sucked his way down San’s neck and along his collarbone. Without needing to be asked, San removed his t-shirt and then tugged at the hem of Yeosang’s until he pulled it off, too. A deep groan rumbled through him when Yeosang then sealed his lips over one of San’s nipples.

The way San’s body curved into his was intoxicating. He was so responsive and vocal, arching and moaning into every touch. Yeosang pinched his other nipple between his fingers, rolling it around and lightly smacking San’s hand away when he tried to push him lower.

“Let me take my time with you,” he mumbled against his skin, now wet with saliva. He moved to give the other nipple the same attention. “Don’t be so greedy, Sannie.”

“Maybe I want to be,” came San’s retort after a moment. Yeosang hardly paid it any mind, sucking San’s nipple into his mouth and flicking his tongue against it until the only words San’s mind could conjure up were yes and more.

He helped San out of his pants and underwear, pressing a hand to his own hard cock through his boxers for a moment of relief, before swooping down to mouth up the length of San’s bare cock. San cried out, hands flying into Yeosang’s hair, but he wasn’t there for long. Yeosang gave San’s cock a few short pumps with his hand and then tapped his inner thigh.

“Turn over for me, love,” he instructed, meeting San’s eye again. San stared down at him for almost a moment too long but followed the order anyway. “There’s my good boy,” Yeosang praised, to which San shivered.

He maneuvered San’s body to his liking, pushing his hips up to slide a pillow beneath them with his thighs slightly spread, and rewarded him with a series of wet kisses to the small of his back. His skin was warm under Yeosang’s touch. Taking two handfuls of San’s ass, he pulled his cheeks apart to expose his pink hole. With lust-filled wonder, Yeosang watched him clench and unclench under his gaze. He waited until San let out a soft whine of protest before he finally leaned down and laved his tongue over his hole.

San choked out a sob, hips jerking in Yeosang’s grip, trying to simultaneously grind his cock against the pillow and push his ass back against Yeosang’s tongue. Yeosang held his hips firmly, fingers digging into soft flesh. He hummed against San’s skin, licking around his rim with the flat of his tongue. His eyes rolled back at the taste of him, rich and soft and something Yeosang could never get enough of. San moaned high in his throat, hips still twitching back and forth even in Yeosang’s strong hands. He smacked his ass, lips curling into a smirk when San yelped and stilled.

“Be good,” Yeosang murmured. “Be good, San-ah, and you’ll be rewarded.”

San whimpered, causing Yeosang to lift his head. He was mostly still, aside from the slight squirming of his hips, arms tucked under his head and hiding the majority of his face. Sweaty hair stuck to the back of his neck and his forehead. Eventually, as his hips settled, Yeosang saw him nod against the pillows and kissed the small of his back in response.

“Good boy.”

He dove back in, licking over and around San’s hole, relishing the soft whines that continuously slipped from his boyfriend’s mouth. Slick sounds of spit filled the room, mixed with San’s high-pitched noises and Yeosang’s quiet hum of contentment. He pointed his tongue and pushed forward until he breached the tight ring of muscle, holding down San’s hips when he bucked against him.

“Please, Sangie,” he heard San whisper. “Please. Can you– oh– can you use your fingers?”

Yeosang swallowed the saliva that had pooled in his mouth, pressing a kiss to San’s wet, messy hole. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” He sat up on his knees to retrieve the lube from the bedside table, pressing kisses along the length of San’s sweaty back as he returned. “Can you hop up on your knees for me, sweetheart?” San obliged easily this time, no longer appearing to have any defiance left in him. Yeosang wasn’t entirely sure if there was something specific San had wanted out of tonight; he could still sense some tension in his shoulders as he shifted positions. He didn’t say anything, however, and clearly hadn’t wanted to talk about it the last time Yeosang asked, so he let it be. Whenever San decided he wanted to talk was fine; Yeosang would wait.

He opened him up efficiently, twisting his first finger around and around before adding a second and scissoring them. San’s body accepted him, the soft, pliant heat of his walls clenching around the intrusion even as he rocked back to suck him in deeper. Yeosang’s clean hand rested on San’s hip, rubbing soothing circles into his skin while his eyes were trained on where his fingers had disappeared into San’s slick, pink hole.

“So pretty, Sannie. I wish you could see how you look right now. All mine.” Yeosang punctuated his sentence with a press to San’s prostate, and the sharp cry he let out reminded Yeosang of how painfully hard he was right now. “Fuck, I can’t wait to get my cock inside you.”

