#and no one knows everything right off the bat

[oddlylovingaddiction]

; Coming Full Circle

Part 1: Here , Part 2: Here , Part 3: You’re here!

CW: Reader is pregnant BUT is gender neutral only being referred to as you, if you don't have the ability to get pregnant you do now (in this series). Neglected reader x (platonic.) bat family. Reader is probably around in your 20s (21 - 25) and is the 5th(??) oldest.

TW: Past abuse in the form of emotional neglect/abuse, pregnancy, panic attacks and angst

After passing out from the emotions of the shopping trip you woke up to your warm bed. It seems someone (other than Damian, he was too small to carry an adult.) had placed you on your bed, removed your shoes and removed anything that would snag or choke you in your slumber as well, it seems they also left your shopping bags at the foot of your bed. You were starting to wonder if that shopping tripped really ending up helping you because now it’s 12:32 at night and you’re texting your husband you were supposedly not talking to and you felt unbelievably drained from all that crying you did. Usually you’d cry in his arms while he comforts you so perhaps that’s why your reaching out to him.

You:

I’m fine. And I’m safe just need some space

Him:

I want to give that to you but I’m just nervous not knowing where you are.

You can feel a headache coming on, perhaps from the crying, the fact you were still in your day clothes and from the fact he was so insistent on your location, fair enough, you disappeared with almost nothing on you and also, in his eyes, randomly one day with no signs that you would be away from him for so long. You choose to turn off your phone and just lay there. Honestly it’s all too much. These hectic phew days seeing your family again has been overwhelming. You can’t lie and say you aren’t enjoying the attention but at the same time you feel this gnawing feeling in your chest. The lingering in the back of your mind being ‘Is this all real? Was the years of neglect real or did I imagine it all? Has everyone always cared I didn’t notice?’ and arguably the most significant reason to you ‘what was the reason for it all?’

You can feel your mind start spiralling and you begin to feel sick. You hate it all. Hate being aware of everything all at once. Hate the almost never ending unanswered questions.

You quickly get up shaking your head gently refusing to let it completely overwhelm you, grabbing some PJs you change into as you do. They smell like your him, you both use the same detergent so it always reminds you of each other. You then slide on your slippers as you walk to the kitchen to get a late night snack. You’ve been have some pregnancy cravings but nothing super weird surprisingly, like pickles and peanut butter.

In the kitchen you search for some of your favourite snacks to eat lately, unfortunately there’s none left so you settle for some fruit you like, not as tasty like the ones you have at home but decent enough. The moonlight comes through the kitchen window making you think once again as you bite into the succulent fruit while you lean against the marble kitchen counters. The night is quiet, perfect for unwelcomed overthinking.

‘I wonder what would’ve happened if I stayed here?’

‘What would’ve happened if I never had gotten pregnant?’

The worst thought of all though was; ‘is this sudden affection from everyone in this manor only because of the baby?’

You love your baby you do but you’d hate for all this affection to be just for the child. You are your family’s child first and all you want is for them to love you as you and not for the child you carry.

You feel a slight buzz in your pyjama pocket. You’ll have to deal with your true family before your second, and right now part of your true family is worried about you.

Him:

Please talk to me, my love.

You pause sighing, perhaps if you were raised in a healthy family you could’ve grown up to handle conflict better. Maybe you would still be there with him in your shared home. No point in lamenting about it though.

You:

I’m here sorry I needed to take a break, I was getting overwhelmed.

Him:

Thats okay I’m sorry… I’m just scared

Your husband has always been kind and patient with you even when you found even yourself difficult. Of course he makes mistakes, but he never hurts you and he would never emotionally abandon you like this cursed family did and yet here you were abandoning him, thinking about that makes you wince slightly.

You:

That’s fair… I’m sorry.

Ever since our last argument I’ve been struggling a bit. I know it seems minor but the fact we disagreed on something so small but important around our child is scary. Because what happens next?

All your thoughts spill out as you type, like an overflowing fountain, speaking of fountains you can feel your eyes fill up with tears as you type.

Will we continue to argue about every small thing, like on how to parent our child? Will you get tired if we just continuously disagree and fight? What happens when the baby comes, if I’m like this now will I really be a good parent? Can I even love when I was raised without it?

Your sweet husband knows everything about your childhood and you know everything about his. He never once judged or blamed you for the trauma you endured, he was always on your side.

Him:

I know you’re scared, my love. but one disagreement doesn’t mean our marriage will fall apart, raising a life can be scary but that’s why we are doing it as a team and not as individuals.

I’ll never get tired of you, I intend to stay true to our marriage vows and love you in sickness and in health. I’ll never be tired of you and I won’t be tired of the baby because I love you both. Also you will be a good parent, I know it. Just because you may have been raised without love and care doesn’t mean you can’t love and care anymore, you’re married to me and you love me just fine.

Don’t doubt yourself so much. Thinking so big about everything all at once is bound to get you overwhelmed.

You can almost hear his naggy voice lecturing you towards the end making you giggle softly.

You:

Youer right I’m sorry. I love you so much ♡

God I feel like a fool right now.

Him:

My fool ♡

Now go to sleep I can tell you’re about to pass out because you spelt you’re wrong

Also I bet the reason you stayed away from me for so long is you were too embarrassed

Shit! He caught you. You should’ve known better but he can practically see through you sometimes so you don’t know why you’re surprised. You laugh softly and hang your head slightly at the fact you can still feel the connection when you’re both apart. It’s a testament that you both are truly blessed with one another.

You:

Will do, love you again. Also your bet was right, I’ll text you my location tomorrow so you can pick me up.

Him:

Looking forward to it ♡

You yawn after he sends his last text for tonight, he was right all anxiety has left you with a giant puddle of sleepiness. You eat the last slice of your fruit, wash your hands in the kitchen sink, then finally you walk back to bed.

You’ve never walked around so late it’s almost eerie how quiet it all is, when you were younger you were afraid monsters would get you as sometimes you heard weird noises when you did try to venture outside your room.

Perhaps you should’ve looked around at night more because then you wouldn’t be lost, wandering around a large manor in a sleepy haze, desperate to get back to bed. “Office…?” You mumble looking into rooms for the staircase so you could get to your room to no avail.

Somehow you end up in Bruce’s study, that he once expressed you weren’t supposed to go into at any point, normally you’d listen, it was just an office after all but the sleep made you bold as you step in.

The room in your sleepy vision was normal.

Minus the bookcase behind the desk which was moved to the side to reveal a staircase going down. The shock of the weird bookcase and stairs going down sobered you up from your sleepy haze.

“Wait.. we had a basement?”

You crept down the dark stairwell, the only way you knew where you were going is because of the small lights that lined the walls as you descended. The stairs and the walls weren’t old and rickety for a secret passage, they were what looked to be sold black iron all around minus the matching black carpet going down the middle of the stairs.

“This isn’t weird at all…” you mumble sarcastically to yourself.

You can’t decide what would be worse a creepy old staircase that looks like it lead to a dungeon or a staircase that looks like it would lead you to something like a room for experiments. Either way it felt like you were about to witness something you shouldn’t have seen.

If only you knew how right you were.

Finally you reached the end of the stairs, if you were even still a tiny bit sleepy that terribly long walk down got rid of it. You walk a wide corridor, what looks to be different entrances to rooms line the walls. You want to open one and check but your body pushes you to continually walk forward.

Once you reach the end you see two see-through automatic doors, when you step past one you panic as you’re sprayed down with what you can only assume are chemicals. One you step through the other, you’re greeted with a very large cave.

A cave full of shit you’d never find in a cave, like cars and, sitting in the middle of the very big cave, what looks to be a giant computer.

Alarm bells ring in your head, this definitely wasn’t for you to see. But those alarm bells and everything else in your head quickly dies when you see Bruce, Dick and Alfred walking towards you talking amongst themselves.

You wouldn’t feel this sudden horrifying pit in your stomach if that was it.

No. If that was it you’d be fine. But instead Dick and Bruce were in costumes.

Not just any costumes but Batman and Nightwing costumes.

‘No.’

‘There’s just no way.’

‘This is a joke.’

But you knew it wasn’t when Alfred looked ahead and met your eyes, his face paling at the realization of you standing there and that’s all you needed to turn and run.

You run back to the see-through doors, down the black hallway and up the black stairs. You are pretty sure you can hear yelling but you can’t hear it over the sound of your own breathing as you hyperventilate.

Everything you knew about your family has come crashing down. What was real? Who else knew? No, they all must’ve known. It makes sense that everyone in this family knew but you. Which other superhero was secretly your family member?

Your vision blurs from tears. They were superheros. Saving EVERYONE. EVERYDAY. But they could forget your birthdays, they could forget your existence. Watching your brothers and sisters celebrate their birthdays all together as a happy family and Bruce, your DAD, YOUR BIOLOGICAL DAD couldn’t find time to get you a different gift each year.

Everywhere feels unsafe, all you could do was run to the living room before you could feel the air in your throat get stuck from how quick you were breathing. The tears blurring your vision.

You quickly pull out your phone and quickly open your messages, your hand shaking as you click on your husband’s contact before sending him your location along with a single line saying ‘help’. You need to leave here fast no where feels safe. Everything feels fake.

As this is all happening you hear people call your name, through your tears you could make out Bruce and Dick.

“Hey hey hey let’s just calm down… it’s not a big deal! And what you saw wasn’t what it looked like.” Dick starts his own voice sounding unsure.

“N-not a- A BIG DEAL?” You manage to choke out and scream.

“Don’t be this way.” Bruce coldly glares at your reaction.

“DON’T BE THIS WAY?” You yell again, you’re pretty sure the entire manor is awake now from your cries. “You… you don’t get to tell me that.” You hiss through tears.

“Tell me, Bruce Thomas Wayne. Who else knows.” You ask slowly and carefully, voice full of spit.

There’s a silence before Bruce speaks up, “the… entire family knows.”

