#and built a better world one student at a time

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - BEGIN AGAIN

A/N: Look what I have for you. Is it Christmas or what? So, this one is a bit shorter, but I wanted to give you something. I am still a sucker for Logan. I just want him so bad, oh my god!

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: angst, but fluff, implied sex?

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story has sexual scenes.

Words: 2500+

Important note: HughJackman!Wolverine - always!

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - BEGIN AGAIN

My body winced and I opened my eyes. The nightmare was gone. I was back in the real world. Was it better than the dream? No. But I was back, on a motel bed that smelled like bleach and mould. At least I had a bed to rest on tonight. Maybe tomorrow wouldn’t be as promising as today. Hell, I could be dead now. 

I felt a warm touch on my belly. Fingers traced patterns on my skin. My eyes lifted, meeting the green ones. “Are you okay, baby?” Logan whispered into the darkness. 

It was a ridiculous question to ask. I was not okay. Shit, he wasn’t either. We went through literal hell. So I snuggled closer to him, sniffing his scent as I tried to suppress my tears. “No,” I mumbled into the white top he wore. “I see them in my dreams, haunting me. They are calling my name, pleading for my help.” 

We lost everything, everyone. 

It started when the mutant hunters killed the strongest of us - Jean. We didn’t know how the fuck they managed to do it. She was the fucking Phoenix. We quickly learnt they created a weapon to strip us of our powers. Afterwards, it was too easy. With Jean gone, we knew the rest of us was next. 

Scott died a week later. He wanted revenge. He tried to kill those who killed his love, his woman. Unfortunately, he was captured, stripped of his powers and murdered. 

Charles felt it all. He felt it when Jean died. He felt when Scott’s heart started to beat. We knew this was the end of the line when he told us. 

The whole school prepared for war. The youngest students were sent home or away with those who didn’t want to fight. The rest of them we trained. They wanted to stay, fight with us, and protect the school and this family we built. 

And we lost. 

They all died. Charles, Storm, Hank, Peter… They were all gone. Logan and I fled the moment we realised there wasn’t much we could do. We saw the dead bodies around the school—our friends, and students, lifeless on the bloody wooden floors in a place we once called home.

I hated we left them there. I hated we couldn’t say goodbye. I would have died too if Logan hadn’t pulled me out of the bloodshed. The thought of leaving Logan alone in this unfair cruel world pained me. At least, we survived together. At least I had him.

It’s been two days since we lost our friends - the family we loved and cherished. Two days since we lost our lives and were on the run. This was the first night we were able to lay low and rest. It was because we escaped the States and entered Canada before being caught. It helped that Logan was Canadian.

Logan kissed my forehead. “I see them, too. Their faces haunt me. That’s why I can’t sleep.” 

A tear escaped my eye. I quickly wiped it away. “There was so much blood, Logan. They let them bleed out.” 

“I know,” he whispered. 

I started to cry. My body was shivering. I felt his arms wrap around my shoulder and middle, pulling me as close to him as possible. “Shhh,” he kissed the top of my head. I couldn’t help myself. My emotions were all over the place. I wasn’t able to mourn the loss properly. We had to hide from the world. There was no time to think about our next steps. 

His touch became soothing. I felt the love radiating towards me. I loved him deeply, madly. For this man, I would sell my soul to the devil. And in this twisted world full of death, I was happy that we survived the biggest nightmare of our lives. 

I don’t know how I managed to fall asleep, but when I opened my eyes again, I saw the sun coming through the crack of the curtains. The big, strong arms never left my body. When I glanced at Logan’s face, his eyes were closed. His breathing was even. He was asleep. Good. 

I remained in his embrace, snuggled to his side. I used this opportunity to think about our next steps. I needed to occupy my mind with something, anything. 

We left the States. Now what? Was it wise to stay in Canada? It was so close to the States. What if they decide to hunt mutants in here, too? Even if we moved north, they’d find us there. And maybe… nowhere was safe. Our destiny was already written. We were doomed. 

My eyes were locked on the beige ceiling, and I imagined a plan as my thoughts ran through my mind. I was going back and forth. When I didn’t like the plan, I erased it to a certain point and then moved forward again. 

Out of nowhere, I gasped. There was an important detail I forgot. How could I be so stupid? 

“What?” Logan’s eyes snapped open. He sat up and pushed me away in the process. His fists were clenched, adamantium claws on full display, ready to fight. His breathing was hard. I scared him. Shit. 

Gently, I put my hand on his chest. “It’s just me, I’m so sorry. Everything’s fine.” 

“You okay, baby?” he asked when his eyes found mine. Once I nodded, the claws retracted and he exhaled. “You scared me, Y/N. I thought someone found us. Don’t fucking ever do that again.” 

I shook my head, pressing him back on the bed. “I’m so sorry. I was just thinking about our future. I had been contemplating our next steps, thinking back and forth. And…” I sighed. “We can’t stay in Canada.” 

He frowned, then raised a brow. “Why?” It was a genuine question. 

“You are Canadian, Logan. This will be the first country they’d start to look for you - for us,” I explained. “I get that Canada is one of the biggest states in the world. But, as I said, the main focus would be here, once they have permission to strike here.” 

Logan frowned, not pleased with what I said. It took him a good twenty seconds before he nodded. “Well, you aren’t wrong. So, where should we go?” 

“Scotland.” 

He opened his mouth, closed it, and did it a few times before he said, “Why Scotland?” 

My fingers traced his beard-covered jawline. “I’m half Scottish,” I said. “Scottish-American. I have two passports. I have them here. I took them before we left. I have your IDs and all.” 

“H-how?”

“Always prepared for the worst,” I admitted sadly. “Kept them in a bag with some money and all,” I explained. “When Jean died, I made sure we were ready. I prepared an emergency bag that I kept in a hidden spot. That’s why I ran to the first escape door. The bag was under the floor.”

“My sweet angel,” he exhaled and leaned to me to press his lips on mine. “Always ready. But, no offence, you don’t sound Scottish. You don’t look Scottish,” he chuckled, and I rolled my eyes. “You never told me.” 

My eyes moved around the room, stopping at the creek of the sun coming in. “My father was Scottish. Mother was American. When they died, my mother’s sisters wanted to take me in. They were super religious. They thought they’d be able to cure my mutation with God’s mighty power,” I rolled my eyes. “Luckily, my grandma took me in. I lived with her until I was twenty. Then I decided to move back to the States.” 

Logan’s fingers brushed my hair. “Thank fucking god you did.” When I looked at him, he was smiling. “Otherwise I wouldn’t met you.” 

I climbed over him, putting all my weight on his body. He didn’t mind. Logan’s arms immediately wrapped around me. “We should head to Scotland,” I whispered. “It’s not Canada but my grandmother lives in a village, near the woods. It was magical then. It should be magical now, too.”

He raised a brow, watching me like a hawk. “How do you know she’s still alive?” 

My fingers brushed his nose. “Because I can feel her,” I said. “She’s a mutant too.”

“She is? What’s her mutation?” 

“Nature control,” I explained. “I’m not saying she’s the strongest, but she’s powerful enough to communicate with me through nature, all those miles away.” 

His lips found mine in a gentle kiss. “So we head to Scotland,” he whispered.

“Will you be able to get through the flight?”

His nose scrunched. “For you, I’ll do anything, baby. I’ll get on the fucking plane and suffer through it if it means to be with you.” 

Those words brought tears to my eyes. “I love you. Thank you.” 

. . .

Where are the mutants? It’s been ten years since Charles Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters was destroyed. Since then, no one has seen a mutant. Are they hiding? Are they extinct? More on that this afternoon, at four PM. 

I sighed. Another radio show about mutants. Great. Will they ever leave us at peace? I put my coffee mug down, my eyes locked on the kitchen window as I watched the rain heavily fall from the sky. I loved this dark, cold weather. Autumn in Scotland was magical. Yes, some hated the weather, but not me. I enjoyed it. 

Big hands wrapped around my midsection, pressing me as close to a firm stomach and chest as possible. I hummed, smiling. His scent made my knees weak even after all this time. His lips pressed a kiss to the top of my head. 

“How is my wife today?” Logan’s voice was low but soft. He smelled like rain, mud and oil. He just came back from work. At least he took off the wet clothes before he got all over me. 

Logan and I got married two years after we moved to Scotland. My grandmother died a year before that. I was lucky enough to spend some time with her before she passed. Oh, but she loved Logan. She always called him: my sweet boy. 

I put my hands over his, sighing. “I’m better now that you are here. There was another radio show about mutants,” I said. “How was work?” 

“Alan got stuck under a tree and broke his leg,” he said. “I helped him out and we got him to the nearest hospital. So, he’ll be out for about six to eight weights. Which means a bit more work but more money.” 

I turned around in his arms, eyes meeting his. “How much work? Will you be coming late to us?” 

Logan leaned closer and pressed his lips against mine. “Don’t worry, baby. Nothing drastic, maybe staying at work for an hour longer. And it’s not gonna happen every day. I wouldn’t want to be without you all longer than I need to.” 

Again, our lips met in a sweet kiss, then another until he pressed me against the kitchen counter. His big hand gripped my hips. He was hungry, I could feel it. Even his erection was evident. I wanted him. “Wait, where are the kids?” he pulled from the kiss. 

“In the barn,” I moaned when his lips left mine. I needed him. I put my hands on his chest. This was the perfect opportunity fuck in the kitchen while the kids were nowhere near the house. And hell, it’s been some time since we were intimate. I unbuttoned his flannel shirt. 

We had two kids. Charles, whom we called Charlie, was almost ten. My grandmother was able to see him as an infant before she passed away. She wasn’t happy that we had a child before marriage. But she was all giddy and happy for us once she saw the baby.

And then there was Emma Maria, after my grandmother and Rogue, our friend. She was eight. As far as we knew, Charlie’s mutation didn’t show up. It was only a matter of time before they blossomed. At least both of our children could enjoy childhood without being a threat to the world. 

Logan pulled on my lower lip. “Pretty baby is needy?” He hoisted me up on the kitchen counter, stepping between my legs. “I know, it’s been a while since I was inside you.” His hands stroke my thighs. One of them crawled crawled up my body and the other cupped my clothed sex. 

I closed my eyes, enjoying his touch until he kissed me gently and stepped away. “They are coming inside,” he sighed. Immediately, I whined. 

As I hopped off the kitchen counter, the back door opened, and our children entered the tiny hallway. We heard them undressing and talking to each other. Emma coughed. I frowned. I hoped she wasn’t getting sick. 

Logan leaned against the kitchen aisle, waiting for the kids as I jumped off the counter. Once Emma’s eyes noticed him, she smiled at him. “Hi, dad!” 

“Hey, princess,” he greeted her. He took her into his big arms once she was close, pressing a kiss on top of her head. “What you were doing in the barn?” 

“We have kittens!” she said excitedly. 

I raised a brow. “Oh? Since when?” I saw a stray cat a few times here. I didn’t know she was expecting babies. Well, at least we’ll have someone to catch mice around here. Also, it was beautiful news. I loved cats.

Charlie hugged his father. “They are a couple of days old,” he explained. “She had five of them.” 

“Five?” Logan sighed. I knew he wasn’t happy about it. Before he opened his mouth, I gave him a warning glare. 

“They are so cute and tiny,” Emma smiled. “We’ll keep them, right?” She glared at her father and then at me.

I nodded. “Of course, Em. They can stay in the barn. We have some old towels and clothes. I think I have a spare plastic container for water. We’ll give them a safe home and they’ll be with us.” 

“Baby,” Logan sighed. 

I raised a hand. I didn’t want to hear a word about it. When I found the container, I gave it to Emma. “You’ll bring them water. Charlie, find an old carton box in the garage. I’ll fetch you the towels. And listen,” I turned to him. “Put it into the box nicely and leave the box in a secure, warm space. Don’t put the kittens there. She’ll do it herself,” I explained. 

The moment both kids disappeared, Logan shook his head. “I don’t like this, baby.” 

“Let them have this,” I said. “We don’t have a dog. The cats will stay in the barn and outside. No one is taking them into the house, okay?” 

“Uh-huh,” he rolled his eyes. “Give it a day or two. Emma will sneak them in.” 

I grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him closer to me. “I have my ways of convincing you,” I purred. I pressed my lips to his in a searing kiss. “Just be a good daddy and let the kittens stay.” 

He shook his head, chuckling. Logan leaned closer, his lips to my ear. “I might need a little more convincing to keep the kittens. So, be prepared.” 

I pressed my lips to his cheek. “I love you, Logan.” 

He smiled at me. “Love you too, baby. And the kids, and this life.” 

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

the world (it burns through me)

Chapter 9: Freelancer

Ao3 | 5.8k Words | Freelancer’s POV

Freelancer’s last three Thanksgivings. Sunshine comes back to life. Caelum is traumatized. Gavin is no longer a prostitute. Darlin’ is also traumatized.

TW: discussions of child abuse, disordered eating habits, and sexual assault.

It was the week before your first Thanksgiving in medical school and you were standing in the morgue at Dahlia General hospital and watching a tall, handsome doctor cut into a corpse like it was an act of love. Dr. Brachium was a looker to put it mildly. You weren’t small by any means, but he hit six feet with ease. His lithe frame fell in his scrubs and drapings like his body was built specifically for medical gear to smother it. His hair was jet black and long enough he had to pin it back in a braid under his scrub cap. He was working with cadavers, not living patients, so he didn’t have to wear a mask. You preferred that, because it let you get a good look at his full lips as they quirked through soft smiles, crinkling his mono-lidded eyes handsomely as he explained how to remove and weigh the major organs as one performed an autopsy. 

This was the process, your instructors insisted. You started with theoretics, diagrams, textbooks, that sort of thing. Then, you moved on to other mammals. You dissected pigs and cats, noted that the variety that the living body was capable of made your diagrams and textbooks functionally useless for anything besides casual reference. You watched videos of surgery, practiced stitches on fruit and pig skin. Then, you watched autopsies. You watched handsome doctors like Brachium cut open mothers and brothers and daughters and struggled to find the energy to remember the person that used to inhabit the cadaver under your careful scrutiny.

Dr. Brachium spoke quietly, as though afraid to wake up the smattering of corpses laid out on tables in his pristine, freezing morgue. Eight odd students gathered around his table, just the dedicated bunch that had signed up for his late night lab slot instead of going home to their fucking families for the holidays. This was more important than a family dinner, you insisted to yourself, and your mother was far more satisfied with your performance at school than she would be with your lackluster stuffing. So, despite Lasko’s insistence that students in rigorous courses like yours did much better when they took adequate breaks, you were staying in Dahlia for your week off. He was a good advisor, and he understood a lot, but he didn’t understand this. He couldn’t. 

“That’s the last of it.” Dr. Brachium held his cadaver’s heart in his hands, still and blue. “If you look here, we can see that Mr. Swanson did indeed die of heart failure. See the pericardial fat surrounding his arteries? It was unfortunately only a matter of time. He would have been in considerable chest pain for a few weeks proceeding the cardiac arrest that eventually killed him. Should any of you become internal medicine doctors, please emphasize that your patients should always take chest pains seriously.” 

He placed the heart in the shining, metal scale, read the weight aloud for his record and carefully placed each organ inside a plastic biowaste bag, then the bag back inside the now empty body cavity. 

“If you’re on the surgical path, you’d be doing a lot of this. When you’re working with live patients, you’ll take the time to carefully arrange the organs. The body knows where they should go and will make any minor adjustments that need to be made, but the healing process can be hindered if you just… throw things in there.” He crinkled up his nose like it was a cute joke. You couldn’t help the smile that snuck onto your lips. 

The swinging double doors to the morgue opened as two doctors in white coats and light green scrubs pushed in a gurney. The small frame strapped down on it was covered in a white sheet, the kind that was meant to be waterproof but held on to blood anyway. It was dotted with red like a Halloween decoration. 

The interns ignored the eight of you and instead turned to Dr. Brachium, handing him a chart as they stripped down the trauma gloves they had been wearing. This one must have been fresh out of the trauma bay. Finally, something more interesting than a morbid heart disease. You might actually get to practice some trauma medicine before they put this one on ice. 

Brachium thanked the interns by name, something that made you feel strangely fond, and sent them back up to the emergency room. He read the chart carefully, shaking his head, a pinch of pity between his full brows. 

“That’s a shame.” He tutted. “A car accident. And so young…” he looked genuinely grieved as he handed the chart to the student closest to him, another surgical hopeful named Kody you’d had a few classes with. Kody read the chart ravenously, his eyes wide, his face breaking out into a grin. You didn’t know how Dr. Brachium managed to grieve over every body in his morgue, but your stomach flipped when you realized you felt closer to Kody’s blind giddiness at the body’s learning potential. The two of you had a similar hunger. 

Brachium pulled the sheet back, revealing a charming baby face and styled pixie cut, hair meant to stick up in this place and that very intentionally. Instead, carved bangs were matted to the corpse’s forehead with dried, blackened blood. There was a large cut across their forehead, and when you leaned in closer to get a better look, you realized it was actually a skull fracture. You starred for so long you thought you could see their pinkish, shivering brain matter. 

That was impossible, of course. Once the brain stopped functioning it changed color, from healthy pink and gray to blueish-green. You were seeing things. 

Brachium cut away their torn clothes, revealing a sizable laceration in their stomach. He prodded around it with his gloved hands, noting the organ damage and oozing, dark blood that sprouted from the cuts in their liver. 

“This was a catastrophic crash.” Brachium shook his head. One hand landed on the corpse’s head stroking the stray hair out of their closed eyes. “Oh, little one. We don’t even know your name.” 

“How does that work?” You asked. That wasn’t actually going to be part of your job, identifying corpses, but you felt compelled to ask anyway. You felt suddenly self conscious as Brachium’s attention shifted to you. “Like… how do we figure it out? When there’s a body with no ID, I mean.” 

“There are a few ways.” Brachium nodded. He considered you for a moment before his face softened and he continued. “The police are likely still clearing the scene, and since they were driving, there is most probably a driver’s license somewhere in the vehicle. This laceration-” he waved his hand over the cut, “-was caused by the driver’s side door of the car. Look here, at the particles left in the skin.” You leaned in close, your face inches from their still-warm body. 

“Their car was blue.” You found yourself murmuring. Brachium nodded. 

“They would have had to be cut out. The car is a mess, so it might take a while to find everything we need from it. If that fails, then we move on to fingerprints, then dental records. Most people are identifiable. Most people have people who are looking for them. It is very rare for bodies to go unclaimed.” 

“Can we…” Kody gestured towards the corpse, seeming impatient with his arms crossed. Brachium broke his concentration on you and turned towards your classmate. 

“The dead are in no rush, friend.” He said softly. “We have time for any questions anybody has.” 

Your mouth clicked shut and you leaned back, embarrassment burning across your cheeks. Brachium watched, his face closing off, as you pulled away. 

You watched intently, silently, as Dr. Brachium prepared the body for the autopsy. He straightened out the gangly limbs, arranged its broken form into something resembling order, and muttered quietly as he brushed dried blood and debris from its face. Kody stepped up to stand next to you, and everytime Brachium made a soft comment, called the corpse a sweet name, said something as though to comfort it, Kody snickered softly, under his breath, where only the two of you could hear. 

You watched, your eyes on their oozing wounds, waiting for the blood flow to stop. Eventually, the pressure in the chest cavity would let up and the blood would stop. Eventually… 

You moved back around the table, towards the head. You bent at your middle, crinkling the trauma gown that had been draped over your street clothes. Your sneakers squeaked over the tile floor. You bent down and inspected the skull fracture again. By this time, the brain should have gone necrotic. You wanted to see it for yourself. 

The exposed section of their brain shone up at you under the bright, morgue lights, still pink, still twitching. 

“Wait!” You cried, as Brachium raised his scalpel to cut into their chest. Every pair of eyes in the room snapped to you. You froze suddenly under the attention, your body going cold. If you were wrong, this was going to be so fucking embarrassing. If you were right, though…

“What is it?” Brachium set his scalpel down and circled the table to stand next to you. You raised a shaking, gloved finger to the skull fracture. 

“Their brain…” you breathed, afraid that if you broke the silence that had fallen over the room, whatever life was left in them would slip away. Brachium gasped, bent closer, and then reared back. He reached blindly for the controls under the table and lowered it quickly. 

“Compressions.” He told you sternly as he stripped his gloves off and reached for two new pairs. “You-” he waved to one of your classmates, Elena, you thought, “-that big button on the wall, press it. And you-” he pointed to Kody as he slipped his new gloves on, “-just outside the door there’s a crash cart. Bring it in now.” 

“What’s happening?” Another classmate called from the back of the group. 

“They’re alive.” Brachium said. The morgue descended into chaos. 

It took fifteen minutes for more doctors to arrive, even as the Code Blue blared around the echoing space. Whoever was in charge of the alarm system turned it off at one point. Brachium had looked up, panic flashing over his eyes and ordered Elena to hit the alarm again. 

You knew how to give chest compressions. You’d been certified since you were in high school, when you’d taken every medical-adjacent course your school had to offer. It felt different on a body than it had on the dummy they gave you to practice on. You felt the corpse’s- the patient’s- ribs crack and give under your relentless movements. You watched out of the corner of your eye as Dr. Brachium intubated, slid a tude down their throat. Their hand, which had laid limp and lifeless on the slab a few minutes before, trailed up to grab at his wrist. He took it in his own and held it as he pumped the blue AMBU bag, breathing for them, in the other. 

“How does this happen?” Kody asked after retrieving the crash cart. He attached the sensors to the portable heart monitor around your hands. “Aren’t they supposed to check things like this before they even get to the ER?”

“Yes.” Brachium muttered, still whispering sweet encouragement to the patient as he worked. “They are.” 

Eventually, interns arrived, walking casually, seeming to think that this was a false alarm. You couldn’t imagine that the morgue called codes all that often, so you could hardly blame them for assuming it was an accident. As soon as they saw you and your shaking, spent arms pounding into your patient, they sprung into action. 

“Why didn’t they receive a head CT?” Brachium snapped, his voice turning sour and harsh for the first time since you’d met him a few hours ago. The two interns that had brought your patient down in the first place went pale and shared an alarmed look. 