“Please, I need it.”

“I know, love, but you aren’t ready yet.”

“Sang-ah,” San groaned, rocking his entire body back onto Yeosang’s fingers. He lifted his head to glance over his shoulder, brows pinched together on his forehead. “Come on, just give it to me already.”

Yeosang’s lip twitched and he jammed his fingers deeper into San’s body again, making him cry out as he rubbed violently over his prostate. “Is that any way to ask for something, San-ah? That’s not how good boys ask for things.”

“Maybe I don’t—” San cut himself off with a loud whine, hands clutching at the sheets. Yeosang didn’t let up, massaging the pads of his fingers in tight circles against San’s sweet spot. The hand on San’s hip moved to his thigh, squeezing the trembling muscle. “Yeosang,” San sobbed. “Yeosang, please, I can’t—”

“What, are you gonna cum already? God, you’re so gorgeous when you’re needy, Sannie.”

Whines increasing in pitch and volume, San tossed his head back, eyes squeezed shut and tearstains down his cheeks. His body was shaking and Yeosang could tell he was reaching the end of his rope, teetering along the edge of what he could handle. He ducked his head to shove his tongue into San’s hole along with his two fingers, grinding them hard against his prostate and moaning as he felt San’s walls fluttering around his tongue. The way he tasted was intoxicating. Yeosang’s eyes rolled back as he gripped San’s strong thigh hard enough to bruise. San was sobbing, tears falling freely from his face and dripping onto the sheets like his untouched cock was dripping precum onto the bed. Still, he continued to rock back against where Yeosang’s fingers were abusing his sensitive prostate and his tongue was fucking into him relentlessly.

“Yeosangie,” came San’s choked-out moan, and Yeosang took pity on him, letting go of his thigh to wrap his hand around his cock. San squealed at the contact and it only took two strokes before he shuddered and wailed and spilled all over the sheets, grinding against Yeosang’s face to ride out his orgasm.

With a groan and a huff, San slumped onto the bed and lay in his own mess, causing Yeosang’s fingers to slip out of him. Yeosang was painfully aware of how aroused he was and knew it wouldn’t take much to send him over the edge once he got inside San’s puffy, dripping hole.

“Fuck,” he groaned, scrambling out of his boxers and taking his cock in hand, squeezing the base to stave off his impending orgasm. “Fuck, Sannie, you’re so perfect, I can’t believe how hot you sound when you cum.” He stroked a hand across San’s hip and thigh, before lubing himself up and leaning over his boyfriend’s sweaty, heaving body.

Lining up his cock, Yeosang pressed forward, the tip breaching San’s rim easily with how wet and stretched he was. He slid all the way inside in one smooth thrust, reaching deep within San’s body, and began moving immediately. Soft whimpers gurgled out of his boyfriend’s throat, a hand shooting back to grip Yeosang’s outer thigh. He recognised it as a touch of encouragement rather than protest, so he picked up his pace, repositioning himself on his knees and fucking into San on an angle that hit his sweet spot dead on.

San started squirming again and Yeosang would forever marvel at how short the man’s refractory period was. Yeosang was close already so he shortened his thrusts to keep prodding at San’s poor, sensitive prostate to bring him up to the edge with him within a minute.

Once San’s soft cries of pleasure and pain morphed into long moans, Yeosang pulled out and flipped him over. San’s face was flushed down to his chest, nipples hard and sweat beading along his hairline. He looked utterly sinful and Yeosang couldn’t help but lean down to lick a stripe along his collarbone, biting playfully at the side of his throat and dipping his tongue into the divots of his strained neck. San rubbed at his tear-stained cheeks, eyes fluttering open to look down just as Yeosang sat up and grasped his small waist with both hands, yanking his body down the bed. He maneuvered him so his ass rested on top of Yeosang’s thighs and from this angle, his cock would reach even deeper.

He fed his cock back into San’s greedy hole, using his strong grip on his waist to pull him down with each thrust. Their skin slapped together, broken groans falling out of San’s mouth evey time Yeosang sunk into his body. San’s prostate was like a livewire, his muscular thighs spasming and arms flailing every time the head of Yeosang’s cock brushed against it. Yeosang drank up the sight in front of him with his lips parted, eyes shining with affection and arousal.