You go to laugh but before you can he adds on, “Because they’re all vigilantes too, we never told you because we wanted you to live a normal life...”

His voice fades away as the world around you shatters, a seemingly innocent illusion of a neglectful family has cracked and revealed a family who purposefully isolated you from themselves because they decided to choose for you that you’ll live a life full of wondering what you did so wrong to deserve this.

Your own father decided to tell the kids that aren’t even related to him to become heroes with him but here you were his biological child and yet he decided you weren’t worth it all.

You gently crumpled onto the floor.

Right before your husband decides to make a flashy entrance by shattering the living room window.

[berrryparfait]

‎honey sugar you ! ♡‧₊˚

‪‪♥︎‬ featuring: head chef! sylus x pâtissier! fem!reader

— ༉‧₊ᐟ premise: a record of the highs and lows of your time as a fresh-faced pâtissier under the renowned chef sylus—two unforgettable years marked by burnt sugar, stolen glances, and the kind of lessons that shape both your craft and your heart.

❝ i can name three things that are sweet: honey, sugar, and you! ❞

— ༉‧₊ᐟ tags/cws: restaurant au, fluff and mild angst, sylus is kind of a prick at first, kitchen is a battlefield, enemies-to-lovers, airport trope

— ༉‧₊ᐟ word count: 1.4k

— ♫₊ᐟ soundtrack: 好きな人がいること – jy

✧ a/n: inspired by my all-time favorite j-drama, a girl and three sweethearts (suki na hito ga iru koto), which ignited my love for bossy, sulky, tsundere men <3

HEAD CHEF! SYLUS did not welcome you warmly. He scowled at your “incompetence” despite not having tried your signature dessert—a lemon meringue tart with a cinnamon-powdered twist—and deemed you unworthy of his mentorship right off the bat. He’s the most powerful person in the kitchen and is set on making sure everyone remembers it, rarely pausing to say “please” and “thank you” and glaring daggers at anyone who makes so much as a minor mistake. It’s stressful, working under a man like him—as if a bomb defusal is in progress and one wrong snip could be life-threatening.

HEAD CHEF! SYLUS is a bossy, domineering man. His arrogance truly knows no bounds. All the best ingredients, all the best plate arrangements—everything is “his territory”. He’s got the most experience, after all. Why question him? Besides, he’s physically intimidating, too, towering over you at 6’ 2” and watching your every move with those piercing, ruby eyes. He makes you sweat, that’s for sure. “Coffee bavarois,” he stated plainly when asked about this week’s dessert, no room for debate. You tried to tell him it clashes with the main dish, but he refused to give you the time of day. “You’re new here,” he warned, a sinister edge to his deep voice. “So you do as I say.”

HEAD CHEF! SYLUS is always the last person to leave the restaurant. He stays behind to experiment with new flavors and figure out creative ways to improve the menu, sketching and making notes like his life depends on it. One night, just as you’re about to call it a day, you catch him standing by the counter, a quizzical expression on his face. You hide around the corner and watch him in silence as he frowns at the serving of coffee bavarois before him, doubt—for the very first time since you’ve known him—passing like a shadow over his sharp features. He pulls out a slice of your lemon meringue tart from the fridge (your coworkers ask you to bake one every week), and, gingerly, takes a small bite. His face lights up in sweet surprise, but he quickly schools his expression, as if wary of watchful eyes. “God damn it…” he curses under his breath before scribbling something in his book.

HEAD CHEF! SYLUS isn’t used to admitting he was in the wrong. He struggles to hold your gaze as he “suggests” a change in the dessert menu, his perfervid desire for culinary perfection winning out over his pride. You, on the other hand, are trying your hardest to suppress a smug grin of utter satisfaction, the glorious tides of victory flooding your veins. “Yes, chef,” you reply, beaming. Your coworkers watch on nervously as he squints at your tone, the spark of a challenge passing unspoken between the two of you. Just when you think he’s about to lash out, he simply says, brusque as always, “Preheat the oven. Doors are almost open.”

HEAD CHEF! SYLUS has finally begun to acknowledge your level of skill, begrudgingly taking your lead at times and heeding your advice. He rarely questions your decisions anymore; at least when it comes to the dessert menu. Once in a while, though exceedingly rare, you even catch the occasional muttered compliment falling from his lips, and it makes you happier than it should. Part of you wonders if he’s begun to seek your approval just as much as you seek his. Petty competition aside, work has felt a lot lighter, lately. For what might be the first time in an eternity, working in the kitchen feels like working as a team. “That was…not a bad idea,” he says lowly, masking his words with nonchalance. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you— ” you tease, incredibly pleased with yourself.

HEAD CHEF! SYLUS gets surprisingly twitchy when met with skin-to-skin contact. He’d been watching you prepare a tray of macarons the other day when you asked if he wanted to try piping the vanilla buttercream filling. Unexpectedly, he turned out to be a novice—fumbling with the bag and making a small mess on the baking tray. You sighed at his meagre attempts and reached out to guide him, your soft palm gentle yet firm on his knuckles as you filled the remaining macarons together. It worked well at first—both of you focused and in sync—but his grip eventually faltered. After a pause, he quietly shook your hand loose and returned to his own preparations, seemingly a little…flustered?

HEAD CHEF! SYLUS celebrates in silence. You’ve just won your first ever major haute cuisine competition as a chef-pâtissier duo, and rather than celebrating with the rest of the restaurant staff, he grabs a beer from the fridge and retreats to the balcony. You join him after a while, believing he deserves to feel proud too. The cool night air hits your face as you walk up to him—he’s hunched over the railing with a pensive, far-off look on his face. “Not having fun?” he asks sardonically. You rally the question back to him, to which he simply says he prefers celebrating in private. Yet…he doesn’t reject your company. In fact, he seems to find a sort of delicate solace in it. He opens up to you for the first time that night, telling you about the pressure he’s dealt with his entire life to live up to his legendary father's legacy. You tell him he’s enough and place your hand on his. Bright color warms his cheeks.

HEAD CHEF! SYLUS is patient with you; supportive of you. He’s still as broody and reserved as always, yet you find the other chefs smiling more. They laugh freely during work hours and, as a result, customers seem more satisfied, too. You’ve found a home here, and you’re happy. Imagine everyone’s surprise when you’re notified of a French celebrity chef’s interest in your dessert-making—his offer highly generous. He isn’t exactly more renowned than Sylus, but it would still be an excellent opportunity for you to progress in the culinary scene. It’s not something you can simply…pass up.

HEAD CHEF! SYLUS has been distant lately. His mood is easily soured, and he’s regained some of that signature bite when speaking to you. You know he’s just scared. Scared you’ll leave him, scared you’ll forget all about him when you move to Paris, your time together in the kitchen miles away. But he hasn’t discouraged you from going. “Award-winning pâtissiers would kill for an opportunity like this. Take it and go.” he says bluntly, and you’d be lying if you disagreed. So why does the thought of leaving this place behind hurt you so? And why is he acting like this if you’re already on borrowed time?

HEAD CHEF! SYLUS doesn’t bother seeing you off at the airport. You take in a shaky breath as you pull your luggage towards the immigration kiosks, devastated and confused. Did the past two years really mean nothing to him? Just as you step in line, heavy footsteps echo through the departure hall. You turn to see a very breathless, very desperate Sylus—still in his once-pristine chef’s uniform—staring right at you. He ran all the way here to stop you. To get something off his chest… “I’m not here to keep you from leaving,” he breathes, nothing but sincerity in those intense, crimson eyes. “That’d be selfish of me. I’m here to say goodbye. And…” Your heart squeezes as he cups the side of your face and leans in, planting a tender kiss on your lips. Hot tears threaten to spill down your cheeks as you tell him you love him, that you’ll never forget him, and that you’ll be back after chasing your dreams.

HEAD CHEF! SYLUS visits you every month, his warm embrace and playful kisses a welcome remedy for the cold, Parisian weather. You’ve barely been in France a year, and you already wish you could go back. Maybe next year, once you’ve finished perfecting this year’s dessert menu. You’ve always believed in expanding your horizons and chasing your dreams, but though they’re always evolving, always growing, in many ways…you already have. Because sometimes, a dream isn’t some far-off future—it’s the life you’re living. And for you, Sylus waits at the end of every chapter.

— ⋆˙⟡ ©berrryparfait

《 please do not copy / plagiarize / translate my works or publish them on any other platforms. 》

[kikyoupdates]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

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It’s pouring. 

You look up towards the sky, lips twisted into a grimace. Of course, you already knew it would be raining, but it really is strange to see everything play out, down to the smallest details. The weather was predetermined. Regardless of your influence, things like that can’t change. The creator of the story wanted to set the tone by making the day as gloomy as possible, and clearly, it’s working, because you feel more unnerved by the second.

“Our window confirmed the cursed womb’s existence roughly three hours ago,” Ijichi explains. “Once roughly 90 percent of people inside were evacuated, the detention center was closed off. Citizens close nearby have also been evacuated.” 

“What’s a window?” Itadori frowns. 

“It refers to someone with the ability to perceive curses. They will often notify us of a cursed spirit’s appearance. However, they aren’t sorcerers themselves.”

Man. Knowing what lies inside that facility, being a window is starting to sound really good right now. 

Unfortunately, it looks like you’re fated to be a sorcerer. Thanks a lot (not), isekai gods.

“Moving on,” Ijichi continues. “Detainee Block 2. Presently, five inmates are still trapped inside with the cursed womb. If this cursed womb is the type that can metamorphose, we predict it will become a special-grade cursed spirit.”

Both Fushiguro and Nobara wear stern expressions, because they clearly understand the gravity of the situation. Itadori, however, doesn’t know any better, and looks as laidback as ever.

Which is ironic, because once all of you are inside, he’s the one who’s going to be dealt the worst hand. By far. 

