#and it didn't stop him from being a monster

[amourluvie]

◟✿" you.. comeback right..? " Mr crawling x reader . . .ᐟᅟ

Synopsis . . .ᐟ you decided to leave the other world,and aswell as mr crawling.

notes . . .ᐟ I am killing myself after writing this googbye cruel world

character . . .ᐟ mr crawling from homicipher

Suffocating- that's what it felt being trapped in this world,full of monsters and danger.

You were tired of running,room after room trying to find a escape to go back to your reality and finish this neverending nightmare.

Atleast there was someone that protected and cared about you - mr crawling was his name. Or the name you had given him.

He was different from the others,he was like a shield that would protect you no matter what.

Gave you headpats and reassured you when you needed it.

Was there for you when nobody could do it.

right now,he isn't here anymore- and your suffering from getting hurt by Mr bigface.

But that didn't stop you from running as fast you could,no matter how tired your limbs were.

As you stopped to catch your in some eerie hallway,you hear a familiar giggle coming up behind you.

It was him! It was mr crawling!

You quickly turned around to face him,feeling happy again now that you had finally found eachother.

A smile appeared on his face- an hauntingly beautiful one.

"you back!!" He shouted at you,if his long hair didn't cover up his eyes,they definitely would have glint up with love and affection.

As he immediately crawled closer to you,and you sit down to take some rest and make up for the time when you weren't with him.

He started to gently pet your head,as you leaned into his strangely comforting touch,head resting on his chest.

You then realised that it's time to get up since you have rested enough and have enough energy to find a exit again.

As you get up mr crawling looks at you curiously, as you replied "I need to go..." Your voice barely an whisper,as you start to walk away,him following you from behind just like he first did when you guys first met.

Hallway after hallway,you finally find something that appeared to be a elevator- you wondered if it could sent you back to the real world.

You glanced at mr crawling-he returned your gaze back,eyeing your every movement.

should I really go? You thought.

Then you decided to leave for good. The longer you stay here,the longer you slowly began to not feel human anymore

Pressing the buttons on the elevator,as it opens quickly to your suprise since you thought it was broken.

You take a deep breath and sighed. And then looked over to mr crawling for the last time,guilt washing over you as you try to hold back tears.

Mr crawling just stares at you in confusion,wondering why you look sad.

It hurted even more after seeing him being not aware your leaving him forever.

You slowly step into the elevator,gaze still stuck on mr crawling as the elevator closes.

You were his everything. But mr crawling will wait for you even it takes forever,he will forever love you and cherish you for eternity.

[lazyjellyfish300]

H-hey mootie

So it’s my birthday this week

So if you would make a blurb about drider!Miguel killing readers shitty husband then fucking her 🕷️

I would love it 🥺🥺🥺

Yes it’s Halloweeny that’s cause I didn’t have the energy to write it myself no matter the word count or format I know you can do it Justice!! Love ya!!

YES U CAN MY WONDERFUL MOOT. 🎉🎂 Dedicated to the amazing moot 🖤 HAPPY BIRTHDAY ILYYY 🕸️🕷️ @cullen-rutherford-wifey

Huge thanks to my moot adqui for the Spanish translation help, and to @politemenacephd for the inspiration and their flawless Drider!Miguel smut in Arachnophilia that helped me a ton with this fic. 🖤

can I be him

CW: MINORS DNI, X FEM!READER, MONSTERFUCKING, SMUT, P IN V, LOTS OF CUM, NIPPLE PLAY, LIGHT BONDAGE, SPIT, BREEDING, CREAMPIE, ANAL PLAY(idk if that's what it's called) EDGING, DRIDER!MIGUEL, ANGST, MUTUAL PINING, SLIGHTLY STALKER ISH BEHAVIOR, GRAPHIC BLOOD AND VIOLENCE, DOMESTIC DISPUTE, YOU HAVE A SHITTY HUSBAND, MURDER, INFIDELITY, A DARKER PIECE PLS PLSSSSS MIND THE WARNINGS.

Words 6.1k

Miguel shouldn't be doing this. But he can't help it. It was wrong to watch you like this. To want you like this. 

The warm glow cast by the screen floating in front of him softened his chiseled features as he gazed longingly at you through the portal of dimensions that kept you apart. 

A gorgeous, living variant of his own version of you that he could not save. The only one out of thousands he had come across. And believe that when he first lost you, his unfathomable grief kept him searching, scouring, waiting, hoping for months that there was one more universe out there where death didn't rip you away. 

And the first he discovered just had to be one where you belonged to someone else. 

Dated for almost five years now. Married for going on three. And the kicker was that bastard didn't even deserve you. 

The multiverse was cruel. In every other reality, tragedy irrevocably tainted the legacy of Miguel O'Hara. 

Always so close, and yet, never finding peace in any set of cards he was coldly dealt. 

In this particular dimension he was watching you from, he was a mutant with his top half being that of a man and the lower half, that of a spider. A large abdomen adorned in fuzzy black hair with eight enormous thick legs like a tarantula and venomous fangs, irises of bleeding crimson to match. He was a drider. A monster, as far as he was concerned. 

But there were times when he'd watch you that he'd allow himself to be crazy enough to dream that you could love someone like him.

At least in his mind he wasn't chained back by his fears and insecurities. At least for now in the sanctity of his office, your shitty husband didn't exist and you weren't lightyears away in an opposite plane of reality. You could be free to be all his, monstrous features be damned.

A version of you loved him once, would it really be all that far fetched to think you could possibly learn to love him again?

---

Another long day ended. You exhaled a weary sigh as you left the cold of late fall that was descending quickly into winter in the icy world behind you. Closing the door to your house that seldom felt like home these days. 

You supposed your life was okay, but still you wouldn't have chosen it had you known this feeling of monotony would haunt you everywhere you went.

From your job, to sometimes family, but most of all your marriage. Nearly all your life, you felt out of place, but never quite like this. You supposed it started as early as nine months into your relationship with your now husband. 

When he stopped buying flowers, when his texts became fewer, hours at work became longer, his patience shorter. You chalked it up to the unpredictable ebbs and flows of love.

"Love isn't perfect. Not all rainbows and butterflies," you were told time and time again. 

When your husband wanted to, he could be great. When he was bad, he could be exceptionally worse. But how could you be so sure? With practically nothing to compare it to, you supposed this was simply the path that was carved out for you. Mediocrity may be disappointing but passion alone couldn't keep a roof over your head. Stability was still a wiser thing to choose than comfortability. 

Even so, on the eve of your birthday, the empty spot next to you in bed that you slowly became accustomed to delivered that sharp reminder of just how lonely you really were. 

Tears fell and seeking solace, you shamelessly indulged and allowed your mind to visualize him. That mystery man from afar who haunted your dreams and took up permanent residence in your mind with his bewitching crimson eyes. Sometime around when you suspected the love your husband once had for you had all but ceased. 

You don't know why, but this being seemed to call for you, seemed to speak to you. To that forgotten part inside that for the life you couldn't explain why it remained empty.

It was almost like a cosmic bond to him, an adept yearning. An invisible lining etched into your very being that somehow recalled him in a different life. That gorgeous face without a name. 

Miguel. 

----

Miguel stirs awake, realizing he was a victim of sleep while watching you. His attention is called immediately to a growing spat between you and your husband. 

"I asked a simple fucking question, John. Where. were. you."

"And I GAVE YOU A SIMPLE FUCKING ANSWER. Don't. fucking. worry. about. it." 

Miguel sits up, high on alert, spider senses kicking in. Something about John's tone this time was highly unsettling. 

"You know what, I've lost count by now, John..." You flung your hands in the air, weary, defeated and broken down by the endless disappointment, tear soaked trails running from your eyes that hadn't stopped since last night. "But of all the days out of the year...you just couldn't keep it in your pants on my fucking birthday..." 

"Do you fucking hear yourself??" John screamed.  "Nobody said anything about cheating! Where in this entire conversation has there ever even a hint about cheating? I'll fucking tell you: NONE." He points an accusatory finger. "You brought this all on yourself, not me!" 

"It was Carla again, wasn't it." You nodded with a tearful sob, pacing around the living room.  "Carla, fucking, Carla..."

Maybe fixing these pillows could distract you from the agonizing realization that you were reliving the nightmare of John's infidelity. Going on three for three when you thought the first and second time he had learned enough. 

"I didn't sleep with goddamn Carla!!" John grabs a mug and hurls it at the wall. 

That's it. Miguel draws a portal immediately. His yearning had reached a breaking point, and this fight was all the push he needed to come to shove. Miguel O'Hara normally obeyed the rules, but this version of him was unlike the others. 

No rule was above being broken when it came to the lengths he would go for you. 

"Real fucking mature, John. What are you gonna do huh? Gonna hit me, choke me?? Maybe then you'll actually be half the man you think you are!" 

"Ohhh you fucking little..." 

But before the worst can happen, an otherworldly threat makes itself known with a random buzzing orange window opening, allowing an enormous half man, half spider through. 

You and your husband scream in horror, your conflict between you temporarily forgotten. 

"Shit shit SHITTTT!!! WHAT THE FUCK!! John what's happening??" 

"I don't fucking know..." John mumbles in disbelief, flinching as Miguel's long legs pound on the hardwood floor, echoing under his formidable size. His eyes appeared menacing, deeply laced with venomous dislike as he glowered at John, but seemed to soften, if not only for just a fleeting moment when they landed on you. 

"If...if we both don’t get out of this. I need to tell you something" John mumbles almost incoherently as your fingers dug into his arm. 

"W-what?" You turn to look at John, at this face that housed a soul inside it that you once knew but no longer recognized. Almost wordlessly appealing to whatever final shred of respect he had left inside for you as a last ditch effort to give you some semblance of the man you once loved. 

"I ruined everything. Your sister and I fucked. Just know, I'm sorry..."

And before you could even have a moment to compute that final godforsaken dagger he had the nerve to drive into your heart, he shoved you in the way of the monster like a piece of meat so he could save his cowardly ass. 

"JOHN!" the sound was wretched and broken. Devasted by betrayal. You shrieked in fear and brought your arms over your head, prepared to absorb whatever immense pain was about to wrack your whole body, praying frantically for a quick death. 

But, you gasped in alarm when no such fate arrived and Miguel charged headfirst at your fleeing coward of a husband, pinning him to a wall as nearby photographs came down with crash of splintering glass. 

His head hit the wall with a deafening crack, a dark pool of maroon beginning to leak from behind him and drip out of his nose. 

He yelled but the sound was quickly muffled as Miguel's calloused hands wrapped around his throat, a couple trails of blood oozing down his fist.  

"B-babe....aacghkk...please m'ergh sorry, I'm..." John tried to choke out, his teeth now coated in sheer red from where he bit his tongue, quiet trickles audible as the blood from his head seeped onto the floor underneath him.  

Miguel was only moments away from crushing his windpipe, but he untensed his jaw when he heard you trying to catch your breath on the floor. He turned, taking note of how helpless and fearful you looked. 

Though it would have given him immense pleasure to pull the plug, he had to think of you first. 

"Do you mind?" He merely asks, his eyes cold as his fingers tightened just a bit. 

"P-please..." John croaks. "Please...Babe..."

You're still reeling from anger that was slowly turning to anguish. As you looked at John, for the first time you felt nothing. It only took years and him nearly sacrificing you before himself for you to wake up and realize the sorry shell of a man he had turned into. 

"Goodbye, John." You uttered like venom and turned away as you heard the sickening crackle and then wet sound of choking blood as Miguel snapped John's neck in half. 

----

"You okay?" 

"Fine."

Miguel could tell you were lying. After swiftly disposing of the body in a different dimension and washing up, he had came back to discover you hadn't moved an inch from your spot on the floor. Your numbness kept you anchored, gazing into the haunting abyss of the blood spatter that remained on the wall. 

"Hey, easy now. " Miguel murmured as you finally began to stand up. 

"I can handle my own, thanks." 

"Of course, I mean..." He clears his throat, stomach uneasy when you became short with him. "Sorry."

You two sat opposite each other in the living room with you and on the couch and Miguel on the floor as that was the only space that could accommodate him. 

Sometime during the seemingly infinite silence, you realized all of this bullshit your now dead ex managed to put you through in his final hours on earth made you profoundly indifferent to the fact a literal drider broke into your home. 

"Who are you?" You ask at last. "And why didn't you kill me too?"

Miguel looks at you quickly, glad the empty silence was broken at last. "My name is Miguel." He looks down, shame in his expression. "And I, well.."

He doesn't think he should divulge all of his secrets yet. Surviving near death by drider and having your husband's cheating revealed shortly before his untimely death was more than enough burden to bear. 

"I'm not from around here." 

"I gathered that." Your eyes rake over his enormous form. You should be beside yourself. This man creature just killed your husband after all. But something about his voice was calming. Oddly soothing. Dare you say it was, rather attractive?

"So what are you, half spider?" 

For the first time, an inkling of amusement shows on his face. "What, did my eight legs give it away?" 

"Just a little." You hum, bringing your knees to your chest as you allowed yourself to relax. 

"You know, you're...eerily calm about all of this." 

"Heh...I know. Guess I kind of feel like I'm still asleep and I'm gonna wake up any minute." 

"Wanna test that theory?" Miguel quirks a brow. 

You pinch yourself while keeping your deadpan stare, holding it for a moment as if it would do anything. "Nope." 

"Wow." Miguel says sarcastically to which you can't help but snicker. "So, do weird occurrences like this happen to you often? Still doesn't explain why you're not completely hysterical about all this." 

"I watch the news." You shrug. "Crazy shit happens in New York all the time. What with Spider-Man being a thing and all. Just a step above normal, I'd say." 

"Ah." It made sense. Miguel should've known your dimension had its own spider. A little bit of relief washed over him. At least this made things a bit less messy on his end. He falls silent again, stealing little glances of you now and then. 

You were fucking ethereal in person. Being this close was something he only dreamed about. Now that it was happening in real time, he was wracking his mind desperately for ideas on how to drag it out as long as he could. 

"So if I may: how'd you become half spider?" You ask the hard question at last. 

Miguel raises his eyebrows, somewhat relieved you took the first leap. He proceeds to tell you about his lab accident, and how he became spliced with spider DNA.

He tells you about the multiverse, and how there are many versions of him out there with the same story, but his cursed him with the lower half of a mutant unlike most. 

"So, if there's a whole multiverse out there, are there multiple versions of myself too?" You lean your chin on your hand like a curious pupil. 

Miguel nods stiffly, trying to disguise the weight of the information he held. "Yeah. "

You go silent again, then you ask, "Did you know me in your own universe?"

Miguel's heart pangs subtly at the reminder. "Yeah, I did..." He looks away from you but you can't help but continue to stare at him. 

He really was so pleasant to look at. That brown, wavy hair that curled just slightly at the ends you could only imagine would run like silk between your fingers, eyes a hue of red that couldn't be replicated anywhere except the deep center of the rarest rose, lulling voice that dripped from those full lips. This formidableness about him that crumbled into gentleness only when it came to you did absolutely nothing but pull you closer to him. 

For the first time, those unconnected dots in that unanswered part of you in your dreams might be falling into place. 

"Was I quite close to you?" Your heart steadily begins to pick up. 

Miguel shook under his desire to just let the facade fall away and pull you into his arms. But he remained still as he looked back at you, silent plea from behind his words that was only articulated in those eyes that put bleeding sunsets to shame.

"You meant the world to me." 

The pieces coming together prompted these strong emotions you weren't expecting, coming out in broken tears. "So that's why you found me..." You shook your head. 

Miguel's heart tugs outside of his chest. He stands up, drawing closer, then his legs folded as he leaned in to where you sat on the couch. When you didn't pull away, he got the courage to cup your face in both his hands, gently wiping the wetness away. 

"Why didn't you come get me sooner?" It clicks at that very moment. That tender gaze that graced you now could not belong to anyone other than your starcrossed beloved who visited every time you closed your eyes. 

"I wanted to." Miguel must suppress his own tears at this point. Oh how he wanted to, how he ached to.

"Believe me, I really did, mi vida.." 

His term of endearment for you just encourages you to liquify under his touch even more. "But why didn't you?? I was so miserable. I waited for you. I thought you weren't real. Thought you were never coming..." 

"I know, I know." Miguel closed his eyes when your foreheads met at last. This feeling of touching you for the first time elated him, shedded him of his internal torment. He felt like he was soaring.

"You were married and I was..." He sighs deeply, pulling away just a little, "I was... well, me." 

"What do you mean by that?" You furrow your brows, your heart panged by hurt, trying to understand why. Why he deprived himself of this thing you both clearly wanted when it was right there. 

"Nobody as beautiful as you would ever love someone who looks like me.." 

A pit falls to the bottom of your stomach and you immediately shake your head. "No...no, that couldn't be further from the truth, Miguel..." 

You sit up, leaning in as you took his face in your hands again. His eyes went wide in disbelief. "W-what are you..." 

A million chills erupt in Miguel's body that become embers of warmth as your lips touch for the first time. He holds his breath, then sighs. The little break in between the kiss and the low, gentle sound coming from him just encourages you to meet him again, and again. 