“The paramedics said-” one started, but Dr. Brachium cut them off as somebody took over the AMBU bag for him. Somebody else pushed you out of the way and continued your compressions with renewed force. You stumbled back, a hand wrapping around your back to support you. When you looked up, Kody smiled softly and waited for you to catch your footing. 

“I don’t care what the paramedics say!” Brachium snapped. “When you receive a patient in the ER, you run the necessary checks before bringing them to me. You never take other people’s word for it when you’re dealing with someone’s life! The minutes we wasted here could have caused irreparable damage. And it’s your names- your licenses- at the bottom of their chart. Remember that next time, if you get a next time.” 

The patient was whisked away. Brachium addressed the room quickly, dismissing the lab for the evening and offering to reschedule before the end of the semester. You tugged off the trauma gown and gloves you’d been sweating into for the last few hours. Your arms were like jelly. 

“Not you,” Brachium caught your attention before you could slip out of the building. “Stay back with me for a moment, alright my friend?” 

You nodded, sparing Kody one last glance as he tutted and turned away.

Dr. Brachium was even more of a looker when not smothered by medical dressings. His shoulders and biceps filled out his scrubs wonderfully, tapering off to a thin waist and strong legs. He pulled off his scrub cap, letting down his braid and running his fingers through his long, straight hair.

“You were an incredibly capable medical professional tonight. More so than every paramedic and doctor that put their eyes on that patient and chose not to do everything they could to ensure they were actually dead before giving up. Including me.” He ran a hand over his face, once soft and handsome and now lined with exhaustion and shame. “I beg you to stay in the field.” 

“Why didn’t the paramedics check their brain activity?” You asked softly. “Ambulances in California are required to carry EEG’s.” Brachium let out a puff of air that you thought was meant to be a laugh. 

“Ambulances funded by the state are, yes.” He nodded. “But there are private companies that run ambulance services that they contract out to the state at a fraction of the price. They have less oversight on that sort of thing and discretion to hire who they like. I imagine this was caused by a series of oversights and failures throughout the night. I only hope it doesn’t cost them brain function. That long without oxygen…” 

“I should have said something sooner.” You muttered. “I thought it was strange that they were still bleeding. And I thought I was seeing things when I saw their brain matter the first time.” 

“You’re a medical student.” Brachium said softly. “And you were functioning under the belief that the professionals around you had already confirmed within reasonable doubt that they were dead. I’ve been practicing for ten years and I didn’t notice. Please do not blame yourself for this. You saved their life.” 

You nodded even as your guts twisted up with guilt. 

You were glad that Dr. Brachium didn’t make you leave. You thought you’d be eaten alive if you didn’t get to see them again. You wanted to know their name. You wanted to know if they remembered it. 

The cops had found their license half an hour ago. They’d already told their emergency contact where he could go to claim the body. Brachium called, explained shortly that they were in fact not dead, and that he would be waiting to explain all of it when he got to the hospital.

Dr. Brachium waited with you in the lobby for him to arrive. 

You knew it was him the moment he walked in. He’d been crying for a considerable amount of time, and he was trailed by a taller man who must have driven him. You couldn’t imagine anybody who loved this man would let him drive in this state. He looked wildly around the lobby, as though he would find them here. 

“Elliott?” Brachium called. His head swiveled and he seemed to nearly collapse when he put his eyes on Brachium. 

“Please tell me what the fuck is going on.” He cried. The man with him wrapped an arm around his shoulders to steady him. 

“They’re alive, Elliott.” Brachium met them where they stood, took both of Elliott’s hands in his own. “They’re in surgery, and we won’t know more until they’re out, but they are alive.” 

Elliott did collapse then, right into Brachium and the other man’s waiting arms. 

Brachium explained everything in one of the sectioned off family rooms where they told people their loved ones were dead. He had tracked down the ambulance report while you two had waited, the names of the paramedics, the names of the interns that had called it and delivered them to him, the information of every person who had looked at them since the crash for litigation purposes. He implied strongly that Elliott should sue every person on that list for medical malpractice. That list included him, of course. 

“The only reason they’re alive right now is because of this student.” You introduced yourself stiffly, shaking Elliott’s hands awkwardly. “They were attending a lab in my morgue and noticed signs of life. If it weren’t for them, I would have overlooked them as well.” 

“They weren’t breathing?” Elliott said softly. “And their heart, it wasn’t beating?” 

“No.” Brachium shook his head. “They noticed…” he trailed off, unsure of how to put the fact that you’d seen living brain matter through the hole in their head without knocking Elliott out again. 

“I noticed brain activity.” You said simply. Elliott screwed up his brow, but eventually just shook his head. He grabbed awkwardly for your hand, his still shaking, and held it firmly. 

“Thank you.” He whispered. “Thank you.” 

You left the hospital in the early hours of the morning. It was freezing, and your measly jacket didn’t do much to protect you. You shivered as you made your way across the parking lot and to the bus stop. It was a long ride home. You wondered if Gavin was free. For the first time in months, you didn’t feel bone fucking tired. You could use a distraction, whether that had anything to do with his noble profession or not. 

Something heavy and warm settled over your shoulders. You gasped and turned around, coming face to face with Kody. He’d wrapped you in his jacket, and all you could smell was the fresh, clean scent of his cologne. He smiled, his teeth long and straight, and considered you for a heavy moment before he spoke. 

“That was good work back there.” He said, his voice low and smooth. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t all that threatened by you until tonight.” 

“Oh yeah?” You replied. He crowded into your personal space, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans to fight the cold. 

“Yeah.” He nodded. His eyes had a glint to them you couldn’t place. “Come on, I'll drive you home.” 

___

Kody raped you during the first rainstorm of the following April. 

___

“What if he doesn’t like me?” Gavin said softly, straightening his sweater for the fifth time in just as many minutes. He had deep cleaned your shared apartment over the course of the last two days, gotten rid of the vast majority of his decorations (most of them were some level of explicit), and went out and bought some clothes that actually covered any amount of his skin. He looked so strange, all dressed up and wholesome in his Mr. Rogers get-up. You straightened the crisp collar of the button down under his sweater and smoothed your hand over his chest. 

“He’s gonna love you.” You said softly. “You said he was very friendly over the phone, right? It’s all gonna be fine.” 

It was the week before your last Thanksgiving in medical school, although you didn’t know that just yet, and Gavin had found out that he had a half brother two days ago. He was five-years-old and they shared a deadbeat father who refused to take custody when the poor kid’s mother finally succumbed to the cancer that had been eating her alive since just after Caelum was born. She had raised him alone. She had died at home and nobody knew until a truancy officer came to investigate why the kid had missed a week of school with no call from home. 

Caelum had lived in his mother’s house, still caring for her corpse, for a week. 

“God, he’s gonna be fucked up.” Gavin rubbed his hands over his face. “Like… traumatized. In what world am I qualified to take care of any child, let alone a traumatized one? I’m a fucking prostitute.” 

“You are not a prostitute.” You laughed. “Anymore, at least. You’re a porn star. Much more respectable.” 

“Oh right,” Gavin rolled his eyes, but it made him laugh, so you considered it a win. 

“Deep breaths.” You ordered. He obeyed, eyes closed, leaning into you. There was a knock at the apartment door. 

Caelum was a… weird child. He was sweet, that much was for certain, but he had about him a distant, subdued quality that made it seem like he was somewhere else entirely. The social worker made quick work of your introductions and bolted for the door like the place was on fire. She had a stack of manilla folders just like Caelum’s tucked under one arm. She didn’t even bother to check on all of the safety measures that the two of you had agonized over since finding out Caelum was coming. She must have done a thousand of these already today, and had a thousand more to go.

“So…” Gavin rocked on his feet, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “What do you want to do, buddy?” Caelum considered this for a long moment, his eyes glazed and distant. 

“Um… I like sweet stuff.” He said, his voice quiet. Gavin’s eyes snapped up to you, panic in his features. You hadn’t thought to go buy any kid-friendly foods. All you had in the fridge was a smattering of leftovers and some of the weird probiotics Damien kept trying to get you two to take. 

“We should go get some!” You smiled, crouching down in front of him. You’d read in some article or another that it put kids at ease when you went down to their level. Caelum didn’t seem to mind either way. “How does that sound?” Caelum nodded dreamily, wringing his little hands together. 

“Great, let’s get our coats.” Gavin snagged both of yours and then turned to Caelum. “Is yours in your bag?” He gestured to the black trash bag Caelum had brought all of his worldly possessions in. You looked down at it, mostly empty, and felt your stomach flip. Where were all of his toys? His clothes? The shoes he’d outgrow in a month’s time? 

“Don’t got one.” He said softly. He didn’t look particularly upset by it, just shrugged his little shoulders in what looked suspiciously like defeat. Gavin stalled, his eyes wide but not surprised. You remembered, all of a sudden, that Gav had spent his fair share of time in the foster system. He had felt all of the things that Caelum was feeling in this moment. 

The only difference was that somebody wanted Caelum. Somebody was coming along to save him before he had to fend for himself. Nobody had done that, been that for Gavin. He was qualified to take care of this kid. He was probably the most qualified person on Earth. 

Gavin ended up wrapping Caelum in one of his coats, fur lined and cropped and considerably less practical when a grown man was wearing it. You rolled the sleeves up around his tiny arms and stuffed his chubby toddler hands into a spare pair of mittens. He looked a bit silly, bundled up in grown-up clothes. 

Your trip for sweets turned into a trip for sweets, clothes, toys, and books. As it turned out, Caelum had brought essentially nothing with him from the foster home that had held him until Gavin’s paperwork could go through. All he had was a spare pair of clothes, a bar of soap, a tooth brush, and one item from his mother’s house; a threadbare, stuffed rabbit with button eyes. It looked so old that it must have been her’s when she was a child. 

Caelum rode in the shopping cart as you walked Target’s aisles. Every item that his glassy eyes lingered on, Gavin snagged without question. By the end of your trip, you’d had to run back to the front of the store for a second cart and the total was four digits, but Gavin didn’t bat an eye. 

It was the week before your last Thanksgiving in medical school, and you finished out your day sitting cross legged on the floor of Caelum’s new bedroom working on a lab report while Gavin stuck glow-in-the-dark stars to his walls and ceiling. After stuffing him full of pizza and ice cream, Caelum had crashed hard. As you managed to coax him into a pair of his new pajamas before he was completely dead to the world, he sleepily asked if you two could stay with him while he slept. 

You indulged him. You thought you’d likely never stop indulging him. 

“We’ve gotta get a turkey.” Gavin said softly, hushed, trying not to wake him. You looked up from your screen, temples pounding. “And figure out how to make… I don’t know… stuffing? Casserole? What do you eat on Thanksgiving?” You considered it for a long moment. Your brain was so fucking scrambled from the fifteen assignments you still had due that you couldn’t conjure up a single Thanksgiving dish in your memory. 

“We’ll ask Damien.” You said, resolutely. “He knows about that kind of stuff.” 

“I’m gonna give him a good Thanksgiving.” Gavin said. He sounded so sure. “Christmas too. I don’t know what I can do for him but… I can do that.” 

You nodded, the weight of it sitting heavy in your stomach. Whatever you two were yesterday, today you were this kid’s first and last line of defense. His world had fallen apart around him over the last few years and now it was up to you two to build a new one. You didn’t know if you were capable, if you were qualified. You thought that you’d likely never know for sure. All you knew was that Caelum was here and that he needed someone. You could be someone for him. You could do that. 

___

Damien found you on the floor of your kitchen, unconscious at the end of finals week in May. He called an ambulance. You were dehydrated and malnourished. Gavin had been telling you for weeks that you needed rest. You had ignored him. 

If nothing else, this was a wonderful opportunity to watch Dahlia Gen’s state-of-the-art equipment and staff work. Dr. Brachium paid you a visit when you stayed overnight for observation.

“This isn’t sustainable for you.” He said, glancing over your chart. It had been a year since you’d last seen him. A baker’s dozen medical journals had included articles about the cadaver that came back to life in his morgue that night. He still remembered your name and theirs. 

“I don’t know how else to do it.” You said softly. You were so tired. You struggled to keep your eyes on him. 

“Then maybe you shouldn’t.” 

That sent a bolt of cold dread down your spine. 

“You’re the one who begged me to stay in the field.” You sneered. You were being hateful. You had nothing else in you to be. 

“You still can.” He cocked his head. “I think you’d make an excellent nurse or paramedic. Honestly, you’d make a great surgeon too. But if you can’t take care of yourself during med school, you won’t survive your residency.” 

“I can handle it.” You said. 

“But how much of you will be left once you’re done?” 

You didn’t have an answer for that question. 

In the early hours of the morning with Damien in the waiting room and Dr. Brachium at your bedside, you mourned your non-existent surgical career. 

“I would have been good though, huh?” You asked through quiet tears. 

“Yes.” Brachium nodded. “You would have been extraordinary.” 

___

It was the week before your first Thanksgiving at the 10-19, and you were on the way out of the door when you heard quiet, panicked voices coming from the ambulance bay.

Gavin and Caelum were at home waiting. You’d already stayed later than you intended to chatting with Asher. It would be easy to exit out of the front door instead of the back, walk around the building, and make a clean getaway to the bus stop down the street. 

Somebody gasped, another voice cursed, just on the edge of shouting. Your body froze right as you were about to retreat. 

That was your problem, you thought. You just couldn’t say ‘no’ when somebody was in need. You found signs of life. You took in kids whose fathers didn’t want them. You investigated sounds of injury and panic when you heard them at the end of a long fucking shift. You thought about Brachium’s question in that lonely room in Dahlia Gen. You’d never get ahold of all of the pieces of yourself. You were too eager to give them away. 

David and Sam were crowded around a gurney in Engine Two like they had been on the night that you’d first met Tanker. As you rounded the corner, you were struck with deja vu. They were laid out again, bruised and battered, and their eyes were distant and hazy. You were reminded of Caelum’s little five-year-old face, slack with shock and trauma. The little medical student that lived in your head started diagnosing as you took it all in. 

Bruising to both cheeks. Abrasions to the knuckles on the right hand. Unfocused eyes- head trauma or shock? Wasn’t that the one-million dollar question? 

It was a fight. Another one. You couldn’t think of another explanation. 

Tanker seemed to get into a lot of those, at least more than you’d consider a normal amount. 

“Hey,” you said softly. Sam and David both jumped, turning to face you with twin expressions of horror. 

The house was so defensive of Tank. If there was any chance they might be made vulnerable, the whole of the old guard of the 10-19 gathered up around them like a suit of armor. Somehow, Sam had become part of that armor, even though he was a newcomer too. It was moments like these that made you feel the most like an outsider. 

“Hey,” Sam replied, his face locking down. He was panicking. You could see it carved across his features. His tremor was worse than usual, and the pen light he had clutched in his hand was clinking against the metal frame of the gurney. David’s face was so red you thought his head would explode. 

“So um… want me to take a look? You two seem a little shaken up.” You said. You dropped your bag outside the ambulance and hiked up inside, pushing past Sam to get a look at Tank. “Hey, buddy.” You said to them. 

“Hey.” They replied. They seemed to be a million miles away. 

“It’s alright, Probie, I got it.” Sam tried to grab your arm, but his shake was bad enough that he couldn’t get a good enough hold. 

“You don’t.” You turned, taking the penlight from his hand. “Look, I get it. You guys can like… stand and watch or whatever. But you’re freaked out. Both of you. You can’t take care of them properly right now, so I will.” 

David cursed. Sam sat heavily on the bench. 

“Is that okay with you, Tank?” You asked, moving your hair out of the way and reaching for some gloves over their head. 

“Yeah.” They replied simply. “Doesn’t um… it doesn’t matter.” 

You bit your lip on the objections that you had building up inside of you. Of course it mattered. Of course you would listen. Of course if they said no, you would respect it. It had taken you long enough to learn that lesson yourself. That most people, people who weren’t fucking assholes, would listen when you said no. 

“Okay.” You nodded. Wounded animal mode it was. You would telegraph your movements, narrate, ask permission as much and as often as you needed to, as you could. “I want to check for a head wound first. We’ll go from there.” 

Over the course of the next twenty minutes or so, you carefully broke down what happened through the bruises on Tank’s body alone. They didn’t have to say anything at all, explain a moment of it. It was there, carved into their skin, laid out simply for you. They hit him, his high cheekbones splitting the skin over their knuckles. He hit them, right over where they’d broken their ribs. It had gone back and forth like that, brutal hit after brutal hit. There was blood dried over their right hand, but you couldn’t tell from where. It must not have been their own. 

“Not bad.” You said softly. “Lots of bruises, but no breaks that I can feel. I don’t think you have a concussion but I want to check again when you’re not in shock and you can describe your symptoms better.” 

They stared up at you. Their dark eyes reminded you of a shark, cold and deadly. 

“Thank you.” David said as you disposed of your gloves and stepped out of the bus, leaving them alone with Sam for a moment. 

“You need to be gentle with them.” You said, surprising yourself. It wasn’t often you gave orders to men like David Shaw, and your heart beat with the anxiety of it. You persisted anyway. He walked you to the back door, quiet, listening. “They’ve gone through something horrible. I don’t know what but…” you huffed, adjusted your jacket and your bag on your shoulder, “It took me weeks to say anything to anyone when my something horrible happened. So don’t push them, and when they tell you, listen.” 

David was quiet for a long moment, his face somewhere between concerned and pissed the fuck off. You liked the cut of it on his handsome features. 

“Okay.” He said, and that was it. 

It was the week before your first Thanksgiving with the 10-19, and you were sitting on the frozen bench at a bus stop, tapping furiously through the group chat and trying to organize a time for Friendsgiving. You’d be home and warm and safe in twenty minutes’ time. You had the strangest feeling that somebody was watching you.  

[musepondersthings]

Still holding out hope Gojo comes home

[valleydoli]

𐙚 Ao3 Fics I’ve read and love 𐙚

𐙚 infidelity by @tawus (completed)

gojo x fem reader

Your marriage to Gojo Satoru lost its initial excitement, since your husband spent all his time either at Jujutsu Tech or on exorcism missions across the world. To ease your loneliness, you picked up your favorite pastime from your student years — clubbing — behind his back. Too bad that on Satoru’s most recent mission he spots his wife dancing in a nightclub with a bunch of guys in the skimpiest dress he has ever seen on her…

𐙚 desert rose by @sadistic-kiss (on going)

all jjk men x fem reader 😭

Toji Fushiguro finds you during one of his hitman jobs. With no idea what to do with you he decides to bring you home to his house of misfits. They weren’t picture perfect but neither were you.

𐙚 mascara by @/softstellars (on going)

geto x fem reader

You've never been a particularly good person, you're self-aware enough to know it. It's your only flaw, and recently you've actually been working to better yourself. For example: paying for a 30-dollar Uber so you can take your friend home only for her to ditch you for some guy when it comes down to it. Although you’re pissed, you decide to try and make the best of it instead of get into a screaming match with her. It's an easy thing to do when Getou Suguru is offering you everything to do just that. Everything a party entails: liquor, weed, and sex with a perfect stranger. And Getou knows perfectly well you have a boyfriend, so it's not like he'll want anything serious.

𐙚 a pearl by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

The Fushiguros needed a nanny, and the pay was too good to not apply, especially since your family needed financial help. You were the perfect nanny for the kids, they loved you as if you were their own mother. Slowly, you built up the perfect relationship with the family. Especially with Mr. Fushiguro. A man who would constantly visit you after dark. A man who you thought had sincere intentions but at the end of the day didn't care about you. A selfish man who just saw you as a tool to make his wife mad. A man who didn't care about you but didn't want you with anyone else. A man that took away your ability to know what a healthy relationship was. You couldn't speak up about it since all the fault would fall at your feet and would be deemed as the "homewrecker".

𐙚 you, my angel and my saint by @lemonlover1110 (completed and posted on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

sequel to a pearl!

After having an affair with your boss, you're left to deal with the consequences, those being: two exhausting new jobs and a child. A child that he never got to know the existence of. Now all you had to do was keep her hidden, which should be an easy task, right?

𐙚 rings by @/bungeemum (on going)

toji x fem reader

you divorced the man in front of you for a reason. so why was he standing on your doorstep, guilt plastered on his face, and eyes glinting with hope?

𐙚 a dangerous game by @/anaoyuo (completed)

gojo x fem reader

geto x fem reader

Both men agreed to a game about who fucks you first, but they didn't play their cards right. Gojo and Geto changed the course of the game when they decided to keep you around for way longer than intended, making you fall for their sweet way to deprave you, and now you have to face the consequences in a gamble that they call their life.

𐙚 fate’s gamble by @/anaoyuo (on going)

gojo x fem reader

geto x fem reader

sequel to a dangerous game

缘分— a story about predestined affinity, set in a world where the intoxicating thrills of wealth intertwine with amorality.

𐙚 him & i by @pharixden (on going)

gojo x fem reader

toji x fem reader

sukuna x fem reader

A cheating husband, a widowed bodyguard and a malevolent fling of the past who owes a favour isn’t a combination for the faint of heart, but not every girl is a damsel in distress.

𐙚 changes by @lemonlover1110 (on going also on tumblr!)

gojo x fem reader

From childhood friends to lovers to mere strangers. Your love story with Satoru Gojo was one from a fairy tail, until it wasn't. When you were twenty-one, Satoru left you without an explanation. Five years later, you meet again but nothing is quite the same. Too many things need to be explained, especially the fact that there's another Gojo that Satoru has yet to meet.

𐙚 the man in apartment 381 by @lemonlover1110 (completed also on tumblr!)

toji x fem reader

Looking for a new beginning after the death of your husband, you move away from town. That's when you meet him, Toji Fushiguro, a widower with a three-year-old son. You two understand each other, which draws you close. Except you two don't realize that feelings would eventually develop, and neither of you want that. Feelings are the last thing you two want after finding out the great damage that they can cause. When you two discover this, it's too late.

𐙚 4th avenue viewing by @/softstellars (completed)

nanami x fem reader

Nanami Kento is intelligent, serious, reserved and can easily catch someone in a lie. It's his job to do just that, he's renowned for it. So when he comes to your university to offer up an internship, it's quite the opportunity. Anyone would jump at the chance, except for you. But no, you just had to be the one caught in a lie.

𐙚 forgotten souls by @/killerpoultry & @/bebobopobo (completed)

sukuna x fem reader

You and Sukuna have been married for years. Even though he is brash, mean, and sadistic, you love him more than anything. While he may not show it much, he truly loves you too. One day you get into a terrible car accident and lose all your memories. You learn to live once more while Sukuna must now get you to fall in love with him all over again.

𐙚 love kills by @/sourome (on going)

i actually don’t know 😭 i think toji x fem reader

The wealthy and successful Zenin family, well respected and seemingly perfect. But all that glitters is not gold. Toji Zenin, CEO and face of the Zenin Group acts like a gentleman but is a vile creature that has ruined many lives, such as yours. That married man dared to play with your mother’s heart many years ago, destroying her sanity and her life and ultimately killing her. Now years later and being all grown up you decide to seek revenge, he deserves to suffer that same destiny and die of love. With the help of a few friends you plan to become a part of his life and his every thought but you didn't take into account his son, that man had the potential to turn your plans upside down.

𐙚 the black swan by @uselesslydamaged (completed)

sukuna x fem reader

Loving someone is easy, but experiencing it is harder.

𐙚 bodyguard by @/succybuss (on going)

toji x fem reader

Your Grandfather, a man involved in unsavory businesses that has taken you under his wing, has informed you that you will be under the care of a full-time Bodyguard. Unhappy with your grandfather's decision, you decide to go out for a night of drinking for your last night of freedom. There, you encounter a man you planned on taking home, but life had other plans in store for you...

𐙚 violet lights by @septembersummer (completed)

gojo x fem reader

In which you're at a party that you should've skipped when you capture the attention of a boy who looks like an angel and grins like the devil. He looks beautiful in the neon lights, and maybe you just want to make your ex-boyfriend jealous, but trouble with a tongue ring does sound like fun, just for tonight. What's the worst that could happen, you know?

𐙚 starboy by @septembersummer (completed)

gojo x fem reader

sequel to violet lights

After your ex-boyfriend gets arrested on national television, you find yourself realizing that you really didn’t know much at all about Gojo Satoru. Well, he’s better known in the Yakuza as The Six Eyes, not that he ever told you that.

𐙚 sweet little lies by @/mooglepaws (on going)

toji x fem reader

Megumi Fushiguro is the perfect Fiancé. Caring, loyal, successful, devastatingly handsome and crazy in love with you. So how and why do you end up fucking his Dad? As your wedding looms and the consequences of your affair unfold, you have to make a choice between the Fushiguro men.

This is a Toji x Reader x Megumi but the smut is almost exclusively Toji x Reader focusing on their affair.

𐙚 the twist of a knife by @darkcat23 (on going)

gojo x fem reader

This world is dull, colourless in your eyes. You are just trying to keep going with your life, not bothering anyone, trying to support your mother and yourself. So what happens when you agree to help your ex one night? And what if you catch the attention of a certain white haired assassin? And he shows you just how colourful this world truly is. or, a story of a girl with a violent mind and a boy with violent tendencies, finding each other, intertwining, and feeding off one another. perhaps it is fate that has brought them together. or perhaps it's something more sinister, something more cold.

𐙚 untameable waves by @/circedemedici

(unknown i guess hopefully i can let you know)

has been taken down i dont know if it’ll come back but if it does i’ll link it! but i’m leaving it here because it was most definitely my favourite :(

please let me know any other fics you’ve read because i love reading fics with a LOT of plot and also let me know if you end up reading any and you enjoy them as much as i did! :3

i think i used every tag known to man LOL 𐙚

[pomefioredove]

housewardens + Jamil and Floyd with a reader that plays volleyball please

I think of reader as yuu, but it's not needed to be specified, and NRC doesn't really have volleyball as one of the sports that I know of. so whether it's not a thing in their world or just not at their school, I think it'd be cool to see how the characters react to the reader playing during gym, free time, or for some outside of school club or whatever. it'd be amazing if reader could be a libero, because that's my position, but it doesn't have to be specified

but like, js imagine reader is yuu and so they taught one of the students how to play bc it's not at NRC amd now they play literally whenever they can

I don't know anything about volleyball but I tried 🫡🫡

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ volleyball player reader

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, floyd, jamil, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

am I crazy to think that Riddle would be into it? seeing as he's somewhat of an athlete himself (equestrian club), he knows the sort of discipline and dedication it takes to truly master a sport

he'll offer to help you organize an ~official~ club, but you don't seem too bothered about it. he finds it endearing that you can wake up in an entirely different world, almost die every other month, and still have the motivation to pursue what you love, anyway

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you'd better be careful around Leona, or you'll end up at morning Spelldrive practice in his place (hehe)

so, you don't have any magic. and? you know how to throw and catch, and that's good enough for him. hell, you're better than most of the magical first years. plus, you're motivated, you're responsible, and Leona Savanaclaw could use someone like you around

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

when Azul sent the tweels to dig up some dirt on you, he wasn't expecting this. like, okay, he underestimated you. he was hoping for something more... exploitable. if only he had a use for volleyball...

oh, well. you're still worth watching, currently useful or not. athletic skill is nothing to sneeze at, especially from a native land-dweller. he might need those legs of yours someday, you know

...wait, that came out wrong

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

no one really bothers looking for Floyd when he doesn't show up to basketball club. not because they don't care, but because it's not worth the time. if he really doesn't want to be found, you just won't find him

of course, the one day Jamil has to leave club early, he walks in on the two of you in the courtyard, playing volleyball

all this time, Floyd had been skipping club to watch you play another ball game just a few minutes away. he's absolutely captivated, too. like a cat with a laser pointer

as unamused as he is, Jamil knows it's absolutely useless to lecture him, so he just... sits and watches you play, too

and, well... he gets it. you're an interesting person, you know?

after that, he figures you may as well join the basketball club

...if only to give you a better place to practice, and to keep Floyd indoors

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

bro if you asked, Kalim would have an entire court built for you. actually, you wouldn't even have to ask. just one mention about how NRC has no volleyball club, and he'd have a team just for you by noon

if you refuse, he's still supportive. and really, really fascinated. he's not as much of an athlete as you or Jamil, which just makes it all the more impressive to him. he'll ask you to explain the game and your position over and over again, even while watching you play

he also just likes hearing your voice, so :)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

if there's anything Vil can admire, it's dedication. another thing? passion. being an athlete, or, really, having any serious hobby, demands both of those things

here's the thing; he could already tell. he didn't have to stumble across you during practice (as if he would stumble at all smh). your form, the way you carry yourself, even parts of your personality were context enough

and while he may not say it, he holds a high opinion of you. you can legit get out of VDC training by just saying you're going to practice

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you may think that Idia isn't going to go for the jock type, but, actually, one of his favorite animes is about volleyball and-

yeah, yeah. you get it. he's smitten

if he ever gets over his crushing fear of talking to you, you'll never get him to shut up. seriously. he already knows everything there is to know about the game, but that doesn't mean he's not going to ask you to explain everything all over again (he's totally fangirling over this). and sevens forbid you give him a demonstration...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

there's probably not volleyball in Briar Valley. right. I just can't picture that. so the first time Malleus observes you in practice, he's amazed, fascinated even. and he has a lot of questions. good ones!

you could probably convince him to play with you, which would be, uh. interesting? actually he's weirdly an amazing player

you could get all of Diasomnia to form a team, somehow. like I know they'd be abnormally good at it

[another-lost-mc]

When MC Needs Surgery

Featuring: The Demon Brothers, the Dateables (most briefly/vaguely mentioned) + gn!Reader

Content/Warnings: Mentions of unspecified health problems, surgical procedures and medical devices. Relationships with the cast are intended to be platonic but may be interpreted as romantic in nature (friendship was the focus here rather than romance). Word count: 3.2k.

A/N: This is dedicated to surgery!anon who requested something for their upcoming surgery. Based on the vague details mentioned to me, I assumed there might be some overlap with my own experiences which is what this is loosely based on. I guess I wrote what I would've liked to have read before my own procedures. I hope this provides some comfort to you as well.

PRE-OP

Some of the demons might wonder why they can't just find some spell to fix what's wrong with you, because how tricky can human anatomy really be? But after Satan does some research and helps you explain to the others (in easy to understand terms while being sensitive of the private details you might not want to share), they realize that perhaps your medical care is best left to the professionals after all.

Lucifer, Diavolo and Barbatos handle the logistics of your care before and after your surgery. Details from your appointments with your medical team help them get a better idea of how long your recovery will be and where you should stay once you leave the human world hospital.

There is some disagreement about whether you should stay at the House of Lamentation or the Demon Lord's Castle. There are pros and cons about staying at the House of Lamentation.

Pros: all of the demon brothers are there to help you when you need assistance.

Cons: all of the demon brothers are there.

One of the concerns – and it's a reasonable one, if you ask anyone but the brothers themselves – is that they might be too demanding of your company in your condition or inconsiderate of your privacy, and possibly neglectful of your need to rest comfortably and quietly.

As the other alternative available to you, the Demon Lord's Castle has spacious rooms so that you'll be able to have everything you need. Your friends are welcome to come and go within reason, but their visitations will be limited to prevent you from being overwhelmed. Ultimately, the choice is left to you.

When you start attending your pre-op appointments, Lucifer goes with you if you don't ask one of the others to go in his place. He's one of the best choices despite his unfamiliarity with the medical ordeal you're about to go through. He quickly picks up on the details of your procedure and the types of support you'll need during your hospital stay and once you're discharged. He helps you prepare a list of questions and concerns for each appointment; the doctors and nurses can't brush your questions aside easily, not when Lucifer is there to ensure that the answers you're given meet his satisfaction.

Later on, Lucifer provides updates to his siblings and your other friends who are keeping tabs on these developments. It's best that they're all aware of what to expect and so that they can help you prepare for what's to come.

In the days leading up to your surgery, everyone does their best to ease your nerves but do a poor job of hiding their own anxieties. It doesn't really register as a real thing that's about to happen until you get notification that your surgery is only a couple days away, and suddenly it feels very, very real.

Lucifer prepares for your long-term absence from RAD and makes sure that any of your obligations – your clubs or student council duties or your part-time job – are dealt with. He buys anything and everything the doctors recommended for your recovery once you return home. If any modifications are required for your bedroom or private bathroom, he plans to have those completed during your hospital stay. (He's grateful your room is already on the first floor of the house, although he would've built one for you if he needed to.)

Mammon and Levi spend as much time with you as they can when they're not busy with other things they try to keep secret: Mammon's new job so he has extra money to buy you get-well presents (bigger and better than all his brothers) and the games and movies Levi has been ordering since he anticipates your recovery will be boring. What better way than to pass the time (hopefully with him?). Satan wanted to go to your appointments with you but he kept grumbling things like, if someone cuts you open, I'm going to cut them open. He's been focusing his efforts on researching which sorts of potions, elixirs or spells might help you recover faster and obtaining the materials he needs for them.

Asmo took you shopping (more than once) to pick up the items on your pre-op checklist of things to bring with you to the hospital: comfortable loose-fitting clothing, slippers, basic toiletries like your toothbrush. Everything he picked for you wouldn't fit in three overnight bags, let alone the single duffel bag you planned to take with you. He just put everything in your dresser and closet and insisted they'd be useful once you were discharged and allowed to come back home.

Beel was curious about your diet recommendations when you come home and he realized that the spicy Devildom foods you like are probably going to be too difficult for you to eat for the foreseeable future . He spoke to Lucifer and Barbatos about his concerns, and they plan to stock the fridge and pantry with all the recommended foods that would ease your recovery and reduce the risk of complications later. Beel took you out for dinner one evening, as a sort of last hurrah. He felt guilty that he didn't realize how serious this was and he admires you for being so brave about something he can't imagine going through himself. He offered to follow your post-surgery diet with you as a show of support because he doesn't want to be insensitive and eat all the delicious foods you won't be able to.

Belphie gets a bit irritated that his brothers take up so much of your time leading up to your surgery date. If you've been feeling tired or unwell leading up to your surgery, you put on a brave face for their sakes but he knows better. He can't take away your pain or discomfort, and he certainly can't fix you the way these human world doctors claim they can, but he can help you relax after a long day of appointments and preparations and pretending you're not as nervous as they all are. He can sense your anxiety rising as the date of your surgery draws near: you're not sleeping as well as you used to, tossing and turning into the late hours of the night and showing up to breakfast looking worse than you did the morning before. Fortunately, that's something he can help you with. He leads you to the attic to sleep and tries not dwell on how long it'll be before after your surgery when you'll be able to climb those steps again. He lulls you into a comfortable, dreamless sleep so that you can as much rest as possible leading up to the big day.

The evening before your surgery, the brothers are practically vibrating from nervousness. Everyone seems on edge and distracted. Asmo ruins his eye makeup from getting teary-eyed and he's especially clingy. Dinner is awkward when the brothers remember that you can't eat your regular diet anymore. You're limited to bland fluids in addition to the jug of prep you need to drink. You drink the powder mixed with ice-cold water and gulp it down – after the first pouch, you disappear into your bedroom. Eventually you come back and rinse and repeat, drinking and refilling that jug until its as empty as you are. (Beel was curious and drank a bit of it despite your warning that he probably shouldn't – his stomach made the strangest sounds the rest of the evening.)

When it's time for bed, you expect to collapse onto your mattress and toss and turn until your early-morning alarm goes off. What you don't expect is for Lucifer and his brothers to lead to you his room with the giant bed that happens to be big enough for all of them. The mood feels somber and you can tell they're as nervous as you are – even Cerberus spends the night in Lucifer's room, lifting his heads up once in a while to check on you while he keeps guard at the foot of the bed. It's the Devildom's most awkward cuddle pile, but eventually you fall asleep surrounded by seven very worried demons who can't manage to sleep themselves.

THE HOSPITAL

Your alarm goes off early that morning – far too early for your liking, but you're eager to get this entire thing over with. Most of the brothers are already awake and finalizing preparations to accompany you to the hospital. You have time for a quick shower and toss on a comfortable shirt, sweatpants and slip-on shoes – you don't need to look good where you're going, and you won't be wearing these clothes for very long.

The others arrive so Barbatos can summon a portal for everyone to take. Despite your many reminders, everyone insists they want to come and support you, including your friends from Purgatory Hall and Diavolo himself.

(What you suspect but don't know for certain is that Diavolo arranged for your care in the human world hospital you'll be staying at. There were concerns about visitor limits and securing the largest and best private room for your recovery, but a generous donation from the Hotel Corvo corporation helped ease some of those administrative hurdles.)

You're only allowed one support person to accompany you to the surgical unit, so the others grab coffee and pre-packaged muffins and slowly make their way down to the waiting area. Lucifer – or whoever you asked to accompany you instead – sits with you while you wait for your name to be called.

Time passes in a blur. You put on a starchy hospital gown and housecoat while you tuck your belongings into a plastic bag and carry it with you. The nurses direct you to a chair and go over the standard medical questions you've answered a million times before. You look away when the IV goes in, and on the other side of you, warm fingers squeeze your hand.

You're tired and nervous and there are too many thoughts racing through your mind, but you sit in silence while the clock ticks down. You shuffle awkwardly down a sterile hall with too-bright lights when it's finally time, and you hope the smile you shoot over your shoulder at your companion is convincing. (It's as unsteady as you both feel when you disappear with the nurse who leads you to the operating room.)

Maybe it's the exhaustion or the empty, upset stomach distracting you while you sit on a table and ignore the cool fingers and pinching sensation in your back while they prepare the epidural because you barely feel it. You lay on a narrow table with a blood pressure cuff on one arm and your IV in another, and when the medications quickly pull you into a dreamless sleep, you feel a last-minute sense of comfort knowing that your friends are waiting close by and they won't let anything bad happen to you.

While you're in the OR, your friends make themselves comfortable in the visitor's lounge and they wait for news. Four hours, six hours, eight hours later – none of them want to leave until they can see you're alive and well with their own eyes. You warned them all it would be a long and boring day and they insisted they wanted to come no matter what.

Some of them fidget in their seats and pace when their nerves get the best of them. Levi's handheld beeps and the buttons click noisily as he plays his game, and Satan tries to focus on a paperback he picked up in the gift shop. Mammon spends way too much money buying Nevada tickets from a vendor in the hospital lobby (“It's for charity, ain't it?!”) and rubs it in Lucifer's face when he actually wins something. Asmo frets with embarrassment when he sees the SCENT-RESTRICTED FACILITY poster on the wall and covers the scent of his expensive fragrance with a dampening charm to avoid upsetting the staff (and makes note to skip the heavily-scented body products for future visits). Belphie accompanies Beel to sample the cafeteria's food, multiple times.

Throughout the day, small groups take turns leaving the waiting room to grab fresh cups of coffee or sandwiches to snack on. Diavolo and Barbatos confirm with the hospital staff that your private room is ready with the special amenities they requested for you, including a cot that an overnight guest can sleep on. You chose your preferred companion in advance, and none of the others dared voice their petty disappointment that they weren't chosen instead. What matters most is that one of them is with you at all times to assist you in your weakened state (they called it protecting you, but you tried to reassure them without success that they were being too dramatic). The others are free to visit as much as they like, as long as you're comfortable with it of course.

It feels like eternity before news reaches your friends as your surgery ends, and then another update a couple hours later when you're moved from PACU to your hospital room. The nurses have already gotten you settled into your accommodations by the time the first visitors hesitantly step inside to see you. Despite the preparations and expectations and warnings, they're still not prepared for the machine humming and beeping at your side as it pumps various medications through your IV. There's a remote looped around the bed by your arm that lets you administer more pain medication through your epidural.

It's gotten late and the surgical ward is quiet except for the ambient sounds of nurses chatting quietly at their station or other machines beeping in nearby rooms. Against the standard-issue hospital linens and the thin gown you wear, you look more vulnerable than they've ever seen you, their perfectly imperfect human who’s gone through so much in such a short amount of time. Perhaps it's a good thing that you're overcome with exhaustion and only have fleeting memories of your friends' worried faces when they each came to see you before bidding you goodnight with a promise to come back in the morning. Some struggle to contain their emotions more than others, and there's a collective understanding between all of them that perhaps they've taken you for granted because they never want to see you like this again – not if they can prevent it.

Your nighttime companion sits at your bedside most of the night and watches over you in case you show signs of discomfort or pain. They pull the cord to alert the nurses when you wake up queasy and you request something for your upset stomach with your scratchy voice and dry throat. You can't eat or drink yet, but the nurse leaves a small plastic cup of ice chips at your bedside – it's enough to remove the cottony feeling from your tongue and throat, and you can sleep once more.

Your demon friends aren't familiar with modern medicine and none of them know what the bags of fluids hanging next to your bed are. RINGERS scrolls across the screen of the IV pump but it’s anyone’s guess what it means. All they know is that it seems to be important as it’s one of the last medications you stop taking before your IV is eventually removed. Tonight and throughout the days that will soon follow, the machine beeps loudly – and often – when the bag runs dry. They remember which button to hit to turn off the awful alarm so that the disturbance doesn't wake you while they wait for a nurse to come with a replacement.

RECOVERY

The first few days are some of the most challenging, but all of your friends are there to support you as much as they can. At least one of them is present when the surgeon and his residents make their early morning rounds. You can't bear to look at the staples and incisions hidden under the thick dressings that cover a large part of your lower belly, but the surgeon and nurses all claim that things look fantastic. You can't help but snort at the odd feedback, and Asmo reminds you that there's plenty of creams that can help with minimizing those scars later, if you want them. (He prefers you exactly the way you are, scars and all, but he keeps his opinion on that subject to himself.)

Your post-surgery diet is severely restricted until you're able to tolerate basic fluids again, and solid foods are introduced slowly too. Beel reads over your daily menu selection and glares at the abysmal tray of hospital food that is delivered to your room. He tastes some of the dishes and wonders how they can make something as simple as broth or cream of wheat so unappealing. Barbatos sips the lukewarm mug of tea on your tray that you ignore with each meal; you warn him that it's not good, and the pain in your stomach is worth it when you shake with laughter at the offended grimace that sours his expression. He promises to bring you drinkable tea from now on, and he and Beel both bring acceptable alternatives to your hospital fare in accordance with your current meal plan.

One of the most challenging things you didn't expect – and it catches your friends off-guard too – is how difficult it is to get up and walking again. After a few days in bed with the epidural numbing you to the worst of the pain and being mostly stationary aside from some breathing exercises, it's time to get up and take the literal first step towards your journey home.

Your friends scoff at the idea of a physiotherapist coming to help you, until they hear the first cry of pain when you sit up on the edge of the bed and breathe heavily like it's the most ardious feat you've ever accomplished. It's another reminder that this was a tremendous thing for your delicate human body to go through, and even though they can't just take away your pain or fix things magically (no matter how much some of them might want to), they'll do what they can to help.

They don't tease you when they slip your shoes onto your feet, and they don't stare or ask about the various bags of fluids hanging from the IV pole you lean on for support while you shuffle your way around the ward one lap at a time. They match your pace and are ready in a moment's notice to support you if you lose your balance, and as soon as they sense you're pushing yourself just a little too hard, they help you back into bed where you fall asleep not long after.

Things carry on that way until the surgeon announces tentative plans for your release. By now, you're bored out of your mind and eager to be anywhere but in that bloody hospital room. Your friends are eager to have you home again, and the air is charged with excitement for the first time since your surgery. Everything you need for your recovery at the House of Lamentation – medications and supplies and your diet plan and anything else you could possibly need – are ready for you.

On the day you're finally discharged, they help scan your room to make sure all of your personal items have been packed away for the trip home. One of them carries your duffel bag for you while a couple others carry boxes filled with the numerous gifts, cards, and vases of flowers that filled nearly every available space of your room. (The human world flowers have started to wilt, but the arrangements from the Devildom and the Celestial Realm, including the bouquet you received one day with a note signed only with “M”, are still blooming flawlessly as ever.)

[fictionalmenobsessor]

RULES ─ MASTERLIST ─ REQ BOX

CW: gn reader*, mentions of divorce.

there is a part 2 in the vault with smut if you guys want it 🫣 (as this story is gender neutral, the daughter can be adopted or surrogated, if you wish to put it that way. but the next part will specify that the reader is afab)*

song for the chapter: intro (end of the world) - Ariana Grande

husband!Simon, who is gutted but understanding when you say you want a divorce. your relationship had taken a slow but scrutinising turn ever since you had your first kid.

the flame wasn’t there anymore, and you had gone into a depressive state due to the overwhelming pressure of having to take care of your daughter by yourself every time he got deployed to another country, then having to pray he would make it out alive.

ex-husband!Simon, who moves out in a matter of days after the talk, going to a small local motel so you had your space. you are devastated at the loss of warmth on the other side of the bed. although it wouldn’t have been any different if he stayed, as you had both been isolating yourselves for a while.

ex-husband!Simon, who comes around every weeks to check up on you and your child. making sure that everything was okay, which it wasn’t, but you had pulled yourself together to make sure you were there for her.

ex-husband!Simon, who still comes to parent-teacher interviews/conferences, resting a loving hand on your thigh as your daughter’s teacher talks about how much of an amazing student she is.

you expected nothing of it as it could’ve just been a natural instinct from him.

like how he still wore his ring………. every day…

right…………

ex-husband!Simon, who helps out in the kitchen one night, after dropping off your daughter at a sleepover; passing dishes back and forth, making sure to add lingering touches, to see if they were reciprocated, or if he should stop. and you just ignored them for the time being, not wanting to give him the time of day due to the state he left you in.

ex-husband!Simon, who is on your door step the night before the divorce is finalised.

“I’m not signing the papers.” He stated firmly.

Your brows furrowed at the sight of him on your doorstep this late at night; speechless, you just let out a scoff of surprise.

“What?” You asked him confused, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m not signing the papers,” He repeated, “I want to make this work.”

“You don’t get to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Waltz back into my life like it’s nothing,” You answered, “I wanted a divorce for a reason.”

“I’ll be better.” His gaze narrowed, “I’ll prioritise you and our daughter, I didn’t do a good job last time. But now, I’ll be there every step of the way, and support you.”

“I won’t leave you in the dark again. And if you’re lost, I’ll make sure to be the light.”

Your gaze softened as he grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his chest.

“Please,” He whispered, “Can we try again?”

And just like that, the walls that you had built up to make sure you didn’t get hurt again, came crashing down.

[kentopedia]

♰ skipping heartbeats — nanami kento

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 3 - curse user!nanami

nanami wants to see every jujutsu sorcerer dead, but he might make an exception just for you

contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, sorcerer!reader, rough sex, slight overstimulation, begging, pet names, unprotected sex, villain nanami, jjk typical violence, tw mahito apperance :/, exes, angst, soft dom nanami, wall sex — 5.6k

He was never the same after Shibuya.

It's been two years, but you still remember that October with clarity. Memories blur at the back of your eyelids each night, carving images into your irises; each time you think you’ll get a full night of sleep, Nanami Kento returns to haunt your dreams, then lingers to steal your waking moments.

The change in him had been gradual, subdued. He’d hidden it well, so well, in fact, that everyone had believed that he was doing fine. Even you, the one who should’ve known him better than anyone, had never gotten him to reveal his darkest thoughts.

His succumb to madness was slow, but it was the consequence of a near decade. The burden of a sorcerer weighed heavily on everyone, but it hit Nanami the hardest, years and years of survivor’s guilt and misery bearing on his shoulders.

Then Halloween in Shibuya had happened; Nanami nearly lost his life, and something in him snapped. It wasn’t long after that he left. You haven’t seen him since.

Close to twenty-four months have passed since he disappeared, but his presence still lingers, twisting your world and your life into a den of chaos. No one is left at the school, and there are hardly any sorcerers left in Japan. Those who are still alive have moved anywhere but Tokyo, and those who stay know it won’t be long before they lose their lives too.

Your breath catches as you listen in silence, recounting every moment that led you here.

There is a scream from the other building, listlessly crying for help, but you won’t reach them in time, nor do you have the power to fight back. Despite your endless intelligence, your technique isn’t built for combat. It isn’t a threat to semi-grade one curses, and it certainly isn’t a threat to Nanami Kento.

You squeeze your eyes shut, slumping against the wall as you hold your arm, a bloodied wound seeping through your sleeve. There is no one here to heal you, no one left to help. Shoko moved away from the school months ago, once she realized that too many sorcerers are dying and Gojo is never coming back.

After that, many of the students left too; save for the few third years that had been determined to stay and fight.

The scream sounds again, before it’s cut off, abruptly. Another student gone. Another sorcerer dead.

You’d been such a fool to think you could take the place of people like Yaga, Gojo, Nanami; that you could bring together the last remaining sorcerers in the city. They’d been ones to look up to, strong and steadfast, but you are neither of those things.

You are the weak one who’d managed to stay alive, and the last person that probably should’ve.

Still, you persist, not giving into death so easily. There has to be an escape route; if you can’t save the students, maybe, just maybe, you can save yourself. There is still hope, as long as just one sorcerer is left in Tokyo. The school can be rebuilt, the curses can be exorcised, and things can go back to normal.

As long as you stay alive.

You listen, waiting for another sound before you move, attuned to your surroundings. The doors are shut, locking you in, and it’s too dark, too empty in the building for you to hide anywhere. Classrooms you’d once shared with Gojo open up like an endless chasm, the vending machine you got sodas from with Geto leers at you, and the hallways you’d kissed Kento in…

The memories are so soured.

You’re so close to the door, though. So close, and you can be free of the ghostly memories, and this time, you’ll leave Tokyo once and for all.

There is nothing left for you here now. With each day that passes, you start to realize more and more that no one is coming back. They’re all gone, and Nanami is not the man he’d once been.

You shuffle along the wall, trying to stay hidden in the shadows, away from the lights that flicker up above, destroyed by the veil of cursed energy. While your entire life has been a cacophony of evil, never before have you felt, so intensely, that you’re in a horror film. You are the final girl, ironically, without an ounce of heroine vigor.

All you have is a sliver of willpower to stay alive; just a few feet away, and you’ll be there, outside, able to escape from this pit of hell.

It’s so close—but not close enough.  

“There you are!” a voice cries out, ringing like a jovial song through the hallways. It is eerily familiar, much too high-pitched and enthusiastic for such a brutal warzone. “We’ve been looking for you.”

You turn, shoulders stiff as you try hard not to freeze. Behind you, a young curse stands casually, his blue hair rolling over one of his shoulders, a stitched face smiling at you evilly. He’s pleased to see you, that much is obvious, and he prances over to you, fingers waving in the air.

“Oh, I can’t wait! I have to make you last because we’re running out of sorcerors to play with!” The tone is horrifyingly amused, more frightening than Geto in his final hours, of any of the clan higher-ups, even of Gojo at his absolute worst.

It’s the tone of someone who feels nothing, who cares about nothing, and who will enjoy watching you bleed.

You open your mouth, throat dry as you scramble for words, for a way to defend yourself. Three seconds stretch out into a minute while you contemplate, but Mahito is already upon you, his eyes flashing with excitement.

This would be it, wouldn’t it? How poetic that this wretched curse would be the one to kill you, after he took everything from you two years ago.

He advances; but something stops him, another aura. It’s not as powerful, but it’s much more commanding, much more human.

“Mahito.” The tone is forceful, flat, without any nuance of sound. It comes from behind you, and you stiffen, knowing from the simple string of letters who it is. The sound of the voice has something unfurling in your chest, choking you, rendering you helpless. “Don’t touch her.”

“Why?” Mahito whines, curling his fingers around your hair, his cursed face and energy too close, too frightening for you to move. “There’s no one left to kill. What am I supposed to do now?”

“Find something.” Nanami’s to you in just a few steps, and you can feel his presence behind you, the voice that slowly sneaks up on you. He smells the same as he did back then, and you squeeze your eyes shut, try to remember that he’s not Kento anymore, and whoever he is, you don’t love him.

You can’t.

“I’ll take care of her.”

Mahito grumbles, but after a few seconds of staring down Nanami, he leaves, skipping off to some other corner of the school. It’s disgusting how pleased he is by the murders he’s committed, but why shouldn’t he be? If his goal is to rid the world of sorcerers, he’s done quite well at accomplishing it.

Which meant every one of your students is dead. Which meant any remaining sorcerers are gone for good. There isn’t a jujutsu sorcerer left in Tokyo but you, and even though you need to call for help, no one can get here fast enough to save you.

Nanami, slowly, comes around to glower before you, standing too close, his breath ghosting your shoulders. You feel his gaze like daggers, dragging over every inch of you, regarding you with a thinly veiled disgust.

You’re not ready to face him, not after all the time you’ve been apart, but you don’t have a choice. He’s in front of you within seconds, looking down at you from the bridge of his nose, his hair mussed, but still in the same style that he’d worn two years ago.

It is, really, the only thing about him that hasn’t changed.

“How the hell did you end up back here?” That’s the first thing he says, the tone crazed and so opposite of the flat inflection his voice had always held. The sound leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, and you twitch, trying to keep your expression from shifting. Not even a simple greeting before he’s already mocking you, judging your poor choices, the ones that will get you killed.

You say nothing, but regard him with a dry mouth, letting your eyes drift across his broad shoulders, down his chest. He’s covered in blood, stained deep maroon—evidence of his murders, the color so different than the gore of curses.

The old beige suit is gone, replaced by an expensive black one, tailored perfectly to every angle of his body. Nanami has traded in the blue button-up for a crisp burgundy one, and though the tie is different, it’s recognizable.

You’d gotten him that tie for his 28th birthday, one of black silk embossed with flowers, tiny white ones woven within the vines. You’d purchased it on your trip abroad.

It makes you sick. You’re not sure how long you can look at him without expelling the contents of your stomach.

“You know,” he says, not waiting for you to answer as he walks around, swinging his weapon that is now used for evil. “I thought that maybe when I left, you’d decide to do something with your life.” His irises that are now so dark, nearly black, pin you. Gone, too, are the old glasses, exposing his severe, narrowed eyes. “You stayed in Tokyo to rot.”

“What choice did I have?” you ask, wishing you could speak without your voice cracking. Yet, when Nanami stalks you like prey, calculating, the familiar blade in his hands, you feel a flare of fear start up in your stomach.

You don’t know the man before you. He’s beautiful, as handsome as you remember. Yet, he stares at you with disdain, and he’s cruel, so cruel. His lips are hardened into a permanent scowl, seeping through his merciless laugh.

“Well,” Nanami stops pacing and stands in front of you, running a hand down the side of the cursed tool, thoughtful. “I had hoped you’d come with me, but I knew better than to ask. Your moral convictions would have prevented that, darling.” A smile drips with poison as your steadfastness falters, the name sliding smoothly off his tongue, something about it still so sweet, even with his malice. “You always were too good for me.”

That isn’t true, at least, not in your mind. He had been a good man once, the very best. Maybe you could’ve done something to stop this, to help him. Yet, as many times as you run it over in your mind, even you can’t pinpoint the exact moment he’d fallen.

“You’re right,” you say, grateful that your voice sounds a little stronger, a little harder. “I never would’ve come with you. You’ve killed our friends. You’ve killed children, Nanami.”

Something shifts between you; his eyes widen as he takes another pace forward, nothing but inches separating you. Against every intelligent cell in your body, your heart skips, breath catching at his proximity.

“Nanami?” he asks, eyebrows pulling together with a sigh. The air grows stagnant around you as he notices the lack of warmth behind your apathetic eyes. “Here I thought you’d still call me by my name. We did once share a bed after all.”

“That means nothing to me now,” you spit, wishing he would stop staring at you with such hunger. You’ve never been immune to him, and you’re not sure you are now, not sure that you won’t waver at his feet, if even out of panic. He’s so solid before you, a resolute being of power. Perhaps he’s even stronger now than he was before. “Look at you. I don’t know who you are.”

Nanami points the sword at your throat, and though it’s blunt, not sharp enough to do any damage, you still weaken in the knees, stare back at him with something akin to dread. Your eyes are wide, but your breath comes out steady as your hands shake by your sides.

“I’m the person who decided to do something, finally.” Nanami raises his voice, every word punctuated by years of repressed anger. “Sorcerers grumbled for decades, centuries, but no one made any effort to make a change.” His jaw clenches as he drops the weapon back down, sniffing with abhorrence. Nanami’s in your personal space, his breath hot on your cheeks, and you feel tears well up in your eyes, even when you’re not sure why. “Even Gojo Satoru, who claimed to hate the higher-ups, who saved Yuuji Itadori, did little. I’m the person who realized that nothing’s going to change, not unless the system is burned from the inside out.”

A twitch starts from your heels, rising as he glares down at you. His features are tense, every muscle in his body taut. Still, there’s something about him. There’s something about the way he’s wearing the tie you once bought him, as familiar as the tall, strong frame that leers over you.

“There’s none of us left, Nanami,” you say, blinking away those tears, even though he’s already spotted them, the corner of his lips quirking with a crazed glint to his eyes. “You’ve made sure of that.”

“Then a new order of sorcerers can build its way from the ground up.” Nanami leans forward, his face near yours as he cocks his head. “I’ve succeeded.”

You squeeze your fingers into your shirt, twisting them around the stiff cotton tightly. Your heel slips just one inch back, away from him, and the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by your ex-lover.

He scoffs, a smirk widening.

“What’s wrong?” Nanami says. A veiny hand snakes between you, and he cups your cheek with a softness that goes against every fiber of what he stands for. “Are you afraid of me?”

Your lips part, but words don’t come out. Instead, you blink up at him with glossy eyes, your heart hammering in your chest.

“You probably should be,” he continues, his fingers brushing your jaw, luring you in, a security blanket that he will snatch away once you get comfortable. “I’ve ruined your life.”

The room feels colder than it did before, as terror starts pressing down on you, your entire body shaking with anxiety. Still, your eyelids flutter at his touch, every cell within you reacting out of muscle memory, weakened by the killer’s touch.

“A life that you once promised to protect.”

He smiles, and it’s so cold, a rival only to the devil's, even though it ignites a flame in your chest. “Why do you think I saved you for last?”

Your eyes burn with tears.

“Still as pretty as I remember,” Nanami hums on the edge of a sigh, and his gaze darts all over your face, searching for a secret buried there. His tone is rough, but, somehow, there’s an ounce of affection there too, like a part of him is still holding onto the near decade you were together. It’s no consolation, but it gives you some satisfaction; at least it meant something. “You have a new boyfriend?”

You turn hot all over at the way he grins at you, watches the flush form on your face as your eyes fly open. Nanami has you in the palm of his hand, easily, and whatever happens, it’ll be up to him. “N-no,” you stutter, his thumb sliding over your mouth, knocking against your teeth.

His grin is wild, predatory. “I knew I’d ruined you for anyone else.”

A breath catches in your throat, and your chest rises and falls heavily from the wave of desire that goes straight to your stomach. You feel as if your knees might give out, that you might need to grab onto him, just to stand upright.

It’s sickening, and you hate yourself, hate how much you want him, even though he’s the one that killed the people you care most about.

“Kento?” you ask in a small voice. “Are you going to kill me?”

“I don’t know.” He softens, just a hair, and easily, he’s back to the man you remember, the sweet, caring one you thought you’d marry one day. “I probably should… but I think I might just fuck you instead.” The words are muttered against your lips, and you stumble forward, gripping his strong biceps, a feeble attempt to keep from puddling at his feet.

His face clears once again, stoic, and harsh. Maybe it’s all a ploy to get you in his arms, to weaken you even further, but you don’t care. You’ve missed him, you’ve missed him so much, and you’d die to kiss him one more time. The blood on his face doesn’t matter; nothing matters except how much you once loved him, the love that never went away, even in the times you wanted to hate him.

You wonder whether or not Satoru would sympathize if he was here. Maybe he’d understand why you never went after Nanami and holed yourself up in the school instead. Although you tried to protect your students, you could never act out of violence, and that had cost you everything.

You know you've made mistakes, perhaps more than anyone, but you can’t control your heart; it’s a heart that is caged by steely ribs, and still the possessor of your fragile mind.

“Kento,” you say, running your hands all over him, the muscles that have only hardened, grown with time. “I miss you.”

It’s nothing more than a whisper, but it still changes his entire demeanor, turns him into something desperate. Kento comes on twice as strong; every caress sends a wave of need through you. When you whimper, toppling under his gentle touches, he kisses you hard, pushes you backwards into the wall.

The taste of his lips is almost too much, a conflict of memories piling onto you, transporting you into a version of yourself that is two years younger, much more hopeful. You kiss him like you’re twenty-two, unsharpened by the world, because despite what you have suffered, life was better seven years ago than it is now.

The illusion is short-lived, though; Kento is rougher than he used to be, and he shoves you hard, bruises your lips. His tongue forces its way into your mouth, sloppy kisses smearing saliva all over your cheeks.

He may not be as kind as he once was, but you’ll never be able to deny your attraction for him.

“Fuck.” Kento unzips his slacks, palming at the bulge that already lies within the tight material. “Look what you do to me, baby.” It catches you off guard; he’s never called you that before, never sounded so lewd instead of loving. “Think I started getting hard the second I saw you. Remember the last time I was inside you?”

You groan against his lips, breathing heavily as you thread your smaller hands in his hair. He tastes like alcohol, and you know that he’s always enjoyed a drink, but it was never this prominent on his tongue. That observation alone makes you wonder what else about him has changed; if he sleeps on the same side of the bed now that you’re gone, if he likes to read just as much as before, if he still takes his coffee with just a splash of milk.

The thoughts hurt, searing a hole through your chest. You try to ignore them.

As you kiss, Kento manhandles you backwards, his fingers spread over your collarbones. Your back hits the wall, a ghoulish crack reverberating throughout the room. It hurts, but the pain is outweighed by the feeling of him all over your body, the sheer anticipation for him to touch you like you need.

“Want you,” you say, as his hands clamp around your delicate wrists, pinning them against the wall. Kento’s palms are so much bigger; he’s so strong that it’s devastating. You have no choice but to let him take from you, to kiss down your neck and leave a bruise you won’t be able to cover up in the morning. “Please.”

“Dirty girl,” he laughs, breathless against your throat, the sound vibrating against the strained tendons there. Hastily, he spins you around, forces your face into the wall, your chest pressed into it. Your cheek is cold, smashed into your bone against the plaster. “I’ve killed everyone in this building, and here you are, begging me to touch you.”

The rough tone sends desire coursing through you, and you cry out against the wall as arousal bleeds out of you. Kento kisses you, across your shoulders, his cock pressing up against you, hard and thick.

A groan releases into your ear, and you squirm, rubbing your thighs together in anguish. Begrudgingly, Kento lets one of your wrists go so that he can drag your skirt down, leaving you with shivering legs in the cool October evening.

You reach back to grab at him, desperately needing him inside of you; but he stills you with his hand, laughing eagerly into your skin.

“So impatient. Thought I taught you better than that.” Though, he drags your panties down quicker, lets them pool at your ankles along with the dark-colored skirt. It’s obvious he wants you just as much; he wastes no time dragging a hand down his cock, the tip already beginning to leak.

“Kento,” you say against the cold wall, throbbing, swallowing down all your need for him. It’s too dark for you to see every one of his pretty features, but his shadowy eyes gleam ruthlessly in the moonlight. “Let me kiss you again—”

Kento tsks and shakes his head, brushing your hair over one shoulder. “Now, that can’t happen. You’ll fall in love with me again too easily.” A laugh forces its way out of his chest, and you hate that the sound creates pressure in your body. You’re already in love with him, but his grip is too tight on you; you can’t kiss him, even though you want to.

A finger runs between your folds as Kento reaches between your legs, gathering slick in the process. His skin is cold, and you whimper; he used to be so warm, a natural furnace. Yet, he’s teasing you now, listening to your breathy little whispers as you lean back into him.

Without thinking, you grasp his hand with your own, slide it forward as the veins and tendons flex under your palm. This time, he complies; he lets you push his fingers into your cunt, much thicker and longer than your own.

“Oh sweetheart,” he says, full of scornful sympathy, so contrary to the soft kisses on your neck. “You’re soaked. Have you really missed me that much?”

Your breath grows hot, heavy as he sinks his fingers deeper into you. You think about how much you loved him two years ago, and how much you still do.

Everyone you care about is gone, everyone but him. Perhaps Kento is the only one who’s truly ever mattered, because even if you’d been asked to kill him, you never would’ve done it, never could’ve; you’re not strong enough.

That’s where you and Satoru differ.

Kento slides his fingers in and out, stretching you, brushing against your swollen clit that’s begging to be touched by him. He bites down hard on your shoulder, blooms a bruise there and marks you as his forever, even if you’d never be anyone else’s anyways.

Already, you feel your climax building; you’re breathing heavier, crying out his name in a voice that doesn’t quite sound like your own. “I’m c-close,” you manage, and that is the wrong thing to say. He stills all at once and slips his fingers out of you, a web of arousal smeared over his knuckles.

Between your legs, you’re sticky, cold, but you barely notice. Your attention is directed on how aching and empty you are when his hands leave your body.

With a whine, you force your hips backwards, hating the chill that surrounds you all at once. “I wanna cum—”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Kento smiles against your neck and drags his cock against the small of your back, swollen and hard. “But I know you can ask much nicer than that.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, “please, Kento, please, please, I need you, I—”

“There’s my good girl.” A breathy laugh leaves him as he angles the tip against your entrance, slow, pressing into you. “Fuck,” Kento groans, loudly, drawing out the syllables. “Squeezing me so tight, baby, you’ve been waiting just for me?”  

“Ken—” you say, and it’s all you can manage, the little nickname that no one’s ever called him but you. Kento buries himself inside you, his hot, muscular chest pressing into your back, pinning you against the cold wall. He’s so much bigger and wider, and his body encases you, shielding you from the agony that he’s dealt with his own hand.

You’re not sure if you can stand on your own — not under the weight of your solid and forceful affection for him.

“I know, I know," he says to the sweet sounds that escape you. "I’ve got you.”

Kento reaches around and cups your breast, squeezing hard. His thumb flicks over your nipple, the nail dragging against it cruelly as he swirls over the padded bra. Still, his blanketed touch is electrifying; your fingers curl into the wall, smooth, clawing without anything to grab onto.

He fucks into you, slowly, his strained cock rough against your walls. It’s just as you remember, and you long for your old life, wishing that there was a sorcerer out there whose technique could somehow turn back time. Then, you’d do something different, even if you’re not sure what.

With each thrust, his speed increases, hitting deeper and deeper inside you. Kento’s groans are so pretty, and tears roll down your cheeks at the feeling of him within you, surrounding you, the man you still touch yourself to at night, even when he’s a cold-blooded killer.

“It’s been a while since anyone’s fucked you like this, hm?” Kento says, cooing, almost sorry, even if he doesn’t realize how true that is. You feel dizzy with him, the sound of his syrupy voice, so deep and invigorating. “Need to cum so bad, don’t you, pretty?”

“Please,” you say, and you almost tell him you love him, almost let it slip, even though it can’t. This is nothing, this is nothing, this is nothing, you try and tell yourself, but you’re too distracted by the sounds, the utter sin that you’ve committed here in this school.

You’ve betrayed everyone, and you’re still betraying them now, your weak heart nothing but a burden.

Kento says your name, groans it around your ear as he presses harder into your body. His cock angles upwards, forces itself past your aching walls, and, he’s buried in you completely. There’s a lingering sting, a bitter pain, but Kento feels like home. Your stomach tightens, bursting with energy.

“You’re so perfect, aren’t you? So beautiful. Always take it like you were made for my cock,” he groans, and you suck him right back in, clamping around him tightly. “I missed this pretty pussy; maybe as much as I missed you.”

Tears well up in your eyes then, and you sob, reach around to grab his hair. You need to feel him all around you, remember what it was like for him to love you in return.

He hits a spot within you, and you arch into him, crying, a mess between your legs and on your face.

“There?” Kento says, but he already knows the answer, grinning as he kisses your cheek, your temple. “How could I ever forget the sweet sounds you make when you’re about to cum.”

You press his head closer, feel him kiss your neck again, softer this time, lovingly. He runs a delicate hand across your ribcage, your stomach. “You going to let go for me, angel? Surprised you lasted this long after two years. Think my sweet girl deserves it.”

“K-kento,” you whisper, but his name doesn’t get far; it’s cut off by your moan as he rips the orgasm from you, and you clench around him tightly, shaking.

“That’s it,” he says and shudders, grunting as he forces out the words. Your body jerks involuntarily into him as you slump against the wall, trapped between it and Kento. Already, you’re so sensitive, and your tears don’t stop falling as he pushes his cock into you again and again.

Kento’s heart is heavy within his chest, pounding against your back. You feel sick, helpless, missing him endlessly, even with him right at your fingertips. You can’t believe that you’ve lasted two years without him; how can you survive a lifetime?

“Take me with you,” you plead, your eyelids fluttering close as you try and remember the feeling of him, memorizing it in case this is the last time. “Please.”

“Can’t do that, sweetheart.” Kento jerks back into you, forcing your cheek further against the wall. His hand is stiff against your head, even though he strokes your hair gently, encouraging. “I’m supposed to kill you, remember? I’m supposed to rid the world of every last sorcerer.”

“I need you, Kento,” you cry, feeling close to another orgasm already. Tears are running down your cheeks, your lips wet with spit as your mouth parts. “Just like it was before. I love you; I love you so much, I’ll be so good, I’ll—”

Kento groans your name and cums inside you, thick ropes painting your insides. It’s too much, everything about this is too much, and you’re squeezing him again, painfully sensitive as you orgasm once more.

Nonsense spews from your lips, and you grab at him in desperation as he finally drags out of you, the absence of him shattering you completely. Your inner thighs are sticky and wet, and his cum drips down your thighs, leaving you nothing more than a cold, ruined mess.

Kento shushes, soothes you with sounds that are closer to taunts as you spin around, grab at him, claw at his wrinkled red shirt. There’s still blood on his face, but even then, you accept him; you’ll forgive him for every wrongdoing he’s committed if he lets himself love you once more.

“I want to go with you,” you say, and though his face is hard, he’s caressing your cheek with an opposite sort of touch, sadness in his weary eyes.

“I know you do,” he says, and there’s a conflict within him as his features contort. It’s the only evidence that maybe, deep down, he cares about you still. “But I’m not the man you want. Not anymore.” It’s a whisper, a prayer, and goodbye.

You nearly slap him as he straightens, inches away from you. You feel that you’ve been pushed into a pit of inky chaos, left soaked and naked from the way down, humiliated. Your cheek is red from where it was pressed into the textured paint, stinging from the pressure.

“Kento, please,” you beg, and he takes a step back, hardening his eyes. “You can’t leave me again. I’d rather die. I’d rather you kill me.”

You’re not sure which of the statements snaps him back into himself once more.

Kento blinks, then lets a cold smile filter onto his face, one that lingers darkly on every corner of his expression. A smear of blood remains on his sharp cheekbone, and he wipes it clear, grazing his eyes along your body in a way that makes you feel so small. You’re nothing to him, then; even though you had been once.

“Oh, I decided I won’t kill you this time,” he says, pushing his hair back into place as his spine goes rigid, straightening like a marionette string. “I want to make sure I have a pretty girl to come back to every now and again.”

“What?” It leaves you forcefully, and you’re choking in shame, because you hope the words are true. You can’t stand a life without Nanami Kento, even if that life is nothing more than seeing him in the cracks of moonlight, the shadows where no one knows he’s lurking. You’d take that before a lonely existence, void of the sweet lips of the devil that you pray to.

“I’ll leave Tokyo,” you shout, red-faced and teary eyed, your words nothing more than empty threats. “I’ll leave the country. You’ll never find me.”

Nanami grins, laughs at you coolly, a sound that chills you to the core. “Oh, I’d find you.”

You don’t have time to formulate a response. A breath forces its way out of you, but the wretched curse reveals itself from the corner of the room, stopping any words from escaping your lips. His eyes hungrily roam every inch of you, lingering on the lower half of your exposed body; you wonder how long he’s been there, watching, not saying a word.

“Are you done yet?” Mahito asks, dragging his lurid gaze away to face Nanami. “You’ve had your fun, let’s kill her now.”

Nanami’s eyes flash. “Leave her,” he says, scoffing. “She’s already as pathetic as it gets. Killing her won’t make a difference.” He spits the words coldly, and turns, following the curse out of the room

tags: @hannzai @cha0thicpisces @kissesmellow21 @sukiischaotic @hinata7346 @annoyingpainterprincess

I GOT SO NERVOUS TO POST THIS ONE SHDHFHS

OCTOBER MASTERLIST

[rikosseen]

Gun Park x Reader: Creep

Anon ask | fighter fem reader

Jonggun Park has plenty on his plate already. He’s a busy man with a list to tick off. A busy man whose time is precious and not easily given out.

Though, as he continues to mindlessly carve the wood in his hands, said man can’t help but feel neurotic and excited when recalling what happened a few nights ago. His skin pricks, and a ticklish shiver runs through his body. What’s got him feeling so giddy? Must be the nicotine crashing his system. But no, the cause for his malfunction is an individual. One that momentarily captured both his time, and pride. An individual who Jonggun Park could not keep his mind off.

After all, Park Jonggun doesn’t get his ass whooped. He’s the one whooping ass. Park Jonggun doesn’t miss his calculated attacks. Definitely not to some no name rando. Park Jonggun is quite literally built too different to be thrown off. This makes you a threat, right? You were a threat, right? It’s worth finding out more about you, right? Right. This was all for a bigger cause. For the greater good of…everything. Yes, that’s right. The greater good of everything. So away Jonggun goes to scour you.

.

.

After turning the city of Seoul upside down (and making unneeded threats), he suddenly and coincidentally (as coincidental as this can get) lands his eyes on the person he’s been searching for.

Found you.

Junggoo pokes his head out from behind Gun, lowers his shades, and squints to take a better look. Of course Goo kim was in on finding out who piqued the pervert’s interest.

“You got beat by her? Embarrassing!” The blonde snickers, looking over at Jonggun to see his reaction. Gun, attention still on your moving figure, punches him in the face and tells him to fuck off. To which Goo scowls as he staggers back. Jonggun quickly jogs after you, and steps on Goo’s foot on the way.

“It’s illegal to stalk people! Fucking weirdo!” Goo squawks, rubbing his bruised cheek.

How hypocritical. Jonggun brushes him off as he eagerly paces behind you.

Found you, found you, found you.

The weather was great for a run. It was early in the morning, and- huh? Footsteps? This early? Johan! You snap your head around to acknowledge who you think is your bestie boo, Johan Seong running beside you. Only, it’s not your bestie boo. It’s a more repulsive sight. A familiar face. A face you encountered once, but obviously didn’t quite forget, because well, this man hit you. Punched your nose for having relations with bestie boo Johan. How dare he hit a lady. What’s his deal with being a Johan hater anyway? You scowl, and he grins. You speed up, and he matches your pace. You turn and try to ankle break him, but he does the same. So you stop running completely and stare up at him. Jonggun looks down, and before he’s even aware, the man is sweeped off his feet. He grabs your foot, and you land on the ground next to him with an oof.

“What is wrong with you?!”

He grins that ugly grin again.

“Fucking creep,” you spit out.

Oh, and this man is indeed a creep. Jonngun Park stands up, and proceeds to take off his shirt. You look at him, bewildered. What in the world?-

“Let’s go again,” he says.

Again? Oh.

.

.

Classes are done, and you mentally groan at all the work you have to finish off for school. Home sweet home, here I come- Is that? It’s him. Your stomach drops.

Jonggun Park is standing right infront of your school gate, eyes darting from student to student until they land on yours. Is this a police worthy report? Again, the man grins his ugly grin and walks toward you.

“Let’s go again-” you don’t even let him finish, scampering away in hopes to lose him in the crowd of students.

.

.

Today’s sparring session went extremely well, and-

“Let’s go again,” the creep is in front of your gym, shirt off, and that stupid, stupid grin plastered on his face. “You know, ever since since that night-”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” you throw a combination of punches that send him tumbleweeding across the street before running away in frustration.

.

.

Slowly, you poke your head out the door, looking left and right. There’s no way he knows where you work. Once the coast seems clear enough, you walk out, and keep your head down. Footsteps follow you. Oh God, please no.

“Let’s go again-”

You start sprinting away, and want to scream. Screw Johan for being friends with you, and screw this guy.

I don’t deserve this, you mentally sob

[callsigns-haze]

Could you write a Tyler Owens x reader where he's helping the reader calm down from an intense school moment. Like in college for a tough major (architecture would be cool lol, not biased at all; maybe focusing on better built homes for tornados) and it's like the first day of classes and it's chaos already.

Study Stress

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Warnings: Study stress, crying, emotional turmoil

A/N: I study architecture so trust me I have 11 projects going on currently and I sit in tears

The first day of classes at the College of Architecture was supposed to be exciting—a fresh start, a new challenge. But as the hours ticked by, Y/N felt the weight of the day pressing down on her, each class piling on more expectations and responsibilities. The chaotic buzz of students around her, the endless syllabi full of demanding projects, and the looming deadlines were enough to make her head spin.

By the time her last class ended, Y/N was completely overwhelmed. The idea of spending the next several years in this intense environment, working on complex designs and innovative solutions, seemed daunting. And to top it all off, her focus on tornado-resistant homes—a passion project born from personal experience—only added to the pressure. The stakes felt incredibly high, and it seemed like everyone else was already miles ahead.

Dragging herself back to her apartment, Y/N tried to hold it together. But as soon as she closed the door behind her, the floodgates opened. She slid down to the floor, her back against the door, tears spilling down her cheeks. The stress, the anxiety, the fear of failure—it all came crashing down at once.

She didn’t hear the door open or Tyler’s footsteps approaching. She was too lost in her thoughts, in the panic that was rising inside her. But when she felt his arms wrap around her, pulling her into a warm, comforting embrace, she finally exhaled.

“Hey, hey… it’s okay,” Tyler’s voice was soft, soothing, as he gently rocked her. “I’ve got you.”

Y/N buried her face in his chest, her sobs muffled against his shirt. “It’s too much, Ty. It’s only the first day, and I’m already falling apart. How am I supposed to do this?”

Tyler didn’t respond right away. Instead, he just held her, letting her cry, letting her get it all out. He knew better than to try and fix things with words right now. Sometimes, you just needed to let the storm pass on its own.

After a few minutes, when her breathing started to even out, Tyler pulled back just enough to look at her, his hand gently brushing a few stray tears from her face. “You don’t have to do it all at once, you know,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring. “You’re going to take it one step at a time, one class at a time, one project at a time. And I’ll be right here with you, every step of the way.”

Y/N sniffled, wiping at her eyes. “But what if I can’t do it? What if I’m not good enough?”

“You’re more than good enough,” Tyler replied firmly, his eyes meeting hers with unwavering confidence. “You’re smart, passionate, and driven. You care about what you’re doing, and that’s half the battle right there. The rest… well, it’s just practice. You’ll get better, you’ll get stronger, and you’ll learn how to handle the pressure.”

Y/N wanted to believe him, but the doubt still lingered. “I’m so scared of failing.”

Tyler’s expression softened, and he took her hands in his, squeezing them gently. “Failure isn’t the end of the world, Y/N. It’s just part of the process. And you’re not in this alone. You’ve got your classmates, your professors, and you’ve got me. I’m not going to let you go through this by yourself.”

She looked into his eyes, finding comfort in the steady, reassuring gaze that had always been her anchor. Tyler was her calm in the storm, the person who could steady her when everything else felt like it was spiraling out of control.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N nodded, feeling a little more centered. “Okay… one step at a time.”

Tyler smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “That’s my girl. Now, how about we take the rest of the day off? We can order some takeout, watch a movie, and just relax. The work will still be there tomorrow.”

The idea of taking a break sounded like exactly what she needed. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

“Good,” Tyler said, helping her up from the floor. He kept his arm around her as they moved to the couch, where he pulled a blanket over them both. As they settled in, Y/N felt the tension slowly leaving her body, replaced by a sense of warmth and security.

With Tyler by her side, she knew she could face whatever challenges came her way. And for now, that was enough.

Requests for Tyler are open be free to send in as much as you wish!

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

@katiemcrae

[kurogane2512]

I can treat you better

A little concept I wanted to try for a while, I see this done with male characters a lot and I wanted to experiment on my waifus.

Game: Genshin Impact

Characters: CEO!Ningguang, Teacher!Lisa, Milf!La Signora (referred as Rosalyne) x fem!reader

Type: Fluff hcs and drabble, Modern AU

Contains: Broken marriages, infidelity (not with reader), comforting, teacher-student relationship (Lisa), age-gap (Lisa and Signora)

Marriage is supposed to be the ultimate union between lovers, a symbol of togetherness and eternal love. However, not every marriage ends as well as it began. Love shouldn't fade away but sometimes it does, or perhaps it never existed in the first place and was just a matter of convenience.....

CEO!Ningguang who owns the most successful business in the country that she started by her own efforts. A meticulous and hard-working woman who has lines of suitors but everyone knows she's already given her heart to her husband, a simple man she met in college and fell in love with. He promised to support her in her business venture and always stuck right by her side the more she built her empire.

Ningguang is highly successful in life, she has money and a loving partner- what more could one ask for? You are her secretary, her right-hand woman, who has assissted her since the beginning. The first and only secretary she has had because you are perfect for the job. You have had a crush on her for the longest time, but you knew how happy she is with her husband so you simply continue supporting her from the sidelines.

However, her marriage started becoming rocky recently. Ningguang spent too much time at work, doing overtime almost every day for the last 6 months and rarely spending time with her partner. Ningguang never stopped climbing the success ladder, she wanted more and she was determined to work for it. Her husband, on the other hand, became a stay-at-home husband because.... why does he need to work when his wife is the richest woman in the world?

Ningguang became more stressed as days passed, she was making deals with all these demanding companies all the while trying to keep her marriage at bay. Many times, you heard her arguing with him on the phone, his voice would be so loud that you could clearly make out the curses and accusations he threw at her. It frustrated you. How dare he say all that to her? How dare he think of her this way?

Ningguang was working hard for her future with him, she was not greedy for money. She wanted to give him and her eventual children the best life she could, all of this hard work was for him. Yet, he seemed to have never realized that. The more days Ningguang spent cooped in her office, the more apart she became with him. Until the day you heard her crying for the first time in your life....

"Ms Ningguang, the documents you want—" you stepped inside Ningguang's office but stopped mid-sentence as you heard her sniffle. She was seated on her table, holding her head in frustration and looking at something on her phone.

"Ms Ningguang, are you okay? What happened?" You were genuinely worried, the woman you loved was crying and you wanted to do something. Ningguang quickly wiped away her tears and switched off her phone screen before standing up and looking at you firmly, "Ah, Y/n, thank you. I had been looking for these for a while."

She avoided your question. You knew something was seriously wrong now. You wanted to ask more but decided to not pester her and continued with the work you had brought in, she came into her 'work mode' almost immediately. She always impressed you so much. The two of you finished the work for the day then you invited her to a diner for a simple meal, hoping to lighten her mood. You had a hearty meal together and drank a few glasses of alcohol to unwind, she became a bit tipsy and leaned on the bar table while you prepared to leave the place and escort her home.

"Earlier.... my apologies for avoiding your question." Ningguang suddenly spoke causing you to stop your actions and listen to her.

"N-No, ma'am, it's okay. You are not obliged to tell me everything...."

She sighed then took out her phone and scrolled to a particular photo then showed you the screen, your eyes immediately widening in shock.

"Is this.... your husband? And that woman...." Yes, it was a photo of her husband with another woman, and they looked very intimate like a couple. It could be brushed off as friends but the position was.... too intimate for friends, the woman was all over him and he was very much into her as well. Now, you realized why Ningguang was potentially crying at that time. You stayed silent and looked at Ningguang with sympathy while she simply let out a bitter chuckle.

"What do you think? They are just friends? That's what I want to believe as well but I have never seen her around him before, we know each other's friend groups well enough. Either she's a new addition during the time I have been away or...."

She trailed off and you noticed tears forming in her eyes. You felt infuriated. She did not deserve this at all.

"....I suggest you should talk to him and clear up things, having doubts and misinterpretating can lead to unnecessary conflicts between you two. You should take some time off from work, I'll handle everything for you, ma'am."

Ningguang pinched her temple and pondered for a moment before nodding, "I know, you are right. But hypothetically speaking, if this is what I think this is then.... what should I do? I....I don't know how to face him."

"You shouldn't think of that possibility, ma'am. He loves you, doesn't he? You should trust that and talk to him openly. I....don't think he would do this to you; you are amazing and so beautiful, it could just be a misunderstanding."

You wanted to comfort her and give her some hope but deep down, you weren't so sure yourself. The picture was too obvious to be misunderstood, but you didn't want to see Ningguang upset. She finally smiled a little and nodded then you helped her stand up and escorted her to her car. She was more drunk now and leaned on your shoulder, wrapping her arms around your body and snuggling into your neck.

"....It's my fault, isn't it? It's all because of how neglectful I have been, I have barely spent any time with him. Everyone says I'm married to my work now, he waits for me every day and I come home late then leave early morning without talking to him at all. This was bound to happen, it's all my fault..."

She was rambling, blaming herself for everything. You hated seeing her this way, you knew how much she loved him. "But...But I have been holding back so much as well. I also have needs! We haven't touched each other in so long....and he goes and finds someone else."

CEO!Ningguang who later talks to her husband and finds out it was a misunderstanding, the woman really was a new friend he made. The smile on her face returned and she became more relaxed, there was no greater joy for you than to see her being happy again. She thanked you for your advice and started having a better work-life balance.

You supported Ningguang even more and sent her home early so she could spend time with him; although, you never stopped doubting him because that photo was way too suspicious and you felt he was lying just to take advantage of her and her money. You became a comfort person for Ningguang, a shoulder to cry on whenever she needed it. She shared with you her personal things and regularly asked for suggestions for her love life.

You thought all things were going well until one day when you came across another photo of him with that same woman from before. Once again, Ningguang was sobbing in her office that night while holding you close and rambling. She revealed that she had planned to talk about having children with him soon and also booked a vacation to spend time together but now she could no longer go about it.

You couldn't see her this way. You comforted her and slowly told her that she should reconsider her marriage. He was cheating on her and using her money. You didn't know if his love was ever real, but you were bound to believe it wasn't. It infuriated you to see such an amazing woman like Ningguang go through this, you wanted to be there for her and help her as much as possible.

She eventually divorced and cut all connections with him and his family, even buying a separate house for herself and sending him far away. You could see her true self returning, she felt liberal and free after all this time. And she wasn't blind to ignore all the help you gave her; spending late nights in her stead to complete her work so she could enjoy.... why were you so supportive of her? She started seeing you differently and wondered if there was more to you.

"You are an idiot, Y/n." Ningguang overheard you talking with a colleague one day during your coffee break and she hid around the corner and listened in.

"Who in their right mind helps patch up the marriage of the woman she loves?! If it was me, I would have used that to come between them and taken her!" your colleague spoke with a chuckle, Ningguang's eyes widening at the statement. You loved her? You did all that.... all the while being in love with her? The time you spent advising her and helping her be with her husband.... you loved her all that time?

"Don't be ridiculous! She.... she loved him and I just wanted to see her happy, even if not with me. Besides, I'm not in her league at all. I'm fine with how things are and now that she's no longer bound to him, she can be herself and do what makes her happy."

Ningguang's heart skipped a beat, you did so much for her just to see her happy.... even her ex-husband never did that. It was always her being the giver in the relationship and she barely received anything in return from him, now she realized the true meaning of love. She realized how blind she had been, there was someone doing everything for her just the way she had been doing for him.

CEO!Ningguang who starts falling for you, seeing you as more than just a secretary or friend. She tries to be around you more, makes you accompany her to more places than before. She invites you to her house under the guise of working, just to spend more time with you because your presence is so comforting to her. She is still recovering from her broken marriage, but with you she feels loved.

She plans to confess in the near future if you don't, and till then tries to understand you better as a person. She realizes how much she has always liked you but was too blinded to see it. But what she didn't see coming was when you handed in your resignation notice one faithful day....

"Resignation? Why all of a sudden? Is the salary not up to your requirements? Is there too much work pressure? I don't see how there isn't any room for negotiation if you find something unsatisfactory here, Y/n." Ningguang was perplexed, almost on the verge of breaking down. Why were you doing this? Were you really going to bury your feelings and leave?

"No ma'am, none of that. Everything is good here; the salary and work environment, I like everything and I don't mind the work pressure either because it's very rewarding."

"Then why? I believe I deserve to hear a proper reason for this. You are one of my oldest and best employees, have you been offered a better deal somewhere else?"

Ningguang attempted to negotiate with you to make you stay; aside from how used to she was to you and your working style, she truly didn't want you to leave.

"....Are you really going to leave just like this? Without even telling me your true feelings?!" Ningguang's voice raised as she paced around the table and stood in front of you, looking at you firmly. You were confused as to what she meant, but she soon answered your doubts.

"This is how your love is, Y/n?! You'll run away without speaking a word?! You also want to leave me?!"

Your eyes widened, how did she know? And why was she being this way? You were about to say something but Ningguang grabbed your collar and pulled you into a passionate kiss, her lips kissed yours feverishly as if she wanted to own you and keep you here forever.

"Don't you dare leave me.... Is that clear?" Ningguang whispered against your lips as she pulled away from the kiss, leaving you breathless and astonished. You had no idea when she found out about your feelings but now that the cat was out of the bag, you didn't want to hold back either.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I....I love you very much, Ms Ningguang. I want to be with you and I promise to treat you well, I want to keep you happy forever."

Teacher!Lisa who is the sweetest and most beloved teacher at your university. Currently in your first year, she teaches you chemistry and let's just say the entire university has a crush on her to some extent, teachers and students alike. A kind, hardworking and sincere woman who has been teaching for 6-7 years now and has never had a complaint against her. But to everyone's vain, she's happily married for 5 years to a man arranged by her parents.

Lisa loves teaching and interacting with her students, she's always ready to put in the extra effort for struggling students and very patiently deals with problematic cases. She's usually soft spoken and pleasant to be around, but anger her and she can be quite strict and terrifying as well even if it's extremely rare to see her that way. As her student, you don't miss any of her classes due to how much you love to attend them.

Lisa eventually became your class tutor and you showed utmost enthusiasm to be the class representative in order to help her, but truthfully you just wanted to be with her more. Your classmates called you a teacher's pet but you didn't care, you genuinely wanted to help Ms Lisa and care for her just like she cares for you. You eventually grow close with her as you spend time outside of classes, doing some work or the other and chatting along.

Lisa rarely talked about her family which wasn't surprising as you were just a student, but you discovered that even with her colleagues she rarely ever shared anything and seemed to dislike the topic altogether. Everyone assumed her marriage was good considering how sweet and lovable she was, she'd make a perfect wife. But little does everyone know her dark reality....

"Ah, Y/n. Do you mind opening the window? It's gotten really warm these days...." Ms Lisa sighed and fanned her face as sweat trickled down her forehead, the two of you were sitting in the staff room during afternoon. She had called you to do some work and you agreed as it was your free lecture; coincidentally, the staff room was also empty right now as other teachers had gone for classes.

You nodded to her and stood up to slide open the nearby window and let the cool breeze flow in. You then turned around to walk back to your place when you saw Ms Lisa remove her coat and pull up her sleeves which caused you to glace at a peculiar cut on her wrist.

"Ma'am, did you get hurt?" you came closer and asked in a concerned tone. She realized where you were pointing and quickly slid her sleeve back down to hide the scar before letting out a forced smile.

"Oh, it's nothing. I accidentally brushed my hair straightener there."

"....I see, please take care of yourself."

You weren't easily convinced that's all it was but you were unable to know more. You worried about her, you hoped everything was fine.

Teacher!Lisa who actually has a toxic good-for-nothing husband living off her hard-earned money. A regular drunkard who lost his job after their marriage, she was forced to marry him because he used to be well off but in reality, he was doing illegal work that eventually got him caught and put on house arrest. She is the sole breadwinner of their household and struggles every day to make ends meet.

Lisa never let anyone know the truth about her marriage, not even her parents. She knew they wanted the best for her when they made her marry him and he did appear to be nice back then. She regularly argues with him and looks after him when she comes home, all the while managing work from the university and her basic duties.

Lisa's husband recently became violent and started hitting her during their arguments. She was coming to her breaking point but she couldn't leave him; after all, she fell in love with him after their marriage. He was handsome and gentlemanly in the beginning; despite being an arranged marriage, they got along and liked each other. She hated seeing him in this state and promised to keep supporting him even when nobody else does.

But everyone has a breaking point, and Lisa was nearing hers too. She hated having to tolerate such treatment every day, she wanted to be a good teacher and be with her students who bring her joy without having to worry about going back to a dreadful home. Then one day, her husband crossed even more borders. Now she had to live with him cheating on her as well? How could she walk into her house just to find another woman in bed with her good-for-nothing husband?

Lisa had no words and packed up her essentials then left, she did not need any explanations or excuses. How could he do that? What did she not do for him? And how is she lacking in appearance or sex drive that he'd go for some random woman? She gave him everything and he never recognized it, she had enough. She found herself at a bus stop, eyes filled with tears and no idea of what to do. That's when a miracle happened.

"Ms Lisa?! What are you doing here at this hour?!" your voice called out to her from behind, and she turned around to see you walk up to her with an excited look.

"I'm just...." she trailed off and your eyes fell on the bag she was carrying, tear stains on her face.

"What happened? Are you okay?" you asked softly and stepped closer, gently caressing her arm.

"...What about you, Y/n? Why are you out so late?" she averted your question.

"O-Oh, I'm just returning from my part-time work. My flat is nearby, would you like to come?"

"Do you live with anyone else?"

"No, it's an independent flat. I.... didn't really want a roommate."

Lisa ponders for a while and eventually agrees to come with you. A humble abode perfect for a single person, she found a strange sense of calmness and comfort in your apartment. You offered her some beverage and you found out she hadn't eaten anything since afternoon, feeling appalled and immediately went to cook for her. She trusted you, she wanted to be away from her life for now.

"Uh, sorry, I don't have too many ingredients right now. I was going to go shopping this weekend, I hope you don't mind pasta...."

Lisa looked at the plate you put in front of her, a small smile appearing on her face. "Pasta is my favorite dish, actually. But it's been a long time since I had it, thank you."

You smiled back, you knew something was up. The cheerful Ms Lisa was strangely quiet, seemingly holding back a lot of her emotions. Eventually, she finally opened up to you and told you everything about her husband- from the abuse to cheating. You were terrified hearing the horrors she faced, yet presented herself to be happy at the university, nobody could guess she faced all of that every day.

You offered her to stay at your place for as long as she wants, and that she should report him to police and talk to her parents. A divorce was the obvious couse of action, but you were in no place to advice that to her. You only hoped to comfort her and provide her a home until this passed. That night, you laid in bed together and Ms Lisa held you as she cried out, eventually falling asleep in your arms. If only she knew how much you loved her, right from the first day you saw her....

Teacher!Lisa who talks to her parents the next day and tells them everything. They feel devastated hearing what their daughter went through, and they assist her in a successful divorce where she gets maintenance claims and a secret property he had. It was a messy court case given the illegal work of the husband, but she triumphed and obtained her justice.

The case went on for a few months and Ms Lisa lived with you all this time. She helped you in your studies and enabled you to become the topper in her class, though she never used any unfair means to help you. It was sometimes hard to hide the fact that you were living together, but you both made it work. Ms Lisa wasn't open for a new relationship yet, It was true she really loved him and it was hard to move on despite all the terrible things he did.

Ms Lisa and you grow closer than ever during the time she lives with you. You act like a happily married couple more than she ever did with her ex-husband. She said she'll do all household chores to pay you for allowing her to live there, though you really didn't mind either way. You cook together, watch movies, laugh and share past memories, study, have shopping dates and what not.

Lisa did not know it yet but she was deeply in love with you, she had forgotten how it felt to be treated with love and given importance. She wondered about your love life now, if you have someone you like or wish to date. You tell her you want to focus on studies and career, but there is indeed someone you like. She becomes curious, even slightly jealous realizing the gap between you and her.

One night, you were out until late drinking with some friends. You returned home in a drunk state and Lisa was ready to tend to you. While she was surprised you had this side to herself, she was more pleased to know more about you and wanted to care for you. She was already an expert in tending to drunkards, and you were unironically so adorable acting as one.

"Ms Lisaaaa~ You are so beautiful, you know thatttt?~" you slurred as she carried you to the bed, chuckling along the way.

"You teach... so welllll.... and you are so sweettttt~"

"Yes yes, I know. You have said that even as sober~" she whispered, laying you down then going to fetch some water for you. You curled up in your pillow and when she came back, you looked so cute to her.

"I love you... Ms Lisa... I love you so much...." you slurred in a drunken state, catching her by surprise.

She smiles and gives you the water then you immediately pass out while hugging her, your head laying on her soft bosom. Lisa caresses your head and kisses your forehead in return, "Say that when you are sober, I'll give you an answer you'll like~"

It was last day of your second year, you still had 2 more years to spend at the university. You wanted to wait till graduation but couldn't anymore, you wanted to confess. And it seems, Ms Lisa was having similar thoughts. Only you both knew how much you held back when you lived under the same roof. You find her in am empty classroom waiting for you.

"I love you, Ms Lisa. I have loved you since last year, and I want to date you. But um... I understand if you don't want to, so please don't feel forced to give me—"

Your words were blocked as Lisa pulled you close and connected her lips with you in a passionate and loving kiss. Her arms wrapped around your neck as she pushed you to the wall and continued kissing, her tongue already slipping in and dancing with yours.

"Took you long enough to say that, Y/n~"

"You... knew? Since when?"

"Hehe, that's my secret~" she winked at you then jumped in for another kiss, completely devouring you this time. She knew you would treat her well, she felt at home with you and she was confident she would love you forever now.

Milf!Rosalyne, a 31-year-old who is your new neighbor. She recently moved to the apartment in front with her husband and 4-year-old son. You were 16 when the family moved in, you welcomed them along with your mother and acted as good neighbors. Rosalyne was a pleasant housewife while her husband worked in the military hence often leaving her and their son home alone.

Rosalyne used to take home tuitions and manage the entire household by herself, you eventually ended up visiting her to help around and just give her company. She was lovely and overall amazing to talk to, you discovered she did the same course you were planning to do and took some advice from her.

You often had dinner at her place on the days her husband was home. You would play with her son and secretly observe how lovey-dovey they were, it was clear they deeply loved each other and nothing could come in between. You used to watch them giggle in the kitchen, cuddle on the sofa and share small kisses throughout the day.

Rosalyne often commented how you were like a helpful big sister for her son as you helped him in studies and played together, which meant she likely saw you as a child which wasn't surprising. She found you mature for your age and admitted liking your company and it was a bonus that her son did too. She was a great mother, extremely loving and supportive.

However, you moved away to another city at 18 for studies for 4 years. Now you have returned as you found a job in your hometown and decided to live in your parent's apartment as they moved out. You harbored a crush on Rosalyne back when you regularly met her, you couldn't help but feel jealous of her husband.

You reminisced your memories of your home as you climbed the steps to your apartment. 4 years passsed yet much didn't change about the place, and you were having a sense of deja-vu. The first thing you noticed was your neighbor's door, hoping the nameplate was still the name you remembered and, it indeed was. You felt happy as well as nervous meeting her again; how was she now? would she have changed in all this time?

Once you settled your things in your apartment, you decided to finally visit the woman you have had a crush on for years. You thought being away for 4 years would make you let go of these feelings, but you never stopped thinking about her. You didn't know what she thought of you, but it was more than likely she would only see you as a friend at most.

You rang her doorbell and waited in anticipation until the door finally opened, and your breath was taken away. She looked as beautiful as the day you first saw her, it felt like you fell in love with her all over again. She scanned your figure from head-to-toe until her eyes widened as she realized who was standing in front.

"Y/n?! Oh my god, it's been so long!" Rosalyne chimed and lunged forward to hug you affectionately, hearing her call your name sent butterflies in your stomach and the hug made your heart skip a beat. You were glad to see she remembered you so fondly.

"It's been long indeed. How have you been, aunty?"

"Awh, stop that. Just call me by my name, I don't want to feel old~" Rosalyne giggled and lightly punched your shoulder before holding your wrist and pulling you inside her house. Her house mostly looked the same, but there was something strangely missing that you couldn't pinpoint. She made you sit on the sofa while she brought some water and snacks for you.

"How is Ray?" that was her son's name.

"Oh, he's been fine. He's at school right now, I'm sure he'd be delighted to see you again!~"

You chatted away as you caught up with each other, you told her you are back to living her as you found a job and she seemed really happy to have you around again.

"How's uncle been? Will he be coming back anytime soon?" you asked in a casual manner, but the answer was unexpected.

"Rostam.... passed away 3 years ago. He died on a field mission."

You didn't know what to say. You observed her looking down with a sad look and touch her wedding ring, likely reminiscing about him. You apologized for speaking that but she assured it was fine, your parents never mentioned that he died 3 years ago otherwise you wouldn't have asked. You felt deeply saddened for her and wondered how she was handling things on her own all this time.

You went back to your place with a happier remark, you offered to help her whenever she required and promised to be there for her. You later on met her son in the evening and had dinner at her place, it felt just like old times for you and you were glad she was still here and you could meet her.

Milf!Rosalyne who works multiple jobs a week to make ends meet. The military provides for the housing out of respect for her husband's service, but she has to look after everything else on her own. She takes tuitions on the weekend and works as a receptionist in a hotel during the week, also doing some additional online work whenever she can.

She had wished to find a job related to her degree but all those jobs require long working hours away from home and she couldn't do that, her son was her first priority. She was fortunate to have a pretty face and a model-like figure even at her age, but it was also a curse sometimes in this field of work.

You ended up meeting her at her place of work one day, you had come there for a meeting. You were shocked to discover she had to work this kind of job now, you really wished to help her. You tried asking your boss if there was an opening but they were not hiring, and Rosalyne also denied due to the unsuitable work hours but she appreciated your thought.

Rosalyne also faced problems in dating life now. To no surprise, not many people were willing to get together with a 37 year old single mother. Some expressed disgust without even bothering to know what happened to her husband, while some were unwilling to take on the responsibilty of a child so soon. She had not moved on from her husband but she was trying for her son's sake, to give him a father. But none of the people she met made it easy for her.

It was a Saturday evening and you were planning to stay home to rest. You had been working a lot ever since you moved here and hadn't got much time for yourself, you even weren't able to meet Rosalyne as much as you had hoped to. An unexpected ring of your doorbell called you to the front door and you find none other than Rosalyne standing with a soft smile on her face.

"Are you free by any chance today, Y/n?"

"Oh, sure I am. Do you need some help?"

"Well.... want to hangout together at my place? We can order some food and just watch some movie or show if you'd like."

Your eyes widened in surprise at her invitation, you were ready to accept right away but didn't want to appear too eager.

"Ah, that would be great. But what about Ray?"

"I sent him to my mother's place for the weekend. He had been wanting to visit for some time."

You suddenly became nervous realizing you'd be alone with her at her house. You accepted and made your way to her apartment, you offered to bring some food out of respect but she assured you it was fine and that you can order whatever you like. You ordered some pizza and snacks, while Rosalyne also bought out the wine she had and offered you a glass.

Now, here you were sitting on her couch with wine in hand and watching some random movie you both agreed upon. You had not talked much all this time, you mainly exchanged some work stories and vented frustrations. Rosalyne shared some things about her son that happened to him at school, she always appeared so happy to talk about him. She really was a great mother.

Some time passed and more wine later, she was clearly tipsy. She leaned on your shoulder and was in a soppy state now as she started venting about how hard things have been for her in finding a new partner, and the constant harrassment she faces at work yet nobody is ready for a serious relationship as soon as they hear about her son.

"Tell me, Y/n.... what am I lacking? There's all these men who flirt with me all day but the moment I set up dates and reveal the truth, they all leave.... How is it so wrong for a 37 year old single mother to find someone new?!"

She was babbling in a drunken state while holding you. There was absolutely nothing lacking in her, she was perfect in your eyes and you wouldn't even think twice about dating her, heck even marrying her. You wanted to be there for her not just as a friend but more. But you had no idea if she ever saw you that way, or if she even liked women in the first place and how her son would react to that.

"I never wanted this, Y/n.... what did I do wrong? Ray doesn't deserve this, I want to give him a complete family.... I want to have a complete family.... But Rostam... he betrayed me...."

You were caught by surprise, "Betray you? What do you mean, Rosalyne?"

"He.... he cheated on me, I found out he cheated on me years ago after Ray was born. He hid it all this time.... I discovered this at his funeral.... I don't know what to think, I can't even remember him the same way anymore.... How could he?! What did I do to deserve this....?"

She was crying while holding you now. You felt anger rise in you hearing this secret, it was quite unbelievable to you he did that when you recall how lovey-dovey they used to be and Rostam seemed like a good man. Your desire to support and love her increased even more now, you couldn't bear seeing her in this state. So much happened to her while you were away, you wished you were here.

"No! Nothing is wrong with you and you are not lacking anything! You are beautiful and strong! You are an amazing mother, Ray loves you very much! You have been so resilient all this time, I actually admire you so much for doing everything on your own. I.... Please know I'll help you! In any way! Please don't put yourself down this way, Rosa!"

You chanted before hugging her tightly, trying to convery how serious you were and really wanted her to be well. You pulled away to look at her and saw her face reddened up as she gazed at you with a needy look before placing her hands on your shoulders and leaning close.

"Any way? Then.... date me, Y/n." You were shocked beyond belief but the next thing she did was worse. She leaned in and softly kissed you, it was a gentle kiss at first then you felt her push you down and straddle you then kiss deeper. You knew this was wrong, she was clearly drunk and swept away by her emotions. But the feeling of her lips on yours made you entranced, you have wanted to kiss her for so long.

"Yes... you will be good. Ray likes you too... I can explain to him.... Be with me, Y/n, please?"

She pulled you closer by your collar and went in for another kiss, you didn't expect to make out with her this way. You felt she was being desperate by choosing you this way, you could tell she likely didn't love you and wanted you just for her son's sake as you are the only one who gave her attention and expressed willingness. Rosalyne passed out before you could answer her, and you almost felt relieved.

Rosalyne apologized to you the next day for all her actions, she genuinely felt guilty for all the things she said and did. It gave you enough indication that she really didn't like you romantically and that you stood no chance. You forgave her rather easily, you really couldn't complain experiencing that. She saw you as a good friend and you'd try to maintain that.

However, your feelings started overwhelming you and you tried to make some distance from her for some time to be able to move on and remain a friend. You ended up ghosting her texts and calls, and also rejecting all her invites to spend time together by making up some excuse for work.

Rosalyne felt you were avoiding due to that day, and she hated that so much. You were the only one she had, she didn't realize when she started liking you romantically. She knew it was wrong of her to use you but she didn't mean to, she wanted to make amends and do things right. She couldn't bear being away from you.

"Y/n, may I borrow some rice?" Rosalyne came to your house one day asking for some rice like a good neighbor.

"O-Oh sure, come in." you subsconsciously let her inside and asked her to come to the kitchen. She watched you take out the rice then silently walked up to you and hugged you from behind, catching you off guard.

"R-Rosalyne?"

"I'm sorry.... I'm so sorry for that day, Y/n. I know I did something very wrong, but please don't punish me this way..... You have become so distant, so closed off, you avoid me so much. You can hate me all you want, but please don't leave me.... not you too, please...."

Her arms tightened around you and you could tell she was weeping. You hated seeing her in this state, you never wanted to make her cry.

"....I can never hate you, Rosalyne. And I'm not ignoring you because of that. It's just.... I like you. No, I love you. I love you very much, I have loved you for years. I loved you 6 years ago too.... I want to be there for you and help you, I really do. But... I need some time to move on and forget these feelings so that I can be a true friend for you...."

Rosalyne let go of the hug and enabled you to turn around to face her. Her eyes were filled with tears, a tear rolled down her cheek and you gently smiled then wiped it away and cupped her face.

"I don't expect you to love me, it's okay. But just.... give me some time. I'm not strong enough to move on from you if you keep doing these things...."

Rosalyne's heart skipped a beat and before she knew it, her body moved on it's own to push you towards the counter as her lips relentlessly seeked yours. Her arms wrapped around your neck and she passionately kissed you, this time she was completely sober and knew what she was doing. You kissed for god knows how long, you were a panting mess by the time she stopped.

".....I love you too, Y/n. I want to be together because I love you and not for Ray's sake. I want to spend the rest of my life with you...."

[celestie0]

MASSIVE gojo x reader fanfic rec (no spoilers)

ok i know a lot of my followers are gojo girlies and i just need to put yall onto this fucking fanfiction because i just read the latest release for it and i’m genuinely tweaking rn🧍🏻‍♀️

@lostfracturess ‘s amazing work called “symptoms & causes” - a medical au

[image pulled from her masterlist]

let me just…let me just try to even gather the reasons why you need to add this to your tbr lists (weekend is comin up too so perfect time)

characterization of gojo satoru.

gojo in this fic is characterized so fucking well, from chapter one. there are so many distinctive ways miss lostfractures goes about building his aura (word of mouth/reputation, dialogue, expository, primary interactions, secondary interactions, etc.) it reminds me of the show where gojo just has this energy to him that you can't tear yourself away from i picture him in this fic to be unrelenting, unforgiving, morally grey, with an undertone of softness yet still feral through it all,, basically gojo during shibuya arc LOL. i looove reading cute silly boy gojo fics sm (he’s so baby) but THIS fic explores the borderline wicked side of him that is so thrilling, unique, and rare to find i think in this fandom’s collection of works. it’s just so fucking good.

forbidden romance.

UGGHH i love stories w forbidden romance. in this one, it’s med student reader x professor gojo (additional power dynamics in that he’s a senior surgeon in her field and also a research mentor in her study of interest…TRIPLE THREAT DAMN). i love how miss lostfractures doesn’t shy away from reminding the reader that it’s wrong, and that they shouldn’t be doing this. that’s my fave part of forbidden romances like yesss remind me again why this is all so wrong but let’s still do it anyways LOL <333

reader’s voice.

i’ve LOVED reader since the beginning, so relatable, emotionally mature, all her flaws are so believable & her strengths are shown seamlessly. it’s just so much fun to read because i’ll literally have a thought like “hmm…that (something a character said/did) doesn’t sound very convincing” and then the next line will be something like “he didn’t sound very convincing” like!!! me and s&c reader?? we’re locked in like this fr🤞🏼 like gojo’s domain expansion fingers

escapism.

everything in this story feels so damn real it’s insane. the pacing is stunning, love the utilization of stacks of scenes that are sort of short but so concise, enough to be a smooth read but still descriptive enough to entirely transport you into the world that’s being built. cannot praise the writing in this story enough. also the variety of ways that scenarios are made that pull characters closer to one another?? so creative. as someone who works in a research lab, studied bio in college (some of the fkn biochem stuff that comes up in this fic gives me heart attacks lmfaooo pls im traumatized), and has worked in clinics/hospitals it just itches my brain so damn good. you’ll be convinced you’re a brilliant med student while you read this fic.

writing.

the writing is just. so. good. it’s so good. better than most PUBLISHED works i’ve read. i really can't say much other than that, you just have to go see for yourself.

—

if any of these reasons speak to you, i highly recommend you check the fic out. just a note tho it does have some dark themes but you can find all the tags/warnings on her page!

OK BYE

[maevebabyy]

CHANGE OF PERSPECTIVE

sophia laforteza x fem reader

a/n - first fic whoo!!!! sophia’s a performing arts teacher and reader is a basketball coach. i wrote this half asleep pls 😭😭

wc - 3.7k

the air in dream academy was full of tension as the school year kicked off with principal son announcing the reallocation of the school year’s budget in favour of the basketball team.

ms. sophia laforteza, the young but fiercely dedicated performing arts teacher, was known for her passionate commitment to the arts, having already won quite a few high-school performing arts awards despite her short time teaching at dream academy. so it was understandable why she had gotten frustrated when she first heard about the budget cuts.

while you, the varsity girls basketball coach and one of the phys-ed teachers, were all about winning games and boosting school spirit. you had built up and maintained the team’s impressive win-loss record during your time as head coach – winning state championships two years in a row now, making dream academy a distinguished school when it came to women’s basketball.

the two of you had been at odds for as long as anyone could remember, each believing their program deserved more funding and recognition for their efforts. at least, that’s what you thought it looked like on the outside. daniela, your baby sister, was the only one who you told about your (obvious) crush on the drama teacher.

-

it was unusual to say the least, sophia usually gave off a very cool and calm demeanour around her students, wanting to set a good example. but right now, sophia was livid. waving her hands around like she usually does when she’s worked up or excited, this time, it was the former. her students could only watch amusedly as they stretched out their muscles.

“this is ridiculous! how can they prioritize a sport over the arts?” she fumed to her students in the theater.

one of her students, lara – a high-school senior and daniela’s best friend, starts giggling at how worked up her performing arts teacher had gotten.

“damn, coach really does get you worked up, doesn’t she?”

a few other students giggle at lara’s observation. this, alongside many others, were one of the many perks of being a young teacher. sophia’s students felt like they were learning from an older sister, rather than a teacher. it made sense though, sophia was only 22 and leading a bunch of high-schoolers into the world of performing arts.

sophia huffed lightly, bringing her hands to her forehead as she rubbed it, “well, yes, lara, how does coach y/n deserve more funding? we killed it last year with our plays!”

lara stops a giggle from escaping, snorting in the process, “it’s not even a whole lot. dani told me they only received a little more to afford those new team backpacks they’ve been whining about. wait, shh though! It’s supposed to be a secret!”

the drama teacher rolls her eyes again, of course you’d spend the extra money on flashy new team backpacks. if it had been her it would have gone towards something more useful like new mic packs, or better props.

“a little goes a long way, lara.” sophia remarks, shaking her head.

another student voices out their opinion, a teasing grin on her face. “coach y/n seriously has a lot of influence on you, teach”

it was the highschool junior, megan, she was both a cheerleader and a part of the school’s performing arts club. a wider teasing grin appears on the redhead’s face, “sooo, enemies to-”

before the junior is able to finish her sentence, sophia quickly cuts her off, clapping her hands together.

“alright! enough stretching, run your lines for rehearsals!” a bright and wide smile on the drama teacher’s face as she purposefully ignores the tease she was about to receive.

-

meanwhile, you reveled in the news with your team, sharing the good news with your players. your focus solely on the upcoming season.

you gather your team around at the end of practice, your players keeping eye contact with you as you rounded everybody up. making eye contact with your baby sister, you tell her with your weird sibling telepathy not to pull anything funny to ruin the surprise.

“okay girls, that was a great practice! especially you yoonchae. you’re improving quickly” you grin widely, praising the korean girl. “in fact, all of you girls have been working really hard for this upcoming season.”

you gesture for one of your players, manon, the team captain, and the only other person to know about the surprise aside from daniela to come up and stand beside you.

with a wide grin of her own, manon reveals the new team bags you had hidden behind you in a box. “ta-da! coach actually got us those new team bags we’ve been talking about!”

you grin widely as the girls excitedly rushed forward to grab their own bag which donned their school colours and sported their number and last name on the bag. watching them try on the bag for themselves and count out how many pockets the spacious bag had.

“i assume you all like it then?” you chuckle, crossing your arms as you watch your team nod, shouting out their thank you’s.

“let’s have a good season this year, girls.” you grin.

-

a week had passed since then, and principal son had called in the both of you into his office. you sat across from sophia who was on her phone as you both waited for the principal to finish talking on the phone. the secretary in the middle of the lobby typing away on his computer, completing desk work.

waiting in the lobby with sophia was suffocating– but in a good way. sure, she might’ve sent you some weird questioning looks, but damn she’s pretty. her jet-black straight hair framing her sharp features perfectly, her perfect posture even when sitting down, the way her soft smile immediately warmed up the room when she found something funny on her phone. before you could keep studying her face, your attention is brought away from the drama teacher as you hear principal son’s voice who had just opened his door. “come in.”

walking behind sophia, you take the seat beside her as principal son sat in his office chair behind his desk in front of you two.

“i’ve got a special opportunity for you two.” he grins, eyeing the both of you before continuing. “we want to host a community workshop day for the younger kids in our high school’s area who may potentially end up enrolling in dream academy.”

principal son pauses to gauge our reactions, chuckling to himself as he sees the confused looks. “since you two run our two biggest programs, i want you two to work together on this. it will primarily revolve around the arts and sports, though primarily basketball in terms of sports since we do the best in that one.”

sophia speaks up from the chair beside you, “when exactly does this community day happen?”

“you two will have about a month to prepare.”

both of you immediately shot up your eyebrows in surprise. “a month?” you ask, eyes widened.

“you heard me clearly coach.” son chuckles to himself, “i’ll check in every once in a while.”

just as quickly as you and sophia were in that room, you suddenly find yourself back out in the lobby. you face sophia slowly, “so… a month?”

sophia groans, “don’t start-”

“we kinda have to…”

sophia silently curses, you were right. the two of you desperately needed to start brainstorming soon if she wanted a community day she could be proud of. “fine, swing by the mpr as soon as the bell rings at the end of the day.”

“but-”

“you don’t have basketball practice today do you?” sophia cuts in, leaving no room for argument.

you shake your head no weakly.

“okay, i’ll see you then.”

before you’re able to respond, sophia quickly walks away from you and towards the mpr. 

you hear a soft whistle behind you, coming from the secretary. “really got a thing for the feisty ones?”

you flush lightly, stuttering, “it’s not like that, sohey.” you take a moment to regain your composure, “besides, i think… self confident would be the more correct term here.”

-

eventually, the bell rings exactly at 3:30 and you find yourself already by the mpr doors, hesitating to go in for whatever reason.

“you got this y/n, c’mon, don’t be weird- it’s just a quick meeting, yep, with just the two of you-“

“what’re you doing n/n?”

you let out a quiet yelp as you are surprised by your baby sister who snuck behind you.

“nothing dani…”

daniela quirks an eyebrow, a smirk forming on her lips. “mhm… sure… just waiting by ms sophia’s door right?”

“dani? i don’t like that smirk-“

“you’ll thank me for this later!” in an instant, daniela pushes you into the mpr, giggling.

you stumble into the mpr, almost tripping. as you regain your balance you’re met with sophia’s questioning stare. feeling nervous under it, you feel the need to explain yourself.

clearing your throat, you reply. “didn’t wanna be late is all.”

“mhm. what was that scream outside? it sounded serious.” sophia raises an eyebrow, a small smile threatening to lift up.

“ah….” you’re silent for a moment. “there must’ve been a fight, totally.”

“and, as a phys-ed teacher, shouldn’t you stop them?”

“nah, where’s the character development in that?”

sophia huffs lightly, disgusing her small giggle before returning to that cold demeanor she’s used to keeping around you. “alright, come here, i’ve drafted some ideas for the community day.”

that afterschool evening had gone on for longer than the two of you expected. sophia surprisingly tolerating your presence for more than two hours. 

after tweaking and modifying the initial plan sophia came up with, you both finally agreed on something.

“this’ll work.” you grin warmly, unintentionally making eye contact with sophia, who was reciprocating your smile and gaze, but only for a moment before returning back to her stern self around you.

but wow— even if it was just for a moment you could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating momentarily there, the butterflies going berserk in your stomach. 

“better not mess this up, y/n” sophia scoffs.

admittedly, sophia was still hesitant to work together with you, but seeing as she had no choice, she accepted.

-

as the days rolled on, the community workshop day loomed ever closer. the tension between you and sophia had shifted; while you still had your disagreements, there was a sense of camaraderie slowly forming. you were finding common ground in your shared goal of making the event a success, even if you couldn’t quite shake the competitive edge.

one evening, as you helped out during a rehearsal, you caught yourself watching sophia again. she was guiding her students through a scene, her passion shining through every gesture. it was hard not to admire her—her energy, her dedication, the way she inspired those kids to be their best. you couldn’t help but think about how different she was from the cool, collected teacher everyone else saw. here, she was vibrant and alive, and it struck a chord deep within you.

“seriously, n/n,” daniela nudged you, breaking your train of thought. “you’re staring again.”

your little sister had started accompanying you to these rehearsals, wanting to get a ride home from you instead of taking the bus home.

you turned to her, feigning nonchalance. “i’m just observing.”

“observing? right. you’re practically drooling,” she teased, her voice light but full of mischief.

you groaned, brushing off her comments. “i’m not. and could you be quiet about it?”

“oh, please. everyone can see it, dear sister, you’re not subtle. just ask her out already,” dani insisted, a grin plastered across her face.

“not happening,” you shot back, though the thought had crossed your mind more than once. “she’s too focused on her students, and i’m… well, i’m the basketball coach.”

dani rolled her eyes. “you’re both teachers. just because you’re rivals doesn’t mean you can’t also be… whatever else.”

as you tried to come up with a witty retort, the rehearsal wrapped up, and the students began to disperse. sophia caught your eye, giving you a nod of acknowledgment.

“see? she’s looking at you,” your baby sister whispered, elbowing you in the side.

“shut up,” you replied, trying to suppress a smile.

“y/n! can you help me with this?” sophia called, gesturing toward a stack of props.

you obliged, walking over with a bit of hesitance. as you helped her carry them into a storage room and sort through the items, the atmosphere shifted again. “thanks for helping out,” she said, her tone warmer than usual. “it’s been nice having you around.”

“yeah, well, i figured it’d be good to lend a hand,” you replied, trying to keep your voice casual. “we’re in this together after all.”

sophia looked thoughtful for a moment, her gaze piercing yet soft. “i know we have our differences, but i appreciate your effort. i just want to make sure our students get a memorable experience.”

“i get that. i want the same for my team,” you said, hoping your sincerity showed. “maybe we can find ways to highlight both programs.”

a brief silence hung between you, the tension from earlier fading into something more comfortable. “that’s the plan,” she said, a hint of a smile creeping onto her lips. “we’re a team, after all.”

just then, the door swung open, and daniela reentered, eyes gleaming with mischief. “hey, i just had a thought—why don’t we mix things up at the community day? like a mini talent show where the basketball girls have to perform something artsy? we could host it in between the different workshops.”

sophia’s eyes lit up at the idea, while you felt your stomach drop. “what? no way—”

daniela cut you off, grinning. “think about it! a fun way to bridge the gap between your two programs! i know my big sister here would be more than willing to do whatever you want miss sophia!”

sophia seemed intrigued, leaning forward. “it could be a great way to showcase teamwork. and we could have them work together on the performances!”

“absolutely not,” you interjected, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “i’m not getting on stage.”

“come on, n/n! it would be hilarious! and i’m sure the other girls wouldn't mind” daniela insisted, nudging you playfully.

sophia chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “i think it sounds like a great idea.”

“yeah, well, you’re not the one who has to perform,” you muttered, crossing your arms defensively.

sophia’s laughter echoed through the room, making your heart race. “don’t worry, we can make it fun. besides, it’ll be great for school spirit!”

“fine, but only if i can do a slam dunk in the middle of my performance,” you shot back, joking.

“deal,” sophia replied, smirking.

-

with the date approaching in less than a week, the two of you began meeting more frequently. it was strange how much time you two spent together, and despite your initial hesitations, sophia found herself looking forward to those moments. each planning session revealed more layers to you—your humor, your dedication, and that rare softness that broke through your brash exterior.

one afternoon, while going over logistics for the event, you couldn’t help but ask, “so what’s your favorite part of teaching?” it felt like a risk to the two, stepping out of the bounds of your usual playful bickering.

sophia paused, her expression thoughtful. “honestly? it’s seeing the kids transform. watching them come out of their shells during a performance or find confidence in themselves. it’s like a light bulb goes off.”

you nodded, impressed. “that’s really cool. i can see how much they look up to you.”

sophia’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she brushed off the compliment. “thanks. but enough about me—what about you? what drives you as a coach?”

you shrugged, feeling a wave of sincerity wash over you. “winning is great, but it’s more about seeing the girls grow, too. watching them realize their potential, support each other, and build a team—that’s what i love the most.”

sophia smiles softly to herself, though it goes unnoticed by you. maybe there as more in common between you two than she thought.

-

on the eve of the event, you and sophia decided to meet one last time to finalize the schedule and make sure everything was ready for tomorrow. you both settled into the mpr, the tension between you now more comfortable, laced with a sense of friendliness.

“i can’t believe it’s finally happening tomorrow,” you said, looking around the room filled with props and equipment. “feels weird.”

“yeah, i just hope it all goes smoothly,” she replied, biting her lip, her brows furrowing in concern.

“you’ve worked hard. the kids love you, and the performances will be amazing. trust yourself,” you encouraged, your tone sincere.

sophia glanced at you, her expression softening. “thanks, y/n. that means a lot coming from you.”

just then, a loud crash echoed from the back of the mpr as a student accidentally knocked over a stack of props, causing both of you to jump.

“great! just what we need before a big event,” you said, rushing over to help.

as you both started picking up the scattered items, your hands brushed against each other. the moment lingered, and you both froze for a heartbeat before quickly pulling away, a rush of heat spreading across your cheeks.

“uh… sorry,” you muttered, clearing your throat. “guess we’re a bit clumsy tonight.”

“yeah, clumsy,” she echoed, though a soft smile tugged at her lips. “just a lot on our minds.”

you chuckled, relieved at the lightness returning to the moment. “right. what’s our first activity again?”

sophia reached for the clipboard, flipping through the schedule. “we start with some icebreaker games before splitting into workshops. your girls will lead a few drills, and then we’ll have the mini talent show later.”

“can’t wait to see my team actually do this,” you chuckle.

“don’t sell them short. you might be surprised,” she replied, a teasing glint in her eye. “they might just steal the show.”

“or bring it crashing down,” you countered with a laugh.

-

the day of the community workshop finally arrived, buzzing with excitement and nerves. the gym was transformed into a vibrant hub, with colourful decorations and stations set up for various activities. you could hear the chatter and laughter of kids filling the space, making it hard to believe that just a month ago, you and sophia had been at odds over budget cuts.

as the event kicked off, you looked over at sophia, who was in her element, directing her students with a flair that made you admire her even more. the icebreaker games were a hit, with kids mingling and having fun, but the real challenge loomed ahead—the mini talent show.

the talent show began, and the kids showcased their various talents—singing, dancing, and acting, each performance more impressive than the last. sophia cheered enthusiastically for each act, her passion evident.

when it was finally your team’s turn, you could feel the weight of expectation. you had arranged for a fun skit that would highlight teamwork, incorporating elements of basketball with a comedic twist. you could see the nervousness in your players' eyes as they shuffled onto the makeshift stage, but you also saw the determination flicker behind them.

“okay, girls! remember what we practiced” you chuckle lightheartedly, hoping to boost their spirits.

the skit started off a bit shaky, but as your players found their rhythm, the laughter from the audience built. you caught a glimpse of sophia’s delighted expression, her laughter ringing out above the crowd. it made your heart race—she was enjoying this, and you wanted to keep that smile on her face.

-

eventually, the night came to a close as parents and their children began filing out of the gym after a successful event. you and sophia found yourselves amidst the remnants of the community workshop. the atmosphere buzzed with the afterglow of laughter and excitement, but now it was just the two of you, surrounded by colourful props and decorations.

“alright, everyone, you can head home! great job today!” you called out, shooing away the last few lingering students. “seriously, don’t worry about the cleanup. we’ve got it covered.”

sophia smiled, watching the students file out, their faces still glowing from the event. once the doors swung shut, a comfortable silence settled over the gym. you glanced over at her, taking in the way she brushed a stray hair behind her ear, a hint of relief in her expression.

“looks like we’re officially on cleanup duty,” you said, picking up a few scattered props.

“yeah, but it was worth it,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with the remnants of excitement. “everyone really had a great time.”

you hear sophia giggle softly, pausing her clean up duties. “you know, i really thought we wouldn’t be able to pull this off. i practically hated your guts a month ago.”

you chuckled lightheartedly in response, “i was a bit nervous at first, too. you were so closed off before this workshop thing.” you pause, picking up a few more props. “I’m glad we moved past it though.”

she rolled her eyes, but there was a soft smile on her lips. “well, i guess you’ve seen a different side of me. and maybe i’ve seen a different side of you too.”

as you both continued cleaning up, the atmosphere shifted. it felt lighter, charged with a new kind of understanding. “so, what do you think we should do next?” you asked, trying to sound casual while your heart raced.

sophia looked thoughtful. “maybe we could plan another event? we could make it a tradition.”

“sounds great,” you agreed, your mind racing with possibilities. then, gathering your courage, you added, “or… we could hang out outside of school. grab a bite to eat together sometime?”

her eyes widened slightly, and you could see the gears turning in her head. “are you asking me out, coach?”

“maybe i am,” you said, stepping a little closer, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

a slow smile spread across her face, illuminating her features. “i’d like that. i’ll take you up on that offer, y/n.”

a/n - i got lazy at the end sorry LOL

[twstowo]

I've seen fan art about what if the reader/yuu look like one of the bullies from Azul's past? I can no longer get the idea out of my head.

What makes it worse is that Azul loves them, but he also can't stand them because of his memories of the bully who looks like them.

♡︎This felt personal for a moment or two.

♡︎Also, what Fanart Anon??? Don't just leave me curious in here!!! I want to see what are you talking about.

He could spend most of his day just staring at you, wondering how such a wonderful person could have such a face. He longs to spend time with you, to show you how generous his soul is by offering you things no one else could ever give. He wants you to see how much better he is compared to all the other students at Night Raven College. He craves your attention, sending Floyd and Jade to deliver small gifts in the name of the Mostro Lounge.

But as soon as you approach him, and his mind registers how much you resemble one of his past bullies, something shifts. His thoughts lock in, and he can't stop the glare or the venomous words that spill from his mouth. He no longer resembles the kind Azul who gave you presents and offered you free meals at the Mostro Lounge. Instead, he becomes the cruel and lonely octomer who used to spend his days reading and brewing potions in the cold depths of the Coral Sea, far away from the other kids his age who mocked him for how he looked. He's filled with anger, angry that the world stole the childhood we only get to enjoy once, angry that he was always the one being ridiculed, angry that he was never anyone's first choice.

But you… you don’t treat him like that. You’ve never made fun of him, you’ve never chosen someone else over him. You've only been kind.

Every time you approach, his chest tightens with conflicting emotions. Part of him wants to retreat into the cold, dark shell he's built for himself over the years, while the other part, the softer part that craves connection, wants to reach out, to bask in your kindness. But he can’t let himself do that. Not when you look like them. Not when you remind him of everything he once despised.

He doesn’t understand why you bother to talk to him. Someone so perfect, so charming, what could you possibly want from him other than to mock him? You might think you're different, but he can see it in your eyes, you’re just like the others.

Yet, even when he hurls all those horrible things at you, you don’t flinch. You stand by his side, unwavering. You see right through him, and he hates that more than anything.

It takes him months to slowly open up, to crawl out of the hole he retreats into every time you walk by. Gradually, he stops sending Floyd and Jade to deliver his gifts for him. Instead, he tries to give them to you himself, but more often than not, he gives up halfway. He’ll stand there, flowers in hand, pacing the VIP room, wondering if it’s really worth it.

But you’re worth the struggle. He repeats those words over and over, convincing himself that you’re different, that you’re someone who will be there for him no matter what.

With one final deep breath, he opens the door to the VIP room, telling himself he won’t back down this time. He won’t do anything else until he gives you the flowers and finally apologizes for all the times he’s been so rude when all you ever wanted was to be his friend

[yuumcbr]

A human's curiosity for an unknown god

Okay, this was in my notes and I didn't know whether to post it or not.

This is the deity AU by @ceruleancattail, I wrote this based on their amazing stories.

I think Leona might have become a bit OC, there's a POV switch.