Nothing’s even happened yet, but the knowledge of what’s about to unfold makes you feel guilty beyond repair.

“Hey, so, I still don’t really understand what special-grade means,” Itadori says. Fushiguro and Nobara both grimace, of course, and Itadori leans closer to you with an inquisitive look on his face. “[Name], do you know? Well, I guess this is all pretty new to you too, so probably not.” 

Unfortunately, you do know what it means. 

You know it all too well. 

“I-I’m not sure,” you nervously brush off. “But they used the term special-grade to refer to Sukuna as well, right? So I’m assuming it probably describes a cursed spirit that’s… really strong.” 

Ijichi nods. “Yes, I suppose that’s the general idea. In any case, allow me to explain in a way that even idiots would be able to understand.” 

Alright, damn, Ijichi. You didn’t have to come for us like that. 

“First off, we have fourth-grade. If I could use an analogy, even a wooden bat would suffice to defeat them. For third-grade, if you were to have a handgun, you can rest easy. Second-grade. It’d be a close call, even with a shotgun. First-grade. Most likely, even a military tank wouldn’t be enough. Then we finally reach special-grade. How can I put this… let’s say you might stand a chance of winning if you were to repeatedly carpet bomb the curse. And even then there’s no guarantee.” 

Itadori’s jaw drops open. “Wait, so… isn’t that really bad?!” 

“Normally a sorcerer on par with the curse would take on the mission,” Fushiguro sighs, massaging his brow. “But since Gojo is still away on business, it can’t be helped.”

“Our line of work is always lacking in manpower,” Ijichi nods gravely. “You will often have to undertake missions beyond your capabilities. This particular case is truly abnormal, and hence, why it urgently requires our attention. You are not to fight, under any circumstances. When confronted by a special-grade curse, your only options are to run or die.”

Run or die, huh…? What a lovely pep talk. 

Naturally, none of this comes as a surprise to you, but now that you’re actually here, standing right outside the detention center, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t getting cold feet. 

Actually, even that’s an understatement.

You’re scared shitless right now.

“Please, listen to your fears,” Ijichi advises. “And above all else, remember that your mission here is strictly the verification and rescue of survivors.”

His words are a harsh reminder as to just how dangerous this new world you’ve found yourself in is. 

Well. Better than Attack on Titan, you suppose.

“E-Excuse me!” 

There’s a woman calling out to you. You don’t even have to turn around to know who it is, and the sound of her voice alone is enough to make your stomach twist into a knot.

“Tadashi… my son,” the woman mumbles, tears in her eyes. “Is my son okay…?”

You can see the way Itadori’s chin trembles, and you can tell that his heart aches having to watch this poor mother fear for her son’s life. He hates seeing others in pain. This must be eating him up inside.

And the same goes for you.

Because you know that Tadashi is already dead.

“Please step back,” Ijichi says, facing the woman with a solemn expression. “There’s a possibility that someone has spread poisonous gas throughout the center. We cannot share any more detail at this time.”

The woman just stands there at first, rigid and unmoving, but gradually, more tears fill her gaze, and she crumples to the ground, breaking down into a full-blown sob. She wails and wails, asking why in the world this has to happen, and begging for someone to bring her son back to her. 

The more he watches her, the more Itadori’s expression darkens. He isn't his carefree self anymore. There’s a fire blazing in his eyes. 

“[Name], Fushiguro, Kugisaki,” he says. “Let’s go. We’re… going to save everyone.” 

Nobara furrows her brows, but agrees with Itadori without so much as a second thought. Fushiguro is every bit as stoic as ever, but even he nods slightly. Every single one of them is fully intent on going in there to rescue the survivors. 

You’re the only one. The only one who knows that what lies inside is nothing but a gruesome massacre. There isn’t anyone left to save.

And what’s even more depressing is that you have to pretend like you think they actually have a chance. 

“Y-Yeah,” you nod weakly. “Let’s… do our best.” 

Igichi directs all of you towards the entrance you’re using, and he proceeds to bring down a Veil, which will conceal all of you from the outside world. This is necessary, for obvious reasons. The average person doesn’t even know that curses exist, after all.

“Whoa, it got dark all of a sudden,” Itadori marvels. “That’s so cool!” 

“God, you’re ignorant,” Nobara scowls, rolling her eyes.

Fushiguro sighs and brings forth his Divine Dogs. Just one of them for now. The fluffy white wolf, and he lets out an adorable little awoo as he manifests. Truly the goodest boy. 

“He’ll let us know if the curse gets close,” Fushiguro says. He motions to keep advancing, but nobody follows him right away, on account of the fact that all of you are busy petting the fluffy good boy.

“[Name], he seems to really like you,” Itadori grins. “Look! He’s so affectionate!” 

“I see doggo, I pet doggo,” you respond matter-of-factly. Sure enough, his tail seems to be wagging a good deal, and he repeatedly nuzzles his cute little snout up against your body. 

Can’t we just pretend this mission doesn’t exist and play with the fluffy sweetheart instead? 

“We need to get moving,” Fushiguro sighs, and he goes as far as to grab you by the wrist and start pulling you along. The white wolf follows closely by your side, occasionally peering up at you as if he’s hoping for more pets. He’s absurdly cute, especially when compared to the horrific situation you’re about to walk into.

You take a deep breath to compose yourself as the doors open. Fuck. Is it really too late to run away? Gojo isn’t here right now. Maybe you can flee the country somehow. Get far, far away from all the craziness that has yet to unfold. You’re starting to have second thoughts. You really don’t know if you can do this. You don’t know if you have what it takes to see that thing from close up.

In the canon series, nobody died. Itadori was able to survive thanks to Sukuna, and Fushiguro and Nobara were able to escape relatively unharmed. 

But where do you fit into this? It’s already clear that things can—and will—change. What if something goes terribly wrong? In that case…

You’re dead. 

“...[Name]?”

Itadori gently nudges you, expression rife with concern. You didn’t even realize that you were shaking so much. Even Fushiguro and Nobara must have noticed, based on the way they’re looking at you. 

“Sorry,” you apologize, swallowing hard. “I’m just a bit scared. I’m really sorry. I don’t mean to hold anyone back.” 

“It’s going to be okay,” Itadori reassures, and perhaps it sounds a bit silly, but just those few simple words—coupled with his warm smile—help ease your tremors. He grabs your hand for a moment and gives it a light squeeze. “We can do this. I’ll be right by your side the whole time. I promise.”

Nothing is a guarantee. You already know that. Still, Itadori’s words aren’t just for show. If he says something, he means it.

Thanks to him, you feel a little bit braver. 

“Wh-What’s going on in here?!”

Now that you’ve all stepped inside, everyone is rightfully taken aback. You were supposed to have walked into a two-story dorm for the inmates. What lies before you is an unimaginably large space. Much larger than what the building could ever fit inside. 

“It’s an Innate Domain made from cursed energy,” Fushiguro says, unable to keep his eyes from widening. “The dormitory expanded in size. Even so, it’s my first time seeing one this big. Wait! The door—!” 

It’s long gone. You knew from the moment you stepped inside that you wouldn’t be able to backtrack. Of course, there is a way of getting out of here. It’s just that the exit has changed. 

“Don’t panic,” Fushiguro says—even though Itadori and Nobara are doing exactly that. “This guy remembers the smell of the place we entered from.” 

He gestures to the white wolf, AKA super good boy, who is already wagging his tail and looking up at you expectantly. 

You grin and pet his head. “That’s amazing! You’re so strong and smart, aren’t you? If it was up to me, I’d be feeding you all the treats you could ever ask for.” 

“Take this more seriously, please,” Fushiguro mutters. “Even if we’ll be able to find our way out, it doesn’t make the situation any less serious.” 

“But it’s okay, since you’re so reliable,” Itadori grins, also petting the doggo. 

“Yeah,” you nod in agreement. “Fushiguro’s the kind of guy you can always depend on. Thank you for looking after us. And for letting me play with your cute wolf friend.”

Fushiguro doesn’t respond, and instead awkwardly averts his gaze. You can’t tell if he actually likes being complimented or not. He’s so stoic that it’s hard to read his expressions most of the time. 

“Let’s keep moving forward,” he finally says. You pet the wolf one last time, perhaps as a form of reassurance, because if memory serves correct… you won’t like what you’re about to find in the next room.

For more reasons than one. 

Itadori’s face instantly drops. Just as you anticipated, you’ve walked into the room with the dead inmates. Most of their bodies have been mutilated beyond recognition, save for one of them, whose torso and head are still intact. 

Horrified, Itadori reaches out towards the inmate and grabs onto the collar of his jumpsuit.

You don’t even have to get closer to know that the name tag reads Tadashi. 

The scene is gruesome, to say the least. Your stomach turns at the sight of such obvious brutality, and you quickly look away. But you aren’t just avoiding the image of blood and gore. You aren’t being overtly squeamish. 

Rather, you are frantically glancing all around the room, searching for the cursed spirit—because you know it’s here somewhere.

Where the hell is it hiding? How is it concealing its presence so well? Shit. You’re already shaking from head to toe, but the fact that you don’t even know exactly where it’ll appear from makes it a hundred times worse.

“I’m taking this body home,” you overhear Itadori mumble. “He’s that woman’s son. The one that asked us for help earlier. We weren’t able to save him… so the least we can do is retrieve his body for her. His face hasn’t been damaged much. I don’t think she’ll be able to come to terms with his death otherwise. And this way, he’ll be able to have a proper burial.”

Fushiguro pulls him back. “Leave the body. We still need to confirm if the other two people are alive or not.”

“Huh? Earlier, the entrance we used disappeared. If we walk away now, there’s no guarantee we’ll be able to make it back later.” 

“I didn’t say we were coming back later. I said leave it. He’s not even worth saving when he’s alive. Why the hell would I save his dead body?” 

“Not worth saving?” Itadori gapes. “What are you talking about?” 