The taller man was the embodiment of sin. His brows were pinched together on his forehead, sweat and tears dripping down his face with one arm thrown above his head against the pillows, the other clutching the sheets so tightly they might rip. Only the whites of his eyes were visible, half-closed and permanently rolled back in his head and his slick, full lips were parted, unintelligible noises slipping out with each slap of skin against skin. His hole was clenching around Yeosang’s cock, hot and wet and tight and so intoxicating, Yeosang felt like he was about to spill inside him any second.

“You did so well, San,” he grunted. “So good, so good just for me, fuck.”

San’s eyes finally met his, brows still creased, expression open and trusting. Yeosang whimpered, a rush of warmth crashing into his chest. He dropped San’s hips to cup his face and bent over, folding San in half so he could kiss him. He slipped his tongue into his open mouth, caressing, running along the backs of his teeth and sliding against San’s own tongue. It was sloppy and romantic and exactly the push that San needed. He felt San’s body tense, legs tightening around Yeosang’s waist where he was still fucking deep into him.

His voice was shaky when he moaned, “Sangie, sangie, sangie, please,” and Yeosang pressed their foreheads together, moving his hand between their bodies to touch his cock.

“Cum for me, Sannie, come on. You did so well, sweetheart, you were so perfect, so good, so– oh– so gorgeous. I love you so much, baby, please cum for me.”

San did, much quieter than usual. His legs locked around Yeosang’s waist in a vice grip, hands clutching at his strong shoulders as a long, high-pitched but soft moan was dragged from his throat, shooting all over Yeosang’s hand and their stomachs.

“Fuck, there we go, so good, all mine,” Yeosang mumbled incoherently. He dropped his head to the sweaty, flushed crook of San’s neck and elongated his thrusts, finally chasing his own high. San whimpered with each slap of skin against skin. He would be unbelievably sensitive now, Yeosang knew. He groaned against San’s skin, sucking a mark into his shoulder to stifle his noises as San’s overstimulated body clenched around his cock, tightening the wet heat he was fucking into. “God, Sannie, yes, that feels so good. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Please cum,” San whimpered, voice hoarse. “Fill me up, I need it, please, please, please, please Yeosangie—”

San’s sweet begging sent him spiralling, the tight pressure at building in his spine and the base of his cock finally snapping and he spilled inside San’s hole with a sharp cry, grinding his hips against him and abusing his poor, sensitive prostate. San let out a weak sob, fresh tears falling from his eyes and tickling Yeosang’s ear. His hips twitched under Yeosang, spent cock squashed between their bodies as Yeosang flopped on top of him, panting heavily against his neck.

It took several minutes of breathing in silence as they regained their senses before San groaned, tapping Yeosang on the shoulder. “Get off me. You’re heavy,” he complained. Yeosang could hear the pout in his voice. 

He pressed a long, closed-mouth kiss to San’s shoulder before pulling out and rolling off. San hissed at the emptiness, at the feeling of Yeosang’s cum dripping out of his hole and down his crack. Yeosang sat up to look at the mess pooling on the sheets between San’s legs, and it took every ounce of control to not scoop up his release and finger it back into San’s shiny pink hole.

“Don’t even think about it,” San grumbled, as if reading Yeosang’s mind. He closed his legs.

“Don’t say that like you’d even try to stop me if I did,” Yeosang retorted. He let his voice drop to a deeper tone. “Besides, I’d just be putting it back where it belongs.”

San stared at him for a moment, eyes still wet and shining. He lips were parted, cheeks flushed, and Yeosang almost expected him to cave, to start begging for a round two.

The idea of being owned, claimed by his boyfriends, of being marked and plugged up with cum was something that Wooyoung enjoyed, but San had entertained the idea a few times before and given his clingy, needy behaviour lately, Yeosang wondered if that’s the angle he’d been coming from in acting out and getting Yeosang to snap. If that was the case, Yeosang wasn’t sure if he’d hit the mark or not.

What he wasn’t expecting was for San to jut his chin out and raise a single eyebrow, lips pulling into a smirk as he said, “Oh, is that so?”

Realisation came crashing down on Yeosang all at once, filling his chest and making his stomach jolt as all the dots connected inside his mind.

What San had wanted tonight wasn’t to be treasured and praised. He was behaving like Wooyoung because he wanted to be treated like Wooyoung. San wanted Yeosang to rough him up and force him into submission, to punish him and claim him and put him in his place. He wanted Yeosang to ruin him.