You are a History student and recently your class started studying Greek history. One of your teachers decided to give some classes about the history of some gods and asked you to choose one of them and do a seminar.

In your research you found something on an internet wiki about Falena, the God of the Sun. In Greek culture, he was as famous as the god Neige and the god Cheka.

But what you found on the wiki caught your attention, it was a god you had never heard of, God Leona, the younger brother of the god of the Sun.

You clicked to see if you could find more about him and discovered that Leona was known as the God of the Moon. You found it interesting, this would mean that Leona and Falena looked after opposite areas of the world.

However, unlike what you imagined, Leona was considered a bad god who haunted humans by bringing night.

I mean, back then it was normal to think that night was something bad, since it was dark and cold (and since candles were a luxury item and there was no electricity, it must have been a little scary).

But in a few wikis on the internet there was information about how Falena loved her little brother and that the god Cheka idolized him above all else.

Cheka might be known as the God of innocence and childhood, but you were sure that Falena would push him away if the God Leona was really bad company.

Maybe, just maybe, the information was never complete (a plot hole?).

After much, much research and your interest in this mysterious god grew, you decided that he would be the subject of your college research.

Your classmates said that they would research more well-known Gods and that you should do the same, but your interest in the unknown always spoke louder.

As time went by and the deadline for your assignment approached, you noticed that it was getting harder and harder to find anything about this god, and sometimes you even talked in front of the computer, begging for information.

"Come on Leona, show up!" or "Why is it so hard to find anything about you, Leona?"

Over time, you found one or two books with some superficial information, and when that happened, you said it was your lucky day. Tired of always searching the same internet and all the books in the college library, you decided to abandon this method and look elsewhere, and what better place would there be than in the country of the ancient religion itself.

With a long weekend coming up, you looked for a temple of Leona, that way you could research it more in depth.

No matter how much you looked for any temple, nothing appeared. So you decided to go to a city where you would find a temple of Falena and Cheka, hoping to find a temple of Leona nearby.

You bought your ticket, rented a hotel and calmly waited for the big day.

The more followers a god has, the more power he has to use magic and perform miracles.

Just the fact that a human visits your temple or a place built to honor you is enough for him to be able to cure incurable diseases.

Constant prayer was even better, since this would signify faith in a god. It would give you the ability to move mountains.

However, if you wished to never meet this god or for another god to protect you from him, the god would begin to have a negative energy, meaning that if this god used magic, bad things would happen.

Leona thought that when he became known as the god of the moon, he would be as worshiped as his brother. However, several humans distorted his story to attract more followers to Falena.

And little by little, all who followed him were condemned and he could do nothing about it, since his magic was too negative to help them and this would only make the situation worse.

After the anger of having those who trusted him leave and having his feelings shattered. He gave up on ever having a follower again.

Centuries passed and several gods lost their followers to time and countless were resurrected.

No matter how many gods were forgotten, there was always someone who quoted them to say something and that was enough for their legacy to continue existing.

Leona had almost no moments where his legacy was remembered and of those few moments, most described him as a bad and bitter god.

He gave up on seeing what happened in the human world, just lying down and relaxing for eternity.

Sometimes he felt his chest tighten with something bad or a short feeling of goodness and he knew it was just another one of the few moments when someone remembered him.

Leona ignored it, never wanting to see what they talked about behind his back.

One day when Leona was playing chess alone, that distressing feeling appeared again and it made him angry.

"Tch, humans should learn to think a little with their heads instead of believing everything they see."

And as if this human was able to hear him, the feeling gradually improved, bringing a small joy.

This made Leona stop for a moment, holding a pawn in her hand and thinking deeply.

A ghost of a smile appeared when she understood, but she doesn't think it's worth checking, his game is more interesting than a short-lived thought.

However, the feeling lasted a few more hours before it went away.

The next day, Leona had dinner with Falena, Cheka and his sister-in-law at Falena's request.

"So Leona, what good have you been up to?"

His sister-in-law asked, trying to start a conversation.

Playing with the vegetables on his plate, the Moon God stared at his sister-in-law.

"Nothing much, just the same as always."

"Oh mom, yesterday there was a soul researching Unca!"

Cheka said excitedly, the god of innocence and childhood was always happy when a human was nice to his uncle.

Leona looked at his nephew, maybe yesterday's soul found him while researching about Cheka or his brother.

"Oh that's nice! It's not every day we get good news like this, why don't we celebrate?"

His brother said excitedly. He knows in reality they just want him to get out and interact with other gods.

"No, I'll pass. It would be ridiculous to celebrate every time someone remembers the existence of a god."

"Oh come on Leona, it's been a while since you've accompanied us to a party"

Falena insisted Leona highly doubts that the other gods would come anyway, he doesn't want to hear Ruggie laugh at the news of a party because of a human quote.

Dinner was over and before Leona could reach his resting place, his previous feelings returned.

Now there were more people talking about him, some curious and others more disinterested.

The lion-like god stopped walking, the conflicting thoughts of whether to go look at these humans or not fighting among themselves.

Apparently, some of these humans didn't seem very friendly towards him.

It would be a matter of time before that would disappear and he would fall into oblivion again.

However, contrary to Leona's thoughts, day after day, a human would return to want to know more about him.

He supposed that on the days when there were more people thinking about him, it was because the human he was thinking about frequently commented on his discoveries with his friends.

Not that he would admit it, but he was starting to get scared that the calming feeling in his chest would stop, that this curious mortal soul would stop being so interested in him.

What made him finally look at this human and give up the fear of oblivion was a prayer.

"Come on Leona, show yourself."

It wasn't a prayer, but it would qualify as one.

Leona was dozing off at the moment you made this unconscious prayer, the lion's eyes opened with the wave of power that ran through his body. Sitting up from where he was lying, Leona looked at his hands and gave a heartfelt laugh.

"How far will humans go for their curiosity?"

Opening a kind of magic bubble, he saw you for the first time.

You were sitting on a chair looking at a thin illuminated box, with some attention the god noticed that it was some kind of research.

He remembers Cheka mentioning long ago about thin boxes that work much like the magic bubble of gods, but less powerful.

He saw you put your head on the table.

"Why can't I find anything, not a single piece of additional information."

When you turned your gaze to the strange box, he saw the information about him disappear and go to Falena.

Your lips pursed in disgust at this action. In retaliation, you sighed and went back to thinking about him.

'Why is it so difficult to find anything about Leona? The few mentions about him oscillate between saying that he was good and evil.'

"Maybe if I…." The human in front of her began to research his temples. Leona doubted that he would find any that were still standing.

All of his temples (which weren't many) were destroyed a long time ago.

The days went by and your improvised requests to know more about him gradually increased your power. You didn't do it on purpose, you just talked to yourself, sometimes and it resulted in a kind of prayer, but it boosted your ego anyway.

He watched your day to day life and saw how you researched countless gods, but you didn't follow any of them.

Apparently you studied in a place that taught about various gods, religions and the history of the world. Interesting to say the least, seeing so many humans willing to learn about different gods and have an open mind to understand the past and present.

Leona liked to help you sometimes. Everything he did you would consider a stroke of luck. For your colleagues, you definitely had a guardian angel.

Leona always laughed when someone said that. You literally had a god who did many things for you. But in return, he always waited for her to seek him out.

It's fair, isn't it? Herbivore!

He helps you in your daily life and in return you ask to know more about him and feed his power.

In case you focused on something else or had another study you wanted to do for fun, Leona would give you some time.

However, if you dared to take too long to go back to researching about him, certain incidents would get in your way and lead you to the book with something about him that was closest.

Nothing too bad, just the wind blowing all your research away, or a heavy rain that would make you go back to the library to avoid getting wet.

When Leona noticed that you were looking for a temple of his near one of Falena or Cheka on the day I was free. He used his magic to change the research on your weird glowing box that you called PC and showed a temple of Farena and Cheka that there was one of his fallen temples nearby.

And maybe some other information that would make you go to him.

Seeing you excited about the trip and hoping that you would find something about Leona only fueled his arrogance.

Sometimes he liked to think of you as a follower and how everyone would react when they saw that someone believed in him again.

"Leona, there better be something about you in this place or I'll strangle you!"

A smile appeared on the lion's face, it was amusing to see a weak and defenseless human like you irritated when you didn't find anything new about him.

"Don't worry Herbivore, you'll find much more than just information!"

English is not my first language, I used Google Translate.

I fixed some mistakes, but there must still be one or two left, sorry about that.

Thanks for reading this far, feel free to say something [I love to talk (◇w◇)].

[yonkokraven]

Horikoshi is a terrible writer

God, I wish I was kidding, these last couple of days I've been analyzing the whole damn manga and I finally understood where this guy is going with it and how it fails.

I'm going to make the post with spoilers and talk in random order about different things that he fail at, because honestly it's unthinkable to make an order in this manga chaos.

The League Without Goals:

I really can't understand how people look at this group and say "they have a plan" or "they're good antagonists" when neither of those things are true.

The league was founded by Tomura wanting to show the world that they live in a false peace, at first he wants to kill All Might for being the symbol that brought this false era of peace...

The claim is fair, I'm not going to lie to you, but after the Stain arc, instead of reflecting on how he can show the danger to society, he goes a step further and decides to destroy all the heroes, and the league "adopts" Stain's mentality with its new members.

You think it could improve, I mean, here they should tell us the reasons of the new members of the league about their mentality towards the heroes, but no, nothing, absolutely nothing.

Dabi introduces himself stating that he's there for Stain, Toga too, Spinner obviously too, but they don't reveal why they agree with Stain.

As time goes by we see glimpses of everyone's personality and past, and the first thing that comes to mind when I think back to the entire history of the villains, is that they don't have a group spirit here, in fact, not even a hint of personalities, Dabi and Toga are serial killers, Spinner is a mutant and Compress is a thief. Twice is a disturbed guy who lost his place in society by no longer being able to control his quirk, but he also has no qualms about kidnapping and killing children and god, Magne, Mudstard, Muscular and Moonfish are forgettable

The league's goal changes from "Show society the false peace" to "Let's do whatever we want" after the liberation army arc, here there is no direct reason, but Tenko says that he wants to destroy everything that breathes.

They show us their pasts but there is not really a more appropriate answer to "these people are crazy"

Spinner, who is the one with his head on his shoulders, should question why but he doesn't, He don't tell us what he wants to do other than "follow Shigaraki", and then in the final war they put him almost into a Nomu and leading an army of mutants without any plan of what to do when the world is his, there are no community plans, nothing, just find Kurogiri and destroy Japan.

Toga was deprived her entire life of living the way she wanted and she wants to do that, but when Twice dies she wonders if the heroes don't see her as a person when she can't even wonder why the heroes would see her that way, she kills people and animals without any shame and is plotting to destroy the world.

Dabi wants dad's attention, that's why he's going to destroy everything dad built including his mother and siblings, but he could go one by one, first Natsuo, then Fuyumi, then Rei, then the "Masterpiece" Shoto, or better yet, broadcast the video of Endeavor after the battle against High-End Hood, but instead he waits for the damn climax of the story to try to detonate himself. Not only could he have saved Twice and didn't, but he also has reasons to follow Stain but still sticks to "let's kill whoever gets in our way"... and that's it.

Tomura already came to this story in an extremist way and has reasons to hate society, at the beginning of the story I thought his motivation was going to be to reveal the imperfections of civilians and heroes, but his motivations grow to commit acts of terrorism to ACADEMY STUDENTS. And they are not even varied, it is the same academy and the same damn class

And when I thought that Horikoshi could not make it any emptier, AFO reveals that he always planned to take his body and orchestrated everything that happened to Tenko. AND THE WORST THING IS THAT HE DOESN'T EVEN REFLECT AFTER THAT, IF IT WERE UP TO HIM HE WOULD DESTROY EVERYTHING ANYWAY.

How do Hori expect me to feel bad about their defeats and deaths? They literally grew up in the opposite way to how they should have, and that's when I realized: Hori didn't want to give this group of clowns any redemption at any point.

Before you ask me "then why did Horikoshi make Midoriya, Uraraka and Shoto want to save them?"

No, here Horikoshi is writing 2 things, but he writes them so badly that the fandom interprets something totally different:

1-A hero is a human being, and villains born in their mistakes: The members of the league, if we look at their origins first, arise from the fault of people (not just heroes

Toga must be one of many who has their biology affected by their quirk, at no time do we have reference to the fact that there are specialized centers to help this type of people, because if that were the case, her parents would have accompanied their daughter in that way instead of repressing her.

Spinner is a mutant, so he hasn't grown up in a conventional way (as we're told, he was always alone). But that's the incomplete picture, being a mutant and following Stain's ideology, you add 2+2 and notice that Spinner suffered mistreatment even from heroes, but it's something he doesn't mention, and Horikoshi didn't delve into either his history or the mutant plot.

Dabi is the son of an arranged marriage (know how to differentiate it from a forced marriage) and that's already a lot to say, but his origin resonates with Stain's words about heroes only seeking fame and power. If the top heroes didn't exist or worked differently, things in the Todoroki family would have been different.

Tomura is the mark of an imperfect society, as his problems are not only his own, they come from generations ago. His grandmother left his father for adoption after his grandfather's death, and there is already a big red flag about the safety between heroes.

Then, his father grows up hating heroes because he never knew about the danger that his mother and he were in. And he hits his son every time he says the word "hero" just because he never knew how to properly deal with his father's death or his mother's abandonment.

And after what happened to his family, people look the other way hoping that a hero might appear, when that is not the job of a hero, it is something that everyone can do. Tomura marks the total and combined result of a society that has made heroes into nothing more than a service instead of people, while people simply go on with their lives.

Society in general after the dawn of power remains the same: discrimination, power and ignorance continue to be the daily life of people.

The biggest problem? is that Horikoshi shows us the league at first wanting to point out these injustices, but little by little they get to "let's destroy everything because Tomura is upset."

2- The origin of true heroes

The arcs that resonate the most with the soul of the manga are Uraraka and Hawks' arcs, two of which in my opinion are the best in the work

Uraraka enters the academy with the wrong intentions, but her heart is in the right place, she wants to help people and little by little she realizes something that many people ignore, that heroes and villains are also people.

Hawks is trained directly in the commission as a human weapon, but he does not fight against this because his desire is to be a hero, as he grows up between so much training and work, he realizes that despite being a hero, he is not allowed to be a person, and this is reflected in all the other heroes thanks to his phrase "I just want a world where heroes have free time"

Uraraka is the one who initiates the change to society by asking the civilians to let Midoriya rest in the academy, the civilians are scared but notice for the first time that the heroes are not in good shape either.

And they are not even heroes yet, they are children who still have the spirit to stand in front of the bullets when they should be crying for what happened, they lost teachers and classmates, in addition to being mutilated by people older than them.

In these epilogue chapters, civilians and heroes began to work shoulder to shoulder after this event and the battle in which Midoriya gave his all to prevent everything known from disappearing, and he succeeded by very little.

In chapter 429 we see a child who escaped from hell, and for the first time a civilian helps someone without having to request support from a hero, and it is the same woman who did not help Tenko years ago who still carries the guilt.

But what is the problem with this point?

Two small details, one being that Horikoshi isn't giving dialogue to those who started this change, and if he did, he did it incorrectly.

Uraraka feels bad for not being able to save someone who didn't want to be saved, when she doesn't reflect on how Toga got to that point of no return, or what made the heroes get to where they are now

Midoriya calms her down by telling her that she's his heroine (which isn't bad at all) but it's a very short dialogue for two characters who saw through all the flaws of this system and fight to change that same system for the better.

and Hawks is in a position to restructure the hero system for the better based on the things he knows, taking a correct step in creating a Top that is defined by the actions in the place of power... BUT YOU DIDN'T ELIMINATE THE OLD TOP? ARE YOU SERIOUS?

And now I know why he doesn't do it, because of someone who has taken up more than enough pages in this work, the damn Katsuki Bakugo, another damn symbol of the old society that glorifies power over heroic actions.

Horikoshi himself didn't know what to do with the character beyond the first tests arc and HE SHOWS IT, because it is so contradictory with this character and everything that surrounds him in a disgusting way and the fandom doesn't want to accept it.

He literally doesn't get any attention when he does wrong, when he attacked Kurogiri with Kirishima, when he acts arrogant at the sports festival, when he hits Midoriya at the final exams and verbally abuses him in front of everyone, when at the camp he ignores Mandalay's instructions.

There is only one consequence for him in the manga, ONE, AND THAT IS THAT HE FAILS AN EXAM AND THAT'S IT.

Then he has a nervous breakdown saying "it's my fault that All Might retired" when he doesn't reflect on the danger he put his teammates in or the way he acts.

Here everyone is useless when it comes to Bakugo; Aizawa lets him go with a pat on the arm when he tries to attack Midoriya, 13 should have reported Bakugo and Kirishima to the principal after Kurogiri, Aizawa justifies Bakugo's behavior to heroes who are obviously outraged by his attitude during the festival, All Might ignores that his disciple bled from a punch from Bakugo and also that Bakugo almost killed him in the team tests.

When he is kidnapped, no one points out that he disobeyed a direct instruction in an emergency like the camp, instead Aizawa grabs a microphone and says "He's a great hero."

And in the provisional license exams, the Commission should have intervened and called him to attention, or at least Aizawa, but NOTHING.

Horikoshi makes him absent for a couple of arcs and then Bakugo reappears at the cultural festival where he doesn't change a cent, he just plays the drums, then he passes the provisional exams making the minimum effort possible while Todoroki, Utsushimi and Yoarashi do all the work with the children, and he tells the leader of the children "don't be an idiot" and that's it.

Then the Endeavor arc, he sneaks into Midoriya and Todoroki's internships and disrespects half the world, again without consequences and his appearance in this arc is to justify the disaster of power increase in the next arcs, wasn't it that he had already mastered his quirk? wasn't he a prodigal?

Then there's the war and he only serves as a human shield, receiving a lethal wound and SURVIVING to then wake up in the hospital and ignore that everyone is injured or in mourning and start screaming.

Then in the Dark Deku arc he mocks Izuku who is at his lowest point and makes the emptiest apologies I've read in a manga, with an apology comes a change and HE doesn't change.

His death and resurrection is totally useless to the plot other than to nerf (not kill) Edgeshot, who turns from a paper man into a surgery man to repair his heart and vital organs that are shown to have EXPLODED BY SHIGARAKI'S PUNCH.

He gets up and fights All For One at his weakest point and eliminates him, which has no real value because AFO then possesses Shigaraki anyway. And to make this more regrettable Bakugo KILLS KUROGIRI WHO WAS ON HIS SIDE.

What makes me the most angry is that Izuku is losing OFA and HE IS THE ONE CRYING

At this last point Midoriya has already completely lost the spotlight because Horikoshi never tires of inflating the Gary Stu that is Bakugo. And God forbid Midoriya to do even a little of what Bakugo did.

Midoriya at the end of each arc has no recognition, in fact, the recognition that Horikoshi gives him is reduced as the arcs go by

The story started with Midoriya saying that this would be like him "he became the greatest hero" and in the last arc he changes it to "we all became the greatest heroes" and it doesn't feel like a true victory once they achieve it, because Midoriya is not even the shadow of what he was.

With Horikoshi's decision to preserve the previous Top of Heroes it is obvious that he will give it to Bakugo, it is a worthless title because it is not defined by heroism, but by statistics that come from power and solved cases.

and this last one ruins Endeavor's ending even more

Speaking of Endeavor, he doesn't have his family anymore, he already lost his position, he's disabled and his money won't be his anymore, since he's going to put it at the disposal of his children. I was wondering if Horikoshi would make him face something legally but with everything that's happened I think it would have been the same result, with him paying monthly damages to his family.

and his family, god, what a family.

Rei needed more introspection and perspective on the situation, especially with Shoto and Touya if she was going to be included in the final battle. And yes, she stays with Endeavor, good for some and bad for others, but I want to know what led her to that, Horikoshi didn't justify it.

Fuyumi was fired not because of Endeavor's abuse, but because of the things Touya did. Again, this information is useless without a proper explanation. What information do you want to leave me with, that she got a new job? Will she work at the UA library or what?

Natsuo will be a Kotaro 2.0 because of his attitude, and honestly I never really liked him, especially because he didn't put any energy into getting to know Shoto or trying to reconcile with Touya after the final battle.

Shoto... poor Shoto, it feels like he was orphaned after the last family talk. In fact it feels disconnected from the story since the Dark Deku arc.

Well, I only have to talk about Eraser, because I already pointed out everything, empty villains, Midoriya's lack of introspection, Bakugo Katsuki's superfluous character... and there's this incapable who must be Horikoshi's self-insert.

Shouta Aizawa, aka Eraserhead, underground hero and the worst teacher in the known universe.

This guy never knew what he did, and just like Horikoshi, he tipped the scales towards Bakugo in every situation he could. He forced his students to give their all, but he didn't help at any time in the evolution of their powers... WHILE HE WAS TRAINING SHINSO.

He's not a teacher, he's just a security measure in case a quirk gets out of control, nothing more, and he even does wrong, he ties up students with his capture weapon and attacks them with his quirk threatening expulsion in any situation that bothers him

Present Mic points this out and many other things but is continually silenced by Aizawa and the fandom, even worse

The Fandom ships them.

and since we're mentioning the fandom, this is one of the worst fandoms in the universe.

90% of them seem to have gotten the story wrong and don't have a cent of criticism towards Bakugo or the league, and don't value the moments of the manga in the proper way.

There can't be a second without them believing that this is Shoujo, because they focus on Bakugo and Deku in the same panel and take it completely out of context (a bad habit that Rukasu created by translating the leaks absolutely wrong on purpose).

Now everyone is angry with Horikoshi not because he wrote a story in the most absurd way possible, but because the league of assassins did not have a happy ending and they just discovered that this was never a shojo.

Horikoshi was right to fear that the manga would be cancelled, because he clearly excels at drawing, not writing. Now we're getting a fan-made Attack of Titan Requiem 2.0 of Bakugo and the league making this twenty times worse than it already was.

I've also noticed that there are some creative people who are writing arc by arc either on tumblr or ao3, which gives me some faith that this nightmare is bearable.

Well, I read opinions, but not from fans of Bakugo, BKDK or the League of Villains.