Fushiguro grits his teeth. “This is a juvenile detention center, you know. Jujutsu sorcerers are granted access to all information about the scene beforehand. That’s how I know that Tadashi guy hit a little girl while he was driving without a license. And that was already his second offense. I know you’re fixated on saving lots of people and guiding them towards proper deaths, but what will you do when someone you saved ends up killing someone else in the future?” 

The argument that ensues is one you’ve already heard, of course. They both have wildly different opinions on the matter, and whether you tell them to stop arguing or not, they probably won’t listen to you. In any case, you don’t have the luxury of paying them much attention right now. All of the nerves in your body are on high alert. You keep looking and looking, but you can’t for the life of you see any sign of the cursed spirit.  

The white wolf nuzzles up against your leg, and you pause before leaning down to pet his head again. 

“Do you sense it?” you ask nervously. “Can you… tell if the curse is nearby?”

He starts sniffing the air and glancing around. There’s no way to know exactly when the curse is set to appear. You don’t have a precise time frame for any of this. All you have is your own memory to rely on, and even that isn’t perfect. But surely it should show up any moment now, right? You feel like it was sometime in the middle of their argument… 

Suddenly, the wolf’s head turns, and by the time you follow his line of sight, it’s already too late.

The cursed spirit is right in front of you.

You aren’t even able to scream in time. It attacks, and if not for the wolf jumping in front to protect you, you’re willing to bet that you would’ve been decapitated. All you can do is jump back and hasten to put as much distance between you and the curse as possible, and only then do Fushiguro and Itadori realize what’s happening.

“My Divine Dog,” Fushiguro mumbles in disbelief. “Kugisaki’s missing, too. We need to… run! Itadori, [Name], we’re leaving right now!” 

If only you could. That cursed spirit is absurdly strong, not to mention fast. It isn’t special-grade for nothing. Before Fushiguro can say anything else, it appears right next to him and Itadori, close enough that it may as well be breathing down their necks. 

Itadori is the first to react. He instinctively brandishes his weapon and aims for the curse’s head, but you already know it’s pointless.

The next second, Itadori’s severed hand is lying on the ground, in a puddle of blood.

“Sukuna!” Itadori cries out. “I doubt I can escape in this state, and if I die, you’ll die too, right? If you don’t want that to happen, you need to cooperate with me!”

He won’t. 

“I refuse,” Sukuna responds, just as you predicted. “Even if the parts of me inside you die, I still have eighteen other fragments of my soul. That said, I’m not in control of this body. If you want to switch, go ahead and switch. But as soon as you do, I’ll kill that brat before the cursed spirit can. That other girl, too. The spunky one that was taken away. As for the last…” 

He stops himself before commenting on you. You’re not sure what he intended to say, but it hardly matters at this point. Itadori needs to be the only one left alone to fight the curse. You, Fushiguro, and Nobara will escape. And then everything will unfold the way it’s supposed to. There won’t be any casualties today. Even Itadori won’t actually die. As long as you run away now, it’s all going to be okay. 

Except you can’t run. 

Once again, the curse appears right in front of you.

Why…?! It came to me all of a sudden—

You’re forcefully blown back, hard enough that you collide against one of the walls. Out of sheer instinct, you managed to raise your hands as the curse struck you. You keel forward, vision blurry, gasping for breath and spluttering up blood. Your arms… are still intact. Earlier, Itadori’s hand got sliced off in one fell swoop. Is it because you subconsciously concentrated enough cursed energy around your body in order to minimize the damage? You still have all of your limbs, but your arms are shaking uncontrollably, and the skin where the curse hit you is bloody and raw. You swear you can feel your bones creaking.

Holy shit, it hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts! It hurts so bad that you’re tempted to cry, but all of the air got knocked out of you just now, and the most you’re capable of is a bit of strained, painful wheezing.

The curse purposefully attacked you just then. It was right next to Itadori and Fushiguro until just a few moments ago. Why did it divert its attention elsewhere? Why do all of these curses seem to come after you with a vengeance? Is it because they instinctively know you don’t belong here? Do they feel threatened by your inexplicable existence? 

God… you’re so scared.

“Fushiguro!” Itadori screams. “Take [Name] and Kugisaki and get out of here! I’ll hold the curse back until you leave this place. When you’re safely outside, give me some kind of signal, and then I’ll swap with Sukuna. That way, no one has to die.” 

Fushiguro stares at him in disbelief. “Are you an idiot? That’s a special-grade curse! You won’t even last long enough to bring out Sukuna before we escape!” 

“Look at it. That thing… it’s laughing. It’s totally underestimating us. I should at least be able to buy you guys some time.” 

“There’s no way you can—” 

“Fushiguro,” Itadori says, expression painfully resolute. “I’m counting on you.” 

You groan weakly, and Fushiguro casts a fearful glance towards you. He must realize you’re already in a terrible state. It’s a miracle you even survived just now. The sheer volume of your cursed energy is what saved you, but against an opponent as powerful as a special-grade, it’s no use if you don’t actually know how to fight.

So, he grits his teeth and rushes over to you, then picks you up and lifts you onto his back. You’re in so much pain that even just clinging to consciousness proves incredibly difficult, but the feeling of being pressed up against Fushiguro’s warm back fills you with relief. He’s going to take you and Nobara out of here. The nightmare is almost over.

Fushiguro runs towards the exit, already preparing to summon his other Divine Dog. You feel terrible having to leave Itadori behind. If you were stronger at this stage, strong enough to help him fight that cursed spirit, he wouldn’t have to suffer so much. You know that he isn’t actually at risk of dying, but still. You can’t help but lament your weakness.

That’s why you need to survive today. So that you can be there to help when countless other lives are on the line. It’s unfair that Itadori has to shoulder this burden all on his own. He’s going to experience a sense of fear and dread that can’t even be put into words. 

I’m sorry, Itadori. I promise to try and help another time. I’m just… too weak right now. I’m really sorry. 

You’re nearly out of the room. Safety is almost within your grasp.

But yet again, the future you know changes. 

The cursed spirit blocks your path. 

“Fushiguro!” Itadori screams—but it’s too late, because he’s nowhere near fast enough to keep up with that thing. It may as well be teleporting with how quickly it moves around. Fushiguro just barely manages to leap out of the way before it delivers an attack strong enough to decimate the spot where he was just standing. 

You splutter again, dust clogging up your lungs. Something feels completely and utterly wrong. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The cursed spirit was supposed to have ignored Fushiguro and allowed him to escape, and instead focused all its attention on Itadori. But it’s barely even glancing Itadori’s way. 

It refuses to take its eyes off you. 

I’m not going to escape. 

A tear rolls down your cheek. If you try to run away again, along with Fushiguro… he’ll die. Itadori would have died without Sukuna’s help. The same is also true of Fushiguro. He’s not strong enough to take on that kind of opponent. No matter how many times he tries to escape with you, the curse will follow him. Relentlessly.

“Leave,” you mumble brokenly, and Fushiguro’s eyes widen, in visible disbelief. 

“What? But I can’t—” 

“It’ll chase after us. As long as I’m with you.” You slowly stand up, wincing as you do, and you hurry to wipe more tears away before they can fall. “Cursed spirits hate me. I can’t explain why. Every single one I’ve encountered gets aggressive when I’m nearby, and the weakest ones have outright fled because they can’t stand being close to me. Out of the three of us, this curse is most likely to attack me. That’s what my gut is telling me.” 

You should’ve known from the moment you found yourself in this world that you were far from lucky. Everyone dreams of meeting their favorite characters in the flesh, being able to talk with them, laugh with them, become part of their lives… but at what cost?

Either way, you already know one thing to be true.

From now on, until however long you manage to survive, your life will be filled with suffering. 

“Find Nobara, and escape together,” you say, doing your best not to let your fear show. You refuse to be the reason everyone dies. The two of them need to get out of here, at the very least. This is probably the end of the road for you. This is the most you were able to accomplish with this measly life of yours. 

If you’re going to die, at the very least, you don’t want it to be a pathetic death that leads everyone else to their demise.

“Just fucking leave already!” you cry out. “Why the hell are you still here?!” 

Fushiguro flinches, taken aback by your uncharacteristic harshness. He might seem cold at first, but you know that he cares deeply for people. He never wanted to leave Itadori by himself in the first place. The thought of abandoning both of you must make him feel like absolute shit. 

Still, he isn’t an idiot. He’s logical. Pragmatic. He knows not to let his personal feelings get in the way of important decisions.

And so, he runs.

You watch him disappear out the exit. As expected, the cursed spirit doesn’t bother trying to follow him. Even now, it’s still staring at you with that wide, disturbing smile. 

“[N-Name]?” Itadori stammers. “You… stayed behind? But why? You can’t be here! It’s too dangerous, you just can’t—”

“That thing won’t let me leave. Should I have put Fushiguro’s life at risk, too? It’s better this way. At least he and Nobara can escape. I refuse to drag them down with me.”

The cursed spirit continues to stare at you, cackling ever so often. You’re nowhere near as cool as you’d like to pretend to be. To think that you had all these plans, all these hopes and dreams of saving people from their gruesome fates, only to walk into death so soon. How embarrassing. You’re probably the single most pitiful isekai protagonist to exist. 

Oh, well. It was nice while it lasted. 

You suppose you’re going to die now. 

The cursed spirit launches itself at you, and like before, you instinctively bring up your arms, praying that you can coat yourself in enough cursed energy to avoid certain death. You’re blown back, just like last time, and you skid along the ground, gritting your teeth in an attempt to endure the pain. Your arms are looking bloodier and more fucked up by the second. You’re not sure how much longer you’ll even be able to move them for. 

“Leave [Name] alone!” Itadori screams, jumping to your rescue. Unfortunately, since he has yet to learn how to control his cursed energy, and he simply doesn’t have as much as you, he takes significantly more damage than you do.

He’s flung against one of the walls like you were earlier, but the cursed spirit doesn’t bother to finish the job and instead turns back towards you again. 

“Why?” you grit out. “Why are you so obsessed with me, you ugly freak? You’re not even my type!” 

The cursed spirit doesn’t laugh this time. It just stares at you, looking slightly unnerved. It must be wondering why your body isn’t as broken as Itadori’s. It seems frustrated with itself for not being able to kill you yet.

It attacks again. This time, it grabs onto you and slams you down into the ground. You wail out, almost positive that you’ve cracked a few ribs, and it proceeds to hold you in place, channeling what’s sure to be a devastating blow of pure, concentrated cursed energy. 

Shit. I think I might actually die now. This is so fucking scary. I don’t want to be here. I want to run away. I want to make it all stop. 

You bite back your tears and desperately try to remember that sensation from before, when you exorcized that curse in the abandoned building. It was a much weaker curse, without a doubt, but if you could just remember how you channeled your energy. If you could try to replicate that feeling, then maybe, just maybe, you might be able to inflict a bit of damage.

Even though it feels like all of your muscles are outright screaming at you, and your vision is clouding over more and more by the second, you manage to reach out your hand and place it against the curse’s body. 

In that moment, you envision being powerful enough to defeat your opponent. You imagine being as powerful as Gojo—no, Sukuna, even. You imagine a world in which you’re strong enough to protect the people you care about. A world in which everyone can survive.

What a beautiful world that would be. 

For a split second, you feel something similar to what you experienced before. A pulse of energy, something hot that courses through your entire body, in search of release. The cursed spirit is in direct contact with you, so your attack lands. 

Did it… work? 

You squint through your bleary eyes. The cursed spirit pulls away from you in a hurry and looks down at its arm, which appears distinctly burnt, as if it was just doused in flames. However, it clearly didn’t take that much damage. It’s still perfectly fine. 

Which means you failed. 

“Fuck,” you chuckle humorlessly. “I really thought I did something there.” 

The cursed spirit turns towards you again, angrily mashing its teeth together. Despite the fact that it’s still relatively unharmed, it clearly isn’t happy. It seems to be getting more offended by the second. Its ego must be huge.

Too weak to move after all the damage you’ve taken, all you can do is watch, hopelessly, as the cursed spirit raises its foot, no doubt imbuing it with more cursed energy than you can even fathom, and stomps it down right onto your arm.

You scream again. You’ve been screaming practically nonstop for the past few minutes. This time, your arm is broken. It feels like your bones have been completely pulverized and turned to dust.

It keeps punching and stomping on you, like some kind of little kid throwing a fit. With every blow you endure, the light in your eyes fades a bit more. You only made it this far because of some kind of glitch with your cursed energy. Sheer luck, essentially. But you aren’t invincible, and your body is starting to accumulate more damage than it can handle.

The cursed spirit lets out some kind of frustrated screech, and it stomps down on you one last time, breaking your other arm. 

You’re out cold now. The pain was too much for you to bear. You lie there, utterly defenseless, and as Itadori weakly hobbles towards you, he realizes your death is imminent. 

“No way,” he breathes, tears pricking his eyes. “Was I always… this weak?” 

He couldn’t do anything. The cursed spirit barely even paid attention to him. He may as well have been a fly buzzing around it. That’s how much of an afterthought he is. That’s how pathetic he turned out to be. 

And to think that he promised to protect you before. What a fucking joke. 

“Hey!” Itadori cries out. “I said, hey! Look at me, dammit! Look over here! I’m still alive, you bastard! Why don’t you leave her alone and finish me off instead?!”

The cursed spirit doesn’t even bother to turn its head. Itadori’s shoulders begin to tremble, and a sob escapes his lips as he’s forced to watch the curse dig its fingers into your hair and pick you up like some kind of ragdoll. You’re going to die. He can’t get over there in time, and even if he could, it wouldn’t make a difference. 

Itadori promised his grandfather that he would help people. And yet, he failed to help the person he cares about the most. He hasn’t even known you for very long, but you’re the closest friend he has. You met the last remaining family he had left. His grandfather adored you. 

How is he supposed to face him in the afterlife, if he lets you die here? 

Itadori has finally realized just how truly weak he is. Fushiguro hasn’t even given him the signal yet. Him and Nobara are probably still somewhere inside. If Sukuna finds them, there’s no guarantee they’ll be able to escape. But right now, he can’t think that far ahead. All he can do is focus on what’s right in front of him. 

He can’t save you. At least, not alone. 

“Sukuna. I’m going to switch over to you,” Itadori trembles. “But you… you have to save [Name]. You can’t let her die. You’ve always talked about being interested in her. You don’t ever shut up about her. There’s no way you would be okay with her dying here. Right? So, just… help her. Not for my sake. Do it for yourself. It doesn’t matter what your motives are, just… do it.” 

The cursed spirit prepares to deliver the finishing blow. It pulls his fist back, slowly building up more and more cursed energy. Its manic grin spreads out even wider as it readily anticipates your demise.

But then, it feels someone grabbing onto its arm, so it turns around. 

Only to realize that its arm has been fully ripped off. 

Sukuna stares at the cursed spirit, eyes dangerously narrowed.

“...did I give you permission to touch her?” 

More chapters are available on Quotev and Ao3!

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🔮 main masterlist! ♡ oneshot masterlist

[holyclitorius]

I NEED to get this off of my chest.

So I started playing a few visual novels on itch.io, and one of them happened to be The Kid At The Back. Now I want to preference this by saying that gaming in general isn’t anything new to me, something that I’ve been doing for 15+ years, and when it comes to yandere tropes, I tend to enjoy the depravity of it all (depending on how far it goes….sometimes I just be pissed off the whole time) ANYWAYS, I started playing the game because I saw a lot of people raving about it and was recommended it a few times. I was like, why not? Something new and interesting to experience. I went into this with a brief synopsis of the game. Read the itch.io page, talked to other gamers, ya know, the whole nine. Anyways, I start playing it, and immediately I am snatched up by Crowe. Fell for the man right off the bat. Not only is he beautiful on the outside but he’s beautiful on the inside. How can you not fall for such a beautiful person.

First Playthrough Reenactment:

*Starts Game* [Looks at the scale for the first time] *Sees Crowe* “Oh he’s kind of cute” *“Runs away” from Crowe* (cough) library route (cough)

*Sits next to dude in my seat because it’s not that serious* *Runs away from Crowe again* *Goes to class and partners with Sol* “Oh, so that’s him huh…..he's kind of cute, but something is off here, and it’s definitely not my pants” *Brushes it off, treats him politely, still upset about the forced number exchange…like why not discord or something…..man definitely looks like he has a discord account* [Looks at the scale again, Sol is smirking while Crowe is pouting....Interesting] *Receives message from Crowe to meet up* *Meets up with Crowe* *Grabs his arm and goes to watch the stars* ^Stareeeee^ “Goddamn why is this man so pretty!” *Kisses because fucking obviously, WTH you take me for. You give me the chance, and imma take it!” [Feeling uneasy….somethings wrong here, I just can’t put my finger on it] {Cue Careless Whisper Saxophone} ~That 5 dollars set ya girl free~ -The way I felt during this part…….i need to be locked tf up. Throw the key away! I’m so down bad- *Goes Home* {Day 2 BABY} ^Can't wait to see my man^ [Checks the scale…Sol is glaring at Crowe hard asf, but atleast Crowes happy] *Talks to the gang* *Ask about Crowe* ^Nonone has seen him^ “Ooookay, now I’m feeling anxious” *Goes looking for Crowe* *Hears his phone ringing from outside the school bounds* ^Anxiety STOP^ “Heh, welp. I’m sure Sol probably beat his ass and now he’s laid out somewhere around here. Surely it can’t be anything else” *Climbs the fence* *Falls, hurts herself and breaks phone, but MC is a real one and Crowe is too fine to be left behind, so we trudge forward* *See’s torn pieces of Crowe’s vest* “Ah Hell Nah” *Approaches shack* *Smells blood* ^I had to sit up for this one^ *Uses axe to break door down* ^Holding my breath^ *Finds Crowe’s body* ^suprise pikachu face. Immediatly gets mad as fuck^ “NOOO ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! MY MAAAAAN, MY BEAUTIFUL MAN!” “AND HIS HAIR IS CUT?! IT IS ON SITE!!!” ^still can’t believe it’s real so I check the scale^ “WTH IS THAT?!” *MC crashes out* (as she fucking should because wtf) *Enters Sol, looking deranged asf* ^me mad asf^ “Of fucking course, I should’ve known better. We’re definitely dead” *Mc realizes Sol killed Crowe* (because ofcourse) *Commences further crashout* *Proceeds to try to choke the man to death for killing “her everything”🥲* “I KNOW THATS RIGHT! GET HIS ASS!!!” *MC gets stabbed from behind* “NOOOO! WHO IS THAT?!” *Sol cries while MC dies* (if I could jump through the screen I would) *Sol starts bickering with unknown person* *Last word from person: No Witnesses* *Game ends: Bad Ending > No Witness ^Me: 😧 Me right now while typing this: 🤬

JUSTICE FOR MY MAN CROWE! FREE HIM FROM THE SHACKLES THAT ARE SOL.

[livfastdieyoung69]

OMG THE MOODBOARD MADE ME FERAL.

GIVE ME A HEEL READER X FACE CODY AND HE SUPPORTS READERS RIGHTS AND WRONGS.

I love cody im bawling hes so pretty

(current!cody rhodes x heel!reader, warning red hot bat shit diva incoming)

(the mood board in question)

Beautiful, Violent, Vulgar

Now, you love Cody. Truly, with everything in you. But he’s too nice sometimes. Along with everything else about him, you love Cody’s compassion for the people surrounding him, but he was genuinely kind to every single person he’d ever met.

Every here and there, you tell him that. He just kind of scoffs it off though, considering your reputation of being an asshole to everyone except him (most of the time).

This new annoying ass version of John Cena trying to prove it though? That pissed you off. What pissed you off even more was the ‘proof’ he gave in his last WrestleMania match.

You had a deep, terrible gut feeling that Cody was going to lose. The two of you tell eachother everything, and he had told you the same thing in the quiet of your bedroom the night prior. You would’ve been okay with it if it was fair, however, all of this with Travis Scott was bullshit. Nothing in your entire lifetime of constant bitching and discourteous actions, could have made you angrier than the disrespect put on the one person in the world that not only you could stand, but that could stand you.

The second the ref counted to three, you flew down to the Guerrilla and tried your best not to pick any fights in the mean time. That could wait until after you knew Cody was okay.

He looked completely defeated, and it broke your heart worse than you thought it would. When Cody finally looks up, his eyes immediately lock on you. The two of you rush to eachother, the tall man folding into your embrace.

“Baby…” You pull him tighter, hand curling in his short, bleached locks, the other around his back.

“I told you,” He shakes his head against you. “I told you.”

“Codes,” You pull him up a little so you were face to face. “You’ll get it back. I swear to God you’ll get it back. The only thing you proved out there is you are too good of a man to let bottom dwelling, filthy, middle aged, Hollywood sellouts manipulate you into changing.”

He scoffs, shaking his head but you keep talking.

“That’s what he is, Cody.” You nod. “And I know you used to love him, but that was when he was a wrestler, and a good man. He is not the good man he used to be, and if he needs Rihanna’s husband to get in your face then clearly he isn’t a good fucking wrestler either.” Your voice is growing with anger, so you take a quick breath and pull yourself together. “We can talk about that later. Are you okay? No injuries?”

He nods again, lips curling in the smallest smile, but the biggest one you’d seen just about all day.

“Just sore, that’s all.” You hum at his answer, rubbing up and down his sides before you pull your hands back. “I just- I just want to get out of here.”

You’re quick to lead him to the bus, running into Cathy Kelley who you might’ve yelled at for a quick seconds after Cody basically ran up the bus’ steps. Oops. You’ll give her an offhand apology through a gift card, maybe flowers, or something later, you know Paul put her up to it. Speaking of, you needed to have some words with him.

When you clamber up the steps of the RV and find Cody sitting at the cramped table with his eyes shut and his head against the wall behind him, all bruised and bloodied, the last teensy bit of self restraint you’d managed to keep leaves you. You will be having those words with Paul, now.

“Left my water bottle back in Guerrilla, baby, i’m gonna go grab it before we take off.” You’re already shoving the door open again, yelling that you’ll be right back over your shoulder while you speed walk through the background of Cathy’s screen time. You didn’t leave your water bottle, it was sitting right next to Cody. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice for a bit.

You’re storming through the Guerrilla like a lunatic, screaming for Paul at any passing person. Some staff member ran off the scene and grabbed his attention from the social media directors, creative team, press conference, and every other thing you could imagine and he’s rounding the corner with furrowed eyebrows under the reading glasses he didn’t get the chance to take off. Paul sighs, and his eyes close when he sees you. He says your name, riddled in pure exhaustion. You don’t care.

“No.” You stick your hand out. “What in the absolute fuck was that.”

“You know how this business works,” He tells you, attaching your name to it with the shake of his head like you’re some petulant child with no reasoning behind their argument. “He had to lose it eventually.”

“That’s absolutely not what i’m talking about and you know that. You make him lose, I don’t give a fuck, he’s still the best damn man in this place without a belt. But that bullshit with Scott was embarrassing. For this company, for Cody, for, and I couldn’t care less about him, but for Cena.” He tries to interrupt you again, and you shove the hand you’d been waving around back in his face. “I know you’re money hungry, Paul, but that was a fucking disgrace.”

He lets silence blanket over, the rest of the staff in the Guerrilla finally taking the hint to leave while he gathers his thoughts.

“I’ve known you for a very long time, kid.” He finally manages to start. “I know you’re very opinionated and you aren’t afraid to stand up for yourself. But I am your boss, and you can’t speak to me like that.”

“Oh, cmon, Paul,” You roll your eyes. “How many times have you threatened to fire me, huh? It’s not gonna happen. We both know that. I’m trying to bring light to the problems this company has with you running it- and you want nothing but money. Everything is a goddamn marketing scheme now, and it’s disgusting.” Stephanie rounds the corner, standing next to Paul just as you decide you’ve had enough and start to turn around.

“What’s going on here?”

“You and your husband are greedy moneybags running this company into the fucking ground!”

You hadn’t planned for all of this. All you’d wanted was to throw a couple back handed compliment around, but here you are, screaming at your bosses because you can’t help yourself, when all you want to do is get back out of the stadium to Cody.

Paul yells from behind the curtain of the Guerrilla you’d just torn through about how that was your second strike. This was your third second strike of the year, Paul really liked the idea that he had the ability to get your attitude managed with the threat of firing you. Usually, you would have rolled your eyes, maybe scoffed, and kept walking. Today, though?

Today, you may not have forgotten your water bottle, but Tiffany Stratton did, and it’s right there in all of its clunky, big-ass, bright pink, metal, Stanley cup glory. You pick it up and chuck it back through the curtain and against the wall behind him and Stephanie.

“You want to fire me, Paul? Do it! Do it!” You burst back through the curtain. “There’s your media reason.” You point to broken cup, spilling ice water everywhere on the ground. You’d buy Tiffy a new one, you were actually pretty good friends. “See where this company goes when we leave again. Back in the fucking trash.”

With your grand finale, Shawn Michaels steps in from behind you to gently lead you from the room. Though you may get on Paul’s nerves, you reminded Shawn a lot of his younger self. He was on drugs though, you’re just kind of bat shit. You finally start the dash back to the RV with no interference, walking back up the steps and plopping into the seat across from Cody with heavy breath.

He’s staring you with raised eyebrows and the gleam in his eyes tells you he’s trying not to smile. His big, veiny hand is spinning your water bottle on the table.

“What’d you do?” He tilts his head up, a tiny smile breaking through. You shrug.

“Nothing to worry about.”

“Did you get another strike?”

..

“…Maybe.”

I had absolutely no plans of doing this rn it’s so late but i miss cody so much

this is probably pretty bad i wrote it laying in bed on my phone im sorry </3

[towasdandelion]

Hello!! I hope you’re doing well

Your smau is really addicting i keep reading them over and over again I’m OBSESSED

Could you do hotarubi and obscuary after finding out that reader has gotten really injured (not life threatening though) during a mission without them?

Take your time pls no pressure!🫶🏻🫶🏻

Hiii! I'm doing great hehe. And thank you for reading my silly work! (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ Hmm for the scenario I went with a broken leg but now that I think about it... I hope it does count as 'really injured'. I have no way to know since I've never broken a bone in my life (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) Well, I hope you like this!

Hotarubi and Obscuary ghouls when you get injured during a mission without them

Subaru would be very worried about your but also a bit upset. He doesn't want you to hide anything from him. Apparently it doesn't matter he would probably do the same. He wouldn't feel any resentment towards the ghouls who took you on a mission, or so it seems. He's always poised and polite but deep down he thinks the ghouls failed miserably with keeping their inspector safe. He will keep it to himself though. He'd rather focus on taking care of you anyways. And he will do just that, making sure to do it with the utmost care.

Haku's dad mode just activates. Get ready for some scolding once he sees you. Why would you keep it from him when he cares about you so much? Why are you trying to act tough when he's right there to take care of you? Expect to be carried everywhere bridal style and don't even bother saying no, he will just ignore it. You can say the embarrassment is the price to pay for trying to hide your injury from him. Will definitely have a talk with the ghouls who went on the mission with you, trying to find out what exactly happened.

Zenji is too busy worrying to be upset you hid the injury from him. His precious girl got injured! He will focus on nursing you back to health, spending a lot more time with you than usual to make sure you're not doing anything reckless. He's basically at your service 24/7 now. If you're bored from having to sit more he will come up with plenty ways to keep you entertained. His personal favorite one is storytelling. He will actively engage you in it, and you two will create a lot of new tales for him to transfer onto paper later.

Ed was lurking around Darkwick in his bat form the day you were supposed to come back, eager to see you. That's when he caught glimpse of you struggling to walk, with the ghouls supporting you. He becomes uncharacteristically serious, immediately calling you out. You'd be better off not arguing with him. Well, usually you take care of him when he's being lazy and now it's time to return the favor. Will insist on moving you to his room for the time being "so he doesn't have to move his old body too much" but we all know it's just an excuse to have you close to him 24/7.

Rui is devastated he wasn't there when it happened so he could use his stigma to numb your pain. But not everything is lost! Once he starts taking care of you, make sure to complain about the pain so he can be your painkiller. (please it will make him very happy I promise) Also insists on moving you to Obscuary, but his reason is more believable. He can be more efficient with taking care of you and the rest that way. Will actually install a lock on your door in case Ed tries to visit you. He has everything under control! The perfect malewife.

Lyca's protective instincts kick in the moment Subaru apologized to him for not protecting you enough. He's nothing going to hold a grudge against his friend, but he wishes he could have been there. The fact that you tried to hide your injury from him isn't helping. He's looking out for every chance to prove to you how reliable he can be and this is the perfect one. He will do his best to take care of you, even carry you around if you wish. If someone accidentally bumps into you while walking you might want to hold him down or else he will start growling at the poor student..

[yvesssssssss]

Hii thanks for doing my blind date request it was amazing!

Another idea I had was how would sakamoto characters celebrate their S/O birthday? I feel like gaku would have a crazy experience planned for them while someone like shishiba or uzuki would have a quiet dinner with candles and roses maybe but your choice! If it's not too much bother could rion please be included as one of the characters🙏 thank you love everything you post!

How the sakamoto days men celebrate their s/o's bday

Hii sweetie!! Thank you for the kind words^^ i hope you like it!!

Gaku

Gaku doesn’t really get how birthdays work, but he tries—really tries. You wake up to loud banging and him shouting, “DON’T COME OUT YET!” followed by the smell of something burning. He’s attempted to bake you a cake… using a blowtorch. The kitchen’s a war zone, but the lopsided cake says “YAY YOU EXIST” in shaky icing, and he beams at you like a proud kid.

Then, without warning: “Wanna fight?”

He means it affectionately. His idea of a good time is sparring (with padded gloves this time), taking you to a rundown arcade, and treating you to street food. It’s chaotic, rough around the edges, but full of genuine effort—his version of showing he cares. He even gives you a little trinket from one of his old missions, saying, “It reminded me of you. Tough, but cool.”

Uzuki kei

Uzuki doesn’t celebrate birthdays in the traditional sense—he sees them as points of vulnerability. But for you, he makes a quiet exception. He doesn’t throw a party or take you out. Instead, he books a private room at a quiet teahouse, where you sit by the window and watch the rain with fragrant tea and delicate sweets.

His gift? A personalized item that suggests he’s been watching you closely—too closely. A rare first edition of a book you mentioned once in passing, or a pendant engraved with your name in his handwriting. He doesn’t say "Happy Birthday." He says,

“I wanted today to feel… peaceful. You deserve at least that.”

There's something beautiful but unsettling about how carefully he constructs the night—like he’s preserving it, just in case he loses you.

Rion akao

Rion is the kind of person who wakes you up by jumping on the bed, singing her own off-key version of "Happy Birthday." She plans too much—a full itinerary of spontaneous plans that somehow end up working. You’re dragged to a retro diner, a batting cage, and a surprise group dinner with everyone you love.

She's a whirlwind—loud, funny, loving—but somewhere near the end of the night, when it's just the two of you, she gets serious.

“You know, you’re my favorite person. Ever. I mean that.”

Her gift is personal and emotional: a photo album, a hoodie she swiped from you and embroidered with something dumb and sweet, or a letter sealed in a Hello Kitty envelope (that she threatens you not to cry over).

Even after all the noise, she ends the day by holding your hand quietly and whispering,

“Thanks for being born. 'Cause I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t.”

Shishiba

Shishiba acts like your birthday is just another day. He’s gruff, says, “Don’t expect anything,” and even pretends to forget in the morning. But when night falls, you return home to find the lights dimmed… and the living room softly lit by candles. There’s a quiet jazz playlist in the background, your favorite takeout (because he knows he’d mess up cooking), and a modest bouquet of deep red roses resting on the table.

When you look at him—stoic as ever, arms crossed—he avoids eye contact.

“It’s not a big deal. I just figured… you like this sappy stuff, right?”

He’s a man of few words, but his actions scream care. The knife he gives you as a gift is custom-made, etched with something small but meaningful—maybe your initials or an inside joke. He doesn’t say, “I love you,” but when he sits close, brushing your hand with his, you feel it in the silence between you.

Later, as you’re resting your head on his shoulder, he murmurs:

“You bein’ here... makes the whole job thing suck less. Just thought you should know. Happy birthday.”

[can-i-get-a-yippee]

The 118 (plus Athena) being the 5 stages of grief:

Denial : Athena - She continues to pick out paint colors for the walls and talks about moving in. She’s thinking about furniture and goes back to work after only a few weeks off — forcing her life back into normalcy the best she can despite the fact it’s never going to be normal again. She keeps up a facade in the house that was supposed to represent a future that is now gone and pretends and pretends and pretends. Because the moment that she exchanges a kind word with Chimney, the moment she acknowledges the truth that her husband is dead and their future together now a pipe dream — she can no longer live in denial.

Anger : Eddie - On the surface, he seems to be fine enough. He’s keeping it together enough to not scare his kid, but there’s guilt and shame bubbling just beneath his skin. He is angry. Angry at the grief. Angry at the death. Angry at himself. And he doesn’t know how to move past it — he doesn’t know how to move forward from this feeling of unfairness and fury that makes him want to take a baseball bat to the walls of his bedroom again. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that this all happened when he was states away, unable to help. It’s not fair that he found out over the phone, unable to scream and cry and embrace those who understood what Bobby meant to him. It’s not fair that he’s once again too fucking late to help. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. And that just continues to fuel the anger.

Bargaining : Buck - Bobby gave him a purpose. In his final words to him, Bobby gave him purpose and as long as he does as he was told, Bobby’s death meant something. So, he doesn’t need to process his own grief because the other members of his team — his family — need him just like Bobby said. He can help them. He WILL help them. He’ll check their mental state with questions measuring their grief and try to bring back family bonding and dinners and be the strong one that everyone can lean on and depend on. Because as long as he does, there’s meaning in the world, and everything will be okay. Bobby is dead, but everything will be okay as long as he does what was asked of him…right?

Depression : Chimney - The light at the end of the tunnel seems so far away right now, and he doesn’t really know how to move forward. He knows there are good things to come — every morning he gets to kiss his beautiful wife, hug his precious daughter, and count the days until he gets to meet his son — but there’s a shadow over every happy moment. Because the only reason he is here is because Bobby is not. Every breath he takes, every beat of his heart — he’s reminded of that fact over and over and over again. It’s overwhelming. The guilt is eating him alive, and he can’t escape the shackles of misery that seems to grow heavier with every rebuff of Athena. He wants to take care of her, to help the person Bobby loved most in the world, and she won’t let him, and he feels like he’s being drowned by the weight of his inadequacy and guilt.

Acceptance : Hen - The day to day has changed, and nothing will ever be the same. But you have to keep moving forward. You can’t grieve standing still. So, she acts as a sounding board to Athena and the other members of her 118, walking hand in hand with them in their grief. Her grief is still there, an ever present pain like a thumb pressed into a bruise, but no amount of denial or anger or bargaining or depression will change this new reality so she carries on and tries to accept this new normal and see the light in life even in the darkest time. And maybe, just maybe, this weight on her shoulders and in her heart will lighten with time and love. Bobby is gone, but his impact and his love transcends his death.

[theotherrookie]

There were many thoughts going through Rook's mind as they proceeded. She had to decide what to do with Frosty, consider how to handle anything that Five was going to throw at them, as well as ensure everybody would get out of there in one piece. Stealth didn't seem like much of a priority when he was already aware of their presence.

"Oh, that's really sad." Erica said, looking at Travis over her shoulder, "But you guys aren't alone this time, okay?"

Lucien quietly showed he agreed with her by giving Russell's hand a gentle squeeze.

"At least we won't have stupid technical glitches stacked against us." Rook replied, "And we aren't up against Pyramid Head, just a horse's ass."

Though her mother had the right idea by calling Five a snake. Veronica would have loved to beat that nasty habit of injecting everybody around him with toxins out of him…

She would have to come back to that thought once they were done here, Frosty was the priority now. At a first glance, she would have guessed he wasn't used to using his magic for intense fights. Still, she doubted whatever Frosty had drunk was only intended to integrate his stamina. Previous experiences suggested they'd have to get it out of his system.

Erica waited until they were all through to raise her tails and pull out her baseball bat. A bit of snow wasn't much of an issue to a former zombie.

Willow would also pass on the flaming pigeon juice, feeling her body likely wouldn't take it well. So she took that moment to observe the inside of Five's hideout, knowing too well to expect anything from a repurposed factory.

"Take the high ground, Simon. You aren’t built for combat." Willow said, taking her shades off.

Lucien silently took a potion. He could sense the temperature beginning to drop, he'd rather be prepared against frostbite.

"Hurry up, it's starting." Veronica urged them.

Frosty didn't look right. His footing was unsteady as he stared at his shaking hands. He felt like he had just downed three energy drinks after not sleeping for a week. The energy building up inside of him made everything blurrier and more distant, except for an intense desire to freeze everything in his path.

"Come on, then. I'm waiting." Five said, bumping his sword against the shield, "I'll take you freaks out and then I'll be free to do with this city as I please. Oh, I cannot wait!"

There was something vile in his tone that prompted Rook to step forward.

"Mamma, pensaci tu."

Blazefury finally made its appearance and hovered at Rook's side as she slowly made her way over. Those were already two tricks Five couldn't do with his own weapon and soon enough, she kindly showed him a third one. Five was not ready when Rook closed in the remaining distance by riding on her sword like a skateboard, before kicking it at him. He covered his side and the sword left a nice dent in his shield, before bouncing back into Rook's hands.

"Bet you weren't expecting that, uh?" Rook went in for another heavy swing and like that, the fight was on.

Veronica took position up front as instructed, but didn't draw her sword. Ice users had to be fought with fire, she would need both hands.

"If any one of you wishes to take a page out of Erika's book, the time is now."

Willow promptly understood the assignment and reached for a smoke bomb. The next step was getting to use it, for Frosty was ready to make his move.

The temperature dropped considerably again as Frosty raised his arms. He was too impatient to get back into the fight to waste time with banter. He was going to start by rearranging the terrain in his favor.

Erica tilted her head as she looked up. "Oh, it's snowing inside."

That soon became quite an understatement as a full snowstorm broke out.

There was unfortunately no way to tell what kind of role Frosty was going to play yet. While they could hope he'd start questioning what they were doing, there was as much of a chance what he had discovered wouldn't be enough to get over his prejudice or the rest of the lies Five had been feeding him.

Rook was doing her best to keep an optimistic view while her helmet hid her rather skeptic look. She wouldn't be surprised if someone willing to work with Five disappointed them again.

"Well, at least we know he can't burn his way through metal." Rook said, "It probably doesn't work on dragon scales either. You guys be careful in there, t isn't ideal to strip down in the middle of a fight."

"While we're on the topic of our outfits, when will you be drawing your sword?" Willow asked.

"Ideally, when Frosty gets out of the way. But since that's not going to happen in a timely manner, it'll be as soon as Five finally decides to fight me." Rook watched as her mother disappeared into the toxic fog.

The tails were cold and felt like velvet to the touch. Once everybody was done picking one, Erica gently tugged at them, before following after her doubles.

"We all have fun and that's enough for me." Erica replied, smiling fondly, "They're going to love hearing the story of how we all kicked Five's butt!"

Lucien shook his head, "Let's actually write it before you start telling it."

"Alright, guys, watch your feet." Rook said as they approached the fog.

The entrance to the hideout led to a dimly lit narrow corridor. The few surviving lights that hadn't been shattered did very little against the toxic fog while the glass shattered everywhere worked well against any attempt at walking quietly.

That bothered Erica a great deal, judging by the constant twitching of her ears. She would have normally resolved to crawling up the wall, but the others likely wouldn't have been as comfortable with the sudden change of angle.

"I can't see like this." she complained.

"Just follow us." Willow said, switching to night vision on her shades. Rook kept walking, not at all bothered by the darkness.

Being even less hindered by all this, Veronica casually floated along. It didn't look like Five had set up any traps. Or perhaps he had and they weren’t working as intended. Locking away the pervert had been a great a strategic decision.

"We're almost through." the ghost lady said, pushing past the last of the fog. All things considered, she would have preferred not witnessing the scene before her. "Disgusting snake."

Five looked up, before he shoved another vial in Frosty's hands. "Take it. It'll give you some of your strength back."

Frosty held onto the supposed remedy without much of a protest. He looked in a bit of a dazed state, the cause of which would have been best searched in the pink streak in Five's hair.

"Come on, Frosty, I still need you." Five insisted as he stood up, "Our guests have come for round two."

Frosty shrugged weakly as he gulped down the concoction. He wasn't sure what was in that stuff, but he definitely felt some kind of surge building up inside him right away.

He'd be up and ready to fight again in a minute. Smiling behind the metal mask, Five drew his sword before he raised his arm, summoning a tactical shield.

"Now, then, where were we?"

[stars-n-kites]

really an inexplicable train of thought but i feel like taako is the kind of person who in a modren era au would just decide to go to a shooting range and learn how to shoot a pistol for funsies, but would consider learning to spin the pistol all cool like they do in cowboy movies to be his first and foremost priority. like hes already bought a holster and the moment he is given a gun he immediately starts trying to twirl it. the instructor has to tell him to stop or theyll take the gun away from him. he keeps trying to lead the conversation back to it anyway because he really feels like theyre putting the cart before the horse here if hes learning how to shoot the gun before even knowing how to dramatically reholster it if he were to get in some sort of cowboy duel. hes actually really good at the shooting part but he gets kicked out of the class after his eighth guntwirling attempt in which he accidentally flicks the safety off mid twirl and shoots one of their light fixtures

[bacchuschucklefuck]

love thinking kipperlilly spends her afterlife looking for lucy in a familiar forest

[discordiansamba]

rin has never really had friends before.

he'd tried, sort of. but it's hard to make friends when you're never in one place for too long- and when you have to cut off all contact when you do move. it's a bit of a moot point anyways, since neither he nor his mom even had so much as a cell phone. it's also hard to make friends when people tend to be wary of you- he knows that technically, he's part human but he was never human enough for his human classmates.

cram school is the last place he expects to make friends.

he tries to keep his distance at first- he knows everyone here is aiming to become an exorcist. exorcists are his enemies (even if demons weren't always his allies, either- his only real ally was his mom, and she's currently missing). he expects they'll be wary of him too- he's a nephilim- and they are, at first.

except for shiemi, that is.

that's what opens the door, he thinks. shiemi is friendly to him right off the bat, and he finds himself drawn to her too. as much as he comes into conflict with suguro, they end up becoming friends too- and with him comes his friends. he's not so sure if he's friends with izumo or takara, and he's pretty sure yukio can't stand him still. but before he knows it, he starts letting himself get just a bit closer to them.

...and then everything goes up in flames.

so rin falls back on the one thing he's done all his life- when the truth comes out, he runs. it just hurts a lot more this time, he realizes. looking back on it, maybe getting close to them had been a mistake. he should have known better. he's a demon- the spawn of satan- and they're exorcists. of course they'd hate him if they knew the truth.

he won't make that mistake again.

(and yet, he still finds himself drawn to them in inari- he should have bolted at the first sight of them, but instead he follows them. something is wrong, he can tell-

-where are izumo and shima?)

okumura rin is an enigma.

it's not the first time yukio has met a nephilim- but most of the ones he's met have a lot thinner blood than rin has. based on his tail, teeth and ears, he would say that he has to be a second generation nephilim at the very least- because a first generation in this day in age would have drawn a lot more attention. he doubted one would be able to stay under the radar like he had for so long.

he says his human mother is dead.

he never mentions his father. yukio theorizes he doesn't know him- and he doesn't ask. he doesn't know anything about his biological parents either, much as he might want to- but at the same time, he's well aware how annoying the constant barrage of questions can be. rin doesn't seem to know what demon he's related to either, which makes enough sense, he supposes.

whoever she was, his mother must have once had some kind of connection to the order- she'd left him an odd variant on the cram school key. the preceptor cheerfully enrolls him in cram school and true cross academy- and then turns to him with a smile, as if he'd just remembered that he had no roommate. look after okumura-kun for me then, fujimoto-kun!

...so now yukio has a nephilim roommate.

rin's belongings amount to a large duffel bag stuffed full of clothing and a camper's backpack containing odds and ends. he quickly finds out that he and his mom rented fully furnished apartments- when they weren't living out of a tent in the woods or in a homeless encampment. he's clearly trying not to talk about his past, but he also can't seem to help let things slip.

and yukio thought his childhood was abnormal.

rin is also lazy- a slacker who has no interest in academics. even though the preceptor himself got him into cram school, he sleeps through a lot of his classes and doesn't seem interested in the course work in the slightest. he brushes off the homework yukio assigned him, and sometimes stays out late at night- honestly, it's starting to piss him off.

they get along like oil and water, he thinks.

(and yet, for some reason... there's something about living together with him that feels right. there's always been an empty space in yukio's life- at least, there is until rin shows up and naturally slots himself in there. it's... nice, yukio thinks.

...but rin still gets on his nerves.)

[angeltism]

EEEEEEH honestly during the time we were mutuals we interacted like a maximum of . two times. perhaps even just once. which is a bit crazy considering all of this now. i was just scared of trying to keep interacting honestly HSJAHDJSHD but if you dont feel like dating after i reveal myself that is completely absolutely alright! i would appreciate having you as a friend just as much! its whatever you prefer and whatever you feel more comfortable with :3

- 💌 anon

oooh well . still honestly I bet uur kewl <3 and yayaya !! thank uu for being understanding , I very much appreciate it . to be faaair , I do . kinda . have a soft spot for uu , y'know ? so even if it isn't immediately . . . the idea isn't something I'm opposed to ^_^

[borriiiicha]

do u guys kno. just how much i screwed myself over

[mydr3aminvi0let]

oh ew omg i am indeed being watched. everybody is on some weirdddd shit.

[sleepincrow]

suggestive content.

what if he sex bans YOU. what if he threatens YOU with the lack of delicious sex?? what if he punishes YOU with no sex—to see what would happen to you, how pathetic you would become, hm? begging him to forgive you and for him to just relent and fuck you?

AND WHAT IF HE REGRETS IT, NOT A WEEK INTO THE MONTH-LONG SEX BAN HE PROMISED YOU. WHAT THEN???

"please, pretty baby~ 𖹭" he'd coo so fucking pathetically. it doesnt matter what position you could be in, in the end, he's the pathetic one. he would bat his eyelashes, trying to woo you over with his velvety words, all the while he tries to hide the tears that's gathered in his eyes from the soulful desperation of not being able to rut his hard cock on your thigh, let alone fuck you. "ive already forgiven you, so let's just stop this whole thing, yeah?"

oh stars, he's trying—trying to act as if he didnt put you in this situation.. as if he didnt put himself in this situation. you clicked your teeth. it's truly so cute how he thinks he still has the choice.

"but baby," you start, also batting your eyelash in false innocence. "you were right, i needed this punishment, so im taking full responsibility!" the slight growl and grunt thet came out of his irritated mouth was enough for you to know that your acting was perfect.

"don't act so mature now!" his grip on you tightens. underneath these calloused hands that hold onto you with a rough and wanting motive was the hidden sea of desperation. the hold youve got on his hips, keeping him from touching you, its pissing him off.

"come on, honey, you wanted this for me, right?" you mumbled under your breath, looking through him with those big eyes of yours. its taking everything in him to not just rut into you. anything'll do.

and he couldnt help it.. he was desperate!

"fuck.. come on, please? sh-shit i cant— i cant do this 'nymore. need- need to feel ya, baby, please?" he's fully given up at this point. he curses out his sex drive for giving up so early, and silently curses out to you. how could you endure this further than him? surely this is of your doing. somehow.

yes. it has to be you. youre too pretty doing whatever you want. its not like he can help it, youre too addicting. looking at you is a treat for him, a privilege to others, is it not? thats why. thats why he cant go much longer than a week without feeling you

he's deep into your neck, nose pressed against your soft skin, inhaling the scent of you. whatever he can get backfires cause his cock just becomes harder in the confines of his pants. strong arms envelope you, quivering in the need to fill you. look how you have him wrapped around your finger, clinging on to you as he pleads in your ear.

"im sorry, please, just fuck me."

he doesnt remember why he even punished you in the first place. all he wanted was to know how long it would be before you'd come crawling to him, begging to put his dick inside you. turns out he folded way before due. all he can think about is shaming his own hand for not being able to replicate how your pretty cunt squeezes him just perfectly. just enough to force his eyes into the back of his head. nothing could replicate you.

you feel too good. better. youre his ecstacy, dont you get it?