The subtle disobedience hadn’t been enough to clue him in on San’s headspace. He was always so much harder to read than Wooyoung, and Yeosang always felt the need to check in with him more often. He thought he had been. He thought he’d done everything San had asked. But it seemed he’d failed to do his job this time, not only as San’s dom, but as his boyfriend, too.

Without another word, Yeosang leaned in and kissed the smirk right off San’s face, licking into his mouth and sucking on his tongue, making all thoughts of how Yeosang hadn’t fully satisfied him tonight fly right out of his pretty head.

He would do better next time. 

Next time, he would come up with a proper plan to ruin his pretty, naughty little boyfriend.

San would get what he deserved.

[arakawa-division]

The sun was at its peak in Arakawa as Hoàng Diệu was about to step into the shower, getting ready for the day ahead of her. This morning, she had awoken to a knock on her door, and when she went to open it, there was a deliveryman with a package for her. 

Inside the package was a set of luxury hair care products looking to be worth hundreds of dollars. Naturally,  Diệu was ecstatic to receive such a wonderful gift and immediately wanted to put it to use, especially since she read the note saying the gift was from a “client” of hers. 

Hoàng-san,

“I heard it was your birthday today, and since you helped me pick out some lovely jewelry a while ago, I wanted to send you a gift as thanks.”

Shame the sender decided to remain anonymous. Oh, well. No skin off Diệu’s back. Since she still needed to get ready for the day Diệu grabbed the hair products and headed towards her shower.

— 20 Minutes Later —

There was nothing quite like stepping out of hot water Diệu thought as she stepped out of her shower. She would have stayed longer but needed to open her jewelry store soon. Just as Diệu was about to leave the bathroom,  she noticed something odd in her reflection in the mirror. The mirror was fogged up due to how hot she had her shower, so Diệu couldn't quite tell what was wrong. The so-called “Femme Fatale” got the shock of her life when she wiped the fog off the mirror. Her beautiful light purple hair was now a vile shade of vomit green, and that wasn’t the worst part. No, it got worse when Diệu went to touch her hair and,  to her horror, pulled a chunk of it out with ease. 

How the hell did this happen? Who the fuck did this to her? 

— Much Earlier —

“I never thought I’d see the day where you act so petty, Yuriko.”

“Petty? I absolutely despise backstabbers no matter the reason so I want to do far worse Kaoru but I’ll have to be satisfied with this for now.” 

“…Geez and I thought I was theatrical.”

“Now think you can pull something together for me?”

“Who do you think you’re talking to? Of course, I can. Anything specific in mind?” 

“She takes extreme pride in her appearance so something along that line.”

“Say no more. I got you, fam.”

“Excellent”  

— Many Hours Later —

"Yuriko!" Kanra called out to the woman who was reading in her living room.

"What is it, Kanra?" Yuriko asked, looking up as the girl brought a small package to her.

"Package for you." Kanra answered, handing it to her surrogate mother, who looked at it curiously, yet with caution. Opening it, she looked as inside was an intricate jewelry box that was quite pleasing to the eye. As it was placed in the matriarch's palm, both women looked with shock as it suddenly opened and what looked like a small robotic butterfly flew out of it, and suddenly...

...it released an endless spray of glitter that smelled of lotus flowers directly at the matriarch, shocking her and getting glitter everywhere in the room. Screaming, she tried to grab it, but the creature continued flying around the room, spraying glitter everywhere. It would have continued to do so had the matriarch, after getting her bearings (and eyesight) back, threw a spare knife from her back pocket into it, destroying it, making it fall onto the living room floor.

As she was breathing heavily, both Yuriko and Kanra (who managed to not get any glitter on her at all, somehow), looked at the carnage that was now their living room as it was completely covered with what could be consider the art world's STD. It would no doubt took a good chunk of time to get all of this cleaned up.

"Kanra," Yuriko called out to her youngest daughter, a dangerous presence in her voice. "Who delivered this?"

"I... don't know," Kanra answered, slightly scared. "It was already on the doorstep when I checked."

Not liking the answer, Yuriko looked down at the package the jewelry box came in and looked inside, trying to see if there was anything that could ascertain as to who sent this. Fortunately for her, there was a package inside, which read:

"Yuriko,

A flutter of wings, a burst of sparkle. May this little spectacle remind you of life's unexpected turns. Just a bit of harmless fun to add some shine to your day. Remember, every lotus petal has its thorn, or in this case, its glitter.

With a twinkle, as well as hugs and kisses,

Hoàng Diệu ♡"

P.S. "Next time you try to send me a gag gift, I recommend bathing first. I smelled nothing but caffeine emitting off of that birthday package you sent me."

