#THE WAY THE ROPE TELEPORTED AROUND MY NECK
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sahisan · 1 month ago
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SUKUME IS A PROSHIP NOW WHAT...
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violetbutterflix · 4 months ago
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Kinktober masterlist here!
2.Vampire Chuuya:
Warnings: biting, marking, light bondage, and fem!reader
Summary: As a vampire hunter, it’s your duty to protect civilians from danger—especially from bloodthirsty vampires that rise with the night. It’s your job to capture the most wanted vampire in the village, not the other way around.
You are on night duty, walking through the forest to ensure no intruders enter the village. It’s so quiet that you can hear your own breath, along with the familiar sounds of the forest animals. Normally, this wouldn’t bother you, but after a traumatic experience you've had in the past, you’ve learned never to let your guard down. Suddenly, you can feel predatory eyes watching you, waiting for the right moment to attack.
Instinctively, you turn around and find a figure dangerously close. The dim moonlight illuminates his face just enough to reveal his features. It’s another vampire—one whose face you’ve seen on wanted posters. He carries a high bounty, making him the top target for other vampire hunters. Without hesitation, you draw your pistol and shoot.
Usually you would give a warning, but not this time. Chuuya dodges the silver bullet effortlessly and then raises a leg to hit you in the side of the face. You deflect the attack with your arm, forcing him to retreat and jump back. With some distance, you raise your pistol again and aim at him a second time.
“I will not miss this time.” You threaten, your cold ice eyes sharply fixed on him.
Now that you have a better look at him, you have to admit. He looks very handsome with soft ginger hair, probably the one with the most attractive vampire you’ve encountered in all of your years hunting them down. The trim of his fedora hat covers his eyes, giving him that mysterious aura that makes you want to discover more about his identity.
"Another damn vampire hunter in my territory. You must have a death wish." Chuuya ignores your threat, cracking his knuckles twice, each time with a loud sound. With a wide smirk, he says, "Good, I was bored as hell anyway. Do me a favor: don't die too fast.”
You shoot again, directly at him. He doesn't even try to dodge as he charges toward you. There's no way your bullet can miss—you're sure of it. So where is it?
Your eyes widen when you see the bullet clenched between his white teeth. Instinctively, your free hand reacts, throwing a punch at his face. His quick movements allow him to easily escape your strike, but you manage to brush against his hair. Then Chuuya vanishes into thin air.
Now you understand why his bounty is so high—not many vampires can teleport like that. He clearly has far better combat skills than the others you've killed before. Before you can figure out where he’s gone, an arm wraps around your neck from behind. You twist your head, aiming your pistol at his chest, and shoot again. But he raises his leg, kicking the pistol out of your grasp. The silver bullet misses his heart, hitting the side of his chest instead. His suit tears, revealing a small trail of blood.
His arm tightens around you, making it hard for you to breathe. His free gloved hand holds both of your wrists behind your back as he pins you against a nearby tree. “You seem to forget that we vampires get stronger at night, huh?”
“Fuck you vampire…” You curse, trying to escape his tight grip, but unfortunately, you can't. His arm leaves your neck, reaching into your pocket. Then you feel something against your wrists, a hard material holding them in place. Is Chuuya using your own rope to tie you up?
“A feisty one, huh?” he smirks, softly whispering as he nibbles the shell of your ear. Your threats mean nothing to him; they're rather amusing.“You better watch your words. You’re under my control.”
His other gloved hand travels to your chest, slowly unbuttoning your shirt. He aggressively pulls the fabric down to your back, revealing your clear, glowing skin under the moonlight. His hand moves to your face, covering your eyes as he tilts your head. You feel his tongue on your skin, trailing from your shoulder to your neck, as if he’s savoring a delicious five star dish before him.
He opens his mouth, revealing long, sharp fangs before sinking them deep into your flesh. You groan in pain as he drinks your blood hungrily, as though he's been starved for centuries, and your blood is the only thing that can quench his thirst. It’s like a drug to him, making him crave more until he's completely overdosed. His legs in between yours, knee slowly rubbing against your crotch.
You feel absolutely disgusted by him sucking your blood and by allowing yourself to be this vulnerable. And you're even more disgusted with yourself for enjoying it, taking some form of pleasure despite the pain.
“You wanted this, don't you doll?” Chuuya teases, kissing the area that he has bitten on your neck. “You think I haven't seen how you always try to chase after me these months like a desperate little slut? Now look at you; you're here and looking at me with those pretty eyes of yours.”
You hiss, not denying his assumption. “Like what?”
His lips move down to your exposed shoulder, dropping small kisses. “Like you want to be eaten.” He bites you again, harder than before. You can feel his fangs pierce deeper, almost reaching your bones.
You let out a moan, the sound echoing through the silent forest. Chuuya laughs when he hears such a cute noise. His hand trails down to your chin, tilting your head as his thumb traces your lower lip. He then places a forceful kiss on your lips, biting your lower lip. You kiss him back, giving him a taste of his own medicine, as your tongues fight against each other, neither of you willing to give in during this heated moment. His knee separates from your crotch, replacing with his growing bulge inside. You can feel how big it is. Your panties get wetter every second.
He pulls away, causing a strand of saliva to form between your wet tongue and his. “Fuck, doll, I think I’m starting to like you now.” His mouth returns to assault your skin, biting you until you're covered in his marks, claiming his territory. You are his joy, his prized possession in life.
"You're mine. The only one who gets to see you like this and take your blood is me. Understood?”
You don't object to his claim, only nodding as you moan. You need him badly, your body craving for him to fuck you however he wants—to be at his mercy. He understands that too. “So fucking wet for me already? How cute.”
Eagerly, he pulls down your pants to your ankle and your panties in a swift motion; his own pants and boxers fall down right after. Both of his hands are now settled on your ass, spreading your cheeks as he puts his free huge cock in the middle.
“The night is still young, so let's get the fun started, pretty doll.”
@thewickedjazzy
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tothosewholisten · 8 months ago
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Forever Healed | TUA insert
Chapter: 03
<<previous chapter | next chapter>>
Masterlist
17 YEARS AGO
It was during my first week there that I'd finally be let to do something with the other kids. I didn't know what I hoped it to be but it wasn't this.
All of us kids stood at the bottom of a lengthy spiral staircase waiting for Reginald’s go. Minus a brown hair girl who stood at the top with her father looking down pitifully at us, I'd never seen that day with the rest of the kids before. I didn't know any of these people yet. And they didn’t know me. So when the morning began they were confused about who this girl was with the same green with white stripe tracksuit as them.
I looked up at Reginald as he wrote something in a big book, probably his journal but I had no idea what it could be.
Nietzsche once said. ��Man is as a rope stretched between the animal and the superhuman. A rope over an abyss. It is a dangerous crossing, a dangerous looking back, a dangerous trembling and halting.’
Reginald gives the brown-haired girl a look and she blows the whistle tied around her neck. They all burst into action but I stood there for a second. I was still very new to things so I followed the crowd as they raced up the stairs. I wasn't a fast runner at all but I kept up. Never falling to last place.
As much as you must strive for individual greatness, and strive you must, for it won't come to you of its own accord..
The blonde boy was first and the rest of us just tried to catch up to him. The stairs were steep and rickety, they did not make for a good run at all. I was next to the curly-haired girl who was in third, we both tried our best to keep moving but never wanting to push each other.
You must also remember that there is no individual stronger than the collective.
The one boy who could teleport blinks up in front of the blonde boy and takes the lead.
“That’s not fair, Five’s cheating!” Whined the boy who could throw knives, who was second before he teleported up.
“He adapted.” Yelled Reginald from the top.
..
The scene in front of me was terrifying beyond belief. I'd just been given my uniform and called into one of the house's many halls along with everyone else. In the middle, there was a man who was working on a tattoo, on Diego’s arm. Who’s name I just learned.
I could tell he was trying not to cry, but by the way, he was moving in his chair, I could tell that this was hurting him. I wanted to go up and hold his hand and use my powers. But I was given a disapproving look from Reginald so instead I sat in one of the chairs next to Five and waited for my dreaded turn.
The tattoo was in the shape of an umbrella, our logo.
The ties that bind you together, make you stronger than you are alone.
Behind Diego was Alison and Klaus who already had gotten their tattoos and were crying holding each other in support. I also wanted to go up to them, and help. I thought I could help everyone in the room with my powers and at least take away the pain but not the image.
They will make you impervious to the pain and hardship the world will thrust upon you.
Behind me, I could see Grace and Reginald standing next to each other, witnessing the children’s crying hysterics. Not either of them showed an ounce of sympathy for what we were going through.
And believe me when I tell you, life will be hard. It will be painful.
The old man walks away leaving Grace to watch by herself. She had her eyes on the girl at the top of the flight of stairs, Vanya. I was confused why she wasn't sitting next to me getting her own branding like the rest of us.
She took out a sharpie from her uniform and drew a figure on her arm.
We can accomplish anything.
Hours passed and It was time for bed, is what Grace told us. All of the kids looked less in pain from what the day did to us, almost joyful that it was over. But for me as someone who could heal all my wounds ever. The tattoo pain increased tenfold than it was when I got it. I was in agony before I fell asleep. Still in my plain room.
When we accept responsibility together. This is what creates trust.
..
Reginald was monitoring all of the kids with wires connected to their heads that night. A weird scene at best. None of them would ever discover this crazy fact until adulthood. He sat in his study, writing and watching the children’s brain waves as they slept. As well as security camera footage of each one.
Together, you will stand against the reign of evil.
The loudest beeping came from Vanya, something that Reginald looked shocked at before going back to writing in his journal.
..
PRESENT DAY
I gave myself time to just rest in my bed. The thought of Ben was a virus in my mind that wouldn't go away, at what point do you have to tell yourself to let go?
On my way to the kitchen I passed Vanya leaving, I stopped to say bye and when I did she hugged me. And told me to look after myself. Then she walked out the door, I do hope I see her again.
“Hey N/n” Klaus looked at me worriedly. He was strumming a guitar while sitting on one of the chairs in the kitchen.
“Hi,” I said quietly and took a seat in the chair closest to him. Five paced around the room looking for something when Alison walked in.
“Where’s Vanya?” She asked.
“You just missed her. She left.” I say back.
“That’s unfortunate,” Five remarks, standing in front of a shelf. But he slowly turns to where the three of us sit
“An entire square block. Forty-two bedrooms, 19 bathrooms, but no, not a single drop of coffee.” He said, dropping an empty can onto the table.
Alison gives him a confused look. “Dad hated caffeine.”
“Well, he hated children too, and he had plenty of us!” Klaus laughs, falling back into his slanted chair.
Alison didn't find his joke very funny, but I did. It was true after all.
Five looks down, his expression a mix of anger and yearning. “I'm taking the car.” He says.
Klaus puts the guitar down, getting more interested in this conversation. “Where are you going?” He asks. Probably with the hope that he could come too. Our sandwich idea didn't work out, and it was too dark now.
“To get a decent cup of coffee.” Five exclaims.
“Do you even know how to drive?” Alison crosses her arms.
“I know how to do everything.” And he blinks away.
Klaus's reaction is delayed. He stands up after Five leaves and holds out his hand like he's still there. “I feel like we should try and stop him.” He turns back to us. “But then again, I also just kinda want to see what happens.”
We all turned our heads to the wall as we heard noises from the outside. It was a car engine turning on, proof that Five wasn't bluffing. Now I kinda wish I could join him. The car speeds off and we hear Diego’s lovely voice as he walks into the room.
“All right, I guess I'll see you guys in, what, ten years? When Pogo dies next?” He says.
“Not if you die first.” I smile. Klaus bursts out into fits of laughter as Alison fake coughs to mask hers.
“Yeah, well love you too Y/n.”
He stops at Alison. “Good luck on your next film.” Was he actually being nic— “Hope it turns out better than your marriage, huh?” No of course not..
Diego finally walks away when Alison looks like she’s about to say something but she turns her back and walks away instead in the opposite direction.
“Gotta run sweetie, love you!” Klaus calls out before running after Diego.
I sigh as I hear the sound of them leaving in Diego's car. I'm surprised by the fact that he even has one. I'm left by myself once again, now I'm not sure what to do at all. So I went back to my room.
..
On my long walk home, because I wasn't in the mood to wait for a taxi, I passed by Giddy's Doughnuts. My old place of employment when I left the Academy. I had a job there to earn some money to get on my feet.
I wasn't going to take any handouts because of my “last name” and definitely wasn't getting any money from Reginald. Well, I doubt he’d ever give me any because I did technically run away.
Since Klaus ditched me to hang out with the less cool Diego, I thought I'd stop by and say hello to Agnes.
“What the fu—“ I screamed as I walked through the door. There were Five absolutely beating the shit out of like six people.
Their bodies lay on the floors in their own pools of blood. Five looked petrified at the sound of my voice, dropping the man whose neck he just snapped.
His face switches back to a calm one as he sees me staring at them. “Don’t try to help them, it's not worth it.” He says walking to the large island in front of the doughnuts. “Come here and help me with this.”
I walk over immediately trying not to step on any parts of these men. “Fiv-“
He cuts me off. “Cut open my arm, will you? Right here.” My face drops.
“Aren’t you the one who can heal people? Come on.” Five rushes. I forgot that we barely know each other, well I know more about him than he does about me. Because he ran away at such an odd time in our lives.
I gulped down the puke that was about to come up and grabbed the knife he was holding out. I cut slowly into his upper arm, he told me to make a slice and when I did he barely flinched. After I put my hand on him to start to heal the wound. And I felt the urge to say sorry for what I'm doing but then he stops me.
“What is that?” I ask, pointing to the beeping device he rips out of his arm.
“I'll explain later, come with me.” He says getting up. But letting me heal him first.
We walk out of Griddy's and he drops the device in a puddle. Looking back at the stores I feel bad for Agnes. I could see her pink headwear poking out from behind the island. At least she wasn't hurt.
..
Five blinked us upstairs into someone’s apartment. I knew it wasn’t his own so I started to get suspicious. “Who lives here?” I ask but get no response.
All of a sudden whoever lives here keys, start to rattle the door as they walk in. Surprisingly instead of some random person that five was going to kill and steal their house. It was Vanya opening the door. I felt a sense of relief.
“Jesus!” She whisper shouts, seeing the two of us in her apartment. We sat on her two living room chairs as Five turned on a lamp to scare her.
“You should have locks on your windows.” He says
“I live on the second floor”
“Rapists can climb” he states and I give him a look.
“You are so weird,” I say. Vanya closes the door and sits on the couch next to us.
No one talks for a second before Vanya asks a question.
“Why are you guys here? And why together?” She asked. I was about to tell her that I'd been kidnapped by a teenager when Five spoke up.
He sighs. “I’ve decided that you're the only one I can trust.” I glanced at him. “The only two I can trust.” He corrects himself.
“Why me?” She questions.
“Because you’re ordinary.” I gave him another glance. “Because you’ll listen.”
He groans. “When I jumped foward and got stuck in the future, do you know what I found?” He asked us.
“No” Vanya shakes her head.
“Nothing, absolutely nothing.” He paused. “As far as I could tell, I was the last person left alive. I never figured out what killed the human race, but. I did find something else.”
“What was it?” I asked. The suspense was killing me.
“The date it happens. The world ends in eight days, and I have no idea how to stop it.”
My jaw was hanging on the ground, that's how much it opened hearing his news. Vanya sat there looking the same.
“I'll put on a pot of coffee.”
Aug 14 update:
If you'd like to be added to the tag list for rest of the series (starts at chapter 10) say taglist in the comments!
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sparrowrye · 10 months ago
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Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A2 part 28 (fixed)
Synopsis: It’s been over a year since we were brought under Alastor’s watchful eye. We’ve unlocked our Demonic powers, discovered our own talents, and began building the Safe Haven with Charlie and co. Alastor seems increasingly interested in the power we hold as one and intends to use it properly.
Previous part
Part 28: my turn
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Adam had tied me to a chair in an empty, stale, and cold metal room, then left me. I was alone with a headband strapped on to keep my magic away. My connection with Alastor was slow to return, strands gradually stringing together and re-tying the knots. It wasn't entirely gone, to my great relief, but it took a lot of time for it to mend itself.
Some time later, when our connection was a bit stronger, I felt him panic. My own panic rose in my throat as I tried wrenching my limbs out of the tight ropes pinning them to the chair. This was all part of Blackwater's plan. It had to be. He was trying to separate us.
The thought I might be just as dangerous that he would need to keep me away and contained, sent a flare of pride in my chest.
A minute later, the panic turned to genuine fear. I let out a loud cry as I tried to pull my limbs free, blood dripping down from where the rope dug into my skin. I reached for my magic but it wasn't there. I threw my head back against the wall but there was no wall. The force threw me backwards and I landed painfully on my back as well as my tied hands with a loud echo. My hands throbbed in pain.
Our connection grew stronger, still. Pain came shooting through it. Something was cutting into the sides of his head and I let out a scream, feeling as if he was screaming through me. I banged my head against the floor in an effort to remove the headband but, like before, the important part of the contraption was on the front most part of my head.
I stopped thrashing and went strangely still. I closed my eyes and pushed through the pain of our connection. His presence was far, very far, and his magic was even further. I anchored myself to our connection and veered off. My magic was all over the place but I found myself drawing them closer together. It was slow and took all my concentration, sometimes losing the pieces when Alastor let out another scream. What was Blackwater doing to him?
I was running out of time. I used what little magic I had and imagined lava sprouting from the metal headband. It felt like I was sweating and my back contorted from the amount of mental effort this was taking. I was doing it, but I could lose it within a millisecond if I lost focus. Take it slow. You'll get to him in time.
Trust the process.
My body felt like it was shaking. My head was throbbing from the work, pulsing beneath the headband and into my neck. So close. Almost there.
Alastor screamed again. My metaphorical hands fumbled, nearly losing the balance of it all. I was going to get to him. I could get to him in time.
Just hold out for me.
Searing pain blinded me and I was abruptly thrown back into the chair, all my progress lost. I let out a cry as the pain dared to break through my skull. My magic flew into my hands and the ropes around my limbs burst into flames. I rolled off the fallen chair and wiped my forehead free of...magma?
The headband had melted and my magic was back.
I had done it.
I closed my eyes and clawed my way through our soul connection. Alastor's energy was gone and the connection almost felt transparent. I kept moving, faster and faster, desperation fueling my adrenaline. I tried calling out to him but he wasn't responding.
He felt limb. Defeated. Gone.
My shadow touched his and I melted with it, stealing the last of his energy and power to teleport myself. I stayed in a shadow and crept along the wall, my mind expanding as the shadow enclosed the room entirely.
Alastor was strapped to a near horizontal chair and a surgeon was using a terrifying-looking tool on the side of his head. His entire face and side was coated in dark blood. His eyes were closed but he was still alive.
Alcine sprouted from my shadow's shoulder and took our Dragon form, mouth opening wide along the wall in a howl. Alastor's shadow weaved through the floor and towered behind the surgeon, drawing open his sharp, wide mouth, cackling as Alastor had always done.
I pulled myself through the wall and took my Demon form, the shadows unwrapping my body and separating from each other, still connected to me at my feet. I took a few steps forward and stopped, narrow eyes watching the surgeon as he backed away from me, from Alastor. I'm not sure what he was trying to do to him but I didn't care. Alcine grabbed his feet and dragged him across the floor.
His soul was bright, bright with fear, and I obeyed the urge to wrap my own hands around it. I gave a testing pull, his soul making a horrible sound like chalk on a chalkboard as I attempted to separate his soul from his body. Surprised by this new skill, I let the soul snap back into its original place. A moment later I impaled my claws into his chest right over his heart. His eyes widened, mouth probably agape behind the mask, and sputtered on his own blood.
I yanked my claws out and stood up, abandoning his withering form as his soul slowly merged with mine and came trapped beside the many other souls I still held onto.
I undid the belt covered his eyebrows and caught his head as it limped forward. I attempted to heal the massive wound, stitching his skin back together before he could wake up to feel the pain. It was slow. My magic felt like I was walking through mud. It took a lot of concentration just to stop the bleeding. There must be more of Blackwater's magic dampening technology.
I briefly stopped healing and let Alcine and Alastor's shadow run through the huge factory. They found any wires they could and snapped them. I had to lean against Alastor's still form as all my concentration and energy was diverted to the shadows.
Finally, the heavy mugginess disappeared and my full power returned. I gently grabbed Alastor's face, hands covered in his blood, and continued my healing. I healed it just enough that his skin was molded back together and the bleeding had stopped. I gave some of my energy to him and felt him stir.
"What did they do to you?" I whispered, thumb smearing blood across his cheek.
The door flew open. Blackwater stood in the doorway, eyes widening at the sight of me. Immediately I threw vines at him as he did to me. It impaled my shoulder, my chest, and threw me on my back. I sucked in air as I pulled the vine out, realizing too late that it had huge thorns. I barely healed the injury as I sat up with a groan.
I saw Blackwater on his back, my own vine impaling him in the same place. I wrenched it free and his head snapped up to look at me. He used his good arm to push himself to a sitting position.
"How did—"
I launched at him before he could finish. He casted fire right under me and I used wind to throw myself higher. I landed awkwardly on my back outside the room and rolled to face him. Bullets grazed my arm as guards began shooting at me. I weaved around the pillars of the balcony above and used a 'force field' to evade the bullets.
Blackwater chased me with more fire. He bent the metal under my feet, casted objects at my head, threw wind into my side, and pulled water out of nowhere to drown me.
I casted the water away and threw his form into one of the pillars. I moved to jump but a vine sprouted from the floor to grip my ankle. The gunshots continued. I bent their guns skyward and heard a few of them backfire painfully.
More vines appeared. They laced together and stretched over my head. Within seconds I was in a ball of horned vines.
"You're harder to deal with than Alastor," Blackwater used the pillar to push himself to his feet, "How did disappointing."
"Alastor doesn't cheat," I argued. The vines were uncomfortably close, thorns grazing my arm from a mere shift in my weight.
Blackwater lifted his hands on either side in a shrug gesture. "What was that you said to Striker? Demons don't play fair?"
My stomach dropped. I stared at him through the vines, guards on watch on the balconies and cheers and cries from the prisoners. 
I was back in a ring. 
I had tried so hard to leave that life behind, to fix my soul, to do better, but it always brought me right back where I didn't want to be.
My body shivered as Alastor looked through my eyes. I saw flashes of the procedure he had to endure while awake. I heard the chants from the prisoners to kill Blackwater, to set them free, to put this unrest to rest. 
Alastor had been right. He had always been right. There was no escaping my nature. You could put a sword on the shelf but when it was needed, it was ready to kill once again. And kill I would if it meant Alastor could live, if Reagan could walk carefree with me beyond the borders, if my haven could be safe. 
I reached out for Blackwater's soul and grabbed it. He froze. He fought me and he fought me hard. His soul was anchored tightly to his body but the harder I tugged the more his strings stretched and frayed. He collapsed on the floor and the vines around me inched away as all eyes went to him. I sprouted my own vines to pry them open and jump out. 
I morphed into my Dragon and clamped my mouth on a hard pillar. Fire scalded my scales and I reared back, head hitting the platform and sending the guards flying. I went into my shadow and flew around the walls. Blackwater spun in an attempt to keep his eyes on me, but I was faster. I used to run circles around my opponents in a small ring but now I was in a large prison with plenty of obstacles to hide along. 
I grabbed his soul again. He lashed out with different magic but it did nothing to my shadowy form. I let out a laugh as I tugged again, earning a cry of panic this time. 
I was starting to understand Alastor's perspective. 
A fleeting thought came to my mind - Blackwater withholding oxygen to the entire prison. A second later I found it took a lot of effort to breathe normally. I tried to dampen his magic, to prevent him from using it, but I couldn't. The way in which he was using magic made it impossible to fight him with normal-styled magic. 
I drew in oxygen from upstairs to keep myself awake as guards and prisoners collapsed. I closed his throat and watched him suffer from his own medicine. He fell to his knees, clawing at nothing and eyes searching for me. I melded into my Demon form and walked up from behind. I casted the entire prison in darkness and let the oxygen come back into the room. 
I grabbed hold of Blackwater's soul, tainted like black blood, and at the same time grabbing his throat. I held the back of his head against my side, claws digging into his skin so it bleed. He was suffocating from the lack of oxygen, physical body bleeding to death, and soul being held tightly in my grasp. 
"You can't beat someone who fought her entire life, and finally found something worth fighting for," I said loudly, voice echoing off the metal walls. His soul loosened as his body began to die. I grabbed hold of his soul with two metaphorical claws and wrenched it the rest of the way, a horrible, sickening, popping sound heard only to my ears, and dragged him far away from the other souls. 
His body fell limp and I let it crash into the floor. I pushed the darkness away to reveal his dead body to the onlooker. The guards stared, unmoving. Their great leader lay in his own pool of blood at the feet of Demon. A Demon who didn't give them a cause for concern, who didn't give anyone a cause for concern. But now I did.
I reached through the magic plains and towered above the shaking souls. I caught two in my fingers and pulled their souls free from their bodies prematurely. Their cries echoed in my ear but for the first time...
It didn't bother me. 
I caught one more before the others came back to the physical word and made a run for the stairs, locking the metal doors shut.
I spun away from Blackwater's body, feeling his soul fighting against my restraints, and walked into the room Alastor was in. The prisoners cried for help but I ignored them, attention solely on my injured soulmate. 
Holding my injured, aching arm, I sat on the edge of the seat. He mumbled my name as I melted the metal cuffs away. As soon as his hands were free, he brought his knuckles up to lazily brush against my cheek. His energy was still trying to crawl back.
"L-Love," he whispered.
"I'm here." I pressed his hand against my cheek and planted a kiss on his wrist. "It's over."
He licked his lips. His voice was void of his radio filter and cracked as he said, "Blackwater. Where–"
"He's dead."
His tired eyebrows moved to make him look upset. He licked his lips before he struggled to ask, "His soul...where?" 
"I have him. He's locked away, I promise."
"Use--" he turned his head away to cough, "use others souls...to keep him under."
"I know." I placed another kiss on his wrist. 
He let out a sigh and his smile turned genuine. He closed his eyes. "That's my girl."
The phrase caused butterflies in my stomach. I kissed him on the nose to steal a taste of his sweet blood. "I'll be right back." 
It almost sounded like a whine as I stood up, his arm falling limp on his lap from the disconnect. I climbed the stairs to the top level where another set of stairs continued upward. I faced the prison and lifted my arms. The locks on all the cells cracked open, the cell doors sliding painfully loud. Red lights flashed and an annoying alarm went off. I broke the earth down on the one staircase behind me and jammed the metal doors shut.
I barked out an order for everyone to gather in the center of the prison. They obeyed, half running and half limping. I waited until each of them had pushed close together and heads tilted back to look at me. I heard men moving the earth in the blocked stairwell.
I felt Alastor look through my eyes again.
Stretching my black claws out, I watched as the ground beneath the group began to lighten up and create a symbol. The purple grew brighter, my energy depleting, as I teleported the entire group just outside the Haven's borders. The guards will ensure nothing happens to them or the haven.
Clanging shook the door behind me. I used a hair of magic to wrench metal free from the stair railing. I leaned against the wall next to the door and waited. I was trying to catch my breath and failing. I was so tired. I just wanted to sleep.
I bent the metal under the door so it curved up and served as a door stop. It did nothing as they began bending the door from its hinges with magic.
This alarm needed to just shut up.
That's when my nose caught a scent. Gas.
I casted the gas through the open hole and up the stairs. I dragged it across every square inch of this huge factory. This place was in ice? No wonder we couldn't find him.
Alcine gripped my shoulders. I melted with her and came to stand beside Alastor. He had clambered off the chair and was laying against the wall, head hanging low and body shaking.
The smell of gas was strong here.
I put my arm around his back and let his head hit my shoulder. I grabbed his opposite leg and drew in energy from my imprisoned souls to run with our shadows.
We came up to the snowy landscape. I drew in a sharp breath as the cold hit me in the face. I fixed my body temperature and let it seep into Alastor's. I and to gather energy and brace myself before every magic action. My mind went with Alcine but my body stayed behind. It took but a spark of fire to engulf the entire factory in flames.
The ground shook. I opened my eyes to the cold snow again. My head hurt as everything shook. I saw the ice crack dangerously close. The spot we were sitting on shifted and it took more effort from the souls to keep myself and Alastor from slipping into the dark abyss. My claws shook from the strain.
The factory was sinking. It was falling into the ice and drowning in the cold water beneath. How deep was this water? The thought terrified me.
I drew on more energy from the souls and painted the ice and snow in my symbol. I wrapped my arms around Alastor's upper body while my tail hooked his legs. My body buzzed and everything felt very light and like we were thinning. Soft, warm grass touched my knees when we manifested.
Alastor withdrew his energy from me and slumped further in my arms. I hadn't even realized he had been giving me some energy. I looked around, realizing I had teleported us to the forest just beyond our borders. I called for help, the wind carrying my cry, as I laid Alastor flat on his back as carefully as I could.
I kept calling, crying, and casting until I felt Husker's presence touch mine. I felt the urgency and the sound of his wings flapping. Relief overwhelmed me. Before I could cry from relief, I fell unconscious beside Alastor.
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Author's Note:
I like this version much much better. Thoughts?
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Taglist:
@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette
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akumicchi · 9 months ago
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𝔗𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔡.
112 prayers
A hopeful message with no destination.
You will never be too heavy for me.
Content: angst, breakdown, hints of depression. Suguru's POV. OC appearance.
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I smelled it before I saw it. I felt it before I heard it; the presence, the humming. I had never entertained the idea of time travel. No one could actually predict a forced turn in the highway of time, even if Back to the Future made it look so comical. Despite that, I found myself basking in that presence, in that humming, and let it drive me off to when I was a child: innocent and safe.
“Mom?”, hoarse. Silence. A knot of guilt tightened itself up inside my chest. ‘Don’t go’.
“Sorry, did I wake you up?”, there weren't the walls of my room around me, no posters, no bookshelves nor pictures. In fact, there was no room at all. Just an open field I didn't know, somewhere I couldn't remember. I wasn't curled against my mother either. It was just Hogo, and it made me more at ease than expected.
Not being alert in a strange place was a punch to my instincts, but I couldn't bring myself to care aside from a simple:
“Where are we?”
“We’re at school. I carried you here, remember?”, oh yes. She and her stupidly strong arms. “You fell asleep though, so you probably don't”. 
I did remember not wanting to come, earlier that day. The air had felt like lead for the entire … month?, weighing heavy on my lungs with each breath. Every layer of clothing was a tight rope made of rubber. It didn't matter how much I tried to fight the dark clouds, they only grew thicker and tighter. It was exhausting. It'd be way easier to just give into the misery. ‘Ah… everyone would be so disappointed to see me like this, choosing the easy way. But I can't carry this and pretend anymore’. So I hid from sewing fake smiles on my face. I just wanted to drown in the pain without witnesses.
Despite that, I let her in.
“C'mon, I want to show you something.”
“I don't really feel like walking anywhere right now”, it had been four days since Tsukumo Yuki talked to me on that very bench, and left me with more thoughts than I could manage. I needed quiet. “Maybe next time”.
Hogo crouched in front of me. Her voice was soft, the one she used when talking to kids. “Please, it won't be long, I promise. We go and then we come back. You will like it”, her eyes were clouded with worry, she looked pretty like that too, “You don't even have to walk if you don't want to”.
“Hmm? How come? You can teleport now, too?”, I cocked a brow, feeling the slight tug of a smile against my will. ‘The things she makes me do’. Her hands closed and opened for a second. She wanted to hug me, and the realization of this loud and clumsy girl being so mindful around me made my chest ache. 
“Well, I'll show you if you agree to come with me”, she sang quietly with a spray of confidence.
I was so eager to get an answer to these haunting questions. Haibara’s response was as simple as his own mind. Tsukumo Yuki’s, on the other hand… It was complicated. Or maybe it wasn't? Maybe I had made my choice? But what if I was wrong? How could I know? What would she say? I wanted her thoughts, a piece of her mind to tell me…anything.
‘But not now’. The scent from her neck lulled my senses quiet. The tree leaves above our heads were kind enough to shield us from the summer afternoon. Hogo’s hand traced my skin, untangling my worries stroke by stroke. My legs were folded on her lap, and the vague memory of being cradled this way made me feel so innocent. Too warm to think. Too soft. Too comfortable.
She had a book propped up against my thigh. It was open roughly around the middle.
“What are you reading?” 
“112 prayers at midnight”, she hummed, eyes not leaving the pages.
“That's an odd number of prayers”.
“Yeah. It's a story about a non-believer trapped in a time loop trying to save his loved ones after losing them to a mistake… He prays every time for the loop to restart.”
“For a non believer he surrendered fast… At least he has a second chance”.
Silence settled between us. A few seconds later she spoke again.
“Hum, I thought about that too, ‘To pray for time to go back, it's so unfair’. But as twisted as it is, I just can't stop reading. Maybe I'll be surprised”.
“Who’s that god that answers at the first call? That's a real surprise. I'd like to meet him”, that was a slip. My throat tightened and by no means I expected how broken I actually sounded.
Her arms held me closer. When she pressed her lips against my forehead, a sob almost broke through every wall I had built.
“Me too”.
Stop being like this. Don't hold me, don't carry me somewhere calm, don't kiss me so softly. Stop making me feel so small! I don't want the sun, I don't want the breeze, I don't want clouds, or words, or songs, or flowers; I don't want any of it!!
“Shh… it's okay, I've got you”.
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b0nten · 1 year ago
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THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE STOPS AT DAWN AND SPINS BACK TO HOLD THE DEVIL
[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷。 being one of five special grades, you learn how to deal with exorcisms, but rarely with loss.
[NOTES] ˚⁀➷。 i was kinda skeptical to post this because i don’t rlly write for jjk but i had this planned out (sloppily) in my notes for so long. i would like to thank @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for inspiring me through their fic if i fell through the floor i’d keep falling to post this (i know we’ve never interacted before so i’m literally so sorry if this comes off as random & makes you uncomfortable) because a) of how much i love that fic and b) of how it reminded me of this and actually motivated me to finish and polish it. also big thanks to my shawtybae ray @httpshujii whom i left traumatized after i asked her to beta-read this fic😭😭
[EXTRAS] ˚⁀➷。 timeline is probably WAAAAAAAAAY off, especially the shibuya incident/culling game. swearing, a lot of words.
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24.12.2017
“you two can’t even tell good and evil apart.”
“doesn’t that guy piss you off, mimiko?”
“nanako, want me to hang him?” the brunette holds her rope tight around the dummy’s neck.
her sister, annoyed by the assistant’s words, hisses. “you guys don’t even know how sorcerers like us are treated in the shitty countryside that doesn’t show up on maps. you do all the good and evil you want. but for us, if geto-sama says so, then black is white and white is black. we believe in the world he sees; and we will hang everybody who gets in the way!” she threatens and they both take their combat positions, ready to strike when, suddenly, footsteps echo through the empty alleyway.
“cut it out, you three.” wind blows though silky hair and a perfume they all recognize takes over the air as all of their faces drop. “don’t bother, ijichi, they’re just as stubborn as their dad.” a smile glides across your lips, but disappears just a few moments later. “ew, my pants are stained with curse juice.”
“mom?” “y/n-san?” they gasp at the same time, and ijichi’s head turns back so fast you could swear you heard his neck snap.
“ ‘mom’ ? y/n-san, what’s going on?” he asks, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
“that’s a long story i’ll tell you only if you promise not to snitch to the higher-ups.” you grin at him, patting him on his shoulder as you pass by. “don’t worry, i’m not switching sides.” you reassure, and hear him sigh in relief.
with the speed of light, the twins rush towards you, embracing you in a warm hug.
“miko, please don’t hang my friend, yeah? and you, young lady, what did we talk about, try to be a little less hostile!” you scold, ruffling their hair a little rougher than usual. then, a crash startles all four of you.
“miguel? what the hell are you doing!” the light-brunette shouts, rolling her eyes once the man’s ironic response reacher her ears.
“ugh, ” you can only do the same, brows furrowing when another familiar face pops up, “satoru, pipe down! and pleaaaaase try to not kill him!” you shout to grab gojo’s attention, dragging out the plead.
“when you ask me so nicely, i guess i can make an exception for you, bestie boo!” he shrugs, winking with his only uncovered eye.
ignoring the antics that you’re so used to, your attention falls back on the girls.
“you two, ” you start, clapping your hands closed and dragging your right hand as to conjure a katana. then, you scrape a circle with it in the cobblestone, “i’ll teleport you somewhere safe, i don’t like where this is going, and i gotta clean up some of the curses suguru let loose around here. be careful, i love you.” you wave as a big fire sphere rushes up from the ground, building a barrier between you. before the girls can say anything else, they disappear completely. “ijichi, text me the date and time and i’ll be there. gotta get to kusakabe as soon as i can or he may need to get his diaper changed.”
you laugh, dissipating into a puddle of black, while your underclassman still can’t believe what he’s witnessed.
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15.10.2008
you know that what you’re about to do is rash and irrational, and possibly clearly also considered treachery in the jujutsu world. the fact that nobody had already caught wind of what you were up to was and still is in itself a miracle, but you could narrow it down to them thinking you were still grieving; and truth be told, you still kind of were, trying to do it the best you could. healing fresh wounds is never easy and recovering from a break-up that didn’t directly happen is sometimes like trying to sew shut a deep wound with cotton thread.
and that’s what kept you going in the most excruciating year of your life: your wounds deserve to close properly, and it is within your right to be able to run your fingers across your skin, without fearing they’ll plunge deep into your chest and dreading to take them out knowing they’ll be covered in blood and the smell of a broken heart.
so you step, determined and furious to get your cause across. you bang your fists on the big door, and a chubby man of middle age greets you at the entrance.
“what’s your name? do you have an appointment?” he questions, and you answer with the same western bullshit name you gave when you rang them up to book said ‘appointment’. he turns a few pages in his clipboard and finally his face lights up.
“yes, please, come in!” his arm is stretched out in a gentlemanly manner, signaling for you to enter. and you do, something bubbling in the pit of your stomach. excitement? no, that’s almost impossible. hate? hurt? the wish for vengeance you have so obsessively dreamed about? you’re not sure about any of those. when you step into the room, though, you feel nervous. like you’re walking on the thin glass shards of your broken youth — the one that got spat and shat on by the same world that made geto spiral into his madness — stolen mercilessly by the greediness of the higher-ups.
“geto-sama will come in shortly!” he explains, and you gather all your composure to ensure you won’t vomit right then and there.
“he calls himself geto-sama now?” you wonder, and although you haven’t said it out loud, the title still leaves a bitter feeling on your tongue. you imagine maybe that’s what curses taste like to suguru.
“welcome, miss— oh.“ full of confidence he struts from behind two curtains, and when he sees you, his gaze softens and you swear you can catch a glimpse of the boy you lost an autumn ago. “it’s so nice to see you, y/n!” he calls out and picks up his pace, almost rushing to you. “i’m so glad it’s not one of those monkeys! sometimes i get nauseous from seeing them all the time!” he face-palms, then beams, and takes your hands in his, leaving a kiss on your temple, lastly pulling you close to him like he always did, even before he vanished.
you think you’re going to be sick again, watching him act all nonchalant and normal, as if nothing has happened. “how dare he?” you think, feeling the anger pierce your stomach walls, and settling in your throat. how can he act like this? like you’re still high-school sweethearts, like he’s just come back from a mission and you’re standing at the school gates, ready to welcome him back. your brain almost freezes, heart urging you to stay like that, but mind screaming at you to pull away from him.
so, against your heart’s wishes, you tear away from him. “monkeys? that’s what you call them now, suguru?” you click your tongue in annoyance, a habit he knows you have whenever you’re about to get petty. “what happened to civilians, non-sorcerers, humans, people?” you ask, blank face staring daggers into his soul.
“my love, they’re all just monkeys.” your once-lover says with the same nonchalance, “don’t bother being all so formal with them. they can’t even use jujutsu, like we do, so—“ before he can say anything else, you cut him off, something similar to a mix of anger and sadness in your voice.
“don’t call me that, suguru.” your voice cracks a little, eyebrows furrow and your heartbeat picks up its pace, and you think maybe your legs are going to give out on you any minute now. “i’m not here to play happy family reuinted.” you almost choke on your words. “i—”
“geto-sama!!! geto-sama!!!” a panicked, feminine voice comes from behind the curtains, and soon enough, two young girls emerge from them. one has light brown hair, the other’s is a little darker than shoko’s. they can’t be older than 6, 5 if you dare to overthink. the former is dragging her sister by her hand, and the latter is holding a plushy tight against her chest, stumbling here and there.
“what’s wrong, you two?” he asks gently, crouching down to their level. you remember how he used to speak to you the same whenever you came back from a mission sad or displeased and your heart drops at how easy it is to break down your walls and have memories growing like ice flowers in the archives you vouched to burn off your mind.
“mimiko—“ her gaze averts to you and ricochets into the ground, small figure balancing from foot to foot as she apologizes, “oh, i’m sorry for interrupting.”
when you look at them, you can’t help but smile. they look so… sweet. so innocent. what are they doing here? “that’s alright, you don’t have to pardon yourself, it seemed urgent.” with a motherly sympathy you didn’t know you held within you, you explain. with the corner of your eye, you see a smile bloom on geto’s face.
“ohmygod!” the same one calls out to her sister in a not-so-subtle whisper. “that’s the lady whose picture geto-sama has! the one he told us about!”
“nanako… you can’t say that when she’s in front of us… it’s rude.” mimiko half-heartedly scolds her sister.
you can’t help the blush from creeping up your cheeks or the laugh from escaping your lips.
“y/n, these are nanako and mimiko.” suguru explains and nudges them forward. “girls, this is y/n, but you already knew.” he smiles again, abstaining himself from laughing at his own semi-bad joke. “they’re…” he continues. “they’re my epiphany, the reason i left the useless jujutsu world and started to make my own.”
you try to ignore the last part of his introduction and his sickeningly smug grin, and you crouch down too, in order to observe them from closer proximity. “nice to meet you both.” you say, warmly, and touch the floor with your hand. a puddle of black forms around it and you awkwardly rummage through the void. soon enough, you pull out two candy-bars.
“i hope you two like macadamia nuts and chocolate. unfortunately it’s all i have right now.” you apologize with a sheepish smile, handing them the sweets. they look at geto to seek approval, and when he nods enthusiastically, they accept your gift with lots of giggles and bright grins.
suguru’s heart skips a beat before it melts. he really is touched you’re showing his daughters so much kindness, but he’s even happier he sees the same candy-bars you ate in high school. he feel nostalgic, even though he knows it’s only been a year. but just like in his case, he thought a year might have been significant change for you too.
the tender moment is interrupted by knocking on the door. “geto-sama, i’m terribly sorry to disturb, but your next appointment is here.” an assistant calls out, and geto is visibly annoyed.
“tell them to wait for a little bit. we’re still not ready to wrap up.” he commands, outside going silent instantly. “i am so sorry to cut this short, y/n.” he says, admitting regret, “you are welcome to drop by any time you want. and you don’t have to use a fake name.” he’s hopeful now, he’s even more confident, and he steps closer to you.
but as if you two are magnets of the same polarity, your body forces you to take a step back. his gaze saddens and something like despair flashes briefly across his face. it almost reads like “please come by again. please.” almost like a desperate plead.
“i’ll see.” is the only response you can give before turning around and heading to the door. before you open it, you look back at the three of them. “nanako, mimiko, it was nice to meet you.” you say, softness for the two canceling out whatever uncomfortable feelings you had before.
“you too, y/n-sama! please come by again!” they both say back, waving as you leave the room. a peculiar tickle renders your body almost perplexed when you hear the honorific.
you navigate through the temple like you’re trying to find the exit of a maze, but when you’re outside, you take a deep breath of fresh air. your hand travels up to wipe the shells of the tears forming in your eyes and you swear you can smell the blood that’s gushing from your still unclosed wounds, sewn again with cotton thread.
“they’re my epiphany.”
they’re his epiphany.
you replay the scene in your head, and feel desperate the more you chant the mantra, as if your ego has not only been broken, but sanity stripped away from you. then, your thoughts are broken by your phone ringing. flipping up the cover, you try to play everything off as normal.
“shoko?” you say, “is everything alright?”
“i should be the one asking you that.” her tone is sharp, “is everything alright with you, y/n?” it softens, and like a dam about to break lose, you sniffle and answer out.
“no.” it’s clear, it’s there, you said it. you don’t have to pretend.
“come over. i miss having my girl around.” she says, and you giggle.
“you’re lucky i’m in the area. i’ll be there in fifteen, girlfriend. and stop talking to me like im one of your hoes.”
she just laughs manically before ending the call. you smile, and go.
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10.04.2009
you don’t know for sure if whatever you feel against nanako and mimiko is compassion or pity. or maybe hatred, sometimes disguised as jealousy. but ever since geto said that, there is this little voice in the back of your head that keeps playing the same sentence, like your mind’s a broken record.
“he chose them over you.”
“he chose them over you.”
“he chose them over you.”
“he chose them over you.”
“he chose them over you.”
you’re not sure how to feel. they’re kids. they’re young, they didn’t coax him into starting this. maybe they were just caught in the crossfire, you like to guess. maybe they were the last straw.
or maybe, you were simply not good enough, which, in all honesty, was hard to accept. being a special-grade sorcerer that came from nothing isn’t easy. someone’s always on your back, refusing to get off; from the higher-ups to one’s parents. it’s hard to live up to pre-made expectations, and carry burdens on an already-cracked spine, but you’ve always been strong — so strong even gojo pissed his pants sometimes — so what happened? what made him resort to this?
finally, after looking through the things he left behind in his room, you came to understand geto didn’t leave because he wanted to, he left because that was what it came to. and slowly, you accepted that the twins really were nothing more than two girls caught in a crossfire, that geto somehow saved. his last mission, it must’ve been excruciating, he must’ve seen hell in its true form (again) or death itself in front of him (for the third time) when he went to that village and slaughtered it mercilessly.
that was actually the case, as you come to learn. after six months you build up the courage to visit again, this time unannounced, this time without a purpose. you were sure it’d be left unserved anyway, like the last one. so, when suguru welcomes you into the room once more, you make small talk. and ask about his life, sometimes trying not to gag when he makes disgusting remarks about “monkeys”.
and voluntarily, he tells you the girls’ story after they fall asleep on your lap, dead exhausted thanks to the running around they did. you learn their past, and see something ignite in suguru that makes you think. if you had been there, would you have done the same? would you have stopped him, or joined him? he did nothing wrong, he killed abusers. he killed people that beat two defenseless children, something he shouldn’t have been persecuted for, you thought. this whole monkey thing, tough, something else, another story. but maybe, just maybe had somebody heard him out, he wouldn’t be staying across from you dressed in robes but instead you would’ve been sitting in an apartment you bought with all the money you saved up, all four of you cradled next to the other watching tv with the volume off as to not wake up the sleeping girls. and maybe, just maybe, satoru would have found the fushiguro-zen’in boy and his sister that he’s so serious on finding and they’d come over and play together, while you, shoko and sometimes utahime and mei gossip on the couch and suguru, satoru, nanami and ijichi hang out in the kitchen.
if it weren’t for your teenage heart and forgiving soul, you wouldn’t have begged geto to consider your idea.
“i can try and negotiate a deal for you.” you’re serious, and not about to give up, no matter what he says. “i’ve been taking extra missions, suguru. they like me, they started to value my opinion in the last two years.” you say, and your eyes gloss over when you look at him.
“y/n…” he sighs. “this is my choice. i’m content living like this.”
you break a little.
“don’t say that suguru. it’s not too late, you know? i can vouch for you, i can make sure nanako and mimiko are safe, if that’s what you’re actually concerned about. i will take extra shifts, i will fight for you.” you start to crack and chip off at the edges. “in the end, you did nothing wrong killing those villagers, but that’s something they’re just gonna look away from because you killed non-sorcerers. hateful, filthy, non-sorcerers that deserved their fate.” you say, gritting and swearing behind teeth, jaw clenched and breathing like your lungs are glued together.
suguru always liked your sense of justice. it was always strong, defined, your moral compass was as clear as the sky on the first day you were transferred to jujutsu high. it was refreshing to see someone like you, that fought, no matter what; that gave herself up for the cause she wanted to prove. you would’ve killed yourself if it meant judgement had been served correctly, and even if it meant losing yourself on the way, you loved standing up for what was right. you’d tear at yourself so everybody could be happy. and he could see it in your eyes, the way they shine with the beauty of a thousand galaxies and the passion of a hundred suns, radiating hope, even after all that you’ve been through. you’re hope, you’re love, you’re light, ready to sacrifice herself just so others could grasp that spark even for a little while. ah, as long as…, like you said in your heydays, cigarette between teeth as geto lit it for you, shoko boo’d in the background and satoru annoyed nanami but entranced haibara, holding the world in your hands, ready to blast another wall, to save another soul, to make another life-source. you were temperance and the tower all in one, the embodiment of balanced destruction, the origin of damaged harmony. you ate, chewed and spit yourself out so everyone could see that you were raw — you were like them — you were all the same, kids with power and jobs too big for ages that didn’t even bloom correctly yet.
but this time, he can’t let you do that. you can’t be his divine intervention anymore, you can’t make a catastrophe of your life just to build his anew. he had chosen his way the day he committed mass murder, roots of his goal planted deep inside his hatred for non-sorcerers, and it was far too late to go back, no matter what you said or could have said or say, his life is now with his cult. and he looks at you, with his girls cradled in your lap and wonders of the life you could have had, had amanai’s death not taken such a toll on him. he never told you, but he wanted you to meet her. she would’ve absolutely adored you, no doubt, and vice-versa.
sometimes he wakes up in the morning and you’re not next to him and then he imagines it too: a little house in meguro, and he’d wake up at the crack of dawn and look at you sleeping peacefully beside him, then he’d get up and cook breakfast. he envisions evening walks in spring, when the cherry blossoms bloom, and nanako and mimiko running wildly along the river banks, and you shouting after them to be careful. his heart swells with what if’s and maybe’s but he remembers that in his world, he can achieve that. and he doesn’t have to worry about any of you three being in danger either.
you feel the need to change the topic. you feel the regret floating around in the air — you feel the wound you tried to sew shut so many times miserably — and it reeks of fresh blood and sweet tea and plum blossoms and the winter he confessed his feelings.
“let me help you get them to bed.” you smile, and he reciprocates. he takes nanako from your lap softly as not to disturb her sleep, and guides you to their room.
you find yourself kissing their foreheads as if they’re your daughters, as if you hadn’t met them only two times in your life, and suguru finds himself too close to you. you think he’s too close to you too, but right now, in this shit you’ve dragged yourself into, you don’t care at all anymore.
so you kiss him, you lift yourself up on your toes enough for him to already know what you’re doing and to bend down. electricity sparks and you see yourself in the middle of snowy shibuya crossing yet again, people going on about their day while you pour your hearts out to the other silently, carnally, with chapped lips falling against each other, devouring the curse of love with gluttony, and freezing hands tangled in the intimacy of two sixteen year olds dumb enough to think they’re able to write their own destiny.
that’s why you continue to visit. in the rest of 2009, 2010, 2011, and so on. between what you lost that you never even had, and the brief moment of serenity of feeling like a family with geto and the girls, you finally feel like you have something to live for.
it goes without saying that it still frightened you — if anyone were to find out where you were going, who you were going to — they all may have been put in danger. but the moment the big, wooden door to the temple opens and two smiley faces jump into your arms while the boyfriend you never had the guts to break up with greets you sweetly, all the worry dissipates. you were not there “to play happy family reunited”, you had found a family. and as twisted life had layed itself out for geto, maybe yours wasn’t that far from it either.
so, once a month you come, with gifts, with candy, with love and worry and whatnot. you’re there to see the twins grow up, sometimes you help suguru cut their hair, to navigate through all the stages of girlhood you experienced too — well, almost all, since it’s kind of hard to give them really everything when their dad is a wanted mass murderer in a world over half of the population doesn’t even know exists. but you’re there, and you’re happy when you’re with them. they’re your sun.
and it goes like that for years, you come, you laugh, and you leave. sometimes before you leave, geto kisses you chastely, and sometimes more, which means you stay the night, and he partially sees his dream come true the next morining; and he loves it, he can’t wait to get it done, but he feels guilty. guilty for the plan he’s come up with and guilty knowing you’re gonna be on the opposite side, no matter what.
when the girls turn eight, they start calling you ‘mom’, to your and geto’s surprise. but they like it, and honestly, so do you and so does their dad. it’s random, but it feels natural, it feels warm. suguru’s heart sinks, and he thinks he can keep his plan hidden and pushes it back a few more years, until he can’t anymore. so, on the twins’ eleventh birthday, a beautiful day of 2013, it’s the last time you come. you try to talk him out of it, but no matter how many pleads and promises and compromises, his decision is still the one he told you. that day, when you leave and look back with a fake smile at the kids waving at you from the door, the wind feels sharper on your face and the air is definitely colder than what it was supposed to ever be. you go to the bar and drown out your sorrows, glass after glass after glass after glass after glass until you’re numb. and even in the numbness, there’s still an aching pain, like a scorching dagger has been stabbed through your heart, burning the skin and muscle and everything in between on its way to bring you down. you wonder if that’s what curses feel when they’re exorcised.
so, while nanako and mimiko ask about you and why their mom isn’t coming anymore, you bury yoursef in work. you kill, you start to teach, you do paperwork. satoru comes over sometimes and when you look at him, you can only cry. shoko comes over more than sometimes, and when you look at her you can also only cry. they both hug you and sometimes cry with you too: a pity party. nanami writes to you a lot, and when you read his messages you also cry. sometimes you go to visit him, and he looks at you with a disgusting look. he knows you haven’t broken records these past few months because of your love for jujutsu, but because of the hate you bear for it. his heart shatters seeing his senior like this. so, he pours you tea and gets you the cookies you always loved, stashed next to a framed picture of you three — you, him and haibara.
kento always thought you were like glue. you kept everyone together. and although him and yu were only your juniors, you made them feel like they were your brothers. you brought together the jujutsu world so closely, you made it seem like it could work, until nobody was there to help you, even though you tried so hard. it was like a mirage, but so closely and delicately conjured one could swear it was real — maybe that was your true domain expansion — and you would’ve killed yourself if that meant it’d be kept intact, and you kind of did, because at the price of your own well-being, you took care of the others. you worked overtime so gojo had less missions to go on, helped nanami get out of jujutsu and welcomed him right back with open arms and broken heart that still needed mending desperately, and helped shoko with med school until she decided she’d just cheat herself into getting her eligibility.
and you’re a wreck, so you browse pictures in your phone of you, suguru and the girls, you frame them but keep them away from the world’s eyes, god knows who may find them and put you on death-row too. you look at them and feel like you’re mourning geto a second time around, but this time you’re also mourning.. your kids. the kids who called you mom, who sometimes called you up at night when they had some “girl problems” they couldn’t tell suguru right off the bat, the girls that asked you to sew their ripped clothes, and who watched you and geto do that side by side.
you didn’t understand how suguru came to that conclusion, to push you away for good. you never tried to erase his ideology from the girls’ minds, you simply mothered them. you loved them, trained them, you loved him, so what was up with him?
geto feels miserable too. he lost you once, and now he’s lost you twice. he’s rougher with his monkeys, he feels like he’s mourning once again too. and when he looks at nanako and mimiko he cannot stop his heart from ripping apart. they look at pictures of you. every single day, there’s not one that passes when he doesn’t want to call you and tell you to come back. to be the glue, to love him and his daughters, to make them laugh and jump and smile and make him feel warm and fuzzy inside all again. for the first time in his life, he has doubts about his dream world, because when he looks at the once so cheerful duo, sad while holding your picture, and when he remembers the tears in your eyes and how you wiped them away quickly when they came to hug you goodbye, he wants to kill himself like you always did for your cause. he wants to make the devil chew him and spit him out for forgetting you are just like him too — flesh, bones, and misery.
so, for once in his new life, geto does something he never thought he would do — he compromises. exactly 364 days after he forbids you from coming by again, he tells the twins they can go out in the world and enjoy their life. maybe they’ll go looking after you, he thinks, he hopes, and he sees their faces light up and they see his do the same. “but don’t talk to monkeys when it’s not necessary!” he orders, no, he asks. he can’t order his children around.
and mimiko and nanako go out in the world, alone, for the first time, the following day. geto asks them to buy any cake they want, to celebrate for when they come back. so they head to the bakery that breached the barriers of what they knew, once every thirty days: they mostly knew the universe geto had created for them, and once a month came clashing down an asteroid, with flowers, sweets and everything the cult didn’t really have, their mother.
so, after almost getting lost thrice on the metro, when they enter the minimalist store they searched on google maps because they kept a cardboard box of sweets you once brought over, and see your tired figure, tears in your eyes as you mouth and explain the kanji of their name to the lady with the piping bag in her hand, their eyes swell and they can only weakly sob “mom..?”, unsure if it’s actually you or a mirage.
when your head snaps in the direction of the door and you see the two kids you missed so badly in a year, you stare at them blankly. you’re afraid to get close to them, thinking maybe they’re just a shadow created by the months of exhaustion, but when mimiko asks if you remember them, you break down crying, embracing them while they weep on your shoulder too. “how could i not?” you stifle between sniffles and feel them hug you even tighter. it’s almost like movie scene, and even the cashier is on the verge of tears.
when you pull away, you’re all red-eyed and stuffy-nosed, hair a mess and hearts clammy. “let me pay for the cake first, and we can go to my place, yes?” you say and they both nod like they did when you weren’t quite as closely acquainted yet.
“we also have to buy a cake..” nanako says, “could you help us?”
you don’t hesitate and pull them to the refrigerator to chose. “what was the one you always bought?” mimiko asks, heart thumping in her chest. “well, it’s the one i have over there, but they’re actually order-only.” you say, eyeing the cake, sad. the twins bite their lips and scan whatever’s left in the display window.
“excuse me,” the lady jumps in, trying to regain composure too “we have cupcakes with that same filling, if it’s any better!” she says, “and they’re 20 percent off if you buy more than 10! and 50 for more than twenty!”
“then we’d like 24 of them, please.” you say, twins’ faces dropping.
“24? isn’t that too much?” nanako chokes out, and her sister giggles a bit at her expression.
“not at all, no, no!” you reassure, patting their heads. “and don’t even dare to pay me back.” you half-heartedly threaten when the other one reaches into her pocket to take out her wallet. “put it back, miko.”
and so, you get to patch up your heart a little bit. you buy them candles, and they blow them on the cupcakes, and take pictures and laugh about whatever.
and it was like this a lot, because whenever they came over to yours they begged you to tell them about your teenage years and show them everything you did. and, because you couldn’t bring yourself to throw away the years of beauty you had documented on film and paper, you showed them everything, accompanied by cups of tea from porcelain haibara bought you from missions he went on, and cakes and biscuits and all the snacks they asked for (thank god you always kept some stashed for satoru).
pictures of you, satoru, suguru, shoko, nanami, haibara, mei and utahime. they were all there — immortal in the plastic of the polaroids and untouchable in the albums — and no one could steal away those precious moments. you showed them pictures of every kind, going on missions and late night hang-outs in your dorms, they gasped at the sight of geto smoking and laughed at the hairstyles you did on him. in the span of weeks and months of two years, you showed them the person you had fallen in love with, and the friends that welcomed you with open arms in tokyo.
of course they were especially keen on pictures of you and geto, fangirling over the “couple pictures”, the ones shoko took of you both when you weren’t watching and later on gave to you. you showed them satoru’s first hangover, and how their dad held his hair back as he was vomiting his hollow purple into the toilet, and the selfie you and shoko took, a little less hungover, leaning against the stalls.
you showed them videos of you all rehearsing your techniques and geto protecting nanami from gojo’s annoying teenage ass.
you took them to disneyland and rode with them on all the rollercoasters they wanted, and took so many photos you bought nanako a picture-only phone. each of you hung them up in your homes, and sometimes suguru stumbled upon the girls’ pictures when he went into their room, and cried over your portrait upon seeing you in a winnie the pooh headband almost identical to the one he wore when he first took you there in high school.
and although, physically, it weren’t four of you gathered around the table anymore, you still laughed together and you felt free, until 2017 came along.
it was maybe early november when you got the call from satoru, away on business in sapporo. it sounded urgent, and first and foremost, he sounded scared. not frightened, but rather desperate, like he didn’t know what to do. therefore, on your first day back in tokyo, you went to see him.
“just rip the bandaid off, satoru.” you say, gently.
“geto has declared war on us.”
you’re left dumbfounded, tea cup shaking in your hand. you can only blink, awaiting gojo to say more. to give you more information.
“he came by the day i called you. said he’d unleash a thousand curses in kyoto and shinjuku on christmas eve. wanted yuta to join him and belittled maki.”
you put down your cup, head resting in your palms. it feels like a bad dream. you knew what to expect of him, that sooner or later he’d act on his crazy dreams of a non-sorcerer free world, but hoped it would be a lot later than this.
“was he alone?” you ask, gojo’s face making a funny look.
“no, two girls that wanted to eat crepes on takeshita and a shirtless guy.” he explains, “why do you ask?”
this time, you lie to him. you can’t let him know you’ve committed treachery for almost a decade now. “then we should also expect some counter-attack from them, not just some curses running loose.” you explain, and gojo nods approvingly.
“you’re right. we should be careful then, especially with the managers.” he says, and you only bob your head a ‘yes’. “y/n” his voice softens, and round shades peel from his face, “don’t do this to yourself.” he crouches down next to you, hand caressing your shoulder. when he feels your muscles tense, he welcomes you with open arms and you cry on his shoulder for a good ten minutes. when he feels you’ve calmed down, he unlocks his phone and dials a number. it doesn’t ring for long, and he speaks, “hey, emo girl. come over. we’re having a reunion.” he laughs, “y/n’s sad, so you do the maths on how manny bottles you bring.” he says, regretting instantly. “wait, don’t you think five is too much, shoko? hello? shoko? agh, fuck you, girl.” you laugh, and so does he, stroking your back once more. “everything’s gonna be okay, babygirl.”
“dont you ever call me that again.”
the next day, you wake up with your phone blowing up, next to shoko, in gojo’s bed. “answer the fucking phone already.” she groans, and you do, but not before kicking her side.
“yes?” without even looking at the caller id you speak, head spinning from all the alcohol (two bottles and a half, each) and voice hoarse from the packs of cigarettes each one of you smoked the previous night. (three, each.) there goes shoko’s quitting.
“mom? you’re not answering the door, are you okay?” nanako speaks from the other side and you instantly jump out of bed, startling your friend.
“i’ll be there in… fifteen. please wait.” you say and hang up after hearing a positive answer.
you dart from the apartment, hugging gojo on your way out, explaining something came up.
you drive through the city with the speed of light, getting home not just in time, but seven minutes early, and the twins hug you when you see them. when they sit you down on the couch to tell you something, your heart sinks, because you can already feel what it is.
“geto-sama declared war on the college last week.” the fawn haired admits, and the other just looks down at the ground.
“i know.” is all you say, trying to hold back tears.
“we’re really sorry. and if you don’t want to see us again, it’s alright, we, we get it.“ mimiko says, words pulled out of her mouth with prongs, almost unable to finish her sentence.
“don’t you ever think something like that.” you snap, dam breaking behind your eyes. “i saw you all this time despite not agreeing with suguru’s ideology, but you’re still my kids too, you know? i have also done some parenting these last ten years.”
it’s bittersweet, and they feel it too, and they cry too, because from being rescued by suguru to seeing the stranger lady walk into their temple every month and showing them the kindness only geto ever did, you became their mother. you stuck by them, always looking over your shoulder whenever you visited them and taking extra precautions whenever they visited you. you were their asteroid, you were their world, and although geto hurt you, not once, but twice, you still loved him and them like you were there when he saved them.
and they always saw the broken youth and undreamt dreams that hid behind your eyes, so motherly, so tender and reassuring albeit living no better than a fugitive. their lives were less stressful than yours, because you sacrificed yourself to come see them. maybe out of fear of losing geto yet again, or denial, but whatever you may have feared, you always put your little beautifully broken and beloved family above all else, bravely so.
“just promise me you’ll both be careful.” is all you say before they collapse in your arms. and you stand there, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes and the blood of the wound you thought closed up.
“we will, no matter what.”
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24.12.2017
you walk into jujutsu high and can’t believe your eyes. you’re tired from killing curses and giving kusakabe a pep-talk every ten minutes, but you don’t think this is all in your mind: smashed cobblestone, holes in the ground. and blood, lots of blood.
you run into the infirmary, shoko’s door flying open as she lets out a half-scream.
“what’s your problem?” she asks, partly annoyed.
“i’m sorry for worrying about my students after i babysat a grown man all day.” you reply, and she laughs, “atsuya again, huh? too bad he’s actually talented, that crybaby persona gets too much somtimes. they’re all safe, yuta used rct on them, but gojo wants to talk to you.” she says.
“is he in the common lobby?” you ask, and she nods approvingly.
when you enter the room, you feel a chill creep up your spine. satoru is still, way too still.
“y/n.”
“satoru.”
he gulps down saliva before asking you the question. “did suguru have daughters?” he says, and you answer, mindless.
“yeah, he has tw—“ then it dawns on you. “satoru?” he sees it too. in the small crack of your voice, some glass shards hitting the linoleum. “satoru, don’t tell me,” you’re on the verge of tears. your throat is dry, stomach doing flips. “oh my god.” you gasp, legs turning into sand, and he rushes to catch you.
“he told me to take care of the three of you, and i didn’t understand and i thought about the crepe girls and then you of course and.. you and.. i… i’m sorry, y/n. i didn’t want it to end like this.” he spits out word after word, boulder rolling off his shoulder, letting himself cry in your embrace.
“no one did, satoru. i’m never gonna blame you for his death, yeah?” your eyes start to water too. he’s still the boy that lost his best friend, you’re still the girl that lost her boyfriend, shoko is still the one that lost a best friend, and you’re all three still teenagers, waiting for someone to guide you through the loss.
you stand like that for a while, until you both calm down.
“thank you.” gojo satoru, the strongest, smiles through tears he’d only ever shown a handful of people.
“thank you, boywonder.” you smile through tears you’d only ever shown a handful of people.
“i have to talk to yaga.” he runs a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily before hugging you goodbye.
you sit down in your chair and watch the sun set. through the window, maki, yuta, panda and inumaki wave at you. you reciprocate, thankful they’re still alive, when all of a sudden your phone rings.
“mom?” the moment you answer, mimiko’s voice cracks on the other end. she usually isn’t one to call, so you’re guessing you know what this is about.
“i’m coming.” you say between your own small shallow breaths, waving the students goodbye through the window once again. you make another quick phone call before leaving campus.
“yes?”
“megumi, gojo’s had a rough day and i can’t spend time with him tonight. shoko also has to do overtime at the morgue. can you keep him company for a bit?”
he sighs. “yeah, i will.”
“thank you.”
“sensei… take care. you’re a great sorcerer…and a great person. just felt like you needed to hear that.”
“thank you, megumi. you too, kiddo.”
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31.10.2018
“you know this was reckless, yeah?”
“we’re sorry for keeping you in the dark so long. it’s just — we knew you would’ve stopped us if we told you kenjaku took over geto-sama’s body, and we really want him to have a proper burial.” the brunette clutches her phone to her chest, eyes fixed on the ground.
“we didn’t mean to keep you in the dark so long, but you were already grieving geto-sama for the second time. we didn’t think you’d find out like you did.” mimiko apologizes too, and even though they stand in front of you, apologizing for the biggest mistake they have ever made, you can’t scold them. not when they thought about you, about easing your pain.
“you guys did a stupid thing, that’s all i’m gonna say.” the pause and sigh you take between sentences make them want to burry themselves into the ground, “but i’m not mad, because you did it with good intent.” your voice softens and their gazes come up, meeting your face. “i’m gonna help you, but please wait until i come back.”
their faces lighten as you stroke their hair, stopping when your phone rings.
“ijichi? itadori? alone? shibuya? what’s he doing there? he’s supposed to be in harajuku station with mei ” they read between the words, knowing exactly who this itadori is, “i can’t, i really have enough curses to fight, the meiji-jingu area by itself is packed.” you apologize with gritted teeth and exhausted breath, “i’ll enter the curtain when i’m done, and send you guys some back-up,yeah?”
you look at the twins again, wanting to instinctively crouch down to their level, but they’ve gotten too tall for that. “please, don’t go out. and if you do, be careful, and stay safe. don’t do anything rash.” you say, embracing them both. “i love you two so much.” you hold onto them a bit longer than usual, kissing their cheeks before unlocking the door.
“we love you too.” they say in unison, and smile.
“be careful, yeah? lock the door after i teleport.”
“always.” is the last thing you hear before disappearing.
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9.11.2018
“come on, pick up, pick up, pick up…”
you bite your nails in frustration. it’s been a week since the culling game has started, a week since gojo got sealed, since nanami died. since maki got burned. and the biggest act of jujutsu terrorism happened in less than 24 hours under your very noses. a lethal battle royal, where everyone has to kill each other.
it’s been a full week since neither of the twins have contacted you. they don’t respond to their texts either. for mimiko it was normal, she didn’t really use her phone as much as her sister, but when nanako, whose cursed technique is all about using her phone, doesn’t have it, then that’s when you start to worry.
“sensei…” megumi walks up next to you, visibly worried, “who are you looking for? maybe we can help?”
you’ve known megumi ever since gojo found him, and met tsumiki a few times too. you helped gojo train him, something that turned out useful because of your somehow similar cursed techniques: his ten shadows and your use of void space were easy to adapt to the other. you had grown close, especially because of your shared annoyance for his guardian. yet, he never once met your daughters. you would’ve loved to introduce them to each other, mimiko would have been thrilled to have another just as quiet friend of her age and nanako would have loved to bother the two of them. still, you didn’t. you couldn’t, because that would mean explaining to gojo why you have two kids with you and (while still visiting the temple) possibly needing to convince suguru to let you take them out, and even a possible slip-up would’ve meant all hell breaking loose. though sometimes you thought maybe not, since it wasn’t non-sorcerers you were wanting to befriend them with, but it was still too risky. higher-ups had eyes everywhere, and you didn’t want to risk being labeled as foe.
“y/n-sensei, fushiguro’s right!” yuuji chimes in, making you laugh a little bit, “tell us, maybe we’ve seen the person!”
“and once we’re done speaking with master tengen, we can help you search for them.”
“you too, yuki?” you sigh, still spamming the call button.
“that’s tsukumo-senpai to you!” she jokes.
“ugh, someone, take this thing away already! it keeps buzzing way too much!” a hole opens on itadori’s hand, sukuna groaning some curse words and spitting a cell phone out, full of annoyance and disgust.
your heart drops and your mind blurs as you look at it. green, silicone, bunny ears.
“sensei?” yuuta now directs his attention to you too. “sensei, what’s wrong?” he seems worried, and so do the rest of them.
“what’s that?” choso points to the green rectangle on the ground, crouching and flipping it around. they all look at the screen, which reads “mom”.
“that’s a cellphone, choso!” yuki explains.
“that’s — that’s nanako’s cellphone.” you stammer, collapsing to your knees. “yuuji, when— how? this is bad, bad, bad, bad..” you think out loud, voice shakier with every word as you flip the phone from one side to the other. “she-she can’t use her technique without her phone, oh my god. but she’s definitely with mimiko, so maybe they can transfer points to each other, and her combat skills aren’t bad at all, maybe.. ”
“y/n-sensei, i don’t know how that got there.” itadori speaks, almost ashamed.
“i do!” another orifice opens on his hand, grinning. “i killed them.”
everybody’s in shock, you gasp, phone falling on the floor as both your hands cover your mouth.
“the dark haired’s head i blew off, the other’s i sliced.” the curse continues.
“itadori, please make that thing shut up.” maki orders harshly, expression softening when her gaze falls back on you.
“sukuna, this is not the time for jokes.” itadori intervenes.
“i’m not joking. they tried to boss me around, telling me they’ll give me another finger if i kill kenjaku. some brats, trying to command the king of curses around, pfft. i couldn’t give a damn about them wanting that body back or whatever.”
yuki and yuta help you up. megumi stares at you, and choso has partially read the air, pitiful expression plastered across his face. itadori’s head hangs low. yours does too. you don’t blame him, you could never, but you’d like to beat sukuna dead right then and there. exorcize him out of his mind, over and over again. your blood boils, and you feel the cursed energy forming in the pit of your stomach. the ground breaks beneath you, literally, and everybody watches the crack extend into the horizon. you feel like a part of you has died again. the first one died when geto committed mass murder and disappeared off of the face of earth, the second one died when he told you to stop visiting the temple. the third one died on christmas eve, with suguru, and two more parts, the fifth and sixth, died when you found out your girls were dead, a few moments ago. you didn’t even know you had that many in you, but you knew you needed an outlet.
so, you use the only one you have around, that is not fatal to anybody: you let the shards break, you let them explode, allow them to cut you — you scream. you scream, falling to the ground, hands gripping at your hair. and you scream, you scream for nanako and mimiko, for suguru, for satoru, for shoko, for nanami who could’ve escaped his destiny had he not come back, for haibara, for inumaki, for mai, for mechamaru, for nobara who’s fighting death, for the youth you had lost, for the kids that are next to you in this hellhole, for the youth they’ve been stripped of, you scream for your life and scream. and megumi sees one of the women he grew up around losing it, and yuta and itadori see their teacher in shambles, maki sees her role model falling apart; yuki sees the only other special-grade, that’s not a teenager, she has left fighting to not blow up the country, and choso sees a talented sorcerer with a good heart dying inside.
and you scream, you scream until your throat is dry and even dryer and you cough, cough dry, cough blood, cough until you just stop.
megumi kneels down in front of you, and you just stare at him. he looks back at you, eyelashes wet with tears he’d never admit of having shed, silently begging you to not leave him too. he grasps your hands softly like suguru did on the first day you showed up at his temple and pulls you in to hug you. and you see in him the boy suguru used to be, and in all your other students the group of teenagers you built a family with and your heart breaks because they built their own too.
maki kneels down too, and hugs you too, and so does yuta, and although, sheepishly, yuji does that too. choso thinks a bit but megumi nods in approval and he does join, and yuki also circles her arms around you as you cry. deep down you feel and know they’re scared of what you would do, so they hold you down.
megumi never saw you cry once. not because you weren’t a cryer, the three of swords was marked by scalding iron on your heart, but because you never really cried in front of people you didn’t know, or people you didn’t want to perceive you as weak. but he remembers the only time — once, when him and tsumiki were staying over at gojo’s for the weekend — he heard you through the walls. he was eleven, he believes, and he still remembers how you sounded. the memory is sewn into his brain, and whenever he remembers it, his stomach knots and his lymph nodes harden. since then, sometimes, when he saw you smiling, he only thought about what’s kept underneath your smile and your designer clothes and jujutsu records that you broke.
“i raised them, they were my girls too.” you whisper, “they only wanted their dad to have a proper burial, was that really so much to ask for?” your head shakes in disapproval to their fate, “curse users or not, i still carry their picture around in my wallet, i still have every inch of my home full of pictures of them.”
you stop to catch a breath. they’re all still around you, not letting go.
“if it means killing kenjaku, i’ll turn myself into a vengeful spirit if it has to come to that.”
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squishy-squishy · 2 years ago
Text
Eclipse Lake alternate fight
Hi! This is my first Owl House fanfic and tickle fic. Just pure wholesomeness here. Summary: Let’s go wayyy back in time to the Eclipse Lake Amity vs Hunter fight. But instead of actually battling completely with magic, the two kids embrace their childish sides and fight a different way
Maybe he would have listened. If things had just been a little different٫ he would have listened.
Amity had tried to comfort Hunter after his breakdown٫ but of course٫ as soon as he had seen the portal key around her neck he lunged at her. She dodged out of the way, somersaulting and sending the Golden Guard tumbling to the ground.
“Aw, c’mon! Being nice usually works for Luz!”
He ran at her again, only for King to run in between them and shout a magic, sonic “WEH!”
In an instant, the little red bird that was following him had become a staff, and was grasped in Hunter’s hand, saving him from the attack. That tilted the scale, now he had a chance against Amity’s magic. He smirked at her shocked expression as she had the same realization. He moved in a flash of yellow light, but quickly found that a staff with a palisman felt nothing like the artificial magic that came from his old one. He yelped as he nearly lost his balance, sliding a few feet.
“Real staffs are weird-”
He was cut off by sticky abomination goo wrapping around him. It seeped into the sleeves on the coven scout uniform he had tried to disguise himself with. His staff once again came to the rescue, letting him escape the goo and teleport high above Amity.
Bolts of yellow magic lept around the empty lake, ricocheting off the walls. Two powerful witches, each with different fighting styles, neck and neck for the key. Hunter teleported all around her, and his staff clashed against the abomination goo she summoned as a shield. Once, twice, three times. His fingers narrowly brushed the key, but he could never grasp it before Amity knocked him away.
He became desperate, crazed. His eyes were wide and panicked as he fought. His teeth were gritted together so hard his jaw was aching. Every block, every dodge, every hit Amity got on him sent him spiraling. He couldn’t go back empty handed. He couldn’t, he couldn’t. If she escaped then he really might as well finish that grave he had been digging earlier, lie down in it, and never come out. It would be better than facing Belos after yet another failure.
Amity, on the other hand, was calm. Focused. Unlike Hunter, she had gotten plenty of sleep, and backup was on the way. She was confident in her ability, and knew how to use her staff and abomination magic at their best. She anticipated every attack, swiftly moving away with an extra graceful flair only Amity Blight could pull off.
At least, she did, until Hunter completely snapped.
“If you really wanna help, THEN GIVE ME THAT KEY!”
He caught the key with the end of the staff, and the rope holding it around her neck snapped. The key went flying, and the two teens collapsed to the ground.
Hunter tried to scramble to his feet, but Amity caught him around the waist and dragged him back down.
“Oh no you don’t!”
She hadn’t realized it, but in the process of tackling him back down, her thumbs had dug into his sides. It shot a feeling up his spine that he wasn’t expecting. A sort of tingly, electric feeling.
He squeaked, and fell back to his knees, his arms wrapped instinctively and protectively around his torso. Amity froze. King froze. Hunter stared at the ground in front of him and his ears went red.
What was that?!
He didn’t have much time to think about it, since after Amity snapped out of it she made a bolt for the key. He reached out to grab her but found himself flat on his back with a glob of purple goo holding him down. She calmly walked back over to him.
“W-what are you doing?!”
She knelt down next to him. “I’ve spotted a new opportunity. An opportunity to get you to calm down and stay here until backup arrives.” She hovered her hands over his sides.
He stared at her. She couldn’t possibly be serious. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Luz says laughter is the best medicine! And my siblings do this to me all the time. You’ll be fine.”
And with that, she rapidly squeezed at his sides.
It was almost comical how fast Hunter broke. He burst into giggles, his wide smile showing off the gap between his teeth. Any semblance of his tough, hardened and cocky Golden Guard persona melted away in an instant, revealing the dorky teenager he had hidden away. He threw his head to the side, hoping to at least save some of his dignity. “W-whahahat is thihis?! This is childihihish!”
“Good! I think you need to be a kid!” She drew a small spell circle in the air, and the abomination goo crept its way up towards his neck. Hunter squealed and scrunched up his shoulders.
King hopped up onto Amity’s shoulders. “Yes.. YES! Get him!” He climbed down and joined in on the chaos, poking at Hunter’s belly. His laughter became higher and squeakier, and he struggled to push King away with his hands pinned to his sides.
“Gehehet off! You’ll- you’ll pahahay for this!!” He threw his head from side to side. His laughter only picked up and his squirming became more intense when King crawled across his chest and went for his now reddish ears. “P-PALISMAHAHAN! HEHEHEELP!”
Amity gasped when the little red bird actually responded to Hunter’s pleas, and grew to a staff in Hunter’s hands. He used the same teleportation trick he had before to escape the goo, and dove for the key. Amity was just barely fast enough, climbing on her own staff and snatching the key off the ground before the two went tumbling down yet again.
Only this time, Hunter was at the advantage. Amity was stuck flat on her back, holding the key tightly to her chest. He was kneeling at her side, keeping her pinned down with one arm, and trying to pry the key away with the other. Years of training to be the Golden Guard made it easy to keep her down, but days without sleep made it difficult to take it away.
“Listen-” he started to say, making yet another unsuccessful attempt to steal it. “You’re strong, and I’m tired, but at the end of the day-”
His hand brushed against her neck. Amity squeaked and scrunched up her shoulders. After a few perplexed moments, Hunter’s mouth broke into a smirk.
“Oho, don’t tell me you have the same little weakness?” His palisman perched on his shoulder as he latched his hand onto her side. “Tell you what, Blight, you hand over that key and I’ll let you go. If you don’t give me it, I’ll just torture you until you let go of it. Either way, I win.”
Amity just stared back at him, clutching the portal key a little tighter. It was almost uncanny how much Hunter’s tone and expression reminded her of the twins when they were trying to get on her nerves. She saw Edric’s same look, and knowing what always happened when he had that gleam in his eye, she was a little scared. Still, she defiantly shook her head.
“Fine then. We’re doing this the hard way.” He skittered his fingers up and down her sides and ribs, and she burst into giggles. When Amity had tickled him, it was half to tire him out and half because from everything Luz had told her about him, he really needed to be a kid again and Amity decided to take it upon herself to fix that. She wasn’t trying to be too rough, or take it very far, just keep him there until Eda found them. But Hunter? He was motivated by spite, revenge, desperation. He really wasn’t going to ease up until she gave up the portal key, and it was maddening. The way he acted like a mean older sibling certainly wasn’t helping.
He hit a spot just between her underarms and ribs, and she screeched. For half a second she even considered ditching the key and just running. The only thing that kept her holding on was the thought of Luz, sick in bed at the Owl House and patiently waiting for her awesome girlfriend to come home. No way was she letting herself lose.
Even when Hunter started targeting that dreaded spot specifically.
“nAHAHAHAA! NO!”
“Aw, what’s wrong? Can’t take it yourself? Drop the key!”
“NEHEVER!”
Hunter laughed along with her. Despite the seriousness of getting the key, and the intense fight they had just had, he found himself having fun. The childish nature of a real battle turned tickle fight made his chest fill with a giddy feeling, one he hadn’t really gotten the chance to feel growing up in the Emperor’s Coven.
Eventually, Amity’s squirming allowed her to get a hand free to attack Hunter’s side with. He nearly pulled away in surprise
“H-HEHEY! Not again!”
“I’m nohohot giving up thahahat easily!!” She propped herself up on her elbow, continuing her attack while still trying to resist Hunter’s.
To King, it was an adorable sight. The two kids both had so much pressure from the adults in their lives, so much expectation to be absolutely perfect, and they had both let it go. It was a rare occasion to see either of them allow themselves to just… be kids. They acted like siblings, pushing and shoving, neither of them could hold the upper hand for too long. Eventually, the key was nearly forgotten in the playful chaos.
Nearly.
Both of them immediately ceased their tickling as soon as Kikimora’s voice could be heard echoing nearby. All of their childlike glee was sucked away in an instant, a brutal reminder of what was actually at stake.
Hunter moved his staff up to Amity’s throat, and she responded with shooting a spike of abomination goo inches away from his face with her free hand.
He glared down at her, but now Amity could see past it. The hurt behind his maroon eyes. Luz was right, he really was a bad but sad boy.
“At the end of the day, I know how to find you. And your human. So let’s just make this easy for both of us.”
Amity didn’t respond for a moment, and out of sight, she crunched the key in her hand before she silently dropped it into Hunter’s hand.
He flew away on his staff right as Eda arrived. She had to check on a still-a-little-out-of- breath Amity.
“Geez kid, what happened? Scared him off from the Titan’s blood?”
“No… but I found out something else.”
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nieceeee · 1 year ago
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“WEBBED UP”
P/S: Ever since you found out that the hero who saved you was actually your now boyfriend, things have shifted in your relationship. You have become so much more comfortable with each other and he is way more open and affectionate towards you. You love the way that he loves you but sometimes that affection can get you in trouble. Especially on days like this.
WC: 500
A/N: Decided to play my hand at a Spider-Man OC X reader. I’ll probably make it an entire world. I didn’t want to use one already created because I wanted to add specific powers. So here’s a little teaser.
Suggestive content
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Jabari Oshuna Morris has been acting as his worlds Spider-Man for years now. He has the typical spider powers but also has two additional power only know to him. Teleportation and the perfect binding with the symbiote that he can control on a whim. Jabari is a free flying Spider-Man who loves his city and everyone in it. He keeps his identity away from everyone to keep them safe but can he manage it when he falls for his new coworker. What happens when his two worlds start to mix?
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“Baby, I can't right now. I really have to go.” You were trying your best to get through your morning routine and get ready for work but your man clearly had other plans. You weren’t sure what it was but today he was all over you. And it didn't help that he had powers at all. You kept finding him everywhere you turned. Whether that was teleporting into the shower while you washed up or constantly pulling you near him with his webbing. He was insatiable this morning.
“Jabari, seriously baby I don't have the time right now.” You fuss at him as he holds your waist tightly while you try and pull your clothes on. He mumbled something under his breath but lets you go. You thought you were all good to finally get ready without distractions until it was time for you to leave the house. You turn to walk out the door when you felt a thick white rope of webbing wrap around your waist. “What the…bari?!” You yelp out as he whips you around and pulls you back into his arms. He smirks down at you as he traps your body in his. “Yeah, bring yo fine ass back over here.” He says, wrapping his arms around your waist, hands sliding down to the underside of your ass and squeezing slightly
He loved the way your body felt in his hands. The softness of your ass and he massaged his fingers into it and the way your perky breasts pressed against his chest, the faint beating of your heart tapping against him. “Boy you’re going to make me late for work.” You roll my eyes. A mmcht left his lips as he repeated the same gesture. “I can literally take you to work in seconds.” He says bending down to press his nose into your neck. “No, you cannot. How the hell am I going to explain just appearing at my desk?” You smack a hand against his muscled chest trying to free yourself from the sticky binding you were trapped in but he only wraps it tighter. “Bari, you know this stuff is sticky. It’s going to get all over me.” You say still trying to free yourself. “Only if you keep trying to escape. If you let me have my way with you, I can break it no problem.”he taunts you, speaking into your skin.
“No, Jabari. I just got ready. You’re going to make me a mess before I can even walk out the door.” Your fighting was useless against him. Between his super strength and his webs, you knew there was no way you were escaping this situation. “Come ooon.” He pouted, kissing you softly, his lips grazing over your sensitive skin. You breathe in slightly, that familiar tingle racing through your body. “Bari, I can't be late.” You groan, your defenses wavering under his touch. “You won’t.” Was the only thing he said before dragging his tongue up your neck…
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egopocalypse · 2 years ago
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Could I get some c!discduo pls
Vote me in this poll for a ficlet, sweet message, or WIP snippet!
TW: Mentions of character death, vomiting
There was a time in exile where he thought about giving up the discs. He thought that if he handed them over to Dream—if he gave them up like he gave up all his armor every day—then he would be welcomed back to L’Manberg, then he could go home, then Tubbo could forgive him, and they could be happy again like were before Wilbur—before Wilbur died.
Now he knows it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Dream would’ve just killed Tubbo sooner.
He croaks out a single word, the sound dying right as it escapes his throat. “Why?”
“I told you it wasn’t your time to die yet, Tommy.” Memories flit through his mind: lava bubbling and spitting flares far below; a tight clamp on his shoulder pulling him back under control; the stern, displeased voice that holds enough ice to chill his blood and bones. “I’m not letting our game end so easily.”
“It’s never been a game. Not to me. Not when it’s cost me and my friends, my brothers, our lives.”
“Your lives,” Dream muses. Dread curls in Tommy’s gut. “Are you sure it cost you those?”
“Of course it fucking did,” he says. “You killed me twice! You took—” 
He stops, a breath catching in his throat. He can’t say it. You took Tubbo.
Saying it would make it real. Saying it would do nothing to fix it. Saying it would hurt.
He’s so tired of being hurt. He’s tired of people being hurt for him.
“I took them.” Dream takes slow, steady steps around the cell, moving away from the wall of lava. “But what if I could give them back?”
A strangled noise rises in Tommy’s throat. “What?”
He steps back, putting more and more distance between him and Dream. 
Dream nods. “Did you ever wonder why I fought for Manberg? Did you ever think about what I got from JSchlatt?”
He extends his arms out, makes it a show for an unwilling audience of one.
“I have the key to resurrection, Tommy,” he says. “I can bring back anyone, even if they’ve lost all their lives. I can bring back Wilbur—”
“Tubbo,” Tommy croaks. “You can bring back Tubbo.”
Of course he’s the first to come to mind. How could he live another day without Tubbo? What is he except a vessel for his friends—a conduit for them to direct and command? What can he do with nothing else to live for?
“I can.” Dream tilts his head to the side. “But there are some conditions for that.”
“What are they?” 
“You can’t leave,” he says. “If you make this choice, you’ll have to listen to me, no matter what I say—”
“I’ll take it.”
Because at the end of the day, the conditions don’t matter. Dream could make—and has made—his life a living hell, and he would do it if it meant Tubbo was alive. He would do anything. 
Tubbo died because of Dream’s sick fucking obsession with him; he won’t let him rot because he wants to live.
Dream tilts his head to the side, and a cold sweat washes over Tommy’s skin. He knows the fucker is staring at him, probably smiling at him the way he used to in exile, but it doesn’t matter. Dream found everything he could use against him and twisted it, throwing him into a living nightmare. Even if he had chosen the discs over Tubbo, Tubbo would’ve died. Even though he chose Tubbo over the discs, Tubbo still died. 
There’s nothing Tommy can do. As long as Tubbo’s dead—as long as Dream has the means to bring him back—he’s trapped. He’s walking into the snare of his own will, even when he knows the rope will snap around his neck and crush his throat. He doesn’t have a choice.
“Then we have a deal,” Dream says. 
He slides something off from around his neck, then tosses it into the cell. 
“I’ll be back to visit you soon,” Dream says. “In the meantime, keep an eye on that for me. You’ll know when I kept my promise.”
Somewhere in the prison, Sam does something to summon Dream back. (He must’ve—Dream can’t teleport. He can’t.) Tommy stares at where he stood for a long time, fighting the nausea swirling in his gut, before he finally peels his eyes away and finds the thing Dream threw at his feet.
As soon as he sees the scratched, yet intact glass and the faded blue ink, he hurls into the basin, gagging on what little is left in his stomach. He hangs over the bowl, waiting until his shaking settles down, then peels away and clutches the compass to his chest, brushing his thumb over the etching he memorized (and lost) months ago.
Your Tubbo.
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shimmerbeasts · 17 days ago
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Learning her own term of magic took time, one that she had honed for a few months on her journey back to piltover and since then. She had yet to leave for Noxus. She was determined to have the noxian army under her mother's work to fix what damaged they wrought. Not everyone approved. Mel had learned of several noxians who died at the hand of Zaunites in the streets; but such a price was expected with how they had treated these people. A ruthlessness laid within the Daughter of Death; one that refused to live by Noxian values but also knew that sometimes fighting, violence, came with a necessary value to provide peace. Not in the way her mother taught, but because sometimes you have to fight for what you need. And that there was a price to such violence and expect retaliation. The magic hummed against Mel’s chest as she glanced over her shoulder. The arcane hummed with life against her wolven fingertips, walking along the streets of Piltover as repairs were being made. Noxians and Piltovans working side by side; fixing stone and rock and concrete to repair the mess. Yet there was one that was not like the others; the magic screamed around the body of an unknown figure.
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Months of listening to her magic, the empathy within the very strands of life. The arcane lived within everyone, though some had a deeper connection than others. And this one had a deep and intense strength and one of familiarity. She twisted down the alley until finally she snapped. Like a wolf she was, she turned and drew the veins of gold magic from her body and slammed the clone up against the wall. “You dare wander into my city, cloaked in the visage of another? I see through you, so I’m going to ask you one time; why are you here?” The threads twisted around the wrist of the clone, pinning her firmly against the wall. It slithered around her neck, weaving through the walls and attaching to her ankles to hold her firmly in place. Mel’s power grew in strength over the last few months, managing the magic as if it was second nature. Golden eyes stared down at the clone as she pulled back her white hood. “And don’t try to deceive me, because I will know. So let’s put whatever dance we like to tango to, and speak one leader to another.”
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Mel Merdarda had not headed back to Noxus after her mother's death. Instead, she stayed in Piltover. Even demanded that the Noxians in Ambessa's army help in the rebuilding efforts. It must be humiliating for any Noxian. But then when had Mel Merdarda ever done something, which completely aligned with how Noxus worked. The sly girl continued to surprise her.
It had been easy for LeBlanc to send another clone to Piltover and tail after Mel. This time, she wore the disguise of a simple girl, helping with the repairs of Piltover and Zaun. Always keeping just in the corner of Mel Merdarda's gaze. When the young leader of the old clan headed into a side alley, LeBlanc swiftly copied her clown once more, letting the false visage tail after Mel into the corridor.
Soon enough, Mel proved her cunning - oh, she was such an embodiment of guile, LeBlanc could not be prouder! - and whirled around, confronting the copy. Mel's magical signature had by now become intimately familiar to the Matron of Roses. The golden whisps and ropes laced around the copy's body as it was slammed against a wall. It gave a soft grunt, despite having no sense of the impact. The magic enraptured the clone further. LeBlanc casually teleported herself into the shadows of the alley and waited. The copy slowly rose its hands as if in a mockery of surrender.
"Of course, you will."
LeBlanc's voice came from behind Mel as she stepped out of the dark of the alley. Her body draped itself in shadows. The copy in the young mage's magical mesh of golden light dissolved into shadows, not after smiling, before they dragged their way across the floor and united with LeBlanc's clone's body.
"You'll have to forgive the layering of illusions", LeBlanc remarked idly, "I prefer to have my hands free. But you are right. How about we put that little tango of ours on pause and talk one leader to another? Though maybe not in such a dingy alley? How about a glass of mulled wine?"
Immediately a web of blood-red thorny vines and gore puddles sprung up around them both. As the mess climbed up Mel's body, coating her limbs and face, LeBlanc: "Don't worry. I let you go the moment we are done with this conversation. It will be like you never left, sister."
Soon enough the layers gave way to what seemed to be a rather pretty, yet modestly kept room. On the floor was a mosaic of black and purple stones, shaping the bloom of a rose. The round desk had golden lines swirling up and down its wood like the streaks of a river. Two wine chalices rested before two comfortable, red cushioned chairs of dark wood.
LeBlanc picked up a dark bottle and poured mulled wine into each glass. "Sit", she invited Mel, "I promise you the wine is real. You are not drinking air." The Matron sat down and crossed her legs over one another. The shadows dropped and Mel once more was greeted by the familiar face of the Lunari girl, which Ambessa had decapitated.
"I suppose a proper introduction might be in order", LeBlanc said, "Though I get the distinct impression that you may have already figured out whom you are speaking to. Even if, like you said, I keep wearing false faces."
@valiantthearts cont. from here.
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cupidscrule · 9 months ago
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The way the rope teleported around my neck 🤣🤣🤣
“I bet on losing dogs. I know their losing and I’ll pay for my place, by the ring”
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tender-rosiey · 2 years ago
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my wife — gojo satoru x f!reader
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ᴀ/ɴ: yum protective gojo
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you understood why your relationship had to be hidden. gojo lived in a world where anything he holds dear is subject to any kind of pain, and he loved you way too much to witness you go through that.
he couldn’t bare the thought of any harm coming your way, you, out of everything and everyone he had, were too precious for him to lose.
so imagine what he felt when he couldn’t find you anywhere in the house, your usual places for dates and his clan’s mansion.
the clan who thought you were but a mere plaything, a no emotions attached kind of thing.
you were supposed to be there though; he left you there and told them not to let anyone come near the room you were saying in, so where the hell are you?
his steps echoed through out the halls and each and every person can tell that he is mad, absolutely livid. he noticed in the corner of his eyes one of the members of the house, he moved in wide strides before he is finally in front of the man.
gojo holds him harshly by the collar, slamming him onto the wall as he speaks, “where is she?” the guard stutters, unable to form a single coherent word. gojo applies more pressure to the guy’s neck, “I am not asking again after this. WHERE THE FUCK IS MY WIFE?!”
“my lord, I swear to you! I know nothing of a wife!” the man cries out.
gojo furiously replies, “obviously you don’t, but didn’t I say not to let anyone and I meant anyone come near the woman in that room?”
the servant gulps before answering, “lord naoya said you told him to come and get—“ soon the man is thrown to the ground and coughs out blood.
“I expect not to see your face again in the mansion,” gojo says before he exits out of the door.
your tears won’t stop cascading down your face, and your body can’t stop its trembling in the face of the man who is wickedly grinding in front of you.
you are tied up, rendered useless, a mere non-sorcerer. the blonde man’s hand holds your chin as he checks your face, “gojo sure chose a pretty one,” his face inches closer to you and you squirm trying to pull away, “don’t worry; it will be fun.”
the cloth around your mouth finally comes undone and you scream with all your might, “SATORU!” and the man slaps you.
“you bitch—“
behind the man is your husband, somehow smiling, “hey wifey!”
“satoru…” you mumble his name in relief.
he holds naoya by the back of his collar before throwing him behind him.
your husband kneels in front of you, and unties your ropes. his hand caresses your face, “I am just gonna deal with him then we can go back home, ‘kay?” you nod softly and he presses a kiss to your cheek, “don’t worry; it won’t take any time.”
his eyebrows furrow at the mark on your face before he lets out a sigh.
“now!” he chirps, turning to naoya, “I believe we have some business to settle, no?”
said man stands up wincing, his body rather bruised just from the throw gojo did, “oh it’s nothing; I was merely wanting to see just what is it that’s so good about her that you would marry a non-sorcerer—“ he takes a breath, still having the energy to smirk, “she has a pretty good body; doesn’t she, satoru-chan?”
in a split second, naoya’s face is slammed into the ground and gojo’s foot on his head, pressing it further to the ground, “keep my wife out of this, naoya.”
in a pathetic attempt, naoya tries to break out of this predicament, but gojo breaks his arms making him release an agonizing scream. you’re grateful you turned around like satoru told you passingly, in a voice anyone can barely hear.
“this should teach you a lesson, naoya-chan,” he finally steps off him, “stay away from my wife or this is the last time you get to feel any of your limbs, you or anyone else.”
gojo finally is beside you, his arms slipping under your knee and back so he can carry you bridal style, “we are gonna go home now,” and the smile on his face makes your body release all the tension it has been feeling and you hold him tightly.
you hear him chuckle before you’re teleported to your shared house, “home sweet home!” your husband says out loud after setting you down.
“yeah…” you reply back tiredly. you approach your husband’s back and wrap your arms your arms around him once again so he intertwines your fingers while you speak softly, “thank you, ‘toru.”
“don’t worry,” he assures, “it won’t happen again; I swear to you.”
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taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @bakugossanity @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @waosobii @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @fiona782 @kisakitwister @iamjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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ms-starflower · 3 years ago
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Spook-tober Maribat — Day 10 — Masks/Capes
@maribat-october-rarepairs
Alright! Here we go! The premise of the story is inspired by Teleporting into your life by @izanae Great story!! You should totally read it if you haven’t already!
I will totally write more about it! There is technically no pairing, but there is going to be one in the future (when I’ve decided which one)!
Also, I will post the Day 10 of Maribat Rare Pairs tomorrow. I totally have the idea, I just didn’t have time to write it yet. Oops.
Edit: Here is part 2.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
When she started her day, Marinette had been prepared for it to be bad. Hawkmoth had been silent for too long now, and she was seventy-five percent sure he was going to strike today. How bad it was going to be was a coin’s toss, of course, but Marinette was ready.
Or so she thought.
The Akuma, who had decided that striking in the middle of her Math class was the best idea ever, wasn’t objectively that bad. There weren't any minions! That was good, minions were a pain to deal with. But neither her, nor Chat Noir knew who it was, or what their powers were. The only thing they could say, at first, was that the person getting hit by the laser were teleported elsewhere.
Then, a little girl that had been separated from her father, in the park, was hit despite Ladybug's best effort to save her. The good thing was that she got out without any injuries, and that they now knew what the Akuma's power was.
The bad news was that it was bad.
The little girl had reappeared beside her father, a leather-like rope bounding her wrist with her father’s. Ladybug could feel her eyes widen in realisation, looking back toward Chat to see the same horror she was feeling on his face.
“Hahahaha,” the Akuma cackled, pointing their gloved hand toward the reunited father-daughter duo. “Now you can’t leave her behind! You’re forced to stay with her and be a dad!”
“Oh, no, no, no,” Ladybug muttered under her breath, panic overwhelming her. Her parents couldn’t know she was Ladybug, they couldn’t.
She saw movement from the corner of her eyes and had just enough time to grab Chat and hide, before the Akuma’s laser touched where they had been.
“That’s no good, my Lady,” he told her, panic in his voice. “My father can’t know I’m Chat Noir, it would be really, really, very bad!”
“Don’t worry, Chaton,” she told him with a confidence she didn’t feel. “We just have to not get hit.”
It wasn’t that easy, of course it wasn’t. Because this Akuma had to be a slippery one, of course it was.
They almost had them when it happened. Chat was distracted helping a kid run and was almost hit by the laser, and Ladybug didn’t really think. She had seen the panic in his eyes when he had talked about his dad. Letting her parents know about her being Ladybug was the less of the two evils, in this situation. She jumped in, pushing Chat out of the way.
Her last thought, before getting hit in the chest, was that she really hoped her parents were hiding in the bakery and not in an akuma shelter. Then, she was surrounded by a blinding light.
Next thing she knew, she stumbled on her feet, smashing face first in a hard chest. Taking quickly a couple of steps back, she looked around her, her panic fueled mind not really registering the anomalies.
She… wasn’t in the bakery. Not in an akuma shelter, either, they weren’t this… big. And the people around her were all wearing masks.
“You,” she started dumbly, blinking at the tall man in black in front of her. “You aren’t my father.”
“Ah,” he told her blandly, looking down, between her and the rope binding them. “Not as far as I know, no.”
She looked down at the rope, blinking confusedly at it. She could already feel her heart start to beat faster.
“It’s not what was supposed to happen,” she started, only to be interrupted by the sensation of a blade on her neck.
“Who are you? How did you get in here?” A boy, maybe her age, maybe a bit younger, it was hard to tell with the mask, asked her with a harsh tone.
“No, no, no, you don’t understand,” she said desperately, shaking her head and her eyes tearing up. “It’s not what was supposed to happen! The Akuma wasn’t supposed to do that!”
“Oh my god,” a redhead in a wheelchair, and the only one not wearing a mask, exclaimed suddenly, making everyone turn toward her. “You’re Ladybug!”
“Um, yes?” She said, her mental breakdown momentarily forgotten. She only now realised that they were talking in English. “Are we… Are we not in France anymore?!”
She ignored the crack in her voice, looking around her again. She used her gloved hand to push away the katana at her throat, knowing the blade couldn’t get through, making the boy holding it hiss furiously.
“No, you’re not,” the man that shouldn’t be bound to her, told her slowly, and she really looked at his face for the first time since she got here. Only to jerk back in panic, stretching the rope that shouldn’t be there at its limit.
“Holy— Holy Duck!” She exclaimed, pointing rudely at him and ignoring the person that muttered ‘holy duck?’ behind her. “You’re— You’re Batman!”
“I am,” freaking Batman told her, with a softer voice than what she had been expecting.
“You shouldn’t!”
“Hey, kid,” a guy in a dumpster fire of a red helmet told her softly, taking a step toward her. “Why don’t you tell us what is happening, exactly?”
“”This is not what the Akuma is supposed to do! Non!” She screamed, waving her hands hysterically. She barely noticed how it was making Batman's arm move uncontrollably. “It was supposed to bind me to my father! You’re not my father, you can’t be! Because that would mean that papa isn’t my father, and it can’t be. It’s not, because my life can’t be a lie! And— And— Who finds out they are adopted because of a supervillain! I can’t be that unlucky! It’s a misunderstanding! The Akuma probably glitched! Because freaking Batman can’t be my father!”
She ended her tirade on a high pitched tone, everyone in the… laboratory? was staring at her like she was on the verge of insanity, even the stabby kid! To be fair, she was feeling on the edge of insanity.
“Holy shit, B,” the red helmet person said with awe in his tone. “You got another one.”
Batman only stared at her with his creepy white mask-eyes, and she felt like she was going to cry. But she couldn’t, because Chat was back in Paris, and she needed to stop the Akuma before he was sent to his father. Taking a deep breath, she buried down all of her feelings, schooling her features.
“I need to go back to Paris,” she said, looking down at her wrist. “And it looks like you’ll need to come with me.”
“You don’t think you will simply let—” Stabby Boy started, only to be cut by Batman’s hand.
“How urgent is the situation?” He asked her, still staring at her.
“Very,” she told him with great emphasis.
“Alright, but we both come back here after,” he waited for her to agree before nodding, ignoring the protest it caused. “If we use a Zeta Tube we could—”
“We won’t need it,” she interrupted, opening her yoyo to take out the horse Miraculous, under the incredulous stare of everyone. “I have an instantaneous way of travel.”
She looked down at the box, frowning in thought.
“Batman can’t be seen in Paris,” she said slowly, still in an internal debate.
“If you think that he is going to unmask—” Stabby Boy said, but Ladybug only waved him off. She heard a choked off laughter, but ignored it.
“Take that, put it on,” she told Batman, giving him the Miraculous.
“I don’t use magic,” he told her, looking down at it.
“I’m sorry to hurt your… sensibilities, Monsieur Batman,” she said with a faux-cheerful smile. “But today, you do. I can’t let Hawkmoth learn that Batman is my— And, if you don’t have a suit that you could change in in the next thirty seconds, you’re putting on this Miraculous.”
He stared at her some more, trying to intimidate her, probably, but she didn’t have time for that, so she just grabbed his hand and put the Miraculous in it.
“It’s official,” Red Helmet Guy muttered to another man wearing blue and black. “She is my favorite sibling.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
It took thirty minute to defeat the Akuma, after they got back to Paris. Fighting while being bound to Batman had been surprisingly easy. Awkward, at first, but he was good enough to adapt to her, and they quickly got the hang of it.
They made a detour quickly for her to recharge, hidden from him, before they got back to the Batcave. The freaking Batcave. And Ladybug was now surrounded by a bunch of Gotham vigilantes, wondering if now was a good time to break down.
“So, you’re B kid,” Red Helmet Guy started, raising his hands to take off his helmet.
“Non!” she screamed, taking an involuntary step toward him. “Don’t take off your mask!”
He paused, tilting his head slightly.
“Why? All you have to do is ask your mom who your dad is, and you will know who Batman is.”
“I— I won’t do that,” she said slowly, looking between the people in the cave. “I’m not taking my mask off, either.”
“What,” Batman said, and it probably should have been a question, but it really wasn’t.
“I can’t do that,” she told him, looking down at the Horse Miraculous in her hands. “I can’t risk my identity with Hawkmoth out there.”
“We are not even in Paris!” A young man sitting at the computer chair told her incredulously.
“There is no way for Hawkmoth to reach us, here,” Batman told her softly, and she was surprised by the softness once again.
“But,” she started, taking a deep breath before looking straight at the creepy white eyes. “Can you promise, with absolute certainty, that you will never set foot in Paris while Hawkmoth is actif. Not as Batman, not as your civilian self.”
He didn’t respond, and she huffed with a wry smile.
“That’s why,” she told him, putting on Kaalki’s glasses and unifying them with Tikki. “I know it’s hard to accept, but I can’t take off the mask until Hawkmoth is defeated. And that’s why I don’t want to know your identities, I can’t risk them either.”
“So what? We just let you go?” Stabby Boy told her with disdain. “We may share blood, but that doesn’t mean we should trust you.”
“See, the fact that you share blood with Batman is the exact type of infos I don’t want to know,” she said, rolling her eyes at him. “I’m not asking you to trust me. That’s like, the total opposite of what I’m asking you to do. I’m sorry, but you really don’t have any choice in the matter.”
Batman opened his mouth to say something, probably a protest, but she activated Voyage under her feet, not letting anyone react before she closed it back.
It was the best thing to do.
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bi-bard · 3 years ago
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Better Than Anyone Else - Castiel Imagine (Supernatural)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Title: Better Than Anyone Else
Pairing: Castiel X Reader
Requested: by @zizzlekwum
Word Count: 1,306 words
Warning(s): cussing, kidnapping, insults, Dean can't really keep his mouth shut
Summary: (Season 5) (Y/n) and Castiel are taken hostage by angels in the hopes of getting information on how the Winchesters plan on stopping the apocalypse. (Y/n) finally reaches their boiling point with the angels that try to make Cas feel like shit.
Author's Note: I swear, Cas is one of my favorite characters to write for.
Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)
-------------------------------------
I was seething.
I watched as the angels strutted around Cas and me. We were tied across from each other. Cas with some weird kind of chain and me with just rope.
They just kept poking at him.
Mocking him for his humanity. His caring nature.
It pissed me off.
"Isn't it pathetic," one of them asked. "Knowing that your choice to help the humans is pointless? You trusted them... cared about them... all for it to go to waste. They don't care about you, you're just a tool to them."
"Leave him alone," I snapped, tugging at the ropes harshly. I didn't even wince at the feeling of the material burning my skin.
"Shut up, you gnat," the 'head angel' of the group said. "You are one of the biggest reasons Castiel forgot his purpose."
"He didn't forget his purpose," I hissed. "He found it."
She held her blade to my neck, grabbing my hair so I couldn't wiggle away.
"He's one of the most caring creatures I've ever met," I continued, ignoring my fear. "He's a hero. Not just to me but to so many others. You are just trying to make him hate all he's done so he can be guilt-tripped into helping you. If you were worth helping, you wouldn't have to do that."
The angel nearly growled at me before stepping away.
I started combatting words with words.
"You mean nothing to them" was met with my response of "You're amazing and I'm honored to even know you."
"If you didn't have powers, they'd drop you like dead weight," was met with, "Don't listen to them. The boys and I think you're brilliant. You're amazing... a hero."
"They obviously don't need you... they would've saved you by now," was met with, "Sam and Dean will be here soon, they just can't teleport."
This continued until the doors were slammed open. I smiled to myself. Sam and Dean stormed in and started fighting. Sam quickly cut the ropes from my wrist and ankles and grabbed the blade the had rolled from one of the angels.
"One second," I said to Cas quickly, going after the main angel.
I sunk the blade into her stomach, ripping a key from around her vessel's neck.
"Didn't know angels used such basic locks on shit," I muttered, undoing the lock. Cas stood up instantly, moving me out of the way so he could smite an angel that was behind me.
The action died down and we all looked around to check on each other.
"All of us alright," Dean asked. I nodded. "Let's go, Bobby's waiting for us."
We went to walk out but Cas called my name. I turned back to him. He gently grabbed my hands. I blushed as I watched how careful he was as he healed the rope burns.
"Thank you," I mumbled, looking up at him.
I noticed how close we were. I took a deep breath in before turning around and following Sam and Dean. Cas teleported out.
"How are you feeling," Sam asked as Dean started driving.
"I've been better," I muttered. "They just kept insulting him. Like they knew it would hurt more than hitting him."
"What did you do," Sam asked.
"Defended him," I replied. "He deserved that. Even after they held a blade to my throat, I just wanted him to know that we cared."
There was a moment of silence.
"(Y/n)," Dean said carefully. "Do you promise not to hit me after I ask my next question?"
"I can't promise something like that, I've heard some dumb questions come out of your mouth," I replied, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Do you... love Cas," he asked.
My breath stopped in my throat for a moment.
I looked down. Was love the right word? Was that too far? I definitely liked him. He was sweet and brave but... love? He'd be uncomfortable if I said love. I sighed... maybe I did love him.
"I don't know if 'love' is too far or not," I finally admitted.
"Holy shit," Dean sounded so excited. I chuckled. "I fricking knew it! Sam, you owe me twenty bucks!"
"You bet on me?"
"...No," Dean suddenly turned guilty when he realized that I was unhappy with his choice.
"Sam."
"It was Dean's idea," he said, throwing his brother under the bus immediately. I looked at Dean.
"(Y/n)... listen..."
--time skip--
I was looking through Bobby's basement for him. He was working on some project and just needed me to help him grab some things. I was happy too. Working with Bobby was not as scary as some would assume.
I was heading back up the stairs when I heard Cas and Dean in the kitchen.
"I just want to know why (Y/n) defended me so adamantly," I froze, realizing neither one had noticed me.
"I can't tell you that, Cas, you need to ask them," he replied.
"You know and won't tell me," Cas said it as a statement, not a question.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I can't."
"Dean, I don't understand-"
"I'm sorry, Cas, but this is (Y/n)'s business."
I guess I didn't know how long they had been going around in a circle. Still, what happened next made me want to throw what I was holding at Dean's head.
"Is there something wrong with (Y/n)? Are you worried about them? What do I not know-"
"Guys," I heard Sam try to intervene.
"(Y/n) loves you, Cas," Dean finally snapped. "There! You know why now!"
My heart just sank, "How fucking dare you?"
Dean looked at me with a panicked look.
"(Y/n)-"
I held up a hand. I walked to the living, placed what Bobby asked for on the table, and then walked out of the house.
"Where are you going," Sam asked, going to stop me.
"On a walk," I snapped, slamming the front door shut behind me.
I don't even know how far into Bobby's yard I had walked. I just kept going. I was angry and stressed and embarrassed. I was ready to fight Dean and leave him tied up in the trunk of his own car.
"(Y/n)," I heard the deep voice from behind me. I ignored it. "(Y/n)."
"Cas, I really don't wanna-"
I ended up walking straight into his chest. I took a step back and looked up at his face.
"Cas... we can just forget that," I motioned toward the house. "We don't have to worry about it."
"No."
"No?"
"I don't want to forget about it," he muttered. "It made me very happy when I heard you loved me."
"Oh," I mumbled.
"I... I love you too," he had a small grin on his face, seeming nervous. Angel of the Lord... nervous.
"You do?"
"Yes," Cas nodded.
"Oh," I mumbled again.
He stepped closer to me. I felt my entire base heat up at the motion. Being this close to Cas... or anyone really... was kind of new to me. I watched him closely and saw him furrow his eyebrows.
"This is where I'm supposed to kiss you, right," he asked softly.
"If you want to."
"I want to," he replied. I smiled widely at him.
I leaned in and pressed my lips to his lightly. I grabbed the lapels of his jacket. It felt like I was going to lose him if I did. He slowly reached out to touch my sides as he relaxed into the kiss. It was a perfect moment.
I slowly pulled away, trying to hold back a laugh as he tried to lean forward and kiss me again.
"I love you," I whispered, my forehead touching him.
"I love you too," he mumbled back. "And I'd like to kiss you again."
"Be my guest," I chuckled, pulling him back into a kiss.
What a perfect moment?
-------------------------------------
Masterlist
What I Write For
Request Guidelines
Musical Prompts
Small Moments With…
When Worlds Collide (Doctor Who Crossover Series) Masterlist
Some Original Characters
folklore/evermore Writing Challenge (and Masterlist)
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ask-paradox-and-friends · 9 months ago
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*their intros*
Rei:*walking in* "overwhelming power!"
Mai:*dashes past* "blitzing speed!"
Both girls:"this is destiny!"/"know the gravity of the situation!"
--
Pelia:*walking up to dearil* "such a hurry. Let's take this time to keep it slow."
Dearil:*Petting pelias back* "time for the elderly to show the younglings how we used to do it."
--
Naruko:*walks into screen spinning a rope dart at high speed and then with one swipe of her sword meena suddenly appers* "fall like the crashing waves."
Menma:"this whirlpool shall swallow you."
--
Saito:*Walks up to pose and wipes his knuckles gripping his sword only to be stopped by Okita who's smiling like a mad man*
Okita:no no Kiruyu-chan! We should savor this!!!
--
Kaito:*spinning his cane around and plants it unto the ground and leans against his staff*
Legion:GAHAHAHA! This'll be fun!
--
Tsugu:*steps up* I'll do it!
Sayo:*Nudges her out of the way* I'll start!
Tsugu:*pulls her backwards* NO!
Sayo:*Grips her shirt* YOU ALWAYS DO THIS!
*they bicker then get into fighting stances*
--
Pico:target found.
Otis:dispatching Opponents.
--
Bat:*on the phone* yeah...yeah I hear you sis. Uh huh. How are those two doing? Uh huh. Yeah! That's great! Tell Mochi I say hi!
Garou:*walks by* let's go. I only have a week off of work.
Bat:...you have a job?
--
Bun:*Stomps into frame which each step shaking the camera. When it pans up Draque is sitting on his shoulder.*
Draque:Let's go! I want to break heads!
--
Sunblood:*Teleports into the arena and smiles flexing* hahahaha! Let's go!
Moontear:*lands on the ground showing rocket engines in her legs and sprouts vibration blades like wolverine.* be careful.
--
Paradox:*Jumps into the frame shaking the camera and cracking knickles* hmmm looks like some funnn...*gets his sister's foot on his head bending his neck bad enough it cracks*
Raven:let's go! My blood is burning with Vigor!
Paradox:GET THW FUCK OFF ME! *throws her off and recracks his neck back into place.*
youtube
youtube
I feel like if I make a fighting game story with my OCs with friends OCs as guest characters I think u can make something crazier.
Just need a main plot after I make character Bios.
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catharrington · 3 years ago
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Part 5 of my 1950’s cat boy Steve house husband and milk delivery boy Billy au!!!
Previous parts here
I’ve got a couple more planned so be on the look out, also I’m super proud of some of the frilly ass dialogue here. Educated and sassy melodramatic cat boys and their himbo love interests have rights too!!
Tagging: @withoneheadlight @magellan-88 @spreckle
Part 5: Fly me to the moon
Steve was the one who walked down the steps this time. The one who braved the wall of thorns and the iron spikes and the what-have-you magical force keeping them apart.
He gathered up the silk of his dressing robe and walked down the steps until he was just a breath away from Billy. Until they were cloaked even farther into the shadow of the night. The branches of the large trees in the yard covering them from even the moonlight.
Billy backed up until he laid flushed against the bark of one tree. His body seemed so relaxed, so different, from how Steve typically saw him. It was easy to follow him until they were right up close.
They stand together in silence. Flush so their breath makes enough noise to fill the space between them. The crickets and noises of the night keep going around and around them like fake snow flakes in a suspended globe.
Steve doesn’t realize he’s been watching Billy’s lips the whole time until they move.
“You remind me of my mother,” Billy breaks the silence.
“A compliment in your mind, I’m sure,” Steve quips back quietly. His voice light, soft, a giggle following. Billy let’s out his own airy laughter, Steve leans ever closer. “Why do I remind you of her? We look similar?”
Billy shook his head. His lovely long blond hair moving along. “Nah, actually— you don’t look a thing like her. I meant in other ways. In your sadness, mostly.”
Steve scoffed, wanted to argue. To cover up. To insist he was fine. But he couldn’t tell those blue eyes a lie. “You find me sad? Do you pity me?”
“I don’t find you sad, you have sadness inside you.” Billy shifted so he was looking straight into Steve’s eyes, his stance anything but casual as he leaned against the tree. “I don’t know how to describe it, it’s just like. Sadness clings to you like the silk of that robe. In the way your eyes get dark and lonely when you think I’m not looking. In the way you sit out on the porch as if your living room was roomin’ a ghost.”
Steve swallowed any noise down in his throat that struggled to get out. He turned his head down in shame, then felt two tentative fingers against his jaw.
Moving Steve’s face back up, Billy’s eyes flicked down Steve’s neck. The marks still lingering there. Then search his face to where the side of his eye socket must be turning purple by now.
A stark contrast to the light of the moon above their heads. A stark contrast to the light Billy seems to always bring with him.
The silence lingers on, coils and swoops around them.
Billy’s whole hand moves to be a heavy, reassuring weight on Steve’s jaw. Cradling him softly, gently, like something to be protected. He stood watching with an open hand and an open face as if he truly wanted to listen to Steve speak. As if he actually gave a damn about what he felt, what his meager opinion was, on the chain around his ring finger.
“I hate him,” Steve admits. His stomach nearly giving out the contents of his supper. But he feels teleported in Billy’s eyes. In his hands.
“Mr. Smith. I hate him. I feel fear around my husband, fear inside our marriage bed. I fear him coming home from work and I fear his voice. But yet… I manage. The house he has provided for me is nice. My parents are happy I married a rich man. The man they choose for me from a long list of handsome suitors.” Steve shivered from his own words.
He lifted two hands to clutch around Billy’s arm that’s bent and cupping his face. A thick rope that acted as a lifeline in swaying waters. “And I have you every morning. My milk man, my writing muse.”
Billy moved so he was cupping Steve’s face with both his hands. Even gentler, even softer. His fingers were short and thickly stocky and rough from work, but they were warm. So, so warm. When his husband’s hands always seemed to feel so cold.
“This was an arrangement, then? An-an arranged marriage? I didn’t know that was even a thing anymore?” Billy chuckled in disbelief.
And it made Steve laugh too, in a self loathing sort of bitterness. “Well, it allowed my parents to be very well kept. Happy, even. For what I did. So…,” Steve’s voice lingered. Faded out into silence again.
Billy’s eyes flicked around his face. Sprinting to his eyes, down to his lips, towards the bruise on his socket, and then to his ears. They are facing forwards. Fully putting all their many attentions on Billy’s smoky denim jacket, and his tingling touch. They cheat Steve from any chance about being coy with what he wants.
His tail would be wrapped around Billy’s strong forearms like his hands are, if it weren’t trapped under the silk of his dress robe.
Billy opened his mouth slowly, deliberately. Speaking so his lips were plump when they parted and so his eyes never left Steve’s own.
“Do you love him?” He asked.
Steve laughed again, a soft exhaling thing that sounded more like a content trill. “Does a song bird find the silver bars of its cage to be beautiful?”
Billy kept quiet for a moment, blinking slowly, before replying: “What does that mean?”
“My simple milk man,” Steve laughed fuller this time. A rose tint coming up on his cheeks. He reached forward to tug playfully at Billy’s jacket collar. “I meant no. No, I could never love a cage.”
Billy chuckles along. And now with his hands on Billy’s chest, Steve can feel the way his chest swells with it. How his heart beats with it. How his whole body is just as hot as his hands, maybe even hotter.
“Good,” Billy says like he’s releasing a long held breath, “because I seriously can’t stop thinking about you.”
And then he pulled Steve’s chin so it tilted slightly to the side, and he moved forwards so their lips caught in a blistering kiss.
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