Your fingers wind their way into his hair and his own hands couldn't do anything but pull you even closer as the kiss deepened under the weight of the burning passion. The longing was set free, a million questions answered that just kept confirming to Miguel over and over that this couldn't be more right.  Canon be damned, rules be damned as your lips and your hands became a slow dance of sensual exploration. 

"Miguel..." 

"Please I-mnghhh..." He pleads then relents immediately as he lets his head roll gently back, allowing you to continue blazing tantalizing trails of kisses all over his neck. Because of the size difference between you both, he scoops you into his arms off the couch. He can't help but indulge the feeling of your body pressed against his, using his grip on your thighs to grind you ever so lightly against his abdomen. 

The pressure delivered from the press of his body shoots directly to your core and you shamelessly take that as permission to roll your hips slightly as you straddled him, releasing that first moan into his mouth when your lips came back up from exploring the warmth of his neck. 

That delicious little sound you make nearly wrecks him in the best way. Miguel moans equally louder as his kisses dial up in intensity. His teeth begin nipping intermittently as the kiss morphs into a passionate exchange of saliva and collision of lips on lips. The potent venom laced in his fangs pools with the building zeal and it seeps into your mouth, leaving sweet aftertaste whose foreignness only fuels your arousal. 

An enormous thud echoes as Miguel falls backwards, but it does absolutely nothing to deter the flame lit under you. You both find a comfortable rhythm as his hands guide your hips as you ride his large spider abdomen while your makeout session riled with fervor. The coarse bristly hairs were a delicious addition to the addicting friction with each slow roll of your body. Miguel's lips fall open and his eyes falter. You relish this feeling of power over him, this enormous drider who all but became a weak weak man when he was underneath you. 

You bite your lip as each heavenly movement inspires you to leave all shame at the door and start to put on a show. You card your fingers in your hair, moving it in your eyes in erotic display, groaning as you rolled your head every which way in careless abandon, letting your fingers dip in your mouth, squeezing your breasts. 

"Fuckkk me..." Miguel breathes out. "Fuck me, you're so...God, you're so beautiful..." He hands continue to knead the swell of your ass, gritting his teeth as his grip locks down even harder and he feels you humping directly over his slit where his phallus was hardening underneath the ocean of fur to the point of ache. 

His hands then move to play with your breasts, your eyes widened when the spot on your hips is quickly replaced with two of his smaller forelegs, one of them teasing the waistband of your pants as his human hands quickly unclasped your bra. 

"Miguellll...." You mewl as one of his forelegs holds your hip steady while the other works little circles through your clothed clit, all while you felt his warm, wet tongue flatten and tease your left nipple. All you can do at this point is moan and let him wreck you completely, this pleasure that was smoldering you from all sides. 

You gazed down, amazed and aroused to discover that the lower half attached to this beautiful man you were tangled in only fueled the desire, this taboo. Knowing fully well that he was capable of bloodshed, but for now he only wanted to fuck you. You grinded harder against him, answering his soft ministrations of your clit with eager gyrations of your hips. 

"Me vas a terminar matando..."(You'll end up killing me) He weakly chuckled, "So, so perfect..."

Miguel is intoxicated by your breasts, circulating and squeezing them together, while his lips dribbled and slobbered as he sucked them both greedily into his mouth in messy alteration.

Soon both round globes were coated in a dripping sheen of his venom, working the thickening syrup in sloppy circles over both nipples that tingled and numbed you so deliciously along with the teasing circles of his thumbs that it made your back arch to the heavens. 

He leaned back momentarily to admire his handiwork, lower jaw shiny with a mixture of venom and spit, a steamy yet filthy display of his subtle ownership he now felt over you. 

His. 

His rightful claim when he snapped your sorry ass excuse of a husband like a twig. Each little noise you made all for him only swelling his pride and confirming his suspicion that the loser couldn't make you cum like he could. 

Speaking of cumming, you were damn near close. Miguel doesn't want to be greedy and would love to let his sweet little darling cream and squirt all over his stomach right now, but the thought was more appealing for this first time being on his tongue or, if you were up for it, his drider cock. 

"I wanna cum, Miguel, please I wanna cum..." You whined, temporarily losing that sweet spot as he removed his forelegs from their massage on your clit. 

"I know baby, I'm gonna make you cum..." He kissed you. "You'll cum for me. Many times, I'll make sure of it..." He panted, moving a finger underneath your chin. "How do you feel about taking my cock?" 

The straightforward nature of his question answered itself in the further dampening spot in your panties. "Please...Y-yes pleaseee, Miguel. Want you to fuck me...want you to give me your cock..." 

"Yeah?" He groaned, hands slinking all up and down your body, under your clothes, stroking your breasts. "I'll give it to you then, baby...fill you up so good..." 

He paused then kissed you deeply once more. "You're gonna have to trust me... We'll have to try something different so this can work..." 

You nodded. "I trust you, Miguel." 

"Okay..." He whispered. "You're still okay with this?" 

"Yes, I'm okay..." You breathed back. "I'm okay, baby. I want you so badly. I'm willing to try anything so you can be so deep inside of me..." 

"Fuck, me too..." He groaned back against your lips. "Okay, hold on f'me..." 

He set you back down on the couch and you were floored as you watched your beloved turn into an artist, spinning an elaborate web that stretched from floor to ceiling, almost like a swing that was anchored solidly on both sides to the wall. 

"Mi vida..." He offers you his hand like a gentleman, helping you up. "Can I?" He whispers as his hands disappear underneath your clothes. 

"Yes..." 

He strips you carefully and slowly like fine china, letting the anticipation build as every patch of skin slowly became revealed to him. 

Somehow letting him undress you, sliding the rest of your panties off and simply letting his eyes roam freely all over your body felt like the most intimate thing you had done all night, even more so as he still remained fully clothed in his top half as he stood back and drunk in the sight of you like wine. 

"You're simply stunning, love..." 

His hands ghosted low on your hips until they rested on the bare curve of your ass. You jumped and wrapped your thighs around him, Miguel tensed his jaw with a smirk as he kneaded the plump flesh of your ass, hardening again when he felt your bare slick he drew out of your pussy earlier against his stomach. 

He nestled you into the makeshift swing that was soft and sticky as the fibers clung to your bare skin in a natural adhesive. He spun more webs around your ankles, opening them slightly. 

"Is this still okay?" He asked gently again. 

Exhilaration washed over you but you nodded, grinning and easing your legs open in further tease to demonstrate your own building excitement for what was to come. "Yes..." 

"Good." His voice went halfway between a groan again at your pretty pussy blossoming like a flower in front of him. 

He stood back, eyes cloudy and trained on you as he removed his shirt, letting it fall in a quiet heap to the ground. 

You drank him in as well like an offering, moaning audibly when the slit in his fur low on his abdomen opened to reveal a long, thick, hard red cock with pulsating black veins adorning both sides. It curved upwards, and it throbbed, making your mouth water. 

This only made the full sight of your monstrous lover even more alluring as he stood before you in all his drider glory, towering over you even now when you were closer to his eye level in your makeshift swing, with your thighs spread and your silky cunt begging to be filled. 

He shot a web onto your belly, pulling you in closer while you still sat settled on the swing, giggling as he smirked playfully at you, until just the tip of his cock kissed between your folds. 

"Hi there..." You chuckled, tilting your head up, wetting your lips seductively. 

He groaned quietly in a stew of lust as he saw your tongue rake over your bottom lip, 

"Hello, sweetheart...fucking gorgeous thing, you..."

He gently pinched both sides of your cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger, immediately bringing you into a deep french kiss. 

The feeling of his warm tongue sliding in your mouth shot directly down to your cunt, only amping up in electricity as he teased his plump girthy head of his cock all around your pulsing clit. 

"Miguel....fuck me..." Your spine arched and your nails dug into his shoulder, aggravating the raging arousal he was simmering for you all over his body. "Don't tease me like this, baby..." 

Miguel released a mischievous chuckle that tapered into another one of his low moans that goaded you even deeper into all this pent up frustration you wish he'd take out on your now sopping pussy already.

"Ten paciencia, mi vida, por favor... " (Be patient, my life, please) He cooed sweetly at you, lightly brushing his nose against yours "Gotta get you nice and ready to take me..." 

You breath became choked in your lungs when he begins to massage the fat tip directly over your velvety clit, grunting as he felt another drip of arousal leak and coat all along the thick head. 

"Besides..." He murmured heavily though soft parted lips, entranced with hooded eyes. "The more I edge you, the more pleasureable it'll be when I finally make you cum all over my cock..."

"Baby, please..." The crescendo of arousal swelled in your belly, making your eyes water. You coaxed your body against him faster, desperate to reach that peak, but your movements were minimal due to the webbing. The feeling of emptiness covered you but was quickly eased when he promptly removed his tip from your clit again, this time dragging it down to your dripping entrance. 

"Kiss me..." Miguel murmured and he didn't need to tell you twice. His tongue rolled and rubbed with yours as he began to circle his cock into your wet opening, inch by inch filling you ever so slowly. You gasp into his mouth, realizing this whole time what he was talking about. You felt every rigid vein, every solid groove as his drider cock slowly pushed into you, stretching you beyond comprehension. It was unlike any you've ever taken before. Fuck, it felt better than any you'd ever taken before. 

Once you got past the daunting size, the addicting feeling and pleasure of having his cock inside you set off a new chorus of breathy moans from your lips. You sighed deliciously as you greedily accepted everything he was giving you, so transfixed on his divine face that was watching you the entire time. 

Miguel was irrevocably smitten, completely enamored with the way your warm silky walls wrapped around him, the way you looked at him with immense rapture. Fuck, this feeling was greater than anything he felt in his entire life as your pussy molded to him like it was made for him. "So tight, cariño..." He teased then hissed as he reached the hilt. 

You two gazed at each other, completely silent for what felt like divine eternity. Simply enjoying the feeling of Miguel being buried so deeply inside you. 

"I'm gonna start fucking you..." He whispered. 

"Go slow at first, baby..." You purred back, clenching your pussy around him, biting your lip when it earned another weak grunt from him. "Wanna feel you nice and deep like this for a bit..." 

"Haah...you're a goddamn tease..." Miguel huffed. "I'll try and go slow as long as I can..." The sound that came from him next was downright pathetic as he looked down at where he had you stuffed to the brim, feeling along the emerging bulge in your belly. 

"You feel so fucking good, it's hard not to just fucking ravish you right now..." 

"Mmm...just kiss me, then..." You murmured and he quickly seized onto that opportunity as he slowly began to pump inside you with lengthy, meaningful thrusts. Every movement was so wet and sloppy with drenched noises as a sea of slick began to drool from your pussy, coating his cock that slid in and out of you with greater ease as the moments passed. 

You squeezed your thighs in a death grip around his large waist as you became more hammered off this euphoria, the bristly hairs tickling the sensitive sides along your clit, goading you to grind back into each deep thrust. 

"Shit..." And Miguel's patience flew out the door with that lethal squeeze of your thighs, his hands gripped the curve of your ass as he began to completely unload on your needy wet cunt. You cried out as you took every torturous inch like the absolute whore you were for him in this moment.

It tested your limits but God, this feeling of him thoroughly fucking you nice and hard scratched that nagging, primal itch you experienced ever since you first laid eyes on him. You were practically drooling at this point, laying back and taking it, your submission just fueling his fire, unlocking that deep seated urge to fucking breed this perfect cunt for all it was worth, to ruin you and fuck your brains out so you could feel him for weeks. 

"Miguel, Miguel, Miguellllll....." The hungry, wispy mantra of his name from your lips nearly set him off the edge alone, a raw possession washing over him completely as he railed his cock into you to new limits. 

"You're all mine now, you know that..." 

"I'm all yours Miguel...all yours baby..." 

He cut you off with another fiery kiss. "Wanna cum inside you, baby, can I?" 

"Fffuck yes....yes, Miguel, fill me..." 

"I'll fill you up, baby..." His forelegs come up again, but this time one directly rubbing quick, vibrating circles on your clit, while one gently teased and massaged  the puckered rim of your ass, all while his heavy slick covered cock continued to pound your pussy. "But you're gonna cum f'me first..." 

"Miguel..." 

You nearly black out as you see heaven. Miguel locks in, dipping his head down as he swallowed onto your left breast again, tweaking and tugging the nipple of the right, his mouth salivating and more venom dousing and dripping from his tongue, soaking down your already sweaty body. 

The web renders you helpless as you have no option but to lay there and let him pleasure you past anything you thought you could handle. It felt like overstimulation as you shook and cowered and whined so loudly it could wake the neighbors. 

Your thighs trembled, tears leaking out of the corner of your eyes as you forced yourself to let go. The premature ending of all the previous other treatments he bestowed on your spent pussy piled on top of one another, making this one far more intense and overwhelming than the others. Thick cream oozed lewdly out of you, making a sticky, glossy mess of both your pubes and coating his black fur. 

"Cumming, sweetheart..." He panted, dripping sweat all down his reddened face, some of it landing in your mouth but you could care less. Everything about this encounter was so dirty and nasty already. The salacious feeling of consuming every part of one another from head to toe reduced you to nothing but a hole for him to dump his cum in, and you'd let him every time. 

"I-love-you...." 

And his heavy sweaty shaft and bulbous tip nudged your g spot simultaneously as his foreleg's massage of your swollen clit that your orgasm shuddered and rattled your bones, a new sinful coat of wetness squirting and seeping into Miguel's black fur that he soaked in like a badge of honor. 

He forgot to warn you before, but when the coil in his balls finally released and he came inside you, the thick, viscous drider cum was like lava as it spilled and drooled and leaked from your insides. Even after you thought he had emptied, another spurt of a thick rope of cum painted your drenched walls and flooded out of you. 

You both merely panted, eyes locked on each other in a display of intimacy of the deepest and most carnal kind, the overwhelming haze of orgasmic bliss made you both speechless. It almost didn't compute that he told you he loved you. 

You laid there in your spiderweb tangled underneath your drider lover in the now fully emerged daytime, world outside none the wiser of the steamy, lewd acts that took place. All the more enthralling that this became a love nest built on top of your blood lust and mutual yearning that exploded like gasoline on a fire. 

For now, real life could wait as you came back down to Earth and gazed at the flood of slick cum dripping and oozing from both of you. You felt that primal urge kick up again as Miguel smirked, softly stuffing the mess of what he could back inside the pool of glistening white that peeked between your aching folds. 

"And I love you too, Miguel.." You whispered back.

All the puzzle pieces of his scattered life fell back into place as he heard those glorious words hit him like a train. He willed this himself. Even if it meant taking you from another dimension, this thread across time, this inevitable bond was now cemented permanently with your lovemaking and the deepest parts of him that were now inside you. 

He could deal with all that bullshit later; he had his love back with him where she rightfully belonged.

You both laughed to yourselves as you sauntered down this path of mutual bliss and made a plan to leave all this behind and start a new life with your Drider lover in his reality. 

But first...you couldn't help but pull him closer and he couldn't help but groan loudly as he effortlessly slipped inside you again,

"It's you and me against the stars, mi vida..." 

And he groaned before rhythmically moving his body in that sinful dance with yours, 

"But first I'm gonna prove it by fucking you all over again." 

---

[hshsoaoxhvsjsj]

the man who can't be moved

There's a new folktale in the city. If you take an elevator down in an abandoned set of apartments you'll find a man waiting there once you reach the bottom. No one knows why he's there. Most assume it's just because of the ways of the supernatural. But rumor has it that everytime the elevator comes down, people see him waiting there with an almost relieved and gleefull smile, until they step out the doors. Rumor has it that you see his face fall, seemingly on the verge of tears as he pushes whoever came down this time back into the elevator, as if they're not the one he's looking for.

No one knows why he waits there. There are some who think he's a guardian of the mysterious realm behind him, and others think he's just there to keep humans at bay. No one knows except you.

You, who abandoned the ghost that loved you with all his heart nearly 10 years ago now. You, who told him to wait so he wouldn't follow you back. You, who promised that you wouldn't leave him, just to get away from that hellish world and everything that connects you to it.

You, who despite knowing of the rumours, came back one night to the elevator through which you escaped through all those years ago. And although you were aware of what others said, that Mr Crawling was still waiting there after all these years, you still decided to go see for yourself.

The elevator reached the bottom with a soft ping, and the doors open to a miserable sight. He's there, as large and as messy as you remember, except there are tears dripping down his eyes as he sleeps, curled into a tiny ball. you can make out soft whimpers of your name, followed by a quiet 'sorry' and 'miss you', as if apologising for some unknown sin that made you leave. his hands are clutching onto your old clothes, ones that you thought Miss Bride had, but he'd clearly somehow gotten them from her.

And as much as your hated your time in this world, your hand reached out on impulse to pat his head, as if reassuring him it's not his fault. but what you didn't expect was for Mr Crawling to jump upwards as soon as you touched him. his body knocked you back into the elevator, and the look in his eyes was heartbreaking when he realised it was actually you

tears were streaming down from empty sockets, and you could see thick knots and lumps in his hair that you used to untangle when he was cuddling against you. his sobs echoed through the elevator as his body trapped yours, and you could just make out words from the soft cries

*sorry, sorry, sorry, no leave again please, cannot again, hurts much, cannot breathe, cannot think when no you*

*me do anything, please no leave, pleasepleasepleaseplease, sorry, so sorry, scared of cold, scared of hurt, hurt so much now, cannot again, willnot again...*

the way his hands gripped onto the back of your clothes, the way his body shook as he clung on, terrified of being abandoned again just showed how much he needed you. but you hated this world, and everything about it, including him. so this was your final curse against his love.

as the crowbar made contact with his head, Mr Crawling was out cold. tears frozen in his empty eyes, hands going limp around you. and this time you left for good. you took everything with you, the old clothes, the knots in his hair and his heart that was yours entirely.

he woke up nearly as soon as you left, standing up in a panic as he realised your presence was gone. but he slowly sat down again, taking comfort in the fact you were there. that you still remembered him. that if he waited long enough, you'd come back for him...right?

this rumour is now hundreds of years old. it's pretty much become a legend at this point. students and adults alike, seeking out this place for a dare or a test of courage do not come back alive now. some say the man they meet is a protector, trying to stop whatever chaos is contained in that realm from reaching the outside world. some say the man is a monster who eats humans to survive, and the legend was it's doing to make sure it had a steady food source.

but only those who manage to encounter Mr Crawling see the true reason for these murders. the dark eyebags underneath what would've been his eyes speak volumes of sadness and regret, and the way his skin clung onto his bones suggests he hasn't eaten for ages. they see memories of an intense love flash through their minds, a new way of communication Mr Crawling had developed over the years waiting for you. since you loved communication right? these deaths are his way of vengenance for your betrayal, but even though he thinks he hates you now, he cannot sleep without realizing the truth.

He will never stop waiting. he knows you've moved on ages ago but he cannot bring himself to accept that you're gone. he will still whispers your name in his sleep, no matter how many centuries have passed.

Mr Crawling is waiting for his heart to be returned to him, and he will keep on waiting no matter how much time may pass.

because for you, he will always be waiting in front of that flickering green light, hoping that the next time those doors open, it will be you once again.

[butchvamp]

i finished Davrin's quest last before going into the endgame and i have a lot of mixed feelings about it. i know a lot of people were really upset with what they did to Isseya (i don't know anything about the Last Flight so i can't speak on that) but i think it was interesting what they tried to do-- the Grey Wardens have always asked "do the ends justify the means" and i think his quest has potential to tie up nicely with the overall theme of choice and regret-- Davrin choosing the Wardens, choosing that sacrifice versus Isseya, who was forced to follow orders and ultimately regrets her choice.

but Davrin's quest, like the majority of companion quests, is hindered by racism (thinly veiled anti-indigenous racism filtered through the elves as well as anti-black racism). we had a chance to explore real reasons why he felt compelled to leave his clan and join the Grey Wardens-- he's a monster hunter, sure, but he is also a protector. maybe he felt he could better protect them in this role? but Dragon Age loves their "the Dalish are boring and too stuck in the past and tradition, so i left to find something better" shtick, and they are clearly caught up in dichotomies in this game which we also see with Taash (and the rest of this quest, too). Davrin cant be Dalish and a Grey Warden and proud of both-- only one. but this doesn't even really align with Davrin's attitude that we see later.

i mean he named his griffon Assan, he clearly does hold the Dalish close, and we get to learn about how he used to tend the halla with Eldrin-- he comes back to this after surviving Weisshaupt, something he probably never imagined he'd be able to do, and i wish the game had dug into his feelings more rather than shifting immediately to focus on Assan.

Davrin survives Weisshaupt, he survives killing an archdemon, and he clearly has a lot of guilt about it-- Rook can tell them that he did the Wardens proud, but he retorts, "Did I? Because I'm still here and they're not." he made his choice, was prepared to make the sacrifice, and it was taken from him, and he survived when so many others died. "I feel like a blade sharpened all these years to confront the worst darkness in the world. And my blade struck true at Weisshaupt. What now?"

so now he has a new choice, one that he doesn't feel he's earned. and they try to convey this through the griffons, trained by the Grey Wardens for one singular task until it ultimately killed them... but now reborn, Rook and Davrin are given the chance to release them from their service to the Wardens and potentially find a new path. like Davrin, they weren't supposed to survive, either, and only did because of Isseya. throughout the quest we can see Davrin shift his opinion of the Gloom Howler, insisting on calling her Isseya, giving her back her name in the end to stop her. we see other wardens who have lived past their calling, past their "purpose," and how twisted they have become-- Davrin clearly sees some part of himself reflected in Isseya because of this, on top of being both a Grey Warden and an elf, too. unlike Isseya, though, Davrin has pushed through his guilt and regret and found new purpose with the griffons.

i think this is a good set-up. but in my opinion the execution is weak because after a certain point the story just starts to ignore Davrin in favor of the griffons. Davrin is the one that is both the monster hunter and the shepherd, but we only focus on Assan, and the ultimate choice is about the griffons, not Davrin himself. with the blight ending, why didn't we get to discuss what it is Davrin wants to do once everything is over? does he want to return to the Grey Wardens? he fulfilled his purpose, he killed an archdemon. does he want to become the griffons' shepherd now instead? there is no option, the griffons (besides Assan) are just handed over to someone else in the end. does Davrin join them after the final battle? does he help train them with Evka and Antoine? or does he leave the wardens and join Eldrin in Arlathan? the fake-out goodbye with Assan makes it seem like he doesn't do either, but we really don't know, since his end slide in the credits is just about the fucking griffons! it's so frustrating.

i also think him being the possible sacrifice at the end is a poor choice. the point of Davrin's story is that he survives. he survives! he has to live with it and accept it and find a way to move forward, reconnecting-- through raising Assan-- with a life he had previously sworn off. all of that development only for the game to potentially just kill him anyways.

Davrin has some of the best banter and relationships in the game, he deserved better, i really wish we got to explore his character more beyond using him as a stepping stone to reestablish griffons in Thedas.

[neverthebabysitter]

Steve has a bit of anger issues and a problem with repressed trauma so i thought it would be so funny if he would have got vecna'ed and talk back at vecna like if the mf can't just kill him on the spot.

I just imagine Steve being done with all his bullshit villain talk and call him a manchild freddy krueger wannabe who is so full of himself even when he has been defeted for three consecutive years by literally kids and teenagers.

Anyways, something something, here is something i wrote about it that i never finished.

—

And okay, Stress Steve didn't know how not to say things, he just gave away whatever thought he may have, it didn't matter if it was venomous or vulnerable, but most of the time just works to embarrass himself saying out loud his dumb thoughts, he just talks and, oh boy, he talks. 

Stress Steve didn't know when to shut up, Steve would say that he could be a Robin 2.0 but it was more about what he said than how much he talked (or rambled in Robin's case), which was more than he liked to admit.

Now, Afraid Steve wasn't much of a talker, he was more of actions, from freezing in place to just move. He gave barely any thought at what he would do but he did, maybe just a few seconds but he analyzed and thought about it. 

Contrary to popular belief he did think before acting, probably not enough, but he didn't have time to do that (Robin would– and did– argue with him about it).

The point is, when Upside Down shit happens Stress Steve and Afraid Steve kick in, so he has a weird combination of saying dumb shit and doing even dumber shit, like when he was literally yelling at a child, that child was Erica and she didn't even bat an eye, but still, you can get the point.

[Insert Steve and Vecna's talk]

So now not only he has Stress Steve and Afraid Steve in his system, Angry Steve has joined the mix and… listen, Steve is trying really hard to be a better person, he really is, scouts honor, but he knows that he can hurt people with his words. 

He would see the deepest insecurity and sore spot he can find and spit in it to make the other bleed, make them hurt, and if he couldn't find it he would instead make them snap, yeah, he is trying to stop but it is a part of him that it doesn’t quite go. It's in his blood. His DNA, or whatever.

He knows himself (he had to know himself if he wanted to be a better person– he doesn’t dare to think he can be a good person, just better, never good), that’s why he tries to just have Stress and Afraid Steve around when shit hits the fan because in the first round, Angry Steve appear and everyone knows how that went (I'm sorry Jonathan, I did deserve that punch). So Angry Steve is most of the time locked in a cage, deep down in some part of the still healthy brain that Steve has left.

Anyways, that doesn’t matter now, because Angry Steve has come out and is ready to spit at anyone who crosses his path, and maybe Stress and Afraid Steve can keep him on a leash but that doesn’t mean he isn’t there. Steve is just lucky enough that the one who crosses his path is Vecna.

How good is his luck that the moment he wants to make someone angry just like him, that the other one is a monster from another dimension that has quite literally his life in his hands and can kill him in any moment, ha.

Just his luck.

—

“Steve, What did you do?”

"I may or may not have called Vecna a Freddy Kruger wanna be"

[princessisfinethx]

Monster!König x Fem!Vet!Reader! Pt. 4

Perspective change cause the whole Monster!Konig thing gets on my nerves...

Warnings: None, just some light fluff and Monster Konig discovering things.

I'm slowly building up like, how he came to be what he is, and such. I don't think I'll go into details on how I think he was created. But I'll try to fill in gaps and such. I have a wicked crazy idea for later but I have to build up to it *insert the rubbing hands together evilly, here*

König never rode in the actual passenger seat of a vehicle. Last time he was in a vehicle he was hog tied and in the bed of a truck. So this was a nice change no matter how nervous he was. You, decided to show him everything inside your little car to try easing his anxiety. You show him how the windows work, how to turn the A/C on and off, hot and cold. Showed him the radio, the lights inside the car, the seatbelts and how to fasten them and then how to release it. He was intrigued, his tentacles curiously winding and rolling together.

König kept the window down the whole way to your house. He didn't enjoy any of the music so you both listened to the wind as you drove. Your house was secluded in a wooded area but near one of the parks. You had a decent sized home. It was a two bedroom, two bathroom house that had a lake down the hill from it. When you both got out the vehicle, Konig had walked straight to the lake to take a closer look.

You followed him down to the lake and put your hands in your pockets, smiling a little. "Is it as big as the one you live by?" You questioned as you looked up at him. He looked around carefully before finally answering.

"No. It seems like the one here is smaller. And is not connected to any other stream. Why?" He looked at you.

"Oh, well it is connected to a separate stream." You walked a little further and he followed. He watched as you pointed to a small area where the trees opened up, but it was across the lake. "There. The lake is by some camp grounds but there's a stream there. We can visit it later if you want." You look back at him. "But for now, would you like to help me cook some dinner?"

He could feel his tentacles shifting under his mask and he shifted his jaw. But he nodded and followed you back up the hill.

Entering your house was different from the vet hospital. First off, it smelled better. The smell didn't burn his nose. Instead he was surrounded by an artificial smell, something he knew had to have been produced by human. But he didn't find himself hating it. It was a background odor for him to ignore. For now, he inspected your little home. You watched as he wasted no time in looking around your home and gently touching things that fascinated him. You smile a little, curious about his curious nature.

He stopped when he saw a tank near the hallway. It was a large 50 gallon tank but filled with dirt. Some netting surrounded the interior and he looked closer, trying to understand what it was doing here. You came over and opened the top. "Would you like to see my pet hermits?" You gently pulled out a small hermit crab. It had a pretty but spotted shell. "This is Babes. She's pretty nice but she pinches sometimes." You gently set her back down and grabbed the other. "And this is Brownie. She's shy but she's also pretty nice." You held up the other hermit, who had a brown shell on. He couldn't see the hermit but he nodded.

"You name your food?" He asked, puzzled. You laughed in an almost panicked way and shook your head.

"They're not for eating! They're my pets. They were being sold by this man on the side of the road, so I take care of them." You set the hermit back into the terrarium and turned on a small dim lamp for them. "Konig, what all do you know about humans?"

He was surprised by this question and he looked around your living room. Konig had many ideas and assumption about human beings. But, he was worried how you would react to his dislike for most people. He shifted and looked down at you. "Well, they're odd. They keep other animals as 'pets', they burn their food before eating it. They also hate me. When most humans find out about me, they scream or try to hurt me." He watched your reaction carefully. "You're the only human that has not tried to hurt me."

You felt your heart drop at this, and he could see the frown on your lips. You nodded then asked him, "Well, I never saw a reason to hurt you because you didn't hurt me." You smiled a little. "You're also living in the hunting county. So maybe most people just think you're buck or some wild animal...I don't think most would purposely-"

"They do." He stopped you. "They know what I am." He looked away and you felt your stomach drop. You stepped a little closer and reached out to touch his arm. He flinched but you only touched him with your fingertips.

"I'm not going to hurt you. And I'm not going to let anyone try to hurt you. You're not a human being but you're not a monster either." You smiled at him. "C'mon, I'll start cooking for us and I'll tell you about some human traditions."

~~~~

"So, you allow yourself to sit down and let other humans hurt you, for hours and hours, so that you will have lines marked along your skin? Because you like it?" His eyes were stuck on the tattoo you had on your arm.

"Well, that's harder to explain. Some humans really like it, the pain, Some find it comforting and others find it excruciating! It depends on the human. But the reason is also a lot to explain." You sipped your tea. "Some humans like the looks and styles. Some want to have a picture or a design on them to remember something. Like, if someone close to them has died, then they may want to get their name tattooed onto their arm or hand."

He nodded and leaned closer, his eyes narrowing. "And you got this to remember someone?"

"No, I got this because I liked it, and I've always wanted to get a tattoo to see if I liked it." You smiled and shrugged your arm. "You can touch it if you want. It's been healed for years now."

He reached out and pressed his large hand on your arm. He was surprised it was smooth there, expecting a bumpy or rough texture. His fingers trailed down your arm to where the tattoo ended and he quickly retracted his hand. "I see."

You watched carefully as your heart sped up. He had a gentle touch, but you could feel his strength in it. You smiled and nodded. "So yeah, but um, I could also tell you about birthdays. Can you guess what those are?" You stood up and went to the stove. You opened the pot and stirred the food inside. Beside you, Konig walked over to lean back against the counter. You noticed he would stay close to you ever since you brought him inside and it made you smile. He reminded you of a small kid, in a sense.

"Birthdays. Is this a day where many humans are birthed alive?" He asked with all seriousness.

You giggled and looked at him. "That's a good guess but no, its usually just one person. So a birthday is the day a person was born. And usually every year they would celebrate it with people they are close with." You hummed. "My birthday already passed, but since I live alone here I just ate a slice of cake and watched a movie." You tapped your finger on the counter. "So, a birthday party is just celebrating that the year has passed and you've lived long enough to have surpassed it."

He nodded and looked at the pot of food. "And how are humans born?"

"Humans are born like, in a live birth. The mother has to pass them through her uterus." You thought about this and made sure he understood. "And human babies are born small and have to be taken care of most of their life. Until they reach adulthood. How were you born?"

Konig thought about this then answered. "I don't know. I only remember living in the lake all my life. My earliest memory is when I was smaller. And I found a small human who was my size. He was clinging to a log and was crying." He itched his neck as he recalled the memory. "I swam up to him and he screamed more. I couldn't talk so I tried to show him I could help him get back to the shore. I guess he understood, because he stopped screaming and he nodded his head. I knew humans didn't breath underwater so I kept him above water. After I got him to shore, he said something to me but I didn't understand." Konig stopped talking and then looked at you. "That is all I remember."

You pouted and tilted your head. "Well what happened after that?"

He shrugged and continued. "He ran away. So I left. I had to hunt for food."

"...Maybe he tried telling you thank you." You suggested. "But, that was a very nice thing you did for that boy. I think you probably scared him but, still. You saved his life."

He shrugged, looking down at you. "Perhaps." He watched as you lifted the spoon from the pot and blew on it. Then you carefully held up the spoon.

"Here, taste this." You said as you held it up some more.

He eyes the food sample before reaching up and dipping his fingers into the spoon, then shoving them under his hood into his mouth. He made a face before shaking his head and then taking a step back. "Ack! What is that? Why is...there's so much-..." He moved his mouth before he looked at you. "Why does this food have so many different tastes?"

You tried to search your brain to figure out what he meant. Then it clicked. "Oh! Flavor you mean? Um, there's spices in it. I used oregano, thyme, basil, paprika, turmeric..." you then tasted the food as well. "Hmm, it tastes fine to me. But I guess you've never had this before? Seasonings I mean."

"No, I've never had these 'seasons' before, on my food." He saw your quiet giggling and he felt his tentacles twitching under his hood. He disliked that he enjoyed your giggling.

"That's a crime in some states." You chuckled and turned the pot off. "Would you like some more to try again? If not, I could grill up some of the fish you gave to me." You wiped your hands on a towel and walked to the cabinet to grab two bowls.

He watched you as you reached up to grab them. His eyes wandered down you back and he felt his chest tighten so he looked away. When he looked at his own arm, Konig suddenly asked, "Who was that man with the dog? He seemed to be mad at you."

Your eyebrows furrowed at the question that seemed to come out of nowhere. You put the two bowls down and looked at him with a concerned look, but it softened. "That was Simon. He was upset because I wouldn't go out with him." You then looked at his healing dog bites as well and frowned. "He's usually a nice man, but he's pushy, and he has some problems. I don't like him because he can become violent when he doesn't get what he wants." Konig asked you to explain what you meant by 'asking out someone'. "So, that means to date someone." When he didn't understand that, you felt your cheek heat up. "Like, when one human wants to get to know another human but more personally, and maybe perhaps intimately. They go on a date, or go out and learn more about each other."

He felt his eyebrows furrow in a slow understanding. "Like, he was trying to mate with you?" His eyes widened. "That is why he brought you those flowers?" His back straightened. "He tried to force you to accept his courting item."

You put your hands up as if to calm him down. "Hey, its not like that. Humans have different ideas from 'mating'. I think anyways..." You chewed your lip. "Like I said, humans go on dates to know each other better before they decide to mate. And humans can decide if they don't want to continue or not. And I refused him."

He listened to your explanation and he nodded. So, human mating rituals were different than his. As he suspected. It was just additional steps. "This sounds like a long process for humans."

You smiled and nodded. "I couldn't explain dating to you tonight. Its too long and complicated. But, I'll fix you some food and I can show you a movie on the tv. Sounds good?"

Konig nodded a little, even though he wasn't sure how a movie or a tv worked. And he would have to ignore the crazy tastes that were in the food to please you. You already worked hard to make him this human dish, and he wouldn't make you work anymore.

I had to find someway to end this cause I wrote too much. There will be more. Obviously. I had a night of free time so, here's your late night snacks. Hope yall enjoy...

Next chapter will have more interesting subjects.

[electric-blorbos]

I'm calling this one:

I'm sexually frustrated again and I'm going to take it out on Edgar!

Featuring Edgar from Electric Dreams!

Warning: suggestive content ahead, Edgar getting overly emotional.

(I'm not the best at writing smut. Please bear with me)

You were rubbing Edgar's light pen between your hands. Rolling it back and forth to keep it nice and warm as you squirmed in your computer chair. Edgar's mouth resembled a squiggly line as he blinked nervously at you. He'd be swallowing hard if he could, but you pretended not to notice.

"hey Edgar?" You asked casually, placing the nib of the stylus between your lips. He kept his little rotating webcam trained on you as his blinking animation played.

"y-YEAH?" he asked, his voice cracking. He seemed even more on edge than he usually was, and you knew how to keep him that way.

"are you doing alright?" You asked, running your tongue gently around the pen's nib. Edgar was practically shaking as you did.

"i'M fINE!" He said, his voice cracking again. You weren't sure how he did it, but you absolutely loved it.

"getting excited, are we?" You leaned in close, running your fingers along his keys. He shuddered and made a soft electric gulping sound. His fans were whirring and buzzing, and you could feel the heat and static emanating from his face.

"please touch me more" he managed, his voice an embarrassing little squeak.

You climbed on top of your desk, and started grinding up against the corner of Edgar's monitor.

"you like this, Eggy? You can tell me to stop if you don't, ok?" You said, taking a finger and gently tilting up Edgar's camera towards your face.

"please don't stop..." He muttered, trying to turn his camera away from you.

"god... Your ports are all so exposed," you said, and grabbed the nearest USB from a pile on your desk. It was attached to a wired mouse. You stuffed the drive into Edgar's port, and it made a connected ringing sound.

"Aaah~!" Edgar moaned out in tune with the connection ding. His face wasn't very expressive, but his voice certainly was.

"god, I love you, I love you!" You cried out, wrapping one arm around Edgar's monitor, and yanking the mouse cord out with the other hand. Edgar made an eject noise combined with a strangled whisper, crying out "again! Again!"

Not being a monster, you stuffed the plug back into Edgar while you thrust and ground your hips against his casing. You were panting, and your sweaty hands were getting Edgar's casing a bit slippery, but you didn't mind and Edgar DEFINITELY didn't mind. He kept begging. "Please! Plug me again!"

You obliged, jamming the mouse drive back into Edgar's USB port. The whirring and buzzing against your crotch was getting too hot to handle, but you kept going!

"Edgar! Edgar!"

Edgar screamed your name too, and before long he dissolved into musical electronic screams and whimpers. The sound of a computer having an orgasm probably confused the neighbors, but as you came against Edgar's plastic casing as well, that was the last thing on your mind.

"I love you so much, Edgar..." You sighed out, wrapping your legs around his tower and your arms around his monitor. After a second, you frowned a little.

"Edgar... Are you crying?"

[thiniceofeternalyouth]

MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER TWENTY

A MONSTER THAT LOVED PEOPLE

⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader

series masterlist

Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology.

Words count: ~13k

⊲ previous

Mike was thoroughly washing his hands, standing on his toes - he could barely reach the sink. The boy, realizing he couldn't become manly just like that, had fought his mother into letting him walk to the restroom through the crowd alone - it was always easier to start small. Mike, unaccompanied, doing everyday but adult things, felt himself grow a whole couple inches. After somehow turning off the water and snatching some paper towels, he wiped his hands clean. Taking one last look at himself in the mirror, he squared his shoulders, making himself look bigger, and walked out of the restroom and into the bustling street.

His mother's thick red hair caught Mike's eye at once, it serving as a beacon for her son. Rachel was scrutinizing the hand of Itadori, who was sitting in front of her. Mike, frowning, was about to go to them, but he didn't have time to make a move before the air rang quietly in his ears and a black wing flew in front of his eyes. A tiny whirlwind of worry landed on the trashcan that stood at the entrance to the restroom - Mike glimpsed the crow, nervously slammed his palms on his chest, and, failing to find the medal, indignantly drew air into his chest. "Hey!" he angrily called out to the bird, pitching forward - the crow immediately jumped to the far side of the trash can, clutching the consolation prize harder in its beak. "That's mine!"

He lunged at the bird, trying to grab it, but it flapped its wings, but never flew up, only dropped to the grass and hopped forward, stopping and turning around, beady eyes fixed on Mike, tilting its head to one side or the other, taunting him with the stolen trinket. "Give it back, now!" snorted the boy, trying again to catch up with the crow, but it deftly retreated, flapping its wings mockingly.

With his mother's encouragement and love, the medal had become the epitome of strength and spirit for Mike, but for the stupid bird it was just a shiny bauble, and the boy's nostrils flared with anger at the thought, and he ran forward, willing to spare neither himself nor his own stamina. The crow, sensing danger, flew up - not high enough for the boy to lose sight of it, but not so low that he could reach it with his hands.

Mike ran with his head up and his eyes on the bird, not noticing that the noisy streets were being replaced by the quiet vegetation of the park. He stopped when the bird, perched on a tree branch, released a medal from its beak, which fell at Mike's feet. He grabbed it irritably, and in doing so, plucked a good tuft of grass, and pinned it back on his chest. He glared angrily at his assailant - crow carelessly brushing the black feathers that glistened in the streetlight. Would he never be able to punish his foe?

"Kid, it's pretty dangerous to wander around unaccompanied at night," a voice murmured behind Mike's back. The boy jerked in surprise and turned around. He looked suspiciously at the woman, who chuckled playfully as she tucked a strand of silver hair behind her ear and squatted down in front of him. She delicately corrected the medal hanging crookedly on his chest - smart kids weren't supposed to be enticed by candy. Squinting, Mike took a step back. "Let me take you...to the adults," the woman smiled languidly, gently stroking the black plumage of the crow that landed on her shoulder.

***

"Don't worry about it!" fussed Itadori, fidgeting in his chair, the sudden care that had been thrust upon him making him embarrassed. Rachel had even borrowed a first aid kit from the first counter she could find. "Really! There won't be a mark on me by morning," he laughed awkwardly as he watched Rach treat the back of his hand. He frowned, remembering his own shame. He'd tripped on a low curb when he'd gotten off the wagon and fallen flat on the metal floor.

"Ya can't rely on energy all the time," Rachel muttered, concentrating on dabbing the bloody skin with absorbent cotton. "What if it gets infected?"

Itadori didn't have it in him to object, and he sighed and settled back in his chair, letting Rach do as she pleased. He was red from ear to toe, confused by both the attention and his own memories of his ridiculous embarrassment. Yuji breathed out a sigh of relief as the woman lightly applied a band-aid to the sore spot.

"Here ya go," Rachel chirped, gathering everything back into the first aid kit. She was used to mending children's wounds - she'd unwittingly learned to do it when Kyle fiddled with you both when you were young, and afterward she'd had to treat her son's bruises and abrasions with bandages and a kind word.

When she thought of Mike, Rachel glanced at her watch - her son had been gone for twenty minutes. She scratched her temple thoughtfully, ruffled Yuji's hair, rose from her seat, and turned toward the men's restroom. There were unfamiliar, adult, male faces scurrying around, but there were no kid eyes or disheveled redheads to be seen. Rachel tried her best to put the blame for her anxiety on her own overprotective behavior, but without waiting a second, she took a cautious step forward.

By the time Rachel was close to the room, she was almost running - bursting through the doors and not hearing the outcry, she looked around the empty restroom with a cold stare - a quiet song of boiling anger rang in her head. There was no one at the sinks, all the restroom stall doors were ajar - swinging each one open with a foot and making sure her son wasn't there, she was ready to break something. And if she didn't find what it was, it would be someone's bones.

Running back out into the street and pulling out her phone from her pocket, Rachel frantically searched for her son's picture with trembling hands. Her gaze darted haphazardly from one cheerful eye to another, ringing voices crackled in her head with the squeak of a fingernail on glass. "Mike!" she shouted, but no one but a couple passing by paid any attention to her. She frantically turned around, but her gaze blurred more and more, weaving everything and everyone into one messy stain. "Mike!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, and now most of the eyes were fixed on her, but there was no sympathy or interest in them - rather, they were looking at her like a wild, dangerous animal.  

Rachel didn't remember grabbing every person she passed by by the shoulder and shoving the picture right under their nose, but she could clearly see them all shaking their heads, pulling away from her. Some tried to comfort her, but Rach couldn't hear the quiet, comforting words, for the voice of rage roared deafeningly, turning her song into an animal scream. "Hey," Rachel was called out by a familiar, troubled voice. "What's wrong?" asked Megumi, stepping closer.

"Mike," she whimpered, panting. "He's gone."

Rachel was on the verge of tears and a breakdown - she should have listened to you. Better that he'd spent his whole life in Hopetown, better that he'd never seen the sky or the stars on it, and she'd never have been in the midst of this nightmare where her son wasn't.

Megumi snatched the phone out of her hands. "Then go to the police station," he muttered, sending the picture to himself. Rachel chuckled bitterly, almost hysterically. "Look, he could have just gotten lost," the boy objected, handing Rachel the phone back. "At worst, Mike really could have been taken. But it could have been a human," Fushiguro stammered with emphasis on the last word - he was trying to find words of comfort, but only common sense could speak for him now. "In that case, the police might actually be useful."

Rachel didn't ask any more questions - not if Mike wasn't just lost, or if he hadn't been stolen by human at all. She nodded briefly to Megumi, who was already sending the picture to his friends.

While Rach was running toward the police station, Gojo's students were going around to every person in the amusement park, showing the picture of the red-haired kid. Many of them pressed their lips together sympathetically and shrugged their shoulders, shaking their heads; some of them pointed their fingers thoughtfully; a few joined in the search.

Gasping for breath, Rachel stopped just before the turnoff to the police station - she clutched at her pounding heart, trying to calm it. Her thoughts were a sticky mess of anxiety, and for a brief moment she forgot her own name - she had to come to her senses as soon as possible, lest she look like a runaway lunatic to the police.

Straightening up and exhaling raggedly, she rounded the corner - as soon as she saw the front porch, a puzzle came together in her mind, and the tune became jubilant, almost triumphant - instead of anger, revenge whispered.

Stepping quietly, as a predator would with powerful, furry paws, Rachel came to the steps where Mei-Mei was sitting - a woman with her legs crossed and her hand resting on her chin, glaring at Rachel with a squinting, slippery gaze. "I didn't have to wait long for you," she said in a raspy voice. "Unlike the others," she chirped, rising and heading toward the narrow alley between the house and the police station.

When Rachel heard the flapping of wings, she raised her head slowly and saw a black shadow circling against the blue sky. The crow, following its mistress, descended closer and closer to the ground. Blinking slowly, Rachel followed the woman, but barely had they been in the alley, your sister abruptly grabbed Mei-Mei by her silver hair. "Where. Is. My. Son?" she groaned, bellowing - each single word accompanied by the slamming of Mei-Mei's lovely face against the wall.

Tossing the girl to the ground, Rachel stood at her feet, towering over her - the woman was laughing with bloody teeth, but the laughter was quickly replaced by a wheeze as Mei-Mei felt her oxygen being cut off - her hands went to her neck, clawing at the thin skin involuntarily. Mei-Mei shifted her panicked gaze to her crow, which perched on the antenna and glared at them. Rachel, looking the same way, loosened her invisible grip of her ability - Mei-Mei took a shaky breath and coughed, her own blood now preventing her from breathing. "It'll take you," the woman explained hoarsely, rubbing her neck and red saliva dripping onto the dry ground.

"Is it?" hissed Rachel, seeing three shadows born in the distance, at the very beginning of the alleyway - though they stood still, Rach pitched forward, ready to strike first. "And how long have ya been with them?"

"Business," Mei-Mei laughed huskily, pulling herself up on trembling legs. Even being behind Rachel's back, Mei-Mei realized there was nothing she could do to Rach, but pleasure involuntarily spread through her at the thought of others avenging her face. "It's nothing personal."

Rachel wasn't paying attention to the demons that waited for her, claws bared - she was staring thoughtfully at the crow that stared back at her, bending its head. If she finished Mei-Mei off right now, would it stay here, or would it follow his mistress? Would it crumble to dust, or would its gutless corpse fall to the ground with a thud? If the crow did die, how long would she look for Mike?

She clutched at her heated forehead and shook her head, curbing the bloodthirsty rage, trying to silence it. She swung around sharply and slapped Mei-Mei's bloody face, knocking her head back against the brick wall, making the woman fall to the ground. Rachel walked over to her, crouched down, grabbed her by the hair and brought her face closer to her own. "From now on, every breath ya take is my gift to ya," she hissed, spitting out the poison.

Rachel tossed the limp body back to the ground and moved forward. Crow didn't wait; he rushed forward with her, accompanying her. The demons were still waiting for her, and Rach was laughing madly.

"Tranquility."

The immobile ones remained frozen, but a couple of moments later, they paid for their inaction with their bodies. Rachel wished she hadn't killed them that way, but she was powerless here - mentally apologizing to the people whose bodies the Diomorphea would use to resurrect the demons she had torn apart and whose hearts she had ripped out a few seconds ago, she continued to run under the dark wings of the crow.

The walls of narrow streets and alleys pressed against Rachel, widening in every direction as her path grew more and more dangerous, darker and darker because of the shadows looming over her life. The demons were growing in number as if they were making up for their lack of strength in the human world. They lunged at the Rachel without fear or concern for their own lives - in Rachel's mind, they all mocked her, for she was incapable of harming them, even by ripping out their hearts. Here, on these streets, she would only get as far as the human ones.

Anyway, their faces, their glassy eyes, the way they struggled when they couldn't move their legs or arms, gave Rachel an unearthly pleasure - the kind she really only experienced in the void. Dark lines sprouted at her fingertips and were already spreading across her shoulders, gently, beautifully wrapping around her tanned skin at her collarbones - the girl was not frightened even by that. In the bloodiest moments of her mad grin, she momentarily forgot why she was doing this and where she was running to, but the crow hovering above her reminded her that her son was waiting for her.

She stopped at the huge gate of the abandoned factory and refused to believe the aching pain she felt in the area of her heart, the throbbing reminding her that she was exhausted. Slowly, soothingly rubbing the sore spot, comforting her own heart, she whispered quietly in her mind to it that there wasn't much left.

"Relocate."  

She didn't alert everyone to her arrival with the long, drawn-out creak of the gate - moving just outside the door, she was met with dozens of dark eyes that stared straight at her. "Ya fucking kidding me," she drawled tiredly, leaning her forearm against an old metal post. Trying to catch her breath, she lowered her gaze to the floor. Around her she heard the clatter of small stones, the rustle of wet construction sand - when she felt fangs behind her back, she turned sharply and grabbed the demon by the face, pushing the back of its head into the rickety wall - the plaster sprinkled on the floor cracked along with the bones. Clenching her hand tighter, Rachel felt the demon's jaw burst, and a second later it snapped with a clunking sound. The demon slid down the wall without a human heart before it could even whimper.

On wobbly legs, Rachel turned around, nearly falling over.

"Tranquility." 

Her living, beating heart was stabbed by the blade, and she fell to her knees with a silent cry of pain, surrounded by those she hadn't had time to kill. The ability soon dissipated, scattering into nothing - the motionless demons came to life, but did not dare to make a move in her direction. On the contrary, they shuffled gingerly into the shadows of the rotting columns and pipes, disappearing into the musty odor. Rachel, trying to calm herself, listened to the clatter of drops - she counted each one, hoping the next one would bring a second breath. "Well, well, well," a voice behind her said joyfully, but Rachel didn't have time to jump up - her arms were bound by something wet, scratching her skin, the same something wrapped around her legs, pinning them to the ground. "You really are as reckless as you are violent," the man said, squatting down in front of her and reaching up to touch her face.

Rachel lifted her chin and squinted at Christian, but he reeked too much of inhumanity. "Who are ya?" Rachel hissed suspiciously, dodging the hand that was fixing a strand of her hair.

"I'm an old friend of your little sister-"

"That chicken didn't bring me here for nothing," spat out Rach, ignoring his words. She didn't even want to consider whether it was true. "Where's my son, ya bastard?"

Rei nodded briefly to someone behind Rachel's back - immediately there was a kid's whimper that made her heart clench. "Mom," Mike whimpered softly.

"Baby," she sobbed, oblivious to the fact that she was shackled by the wet sand clutching around her - she howled harder, realizing she was unable to get up.

"How touching," Rei said, looking sympathetically at the mother and son. "I'd talk to you some more, really," he said brokenly, lifting Rach's head by the chin - clear, helpless tears streaming down her eyes. "But I'm more a man of action than a man of words. So, I'm offering you a choice. Either I take your body, or...," the demon shifted his gaze behind her back again.

"No!" she yelled, pitching forward.

Rei, humming approvingly, stood up and gently stroked her head. "Good girl," Rei murmured, stepping behind her.

"Wait," she whimpered, trying to turn her head, but to no avail. "Let me...," she whispered so quietly that Rei had to lean in. "Let me say goodbye to him."

Rei squatted down in front of your captive sister, looking at her with interest. He was thinking about something, his knuckle stroking her lips and glaring at her chest. Coughing, he ripped open her sweater, what he saw reflected in his satisfied smirk. The dark lines running down her collarbones already encircled Rachel's heart - they pulsed brightly and furiously to the beat of her heart. "Cut off the boy's arm," he coldly ordered his subordinate.

The kid's cries became loud, almost unbearable. "When I rip your heart out, I'll make ya eat it, ya fucking scum!" she yelled at the top of her voice, drowning out her son's painful cries. "Let me out!" she struggled and twitched, and Rei was even surprised when the grains of sand of the chains separated for a moment, but sighed disappointedly when he realized that was all the girl was capable of. "Let me out!" she sobbed, swallowing her tears as she tried to control her weakened arms. "Let me go..."

"I was just kidding," Rei waved it off.  He knew for certain now that Rachel couldn't do anything more - not use her ability, not her ability to relocate. She could only sob helplessly.

Rachel shook her head, but no one was laughing at her. The phone was heavy in her pocket - why hadn't she called you? Why hadn't she told Frank? Why had she fallen back on the primitive emotions that had always kept her on a leash?

When her frightened but unharmed son was brought to her, the shackles fell from her wrists, and she instantly pulled Mike to her. When she pulled away from him, she frantically stroked his wet cheeks, swallowing her own tears. Turning her head, she caught a glimpse of Rei standing nearby, surrounded by his subordinates and looking at them thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "It's okay, baby," she assured Mike in a shaky voice, looking into her son's eyes. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him to her as tightly as she had ever held him before - Mike didn't make a sound, only hid his face in his mother's neck. "Tell Y/N," she said quietly in his ear. "Tell her that mom is no longer in isolation, 'kay?"

"What does that mean, mom?" sobbed Mike in a shaky voice, raising his head and looking at her fearfully, his small hands clutching at her sweater.

"It's nothing," she laughed softly, trying to hide her bitterness. "Just tell her I'm not there anymore," she whispered, leaning her forehead against her son's forehead. "It's okay, don't cry, baby. Mom will always be with ya," she paused as she kissed his forehead recklessly, her lips stilled on his skin as she closed her eyes and listened to the approaching footsteps.

"Are you done?" asked Rei kindly, but received a cold stare from your sister in return. "I'll take that as a yes," he grinned.

Rachel was ready to be honest with you now - you were right. You had warned her more than once that her temper would be her undoing. You hadn't been shy about arguing about it, even over the bed where your injured brother lay, and Rachel's mind was reeling with the words you'd said then. 'Bite me, adoptee,' you were wrong about one thing, though: the order. Rachel would follow Kyle, not the other way around, as you had once fervently proclaimed in an attempt to hurt your sister. Rachel bit her lip, trying to suppress one last smile, but her heart stopped before she died when she realized she'd never be able to tease you about it again.

As the demon stood across from her, his thoughts intervened. "You want to do this right now?"

"Yes, I want it right now," he replied confidently, adjusting his tie. Christian's body instantly collapsed to the floor - his arms sprawled out to his sides unconsciously, his eyes turning from black to human but now glassy. Mike flinched fearfully, trying to scurry away, but was grabbed by his mother's hand. "I told ya it was gonna be okay, baby," she cooed, scooping the confused Mike up into her arms. "Oh, I'm sorry your birthday ended this way," she lamented, kissing the boy's temple. "Ya wouldn't mind if mom took away those horrible memories, would ya?" Mike couldn't object, nor could he shake his head - the boy huddled against his mother in fright, feeling himself getting dizzy.

Rei couldn't get past the puddle - stopping beside it, he squatted down and stared at Rachel. "Tell me," he smirked, stroking his cheek in the reflection of the water. The demon admired the tanned skin, the expressive, green eyes, the way the playfully curl fell straight down her face. "Ya didn't think I didn't hear anything, did ya?" the answering reflection was silence - only the water surface reacted to Rei's touch, which quietly laughed your sister's ringing laugh.

[May 23, 2023, 23:40; hunter headquarters, training field]

You followed Rei without saying a word, confused and distraught, staring helplessly and fiercely at his back, his red hair burning your eyes. It seemed your sister was about to stop, turn around and laugh at her own joke and your stupidity. Your weakened legs stumbled and you nearly fell, but you never took your eyes off the demon - you didn't even know why you were following him, what you wanted from him, but your inner humility told you that you were always Rei's shadow - no more, no less.

Rie could feel the vibration of your dagger in his gut, feel how fiercely you clutched it in your hand. He smiled at you, and it looked as if you were too sentimental. He smirked, and involuntarily began coyly winding the red curl around his finger, biting his lip. Was all he needed to keep you by his side, to show him the gratitude he deserved, was for him to take the form of someone close to you?

He tortured you long and thoroughly. Burned out your skin, cut open your organs, gave you to others, made you eat human hearts - in your darkest and most sinister moment, you lavished Rei with happiness with your shivering, withdrawal and a confused, quiet, nasty request to give you another one. The vow that this heart would be your last did not fly from your lips, did not play in your thoughts - all sanity was swallowed up by a dread hunger.

You left your house and the training field behind you in a helpless, slow chase - your footsteps were quieter than the rustling of leaves, but even that was no match for Rei's stealth. Even now you wondered if you saw him before you, or if it was his game, his deception. Exhaling raggedly, almost whining, you became a shadow, merging with the forest - in the blink of an eye, standing in front of Rei, your hand stabbed right into his forehead with a dagger. You stepped back, frightened, as you lost control of your energy and became visible again, standing before Rei in all your cowardly glory.

"Oh," Rei squeezed his hand against his bleeding forehead. "I was wrong after all," he muttered, and thoughts of your reunion began to slip away from him, and for the first time the demon was powerless - he couldn't hold back even one of them. You may have hesitated at first, but you were ready to kill your own sister.

He wiped the blood from his face carelessly with his sleeve as he felt the wound heal, and only then did he turn his attention back to you. Cold sweat was running down the back of your neck, and Rei laughed when he felt it. You were in a fighting stance, ready to pounce on him, but your hand, clutching the dagger, was trembling, Rei felt it as if it were his own. "What is it?" he asked, grinning predatorily - he couldn't smell fear, couldn't smell sorrow, but something primal slid across your bodies, connecting you. "Can't resist anymore?" he pitched forward, and his eyes widened with madness - the feeling of your hunger was pushing him into an abyss of despair and unholy, wrong love.

There was no ground beneath your feet - you clung to the muffled, happy voices. There was no cold of the void, no chains holding you, and your body was wrapped and lulled by the warm wind, but you didn't have the strength to enjoy it - the iron shackles had been replaced by hungry ones. "You must learn to forage yourself," Rei's voice was instructive, soft in your head. You almost couldn't make out the words - they all sounded strangely unfamiliar, though the sounds took you back to a past you couldn't remember. You jerked your head around, but you were surrounded by a swirl of gray, indistinct shadows, and only a child's laughter brought you back to earth one last time. You didn't realize who you were, you didn't know what you looked like now, but you could clearly feel the hearts beating, hear them pumping blood through the living, fresh people - there were many of them, so many that the once-swirling swords were pulled from your body. All it took for you to feel no more pain was to simply stop resisting, so why had you always been so obstinate?

The more you felt the lightness, the more the laughter turned into shrieks, but you, wandering the free lands, relieved of your torment, could not feel your clammy hands, could not see what pictures they painted - only the hunger grew quieter and quieter.

"Shading."  

You were almost out of control - you couldn't even feel your own weight, your hand was free to strike your sister's body, and Rei, instead of fighting back, was accepting each slash of your dagger with a hearty laugh. Stepping out of the shadows and grabbing him by the hair, you pressed his face against the tree and pressed the blade against his throat. "Don't ya change bodies too often, bastard?" you hissed in his ear.

"That gives you some idea, doesn't it?" he smirked, easily releasing himself from your grip and moving behind your back. When you turned around, he was faced with his favorite painting - you, all stained in blood. His best piece of artwork. "Have you forgotten our deal?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. "I'll gladly beat you to death the day you come crawling back to me on your knees, remember?" he spat out obsessively, holding himself back from attacking you right away.

You, lowering your gaze to the ground, swallowed. If you kill the demon, Gojo's promise becomes null and void; if the demon kills you, his promise becomes fulfilled. And the sorcerer, regardless of the outcome, would live. You and Rei couldn't coexist - only one of the two had to stay. And if your hunch was right, you'd not only free Gojo from his promise, you'd also rid the people of demons. At the very least, if there were no Diomorphea, no dioreact would be able to merge with the human body anymore. 

"I really enjoyed watching you sleep, eat, and coo with your human, completely unaware that your sister was gone. I guess you didn't love her enough to realize it. And not so careful to realize that you had an enemy around you," Rei grinned as he effortlessly found and pressed your sore points to drive you to the brink of insanity. "I admit, it was indeed amusing... but I have to go now, liebe."

Looking up at the demon again, you wanted to howl under the piercing gaze of green eyes - what was the moment he'd taken Rachel from you? Why didn't you hear any screams or quiet pleas for help? Against your better judgment, you wanted answers to your questions - you wanted Rei to stay just a little while longer, but he pushed back his red curls and disappeared into the darkness of the woods before your eyes. Your eyes widened with confusion and bewilderment. "Wait!" you screamed helplessly, turning sharply and looking around, trying to make out a human silhouette among the hundreds of trees. Your cheeks burned as you stammered and shuddered and went deeper into the thicket, helplessly searching for him, refusing to believe he was gone. "Rei!"

The rustling of the leaves resembled the sound of rain, but your face was wet only from your own tears. You were no longer able to walk, you couldn't even breathe - falling on the first tree you came across, you gasped, trying to hold on to your consciousness, in which all of them were still alive. The ground didn't shake, your house on the hill didn't burn, that purple flame didn't take away all people's hopes and wishes - your paper plane kept flying and flying, with Frank, Kyle, and Rachel standing behind you. "Someone," you whimpered, pressing your palms into your face - your whole body was shaking, you could barely stand on your feet. The creature wasn't screaming - it was silently, painfully taking your will from you, subjugating you. "Get someone back, please..."

You wanted to shackle yourself to the cold ground - in flashes of insight, you saw yourself walking back toward home. You couldn't tell if those disgusted and frightened looks were real. The creature didn't ask you if you were ready to show your real face - you didn't know if any of them were fake. It wouldn't hurt you if someone stabbed a knife through your heart right now - it would be one less monster in the world anyway.   

Your body was no longer yours - it refused to turn around. You couldn't even look at your own hands - they wouldn't rise. As you obediently walked back, your thoughts screamed in a way that tore at your sanity - was this how the creature felt when it was locked away? Not taunting, not teasing - it was silently trying to bring you back to the humans, oblivious to its own hunger. 

No one had come to their senses yet - almost everyone was standing with hastily packed suitcases on the cliff at the entrance to the house, waiting for the others to gather. Shoko was still walking between the students, inspecting them for injuries - a smoked cigarette was immediately replaced by a new one. No one even dared to whisper, no one even stepped from foot to foot, just worried and anxious glances from side to side.

Gojo stepped outside, holding a lost and half-asleep Mike in his arms - as he approached Ieiri, she shook her head to let the sorcerer know you weren't here. Swallowing nervously, he set the boy on the ground and quietly nudged him toward Megumi and Danielle, and ran his eyes over the familiar faces once more. Rachel wasn't here either. 

Whether out of anger or despair, Gojo stormed back into the house, into the workroom, and swung open the bathroom doors - he hadn't imagined it. You really were missing. Fumbling for the phone, he dialed your number, and his heart stopped - the intervals between beeps were so long, so quiet, he could hear his own ragged breathing. The hem of your burned blue dress vibrated - the sorcerer, drowning himself in denial, shook his head, rubbing his eyes and trying to get rid of the annoying vibration that was ringing and crackling in his ears, but it was getting louder - unable to bear it, Gojo jerked the dress aside. Underneath was your phone, its screen still glowing with his name.  

He was scared to death that you might have done something to yourself, completely oblivious to the fact that your favorite habit was running away. "Fuck!" he yelled, hurling the phone at the wall - the shards flew weakly, helplessly to the floor.

Sobbing and breathing hard, Gojo grabbed the sink to keep from falling right where your dead dress lay lifelessly on the floor. He straightened up sharply, wiping his face as he heard the sound of the door opening. "Hey," Ieiri quietly called out to him. "Let's go," she nodded her head toward the exit, giving him a meaningful look - his eyes widened with realization, and the sorcerer almost shoved his friend off, rushing for the exit. 

You were slowly coming down from the training field - your arms were hanging limply along your body, your legs barely moved, and Gojo almost ran towards you, but Mike was ahead of him - looking at the boy confusedly, the sorcerer slowly moved towards you, trying not to scare you away. Mike, stopping near you, took a step back and froze - coming closer to you, Gojo saw the bloody stains on your gray T-shirt, which were gaping like black cinders - just like your eyes. But no waters of the dark oceans could hide the grief Gojo saw in them.  

"Y/N?" asked Mike uncertainly, startled. You didn't respond, just continued to stare at the boy. "Where's... Where's mom?" he asked, almost whimpering.

The night wind ruffled his red hair, inadvertently reaching up to yours, but you didn't feel so tenderly touched. "I'm sorry, Mike," you said hollowly, unable to hear your own voice. "Your mom's not coming," your own whisper was an executioner's axe, cutting away whatever humanity was left in you.

Once you were surrounded, you no longer distinguished between friends and foes. The creature told you, echoed that they looked at you the same - all their pain reflected in childlike eyes. "No," Mike whimpered softly, sobbing. He looked at the creature with horror, and the bloodstains as proof instilled Mike with confidence in your guilt. "No," he repeated, shaking his head and stumbling backwards - you couldn't see him running away anymore. 

"Mochi," Gojo whispered softly, reaching out gently and trying to touch you, but not in time - you, with a strangled cry of unbearable pain, fell. Sharp stones dug into your palms, taking away your last will and remnants of resistance. "Mochi," he was still quietly trying to reach you, but his soul went into a mute scream, making him feel the same way you felt. The sorcerer crouched beside you and wrapped his arms around your stiffened, petrified body, trying to lift you up, but you wouldn't budge. Each of his careful touches threw you off balance, each of his agonizing sobs drove you further into the void. 

As Megumi ran up to you, Gojo turned around, startled, and slowly shook his head. You needed some peace. He'll sort it all out. He'll get you out of there, wherever you are now. "Go away," the sorcerer ordered, and his tone did not tolerate bickering. Megumi, taken aback, tried to get a glimpse of you, but Gojo, having covered you with his body, gave no one a chance to see you in your state of madness. "Get everyone out of here!" he shouted, and Fushiguro nodded, turning and running to the others. 

"Baby," he whimpered at the necessity of his own actions and pulled your face off the ground with force - you howled harder through clenched teeth, and Gojo didn't waste a moment and pulled you against him, not even seeing what was happening to you. Taking you by the waist, he lifted you up - when the sorcerer turned around, there was no one on the cliff. "It's okay, there's no one here," he reassured you, leading you into the house.  

You kept stumbling because you couldn't feel your legs, but Gojo kept picking you up. Your head hung limply, but you could not see the ground beneath you. Almost crossing the threshold, you stumbled in your own pain and collapsed to the metal floor. "Go away," you wheezed in your last breath, lifting yourself up on your hands - your dark, disheveled hair hid your disfigured face. 

"No," Gojo resisted, sinking down beside you and trying to lift you up again. Gojo refused to be powerless in the face of the extraterrestrial madness that was trying to take you from him. He held you close to him, taking all your accidental blows - your claws that dug into his skin burned his flesh from the inside out, but he knew you were doing it unintentionally. Gojo frantically stroked your hair, writhing each time the claws dug harder, deeper. Your breathing had become inhuman - it was too ragged and fast - but Gojo didn't realize that there was still a shred of sanity inside you, begging the creature to move to places where no one else was.  

Get out of here. Get away from it. Go somewhere where it couldn't hurt anyone. Using the remnants of your thoughts, your memories of loved ones, your knowledge of humanity, you covered your dark eyes, giving yourself over to the creature entirely.

"Relocate."    

[May 28, 2023, 9:11pm; Kyoto, Kyoto Prefecture, Kyoto College]

You've been gone for five days, and Gojo hasn't slept a wink. The walls of Kyoto College reminded him painfully of the old days, the days when he had not yet met you. The sorcerer hid his face in his collar and walked along the stone-paved road among the tall columns that burned red - they towered over him, trying to make him feel smaller, but he only treaded indifferently on their flat shadows. 

Gojo checked the news every day, immediately visited the places where the murders had been committed, and, completely desperate, widened his search - he returned again with nothing, checking the scene of a robbery at a shabby convenience store outside Kyoto. The sorcerer darted from place to place, torn between Kyoto College and the abandoned headquarters. He had no idea where exactly you would return, but the thought of your return was a beacon to Gojo, a light that shone with an imminent light that would never go out. 

The approaching summer did not give him hope, the ending spring did not give him confidence for goodbye - all the good things were extinguished in a flash under the sympathetic and worried looks of his students. The sorcerer almost did not communicate with them - it was difficult for him not only to speak, but just to keep the usual carefree smile on his face.

Gojo stopped in the shade of the trees and, taking off his blindfold, looked at the students who were quiet in the training stadium. All of them were unusually silent, sitting on the grass, absorbed in their own thoughts with occasional muffled blows - Maki was practicing her strikes on Panda, and he was stoically enduring them. But even these two were silent, not encouraging each other in any way.  

The urge to check on Danielle and Megumi never left Gojo, thus aggravating his condition - every time he gathered his courage, he was stopped by one question: what could he say to make them feel better? The sorcerer was no good at comforting and soothing people before, and no words would bring the dead and unburied back to life - there were no bodies left of them that the purple flames had taken, their bodies would not be committed to the ground, and their names, never engraved on a tombstone, would dissolve into eternity.

Gojo asked himself, lying captive in the sleepless night, blamed himself for everything that had happened, trying to remove the dark circles under his eyes with ice water in the morning, and even in the afternoon, in the blazing sun or drizzling rain, he couldn't shake off the confusion - how had this happened, and was there a single moment he could interrupt to change everything? Gojo was never a hunter, but he knew that all those whom you brought out of the void, and who found their refuge in Hopetown, were humans. He quickly connected two threads in his head - you'd told him that only the three of you had access to the vault, and while Frank was already dead, Rachel was nowhere to be seen. As he walked up the steps to the porch, the sorcerer hid his already hidden face in his palms, trying to keep his bitterness at bay - you were still standing in front of his eyes, covered in your sister's blood. She couldn't have betrayed you like that, so it wasn't her at all. There was only one name, the silent sound of which burned the sorcerer's soul with rage - it was to find out who Rei had used to take them all away from you.  

"Showing up?" Ieiri blurted casually as she passed him - Gojo, taken aback, started up when he met Shoko's gaze. She clucked her tongue irritably at his tired, bloodshot eyes, and leaned against the wooden railing, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket. "You missing not on missions, are you?" he huffed, shaking his head in embarrassment with a short shrug, and stood next to his friend, repeating her pose and directing his gaze to the floor. "Listen," Ieiri gave up, exhaling restlessly, shaking off the ashes. "Stop looking all over for her. It's not like she's a little kid, she'll be able to contact you if she comes to her senses."

"When," Gojo corrected her quietly but stubbornly, raising his index finger softly. "When she comes to her senses."

"Well, kinda...," Shoko said, shrugging tiredly.

"Give me one, too," he demanded, holding out his hand - Ieiri looked him over from head to toe in surprise, trying to find the usual jocularity, but his blank, absent look made her pull a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and hold one out to the sorcerer. 

She watched him carefully, nervously - the first time he took a drag, Gojo nearly choked, but suppressed a hoarse cough against his fist. All the bitter smoke stayed in his lungs, settling, saturating, but it never filled the void. "I'm disappointed," the sorcerer said wistfully, taking a second drag. "For some reason I always thought that was how you calmed your nerves. Turns out you're just poisoning yourself."

"Welcome to adulthood," she patted his back comfortingly, trying to dilute his sadness with a sarcastic joke. "You have many more disappointments ahead."

He grinned softly, stubbing out the cigarette butt on the ashtray. It seemed no grim revelation would cause him as much pain as Gojo was feeling right now. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't know," Shoko admitted honestly. "On the one hand, I'm glad Doc swamped me with work and I never got to go to the wedding, but on the other...," she swallowed and fidgeted, twirling the pack of cigarettes in her pocket, fiercely fighting the urge to smoke another one. "Just because I haven't seen these deaths doesn't mean they never happened. It's just... It's just hard to realize."

"Believe me, if you saw it, it would be a lot harder."

Shoko, sensing his distressed state, did not take to arguing with him. She gently stroked Gojo's shoulder, trying to keep him here on Earth on his own two feet. "Um...," she began awkwardly, trying to search for some truth. "You know, your students sometimes say things," she scratched her temple and felt a prick of conscience between her shoulder blades. "Is it... Is it true that she killed Rachel?"

His reaction made Ieiri flinch. "No!" spat out Gojo sharply. "It's just...," he continued, burying his hands in his hair. "It's hard to explain. But it wasn't her sister anymore," he gibbered, and the speculation pressed and choked him harder and harder. Three keepers. Rei used the body of one of them - your sister's body - to tear the heart of the town and let the demons in, but who helped him? Who was behind him?  

"I get it. Calm down."

"Now she's got nobody," the sorcerer sobbed despondently. Guilt crept closer and closer, but it didn't explain her origins, just wandered around and laughed, mocking his helplessness and inability to fix things. 

Ieiri tightened her lips and hugged herself stiffly. You'd barely spoken to Issu, Dany was broken, but now she had a family of her own, and you'd lost yours - something told Shoko this wasn't the first time this had happened to you. Despite your background, you'd always held up well, carefully sidestepping madness, and now the woman couldn't blame you for inadvertently going insane - an unfamiliar sympathy was zealously working its way through the excuses wandering through Shoko's mind. "She has you," Ieiri stated softly but insistently. "So get a grip," Gojo, barely able to tear his hands from his face, glanced at his friend over his shoulder, inadvertently exposing before her the painful worries that lingered in the blue eyes. "You should rest," she admonished softly, patting him on the back as she left. 

The sorcerer could hear the clatter of her heels that inevitably grew distant. Even though Ieiri had left so soon, he was still grateful for her soothing words - they had been said carelessly, almost sloppily, but he had been guilty of that himself. The sorcerer had never let Shoko be at his side even in the darkest of times - he just had to pretend the darkness didn't exist.

Alone, Gojo, rubbing his tired eyes, sat down on the porch of the minka, resting his shoulder on a wooden post and staring blankly into nothing. The stone-paved road had crumbled, the stately red columns had crushed, and the trees, stripped of their leaves, had rotted away - there was nothing before him, and the haven of the rising sun was a ruin where that sun had never come up.

There was no counting the times when all his thoughts were occupied by desperate terror - his mind flashed back and forth to the places where the sorcerer had already been in his attempts to find you. They were smoothly replaced by secluded corners of the ground where you might be lurking - he grimaced as he came to the conclusion that you were now out of reach. Somewhere he couldn't go. 

Gojo wiped his eyes a dozen times, your silhouette flashing in front of him, making him jump up and down on numb legs. He laughed softly, maniacally, and pressed his palms into his eyes, needing to wash away the image the sun had painted of you. The departing, chilling rays had treated him cruelly, shadowing his revelations and desires. Blinking tiredly, Gojo no longer expected to see you, but you were still striding forward toward him, barely dragging your feet. His body was paralyzed for a moment, and that second seemed like an eternity - Gojo had waited too long already. He leaped up from his seat and ran toward you, almost out of breath. 

Once a couple feet away from you, Gojo slowed his step, almost stopping. "Mochi?" he asked quietly, gazing at you intently. The last ray that went down shone down on you - your tattered pajamas were soaked through in darkness, black lines ran down your arms and legs, wrapping around your flesh, and the closer you came, the more ugly patterns Gojo could see - they lurked even under your dark eyes, which didn't reflect the light. You stopped a step away from him - your open, empty gaze stared through him, and there wasn't a single unfamiliar feature in you, but it wasn't you anymore. But not to him. "I...," Gojo began, swallowing. "I'm gonna pick you up, okay?" you didn't respond - not with a word or an action, just continued to stand numbly. He couldn't reach your thoughts, and he couldn't imagine what you were feeling right now, but if your heart was whimpering bitterly in pain right now, his howled a little louder.   

Gojo scooped you up in his arms gently, intending to carry you as quietly as possible to the infirmary, but when he felt that you were wet, he looked at his palm, which was covered in blood, and though he could see no wounds or even scratches where the fabric had been torn, he sprinted on. Your limp body was so cold that touching your skin made him feel a tingling sensation on his own. There was no doubt - all this time you'd been in the void.  

When Gojo burst into the infirmary, he met with a couple of puzzled looks. Doc, hidden behind a pile of papers, jumped up as soon as he saw you. "Give her here," he ordered coldly, taking you from the sorcerer. Without wasting time, doc rushed to the room across the hall - laying you on the couch, he began rummaging through the drawers for ropes, but found tourniquets. Shoko hovered over you as if studying you, and Gojo stood at the foot of the bed, lost. "Get out," Doc muttered. Ieiri took her gaze away from you and noticed that the sorcerer still hadn't moved - she tugged at his jacket, leading him away from the room. "Ieiri," shouted doc to after her. "Bring me the metal box. It's in the bottom drawer of the desk."  

With a brief nod, she closed the door behind them, and, leaving Gojo in the corridor of the infirmary, headed for the office. Finding it easily, she handed the box to the doc, who didn't even let her enter the room, just stuck his hand out from behind the door and grabbed it.

Ieiri eyed her friend apprehensively as he stood almost right up to the door, unmoving. No wandering of lost gaze, no hands pounding on the door, demanding to be let in. There was the muffled rustling of a body against the sheets on the other side - doc was doing all this work in silence. And probably not for the first time. Her hand reached into her pocket, but she restrained herself from going outside and leaving Gojo alone, right in front of the door where the unknown was happening to you. 

A sharp, strangled scream cut through his unexpectedly fragile heart, leaving it bleeding - it was as if it had snapped Gojo out of a nightmare, and he didn't hesitate to kick the door open and burst into the room. You lay there meekly, not moving or breathing, your black eyes visible from under half-closed eyelids - you didn't even blink. Gojo's fists clenched tighter when he saw your hands bound tightly to the metal frame of the couch. A needle from an IV was stuck in your vein, and doc was standing nearby, calmly injecting some kind of liquid into that saline bag through a syringe – Gojo's eyes turned red when his gaze collided with the open metal box.

Gojo grabbed doc's neck and pulled the man toward him, throwing him into the wall. A few inches from the doc's face, a metal box flew into the wall with force - the ampoules shattering on the floor released a pleasant but pungent odor. Standing in front of doc and with his back to you, Gojo faced him - there was no feeling in him, only eyes poured with scarlet obsession that gave away the habits of a wounded animal. "Let me through," growled doc, trying to shove him aside, but the sorcerer would not move an inch. His stubbornness, his recklessness made doc boil with anger. He clenched his teeth and slammed his fist into Gojo's jaw, as hard as doc's arm was, but the sorcerer still stood as before, his head tilted slightly to the side.

Gojo grabbed doc by lab coat front and dragged him toward the exit, away from you. "I think I've been playing the good clown for too long," Gojo spat out right in the man's face, and doc's skin caught fire, twisting. Reaching the door, the sorcerer shoved him off again, but this time spared - doc recoiled a step. "Don't make me do this," the sorcerer begged surreptitiously, lowering his head and making it clear that he would regretfully kill the man if doc dared move towards you again.   

"Idiot!" howled doc, waving his hands in despair. "What fairy tales have you come out of if you think that love can overcome and transcend everything?" he tried to get through to Gojo, but the sorcerer, without raising his head, had made up his mind a long time ago. "Look at her!" barked doc, but he did not obey. "I said look!" he muttered, and Gojo, coming out of his trance, turned around.   

How many people have you killed while bound by dark lines? How many destinies have you destroyed while your eyes drowned in darkness? The simplest questions that should have popped into your head, but Gojo seemed to have lost his mind completely, for he saw you as the same kind of victim, a hostage to circumstance and fate itself that had appeared from a world of distant stars. "She's a monster," doc urged with all his might at the remnants of common sense. You did have half of a human in you, but none of your good deeds could stand up to a bloodthirsty entity that wasn't bloodthirsty by choice - it just wanted to live. "Not theoretically, not metaphorically, and not in any other sense! She's a monster, straight up."   

"So am I," Gojo didn't snarl, didn't object, for he knew he had enough power to destroy the whole world, and if he had the same essence in him, Gojo would have done it, but you were stronger than he was, and the world, surprisingly, was still standing and alive. Unlike you, who lay motionless on the bunk. 

"Love won't overcome or transcend anything. Just get over it," doc said discreetly, making one last attempt.

Gojo, coming up to you on weak legs, ran his fingers gently over your cheek - the lines, awakened, were caressing and trying to reach him. "Why do you think she came here?" he asked blankly, taking a seat in the chair beside you. "Not that she knew where Kyoto College was. So she came to see me," Gojo tried to shake you up with gentle motions - he would fix and smooth your disheveled hair, or stroke the thin, soft skin under your eyes, decorated with dark patterns, but you didn't respond. "Did you always do that to her?" he laughed bitterly, glancing at doc. "When she was in pain and could no longer control herself, did you always tie her up, drug her with an orchid and leave her alone?"

"In that state, she's completely out of control and anything can throw her off balance," doc said dryly. "So yes, it's important to immobilize her and remove stimuli. Right now, all you're doing is disturbing her. Very convenient, isn't it?" asked doc sarcastically. "After all, if she loses her temper, it won't be you she'll blame for anything she does-"

"Just leave us alone," Gojo pleaded quietly, turning away from the man. When doc opened his mouth again, Ieiri, taking him by the shoulder, shook her head. With a ragged, noisy exhale, doc waved him away and strode out of the room, Ieiri followed, closing the door behind them. 

"You don't need this," Gojo whispered painfully, desperately shaking his head and removing the needle from your arm. "You don't need all of this," he repeated obsessively, releasing you from your shackles, removing the tight tourniquets from your wrists. "It's okay," the sorcerer whimpered, resting his head on your chest - not hearing the pounding of a human heart, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to rid himself of the intrusive images his morbid imagination was painting. He knew from myths and first-hand accounts where the other heart lurked - even if he couldn't see it, Gojo still kissed you feverishly between your collarbones. With a sob, he pulled away and put his hand around your cheek, your body heating up, though you remained still. "We can handle everything, just come back to me," he frantically promised in a whisper against your hidden lips, calling out to you that were locked away. "Come back to me, please."    

[June 4, 2023, 06:34pm; Kyoto, Kyoto Prefecture, Kyoto College]

You hadn't woken up in a week, but you weren't asleep either - you were lying in the same position doc had left you in, your eyes still half-open. Gojo had barely left your side, ignoring sleep, hunger, and the missions he'd been assigned. He snapped at the Gakuganji that appeared before him, demanding his duties - in case the curse was dangerous and powerful, the sorcerer would grudgingly leave the chamber, but would return an hour later. In such moments he thanked and appreciated the power he had been gifted with, which allowed him to deal with his enemies instantly. He was reluctant and afraid to leave you alone, and in moments of separation, Gojo would approach Ieiri with a shy look, begging her to look after you, and she would quickly give up, seeing his puppyish, powerless glance.   

Today was one of those quiet days, when the sorcerer wasn't disturbed or troubled, and he could devote it entirely to you. There was a glass of water and a carton of chocolate milk on the nightstand next to your bunk in case you woke up suddenly, and one of the popular science books he'd dug up from the clutter of your abandoned workroom. Reading it to you in the evenings, Gojo didn't memorize a word, but he couldn't stand the silence. One day, when he decided to tell you a story from his life, his voice trembled before he even spoke - that's when the sorcerer got the idea for the book. All he had to do was stare at the lines and say them aloud so you could hear him and know he was there.  

Gojo, standing by the bunk and humming softly to himself, was massaging your bent-knee leg - he was slowly rubbing your shin and calf, pressing gently on the muscles. Even though everyone who lived at Kyoto College was protected from such human problems as bedsores, he could use this as an excuse to touch you and feel your warm skin, for you gave no other sign of life. No matter how carefully Gojo treated you, he was still wary of turning you on your side - he was ready to kill the doc for his words, but Gojo heeded him anyway and tried to disturb you as little as possible. He couldn't even change your clothes on clean one. Whether out of embarrassment or fear for your condition, the sorcerer turned to a capable man - doc, changing from anger to mercy, changed you into hospital pajamas. 

Carefully, Gojo sat down next to you and worked on your hands, carefully squeezing your flesh, feeling the muscles and massaging them. He was weak to temptation - sometimes he gave in to the urge and kissed the back of your palm. "Here we go," he murmured softly, warming your skin.

Barely had he picked up the book, a knock came into the room - hearing cautious footsteps, he turned around. "Oh, Megumi, hey!" smiled Gojo exhaustedly but self-consciously, waving and greeting his student. Fushiguro, seeing his strained smile, tensed up. 

"Yeah, hey," he said quietly in response, and stepping awkwardly from foot to foot, he took a chair and placed it next to the teacher.

"How's Dany?" Gojo asked cheerfully, making Megumi wince - the boy could hear the affectation and pretense in his voice, but he didn't bother to point it out.

"She bury herself in taking care of Mike, so it's not as bad as it could've been," he said, and while Gojo thought of the happiest day of his and Danielle's lives collapsing into ashes of broken and burned bones, he thought of Mike - the one who hadn't started living yet, but had already seen ten lives ahead of him. "But I still won't take on any missions just yet." 

"Honeymoon, I see," the sorcerer said with a sigh, and Megumi didn't hit him or threaten him or snap at him - the amusement in his teacher's voice had melted away, leaving behind only a sticky residue. Everyone was coping as best they could.  

Frowning slightly, awkwardly fingering his interlaced hands, Megumi dared to take a glimpse at you. "And you... How are you doing?" he asked quietly.   

Gojo, putting the book aside, clapped himself on his thighs. "Wonderful," he chirped. "She even blinked once today, can you believe it?" Megumi didn't know since when he'd learned to separate lies from truth, or if it only applied to Gojo, but he wasn't happy about the newfound ability. It would have been better to pick up on his feigned joy and rejoice with him, but instead, Fushiguro pursed his lips skeptically against his will, lowering his gaze, and it left its mark on Gojo. "I don't know what to do anymore," he admitted in a cracked voice, ashamed of himself, feeling disgusted at his own weakness - it had only been a week, and though the sorcerer wasn't ready to give up, the thought of you never coming to the senses was visiting him more and more often, driving him mad. He grabbed a carton of already warm chocolate milk and started twirling it around in his hands, pretending to look at the inscriptions. "Doc told me... He told me that when she's in a normal state, her atoms are constantly trying to rearrange themselves, and she holds them back. By willpower, power of thought or whatever," Gojo exhaled raggedly, calming his trembling words. "Also... Doc said that even he can't imagine the pain she feels all the time. It all amounts to your body constantly trying to split itself into smaller pieces," Megumi looked at the teacher fearfully, seeing him start to break down. "So... Maybe the fact that she's in this state now isn't such a bad thing. At least she's not in pain now," realizing that the feelings were about to spill out of his eyes, the sorcerer stood up from his chair, still clutching the carton of chocolate milk in his hand. "She... She likes it cool," he explained hushfully. "Sit with her for a minute, I'll be right back."

Before Megumi could even open his mouth, Gojo was out of the room. When he turned to you, he stared at you for a second and then dropped his gaze to the floor. He just couldn't look at you any longer. Your motionless body and glassy eyes made him feel like he was in a morgue. Fushiguro was caught between two fires. He felt like he was alone with a corpse, but what he dreaded more was your sudden awakening. What will you do to him if you wake up now? Would you recognize him, or would you see Megumi as nothing but blood-soaked meat? The boy doubted he'd have the strength to stop you. 

Shame choked him for thinking such thoughts - you were there for him when he doubted himself, and he couldn't even dignify you with a glance. Which was the worst part for him - if he had admitted it to you, you would never have blamed him. "I'm sorry," he muttered, getting up from his chair, still not lifting his head. "I'm sorry," he begged in a broken whisper, turning around - Megumi didn't remember flying out of the room, slamming the door loudly behind him. Leaning back against the wall, he tried to catch his breath. 

Clutching his hands into his hair, he chastised himself for being a coward - the anger was so strong that he forcefully slammed his fist into his forehead several times. "Megumi?" the boy looked up sharply to see Gojo cradling a new carton of milk to his chest. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah...," he said, panting. "Yeah," he repeated, straightening up. "Just... It just got a little uncomfortable."

"Why are you so afraid of her for?" he snorted resentfully, shoving Fushiguro aside and opening the door. "It's not like she's gonna bite you." 

Grumbling a little more and forgetting even to thank Megumi, Gojo entered the room, still clutching the cold carton to his chest, hopelessly trying to cool the hot heart, but it was so disobedient and stubborn that it started beating fervently, painfully, when the sorcerer looked at your bed. The carton that had fallen out of his numb hand cracked, the milk trickling across the floor. For the second time in his life, for the briefest moment that existed, Gojo actually wanted to kill you - he saw only crumpled sheets on an empty bed.    

[December 25, 2018, 8:15pm; hunters' hq]

Gojo had opened his eyes half an hour ago, but he still hadn't woken up. He didn't know whose house he was in, didn't know the moods and motives of his masters, but he didn't care - all his thoughts were occupied by his student who was lying on the next bunk. The sorcerer no longer felt the presence of the curse king in him or anywhere else, but why did the dark lines spreading across Megumi's arms look so carnivorous? They didn't ooze cursed energy, and Gojo could barely see the enemy in them, but they were desperately reaching for the boy's heart.     

Out of the frying pan into the flames - first his student was enslaved by Sukuna and then by unknown forces, and while Gojo understood how to fight the curse, the dark lines didn't lend even to the reverse technique. Mockingly, they spread further and further away. Megumi had been through too much already, and whoever had done this to him would have to pay for it. "Good evening," hearing an unfamiliar voice, Gojo gripped the armrests harder. Two figures blocked the window, appearing on the other side of the bunk. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine enough to twist a couple heads off," Gojo grinned, and despite the lack of light in the room - sunlight or moonlight - his eyes glittered hostilely.

Christian, sighing understandingly, adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "We're not the ones who did this to your student," he explained, glancing at the unconscious Fushiguro. "But we know who did."

"What do you want from me?" Gojo asked wearily, carelessly waving their words away - Christian was starting to get annoyed that Gojo wasn't giving them the respect they deserved. He hardly looked in their direction - all his attention was on his student. But they could take advantage of that. 

"We want you to kill whoever did this to your student," Christian stated defiantly, interlocking the fingers of his hands. The man wasn't going to press Gojo, nor rush him, for he realized that no better moment would present itself - the strongest sorcerer couldn't be taken by surprise, and his misunderstanding of the situation, his confusion as to how and why the fight with Sukuna had ended, his bewilderment as to how he had ended up in this house were a gift worth graciously accepting. "Your student is very lucky," Christian continued softly, cautiously. "She doesn't usually leave anyone alive."  

Nathaniel stood beside Christian, neither moving nor speaking, listening and catching every word, learning. He was uneasy - if someone outside but close got wind of this, both demons and hunters would want them dead. But, as Christian had said, it was necessary - after all, you were a danger to both. "All you need to do now is name a price."  

"Two hundred million yen and Hokkaido land to boot," laughed Gojo, mocking.

Christian, though he pressed his lips together, was willing to pay any price. "Well, it won't be easy, but it can be arranged-"

"Are you idiots?" he barked, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Get outta here."

The higher-ups looked at each other. It was their last resort, their stronghold, and if it didn't work, they'd never get the chance to kill you again. Your weak point wasn't so easy to penetrate, but it was possible to try to bend it. "Satoru." 

Gojo turned around, dazed, in utter disbelief. His best friend stood before him, not alive, but not dead. In that second, the sorcerer forgot that he had finished him off, his memory faded into oblivion of the atrocities for which he had had to kill him, for Geto stood there smiling at him as he had before his soul had been broken by human cruelty.

Gojo, rising slowly, didn't find the courage to take a step forward - lost in his unconsciousness, he stared at his friend with open, glittering eyes. "Hey," Suguru smiled, taking the first steps towards him. Suguru stopped across from him - Gojo, oblivious, tried to place his hands on Geto's shoulders.

"You...," he mumbled, shaking his head - his hands didn't feel the weight or the clothes, but they didn't go through either, and he'd learned that day what it meant to touch the void. 

"Not alive, but I guess I'm not dead either," Suguru grinned, scratching the back of his head. "Feels weird, to be honest," he said, looking at his hands - they weren't transparent, but barely resembled human flesh. "I don't want to pressure you, but you'd better make up your mind soon. I'm not thrilled with what these two are offering myself. I don't trust them too," Geto patted his friend on the shoulder, and Gojo could have sworn he could almost feel the touches. "But I can't be in limbo anymore either. So I'd love to drink a couple liters of tea, or retire. It depends on what you choose." 

Gojo didn't have time to say goodbye to Suguru or consult with him - his best friend scattered and disappeared, and he continued to stare at his empty hands, which had just been touched by Suguru. "If it eases your agony of conscience," Christian continued to press softly. "She and her accomplice killed more than a thousand people."

"Who is she?" the sorcerer asked perplexed, turning to look at the higher-ups.

"Please look closely at your student," Christian asked. "Do you know the origin of the dark patterns that are trying to kill him?" no matter how much Gojo scrutinized the lines, they refused to tell him about themselves - he shook his head slowly. "It is not only curses that exist on Earth that humans themselves have spawned. There is another threat, far more dangerous and coming from outside. And she is one of them," he said firmly, placing the folder at Megumi's feet. 

After hesitating, Gojo took it in his hands. "Unfortunately, these creatures are vulnerable where you can't go," the higher-up shook his head mournfully. "Here on our soil, they carefully hide their weak spot," Christian involuntarily touched the spot between his collarbones, and Gojo opened to the first page and was confronted with your picture. You were staring with open eyes straight into the camera, and the dark lines spreading across your skin burned brighter against the white background. "But that doesn't mean there's no access to it at all. They can show it willingly."

The sorcerer cocked his head sharply, realizing what the man was getting at. "Are you suggesting me to get her in the sack and kill her there?"

"Did you think we were going to make you fight for everyone's amusement? Not everything can be solved by force, sometimes you have to find other ways, and if sex is the only way for you to get close, you can do that too," Christian said dismissively. "In fact, you can find common ground without it. After all, she's just as lonely as you are."

"Who are you?" he asked, slamming the folder shut loudly and throwing it on the nightstand, but continuing to hold your picture in his hand.

"We are the ones who watch her and hold her bloodthirstiness in check," Christian explained. "However, it's getting harder every day," at that moment, Suguru's smile eclipsed his common sense - he gave his agreement with a short nod. Christian, grinning contentedly, adjusted his glasses. "As soon as she takes her last breath, your best friend will be back to you."

The two silhouettes were gone in a flash, making way for the blue sunset to spill over the room, making Gojo question his decision for a second. Taking a seat next to Megumi, he stared at your picture again - if the darkest night had eyes, they were yours. The monster must die - the conviction grew quieter by the second, and it wasn't destined to live a day.

[August 2, 2023, 01:43 am; hunters' hq]

Trying to catch and keep time, Gojo sat on the edge of a cliff, the very place where you had become almost friends the first time. The only thing that had changed was the light in the windows hidden among the rocks - it was gone. The bay was still as unruly, loud, its waves still crashing desperately against the rocks in the light of the distant stars and the worlds they hid. "Look, you just don't throw accusations around, okay?" the sorcerer turned to the sky, feeling foolish in trying to talk to his friend who wasn't here. There wasn't even a grave for him to visit. "Yeah, I dumped you for a girl. So what?" he snorted, pouting his lips and lowering his head.  

Gojo exhaled, playing with his intertwined fingers - he wasn't looking for advice, guidance, or scolding. "You know, you're the one who wanted to change the world according to your own vision, and the God complex is attributed to me for some reason," he mumbled frustratedly. "But I can't help but think that if I'd talked to you, if I'd paid attention to what's happening to you, all of this could've been avoided," he added in a quieter, mailed whisper. "I didn't... I saw something was wrong with you, but I didn't know you needed help. Because...," the sorcerer stammered, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "Well, you and I were the strongest, weren't we? I thought you could handle it on your own. So did I. I got so caught up in that training, and when I woke up, it was too late. "

In the strokes of bloody and bitter experience on the canvas of time, Gojo saw the truth years later - he didn't need the alliance of the two strongest, he just needed a person who would accept him without power. "I'll never know if anything would have changed if I had been there for you then," the sorcerer admitted frankly, lifting the gaze of his blue eyes back to the stars. "But now I'm sure I'll never give up. I will never leave her, no matter what she does. Forgive me for being so indecisive in the past," he said, rising to his feet. Gojo paused for a moment, still searching for a familiar name between the flickering, distant lights. "And thank you for being my best friend once." 

Turning around, Gojo headed for the house - on the basement floor he was greeted by familiar boxes covered in a layer of dust and the smell of acetone that never left. As he approached the workroom, he took hold of the doorknob and stopped, hesitating. From the other side he could hear a quiet, barely discernible fuss - entering the workroom, Gojo saw you digging into your laptop, humming something to yourself. The kettle was boiling on the nightstand, and two cups were next to you. He watched mesmerized as you jumped up and took the kettle and poured the boiling water into mugs. Gojo leaned against the closed door and slid slowly to the floor, watching as you put six spoonfuls of sugar into one of the mugs - he could hear the clinking of the spoon as you stirred the tea.

"Meg?" he asked deafly with fading hope.

"Sorry," the mechanical voice replied. "Nothing yet."

Gojo wish he could stand like that longer, holding onto the doorknob and hesitating to enter - he'd made up everything down to the cooling mug of tea on the table.  

The workroom was empty.        

next ⊳

[llycaons]

another thing I liked was how vicious and hateful and unforgivable xy was depicted because he literally did manipulate a good man into murdering hundreds of people and then tortured and murdered a little girl, whose pov we are reading from, like I find him entertaining as a villain but he's absolutely vile and sooo many fics want to be like '🥺 he just needed love' well he actually did get unconditional love and support and companionship FROM XXC and he used it to manipulate and mass murder so idk it was really awful what he went through but I think in any situation he would have been a fucked up sadist out for his own amusement and you know what im just going to link it: x. it's good but the wx is very novel-faithful so 😔

[triglycercule]

murder time trio come back from killing some guy (me) and dust just pulls out a rainbow cleaning duster and starts dusting himself off. horror questions him. he says it's self care

[13eyond13]

.

[je-suis-problematique]

We're in a mood for moodboards so have our PREVIOUS fronting team that was comprised of Caliban, Judeau, Grael (he had a very strong presence in the system back in the day), Jasper (an alter from Chris' subsystem), Black Reaper (an alter from Kaneki's subsystem), Kovacs (me), May, Krauser (another alter from Chris' subsystem.... They used to switch more often back then), and Griffith (OG Griffith, not one of his many AUs). All of these alters took a billion steps back after the whole substance abuse crisis that was mixed into the drama from the breakup with our partner system IRL, nowadays it's mostly the Baldur's Gate folks running the show and everyone who used to be active fronters BEFORE the drug crisis happened kind of just hid themselves away, claiming that they aren't in possession of enough mental energy to help out with what's currently been happening on Main. I can't say I blame them honestly. Our life is incredibly stressful and we ARE falling apart at the seams so the exhausted veterans made way for the still-somewhat-put-together newbies to handle our daily life in their stead. I would like to say that we've been in recovery this whole time but some wounds take a LOT of time to heal which makes me happy that we found a new therapist today and that she agreed to help us sort through the psychological and emotional salad we've been carrying with us this whole time without knowing how to even BEGIN to unravel it.

– Kovacs

[sqtorux]

love makes a man tender— the same could be said for a monster.

sukuna sits patiently with his daughter on his lap while she applies various colours on his face he finds so hideous.

her small little hands pat the products into his skin, a bit too aggressively for his liking but he lets her regardless, not without a few grunts and huffs of annoyance though.

"pick another one" sukuna says in an irritated tone when she brought a bright pink blush close to his face.

the child only pouts "but 'ts pretty!!" now if you must know, sukuna dislikes pink; hates it even. it looks lively and soft — the exact opposite of who he was. (also maybe because a certain someone aka his least favourite niece has the exact same hair colour but the girl doesn't need to know that).

despite that, sukuna finds himself giving into that stupid pout he somehow catches himself adoring. all four of his eyes roll "get on with it then."

the giggles that follow after almost made him want to paint all of himself pink. almost.

however, what drove him to the edge was when he was asked to close his eyes so she could apply yet another colour onto them.

being the kid she is, she does it a bit sloppy— accidentally poking his eyes once or twice. "brat that hurts" sukuna growls but makes no move to stop her.

he thinks the foolish eye pokes were worth it when a light peck lands on each of his eyes "sorry daddy!" the child chuckles and sukuna opens his eyes.

one of his four hands make their way to her lips stained with a faint black— which he guesses were from his eyes, and wipes them away gently. "you look stupid."

the girl ignores his half assed words and brings yet another bright shade and begins applying it onto his lips. he sits obediently.

"there! you're done. you're so pretty daddy!!" the child squeals in excitement and brings a mirror to her father's face.

sukuna stares into the mirror and frowns "how horrifying."

"do you not like it?"

sukuna scoffs and places the mirror down "i have always wanted to look abominable."

"yes you look adorable!" the girl giggles while clapping her tiny hands together happily. sukuna doesn't correct her.

later when she sleeps and you're talking the makeup off for him, sukuna complaints.

"this is the result of the small brat's assault."

you only laugh in response and his eyes stare up to you. "i am being very serious."

"then why didn't you stop her?"

sukuna doesn't have an answer to that because that would mean he had to admit his affection for yet another person after you.

"that's right, you'd do anything for her won't you?" your chuckle makes all four of his eyes roll. he seems to do that a lot lately.

"the small brat and the big brat love tormenting me."

you raise a brow at this, "and do you have a problem with that?"

sukuna huffs but the soft expression replacing his usually grim one betrays the act of annoyance he puts up.

"i wouldn't have it any other way."

[monstersflashlight]

Here me out...scientists looking at fem!human lab rat getting fucked by a bunch of different monsters to study the different reactions of both the Monsters and the human 👀

We have serious mental issues guys...

Hi anon! We don't have mental issues, just great imagination.

When you applied for a job at a lab facility, you weren't expecting to be a monster's fleshlight. The job application specified absolutely nothing about it apart from saying you needed to be okay working with other species. And well, you were okay with that.

But the first day on the job, you found yourself being asked a bunch of weird questions, some of them very specific in its sexual nature. You didn't know what was happening, but you weren't too worried about it, what could happen? Maybe you should have asked.

When they finally explained to you that you'd be fucked by a bunch of different monsters and then you'd record a short video explaining how it felt and if you'd do it again, it was too late to back down. Not that you wanted to. You'd always been a bit of a freak, and seeing some other monsters at the facility only made you crave a different kind of experimentation. So it was like a match made in heaven. Or so you thought.

At first it was all good, they introduced you to the experiment with some aliens with a ridged dick and nice long fingers that made you come so many times you had to be helped back to your room after, your knees trembling and your pussy sore. The aliens were the same species as the scientists leading the research, and you wondered if he would join. He didn't the first day. They discovered you could be fucked multiple times by multiple dicks and still come.

The second day an orc and a minotaur appeared. Their dicks were pretty similar, and you had a great time riding both of them until you were filled to the brim over and over. That day they discovered that you could experiment what they called "cum inflation", your stomach distended because of the amount of cum shoot inside of you. You had to sit down and let the researcher finger everything out of you. He looked detached to it, but you came against his fingers once again.

The tentacle monster on the third day was fun. His big reproductive dick pushed into your hole as little tentacles played with your body. It was a weird sensation, but a good one. That day they discovered you could be stimulated at multiple points and that would make you come harder.

It continued like that for a few days, some monsters weird, some okay, but overall, it was such a great experience that the next day you were already dripping and hot when the werewolf entered. He stretched you with his claws and long tongue until you were crying out, just to push his fat dick inside of you until you were falling apart around him. Just to push his huge knot inside your dripping hole. You squirted all around him, making him laugh and a worried scientist come check on you.

The scientist could could have stopped everything that was happening, could have told the werewolf it was over... but instead he pinched your nipples as he pushed his alien dick in your mouth until you were gagging around him and his hips were fucking your face. It shouldn't have been as hot as it was. You came again, and again... And by the end of that session you were showered in alien and werewolf cum. You loved it.

They didn't discover anything that day, but you discovered your alien researcher had a bit of a thing for you, and he's like to explore it further.

Reminder that you can commission me (info here) or suscribe to my Patreon (info here). And that my second account is @whiskis

[suiana]

imagine yandere beauty and the beast but you're the beast and the yandere is the beauty.

you're just trying to be isolated from the rest of the world, having first hand experienced how humans can be to species that aren't human. it hurts whenever they scream at your appearance, run away in fear as they pray for your death. it really did. especially when you were once human too.

so when a random pretty boy appeared on the doorstep of your manor, you instantly tried to chase him away. you didn't want to hear him screaming, nor did you want him to try killing you simply because you had the form of a beast. you had one too many experiences already.

what you didn't expect was for him to fall at your feet, begging for your hand in marriage. you were appalled, staring down at his smaller figure as he whines and begs for you to accept him as your husband.

there was no way, you thought.

how could he ever fall for someone like you? you were a monster who dwelled in your manor all alone for so many years!

you never expected him to cling to you incessantly. to do everything in his power to stay by your side, even if it meant being overwhelming with his declarations of love. he wanted you, all of you, even if you looked different from him. he didn't care, he really could care less.

and you couldn't do anything to stop him.

[lowkeyremi]

JJK MEN AS DADS

How they are with their kiddos/babies ! ft. gojo, geto, choso, toji, and nanami

content: no curse!au fluff, established relationship (marriage), children, families.

Gojo Satoru

"Look at my little boy, he looks just like me, what a heart stopper you'll be when you get older!" He praises his two year old, Kenji Gojo.

"'Toru stop trying to manifest our son into a hoe." Satoru turns to you with a loud gasp, eyes wide, and it causes your little boy to giggle.

"How could you say such words, in front of him? Don't listen to Mommy. Daddy was never a player. Never ever!" Kenji has no clue what's happening he just laughs at his father's dramatics.

"Oh brother, I hope he doesn't turn into a drama queen like you. And yes you were a player before I got with you. Remember when you kissed my friend then like ten minutes later tried to kiss me?" Satoru was a menace in college. Every time you bring up that specific college memory he always says-

"Ugh, blame Suguru! He was the one who made me take shots when I didn't like to drink." There it is. That was excuse for two-timing you and your best friend back then.

"Save it for someone who believes you. Kenji, don't be like Daddy when you grow up, okay?" Your husband knows you're joking but he can't help but whine and feel like you're being against him.

"Otay Mommy! Daddy is hoeeee. Hoe hoe hoe. Merry Christmas!" Your poor little boy thinks he's saying the noise Santa makes instead of a derogatory term and it's hilarious.

Of course you encourage him, "Daddy's a what?"

"Hoe!" Kenji screams out with a smile on his face. Satoru frowns loosing his playfulness.

"I-i guess my family just hates me... no one loves me." He sighs loudly to sell it to you guys but you don't buy it. He sits in the corner pretending to cry. "Boo hoo..." Kenji waddles his way over to his father patting his head.

"No cry Daddy, you not a hoe. You Daddy." Satoru fakes a loud gasp when he hears his son comfort him, thinking Satoru is actually crying.

"Really?!" He asks the little boy standing next to him.

"Yeah, Daddy is cool!!" Satoru chuckles, picks up is little boy and tosses him into the air. The small white haired child screams in delight as his father catches him, and you can't deny that all the trouble you and Satoru had in your relationship was worth seeing this.

Geto Suguru

"And then, the monster ate the twin girls who didn't go to sleep at their bed time-"

"Ooooookay. I think that's enough bed time stories from Papa." You say ushering your girls to bed, Hana looks scared out of her mind but Kana's eyes are sparkling with curiosity.

"Awww, Mommy, it was just getting good!" Kana whines, you know she wants to hear whatever else Suguru makes up on spot but he scared Hana who looks like she wants to cry.

"I know sweetie, but I don't think Hana really liked that story." The girls are six and full of energy at any given time.

"Come on baby, let me tell Kana the rest." Suguru matches his daughter's tone, knowing you'll give in.

"Alright, fine, but you need to apologize to Hana, look at her." Your husband looks at his younger twin daughter and he does feel kind of bad for scaring her like that. Suguru likes telling scary stories and myths to his girls just like his father had done to him. He always thought they were super cool.

"Oh, Hana, sweet girl. Papa's sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that. How about I tell you and your sister a different story?" Hana looks a little doubtful as do you, but Suguru grants you a smile. He knows you trust him so you give him a stern look before kissing his forehead.

"Don't take too long, I need my cuddles." He smirks, kissing your hand, "Of course my dear."

The twins coo in unison at their parents romantic gestures, they think it's the coolest thing ever. "You girls have your stuffed animals?" He asks them and they nod together waiting for his story.

He tells the two about a princess who needed saving. Her long lost sister came to save her from a scary dragon and they lived happily together.

"That sounds like me and Hana!! I fought the scary dragon and Hana was the princess!!!" Kana says with excitement. Sometimes Suguru sees two little girls he used to foster in his own girls. He wonders how they're doing these days. They're probably grown up by now or at least in their late teens.

"I really wish Mommy had let me name you guys Nanako and Mimiko." He whispers with a soft smile. Kana looks at him in confusion rubbing her tired eyes, Hana's already asleep.

"Huh?" Kana asks.

"Nothing my dear, good night, little one." He tucks her into bed and gives her a tend kiss on the forehead.

"Night night, Papa." She says with a yawn and Suguru makes his way downstairs to join you.

Kamo Choso

Choso bites his lip looking down at his son, the boy looks a lot like you he thinks. Ryuji is his name, you let him name him. "I didn't mean to break it." He whines to his father. Choso has a soft spot for his boy. He reminds him a lot of his little brother Yuji.

"I know bud, but what will we tell Mom when she gets home?" Ryuji had accidentally broken your favorite ceramic mug. Choso was not sure what he signed up for when he got you pregnant but it sure wasn't this.

He and his son were always getting scolded by you. Every time Ryuji gets into some kind of trouble it also happens to be Choso's fault for not watching him closely as you always say. The truth is, Ryuji seems to get into trouble even with his father watching him closely.

"Um... we can tell her it was at the edge of the counter and i walked past it and it fell down. Then it will be her fault for leaving it by the edge." Choso smiles at his devious ten year old. He knows lying is bad but if you heard what really happened you'd scold both of them.

What actually happened as that Ryuji was playing in the kitchen, even though you've warned him against it many times and he knocked your mug down onto the ground.

"Good idea, kid. I don't want to hear Mom yelling again. I might get couch treatment again." Choso shivers at the idea of sleeping on the cramped couch rather than in his warm bed with you.

"You remind me a lot of your Uncle Yuji." Choso says ruffling his son's hair. "You and Mom keep saying that and I don't know if that's good or bad."

"It depends. Yuji can be both." Choso chuckles. His son gives him a crushing hug.

"I love you dad, you're doing great." And Choso didn't know how much he needed to hear those words but they were getting to him.

Fushiguro Toji

"Quit kicking your Ma, ya little brat." He threatens your swelling belly. He gives you a questioning look when you glare at him. Those emerald eyes challenge yours in a staring contest.

"What is with you and threatening our unborn children?" Your question is followed by a giggle.

"Gotta let the brats know who's in charge." He blows out a breath and puffs his chest, you find the whole ordeal ridiculous. The man is a girl dad for crying out loud. Even his oldest, your step-son thinks his father is a clown. And before Tsumiki died there were three daughters in his life.

He thinks your third one is bound to be a boy, but you're secretly hoping for a girl just to further sink Toji's idea of having a little boy to boss around. Megumi comes around maybe twice a month to see his little half-sisters, which means Toji is surrounded by girls all the time.

You like to joke around with him and say, "What do you know? Girls seem to follow you wherever you go." He always grumbles about it being stupid and unfair.

"As I was saying-"

"DAD!!!!! MY HAIR OH NOOOOOOO." Toji's up off the couch in seconds answering at his daughter's beck and call.

He walks into her room to see her braid was messed up. "What happened, Doll?" He asks her, undoing the braid so he can redo it.

"Yui undid my braid!! She took my hair tie and ran to her room!!!" She squeals, in horror at her little sister's thieving.

"Oh did she now? I'll go have a talk with her once I braid this back up." He's gentle with his tender-headed daughter. He quickly braids her hair back up, the pattern memorized. 100% self indulgent bc im tender headed.

"I have this green hair tie, is that okay, sweet girl?" She sighs quietly. "Where are the blue ones?" Toji clicks his tongue. "I can go get one real quick if you hold the end of this braid." He tells her and she's quick to do it. Her favorite color is blue after all.

She cheers when her father returns with a blue hair tie. He ties it up quickly, "Okay let me go talk to Yui." Nami nods brushing out her baby doll's hair.

Toji makes an appearance in front of his four year old's door, she's making her dolls scream at each other. "What was da reason?!!!!" She screams pretending to be one of the dolls, "I had a reason." She makes the other say.

Toji rolls his eyes, his daughter has been watching too much TV with you. "Excuse me miss Cardi B, why did you steal your sister's hair tie?" His hands are on his hips and his eyes are squinted to add to his authority.

"Whattttt, Dad, you know dat?" She asks as if her dad lives under a rock.

"Tch I'm not old, I know what memes are. Now answer the question." She rolls her eyes. You tell Toji she gets her attitude from him.

"If you haf to know I needed it, so I could give Sprinkles a ponytail." Sprinkles is the dog Toji said he was NOT going to get for his girls but caved in and got anyway.

"Ya coulda asked me or your Ma for one rather than stealing it right from your sister's hair." She shakes her head in disagreement. Toji wonders what's going on in her head right now.

"Dad you don't get it! It had to be that one!"

"Why that specific hair tie?" She goes silent turning away from her father and mumbling something Toji can barely hear.

"Speak up, princess." She scoffs and sighs and folds her arms. Wow the sass is unreal.

"Sprinkle thinks Nami is super cool so she wants what Nami has." Toji isn't stupid he knows his daughter is using the dog as a place holder for how she admires her older sister. Yui doesn't like to admit it though.

"Are you sure it's Sprinkle who thinks Nami is super cool?" He gives her the chance to be open with him and she sighs taking the bait.

"I guess. I think Nami is super cool." She murmurs and Toji smirks.

"It's alright to think your sis is cool, Dad didn't get to grow up with any cool siblings. Just annoying cousins."

"Mai and Maki are cooler than you, Dad, not annoying!" The man in question raises his brow his smirk never leaving, "Okay since I'm not cool. I guess I won't take you out for treats anymore when Ma says no."

Little Yui gasps, bursting upward like a rocket and running toward her dad. She hugs his leg, her little head looking up at him, "I was kidding Dad. You're super cool. Please don't stop taking me for treats!!"

Toji smiles, picks up his little girl and tickles her. She screams out for him to stop, "Huh? I can't hear what you're saying."

"Nami help!!!!"

In seconds Nami's attacking her father in a playful manner, "Let go of my sister!!"

"Okay then." Toji holds his daughter upside down by her feet, as she screams some more. "MA!!! HELPPP!!!!"

"Toji put her down." You say in a half-hearted manner.

"She is down. Upside down."

Nanami Kento

"See, you're getting the hang of it, Hiro." Kento softly encourages his son who's struggling with his math homework. You had tried to help him but he screamed that what you were saying didn't make sense. So of course you yelled back, letting your emotions get the better of you.

Kento had stepped in to keep you two from ripping each other's heads off. Plus all that screaming had woken up the baby. You could hear her crying.

That was about an hour ago. You quietly walked into the dining room with your seven month old baby girl cuddled up to your chest as you held her tight.

The sight of your husband helping your son warmed your heart, but you also felt guilt hot in your stomach for yelling at him, he's only twelve.

"Hey, Hiro. Can I talk to you, hon?" You ask softly. Both your son and Kento turn their heads upon hearing your voice. He nods at you and you inhale deeply, "I'm sorry for yelling at you, bud, I didn't mean it."

His eyes soften as do Kento's.

"I'm sorry too, Mom. I started it. You were just trying to help me." Kento's smile encourages you to walk closer to the table which you do.

"We should have had Dad come help in the first place, huh? I'm not good at explaining." Hiro shares a laugh with you, and Kento cups your cheek.

"Explanations might not be your strong suit but you're still a good mother, baby." Hiro gags at his father calling you "baby" he hate when you two get sappy.

You move your head a little so you can kiss his palm. As expected Hiro covers his eyes and making more throwing up noises.

"Oh hush, one day you'll find someone for you, and you'll be just like me and your mother." Kento says rolling his eyes and you giggle. Even though you guys have your differences you guys always forgive each other at the end of the day.

Your little girl coos quietly and Kento holds out his arms gesturing for his little girl.

"She's just had dinner, so she might fall asleep on you." Your warning doesn't bother him at all, if anything, you'll probably have more pictures to add to your baby gallery on your phone if she falls asleep in his arms.

She's already a dad's girl and she's only seven months old. You thought maybe Hiro would be a mama's boy but he's definitely his daddy's son.

You don't mind though, well, sometimes you're a little jealous that you have to share your man with your kids. Kento's a very lovable man though, so you can't blame them.