As Yuriko finished the letter, she crumpled it in her fist, even more upset than before. Kanra, now even more scared, started to back away, pointing to the kitchen.

"I, uh... I think I'll go get started on dinner."

"...That would be for the best."

[twilightmalachite]

Raison d’être - The Nameless Girl 6

Author: Akira

Characters: Shu, Mika

Translator: Mika Enstars

"It is physiologically unbearable to me, but since it is your style, I should show understanding, shouldn’t I?"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Winter

Location: Apartment in France

One week later. Paris, at the house Itsuki Shu is boarding at…

Shu: (Since then…)

(Things have not progressed like we had hoped.)

(There is no word from Mr. Raffaello, who had always been pestering us, and he doesn’t seem to be appearing in front of us any time soon.)

(It appears regretfully, Mr. Raffaello never made it to Paris, despite saying he’ll come to Paris one step ahead of us—Perhaps he’s nothing but a lying fraud after all?)

(No, by declaring him to be a “lying fraud”, the whole truth has come to light.)

(Both of those oddly-significant diaries are forgeries, fabricated by the dishonest Mr. Raffaello. They are not fact, but fictitious stories.)

(Grandfather never was unfaithful.)

(He never had an affair, and never betrayed Grandmother and the Itsuki family.)

(And of course, “MADEMOISELLE”, a woman with apparent eternal youth, cannot exist.)

(It all was nothing but fiction.)

(Perhaps the fraud, Mr. Raffaello, learnt about the Mademoiselle doll somewhere, and incorporated a woman who shared her appearance into the plot.)

(However, by fabricating a “story” with significance that appeals to me, it lost its sense of reality.)

(A woman who does not age, no matter how much time passes… Hmph, simply ridiculous.)

(“MADEMOISELLE” was but a fictional character, just as I thought.)

(All of it, a fabrication by an irreverent fraud claiming to be the son of this non-existent woman, in an attempt to snatch away Grandfather’s inheritance—)

(That’s what should be the case… but.)

Mika: … …

Shu: (Ever since I boasted that “truth” earlier, Kagehira has been acting strangely.)

(Why is that? He’s completely absent-minded, like a black cat that just has awoken from his nap.)

(It’s been too long for it to be jet lag… I wonder why, it’s like he’s brooding over something strangely.)

Mika: … …

Shu: Kagehira, are you listening to me? Hello~?

Mika: …Nnah? Ah, umm? I’ve… always wanted t’try the thing called foie gras!

Shu: Nobody here is talking about what to have for lunch! Although it is about that time.

Either way, Foie gras is currently banned in the modern day due to its unethical method of raising.[1]

Mika: I know that, but I’m still curious…♪

Shu: As always, you like your grotesque things. Indiscriminately arranging eyeballs and bones and the like…

It is physiologically unbearable to me, but since it is your style, I should show understanding, shouldn’t I?

Mika: Nnah~, it’d make me happy if ya liked what I liked, Oshi-san!

Foie gras, huh… Ehehe, jus’ talkin’ ‘bout it’s makin’ me wanna eat it.

Shu: Hm. By bringing up the disgusting dish that is foie gras, do you mean to implicitly ridicule me by saying the method I raised you was wrong?

Mika: No, no, there's no way I’d be so sarcastic in such a roundabout way?!

Shu: Then straighten yourself up.

Although it is a letdown that the mysterious phenomena surrounding Mr. Raffaello and the diaries are nothing but inflated exaggerations…

Mika: ……

Shu: What we have to do remains unchanged. To win the Funeral Contest, we must come up with the sort of funeral Grandfather desires.

Mika: Nnah~… That bein’ said, I feel we’re at a checkmate…

Shu: How many times do I have to tell you, that is a misuse of “checkmate”![2] Your memory is poor as always, you know!

Mika: (Nnah~, Oshi-san’s gettin’ irritated again.)

(When he was lookin’ into the diaries, his eyes were sparklin’ like a lil’ kid’s…)

(Nah, it’s inadequate ‘cause there's no dreams or fun in “Raffaello-san was a fraud”—I bet he’s dissatisfied with that conclusion.)

(In Oshi-san’s head, a “story” that was much more pleasant, exhilaratin’, and precious must’ve been unfoldin’.)

(So havin’ a splash of cold water over him while he was enjoyin’ himself lost in his fantasies might’ve dampened his spirits all at once.)

(And ‘cause of that—)

Shu: Perhaps we should have the funeral be a blend of Japanese and Western styles after all, as a combination of the Itsuki family’s traditions and Grandfather’s tastes. …Something like, a row of cross-shaped tombstones, how about that?

Mika: (What do you mean, “how about that?”~… This is bad~, Oshi-san’s way too dispirited and uninspired!)

(I-I think it’ll be tough winnin’ the Funeral Contest at this rate…)

[ ☆ ]

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This is because foie gras is harvested through massively overfeeding geese prior to butchering. Foie gras means “fatty liver”.

The expression Mika used here originally was 煮詰まって, lit. boiled down. It means “to reach a conclusion”, but is more commonly misused to mean “to reach an impasse”, which has quite the opposite meaning. I opted for “checkmate” as a checkmate implies the end of a game, yet it’s often used when “stalemate” would be more appropriate.

[sayakxmi]

[Magi reread] Night 13: Magician of World Creation

I should, once again, go the fuck to sleep, but, like. One more chapter.

You're a lazy, spoiled piece of shit of a person who believes that just because you're rich or whatever-the-fuck-else, then suddenly the world owes you something.

Oh my sweet summer child. (Also, trying to recognize Aladdin's silhouette).

Rest in pieces.

Ok, but can we, like, fucking talk for a second that ALIBABA FUCKING DODGED MORGIANA'S KICK. Like, how fast was that kick. Was she, like, going a bit slower, because she didn't want to kill him? Because, like, we know she doesn't, but also holy shit. What are these reflexes, Alibaba. Fr tho, she definitely wasn't going all out, but still.

Oh, drop that smile, asshole. You did literally nothing.

Also, I lowkey recall something about Ohtaka saying that Morgiana wears no underwear, and I am incapable of not thinking about it seeing this pose.

An attempt is being made.

Ok, Alibaba can pull tricks here and there, but he looks genuine here, and I actually believe that he is. Like, Balbadd was notably that one country (sans Sindria) where slavery was illegal, so for Alibaba slavery wasn't an everyday thing until he had to run from Balbadd. Like, don't get me wrong, he's absolutely trying to appeal to Morgiana, because she's dangerous, but he means it when he says that she should fight for her freedom, and we know he wouldn't use her, period. He tried to use Aladdin, and look what happened - total failure, because he just isn't the type of person that's capable of using others.

You tried, gold star.

Damn, Alibaba is just never living his best life. Also, you ever think how most Households don't like or are a literal danger to their Kings?

Also, now I'm kind of wondering, cuz I don't recall whether Morgiana's ever apologized for it. Like, don't get me wrong, I don't blame her, and I know neither would Alibaba, he's ridiculously forgiving, but, like, I wonder if she felt bad later on. Probably? To both Alibaba and Aladdin, honestly, though Aladdin, too, definitely doesn't blame her. But, like, I just wonder.

Can somebody, please, punch Jamil 2.0.

Man, I could use some Alibaba Angst rn, but, sadly, I'd have to write it myself. But oh well. But also, damn, that's a lot of blood.

Also, no, he doesn't think he can use her, because he has no intention of using her, fuck off.

Is Alibaba's blood literally splattering here

Congrats, you literally kicked a guy who was already down - no thanks to you, might I add.

I really wish Morgiana's trauma had a bit more focus, ngl.

Everybody's lives are sad as shit. But goddammit.

The boy has awoken.

Fuck the both of you, actually - Aladdin, probably.

Alibaba, after being thrown onto a stone pillar by a Fanalis, and then kicked several times by that one asshole, to the point of splattering his blood on the guy's face: I'm ok, you be careful :) (I love him)

Morgiana still processing what happened (fair). And Alibaba, that is the definition of not being ok.

Birbs.

Also, no, seriously, I legit need some fanfic of the three of them kinda processing what happened there, but, like, in hindsight. When it was happening it was all scary and very tense and all that, but once things are calmer, just kinda looking back at the shit that happened there.

More birds, and also Alibaba, you are NOT ok.

Firs of all, Jamil's about to be fucking surprsied. Second of all, damn, Alibaba, you were hit damn hard.

It's been several pages & bro still can't stand up. Which makes perfect sense, but damn.

Hell yeah, fuck his shit up.

What can I say except !!!!!!!!!!

The fuck do you mean photo limit. I had to delete two photos to fit the remaining ones.

Ok, but Aladdin looks like a badass here.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO