#and then he asked me why so i had to act like a normal person??? like. uhhhh i was just uhhhh talking about it with someone uhhhhh

[misspelledwordswizard]

Rude Hylian: that water control doesn't look very threatening, and it wouldn't be useful in an area without water, so what are you going to do with that size and useless power, huh?

reader developing a branch of waterbending called 'bloodbending': ⁠(⁠・⁠▽⁠・)

It would also be funny if the chain was in danger, many enemies, few supplies, weapons are exhausted, Hyrule is about to collapse and suddenly reader is like 'The Windows operating system has been updated'

This is so funny to me, but I think I ended up writing something more serious hehe Ah, I think today is thanksgiving for you guys, so happy thanksgiving ;)

I felt my body burning and my head buzzing, when the sound of the environment was nothing more than a great confusion. A hot liquid ran down my head, which throbbed with pain. My blurred vision could barely notice as the blond heroes fought not far from me.  

Unfortunately, they were all too busy to help me. Each one had to deal with one or more enemies, I could feel their worried looks at me, but they couldn’t leave there to help me. The biggest problem was the member of the Yiga clan who was coming towards me. The same one who attacked me.  

Normally, I could easily help them with this using my waterbending, but unfortunately for me, we were in a dry region now. We were heading towards the Gerudo Desert when we were caught in this ambush, and the mountains we were crossing weren’t exactly a good representative of water. Shit.  

I managed to get up, still a little dizzy, but able to stay on my feet and try to face my enemy.  He laughed, laughed at my attempt to keep fighting. 

— Don’t bother, girl. We knew very well that with water you would be a threat, that’s why we made sure you passed through here. Here you are nothing more than a defenseless little girl. 

He said, laughing at my face as if I were a big joke. Little shit. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the boys try to come to me, but they were automatically stopped by a Yiga. Fucking cowards, they ran away to the desert so they wouldn’t have to face me. 

My blood boiled, anger took over me, I wanted so much to end these idiots. I wanted to drown them in water, kick their asses, make them regret their choices. 

— There’s no point in trying, you won’t- 

— Shut the fuck up! – I interrupted him. My body acted on impulse, I moved so naturally that I couldn’t even think, all I know is that, with one movement of mine, the Yiga was kneeling, writhing in pain. 

Did I do that? Instincts, that was all the information I had. And, somehow, that was enough to make me able to control a person. Or rather, control the blood, the liquids, that are in their body. Cool. 

I couldn’t help but smile wryly, it seems that not even in a place without water can they stand against me. Now consciously, I moved my hands, still based entirely on instincts, and threw the Yiga away, making him fly out of sight. 

This isn’t as easy as normal waterbending, it requires more effort, but I feel like I’m adapting to it.  I managed to stop the blood that was running down my face, eliminating my dizziness, and turned to the Yigas who were attacking the heroes. They seemed to be able to handle it, but it doesn’t hurt to help them. 

One by one, I levitated and threw them away, leaving them unconscious. I know I could do much worse with bloodbending, but I don’t want to lose control, I don’t even know how I’m doing it yet. In the end, I managed to get rid of the remaining enemies, allowing this tiring battle to end. 

— How the fuck did you do that?! – Was the first thing the Veteran asked. I just shrugged, also not knowing the answer. 

— Are you okay? – Hyrule said, coming towards me. The poor guy looked like he was done for after using so much of his magic when some of his brothers were hit during the fight. 

— It’s okay, I managed to stop the bleeding. Sorry, I don’t know if I can heal you without water... 

— Is there water in my canteen, is that enough? – The Rancher asked, offering his canteen to me. 

— For healing? I think so. 

— That was so cool! Tell me more about how it happened? – Wind asked excitedly, making me laugh. 

— Let’s fix you guys first, okay? 

[mutable-manifestation]

Ghost Chirps AU Part 5

Part 1 & 2

Part 3

Part 4

***

While “Jason” (i.e. Alfred with an empty jet that Jason will meet up with later in order to “arrive” in Amity) hops a private jet, Red Hood is busy searching the Fenton home from top to bottom.

The local police move slowly, and by the time they arrive Jack and Maddie Fenton are both tied up and disarmed in their living room under heavy guard.

They hadn’t been restrained immediately, Batman talking him into giving them a chance to implicate themselves first.

Hood let him take the lead, but he didn’t even get a chance to ask a question, being cut off at the first indication he might want to talk about their “work.” Less than 60 seconds in, and the pair had outright confessed to violating the meta protection acts - and in tedious detail.

The questioning didn’t suffer any from them being tied up.

Far from the mulish silence or crocodile-tear laden denial of most criminals, they instead doubled down, insisting that nothing they had done was illegal, then jumping to the assumption that they were “possessed” - and boy had it been a nasty surprise when the whole house came alive trying to attack them with a quick verbal command.

Well, trying to attack Hood. And only him, for some reason.

One laser also freed the Fentons, who turned out to have even more weapons built into their suits. 

Somehow. 

Despite them being skintight.

That had been a pain, but Red Robin was able to hack the system using one of the couples’ own devices while Hood dodged - and kept the stray fire away from the others - leaving everyone else to recapture the pair. A blessedly simple task once they found out the lasers would splash harmlessly off of their armor (save for a gross film of green goop left wherever they grazed).

They take turns knocking each unconscious to change them in order to properly disarm them - Batman and Nightwing taking Jack first, followed by Orphan and Spoiler dealing with Maddie. 

The only non-weapon laden clothing they own turns out to be pajamas. 

This is around when the police show up, looking hesitant.

They, too, cite the “Anti-Ecto Acts.”

Oracle had debriefed them on the supposed Acts and “Ghost Investigation Ward” on their short drive over. Both were utterly bogus - the Acts had never even been proposed, let alone been approved as law, and the so-called “GIW” had no ties to the government.

The Fentons had been furious and denied the information intensely when told, but the cops mostly just looked relieved.

Apparently there’d been a lot of property damage by the GIW and Fentons both that had supposedly been dismissed under the Acts as “necessary in the pursuit of ecto-scum.”

For the Fentons, half of this damage was in the form of broken fire hydrants, cracked sidewalks, and totaled cars - they’d never been good drivers, before, the cops disclosed, but they’d become even more negligent since the ghosts began appearing, to the point they had to have a news segment warning when they would be on the road.

The lack of fatalities thus far had been nothing short of a miracle, they claimed.

“Of course there haven’t been any fatalities!” Mrs Fenton defends. “Our work is to protect people from those things, not make more! Officers, listen to reason-” Hood snorts disdainfully -”The Red Hood is clearly a ghost! All our systems targeted him the moment they came online - and they only target ecto-entities. He’s clearly taken these heroes under his sway - why else would they be working with a murderer!? You have to do something before he starts up his killing here in Amity!”

The officers look at him a bit hesitantly, but Batman is unmoved and gives the cover story Hood had outlined back in the alley.

Any concerns the locals have are quickly assuaged.

But for the whole explanation, Jason is trying not to shake even as he falls apart in place.

Their little website called them ghost-hunters, making it pretty clear what “ecto-entities” meant. 

Their system supposedly only targets ecto-entities.

The system had only targeted him.

The system only targets ghosts.

Jason had died.

A lot of his family members had died, too, granted. 

But Jason was the only one who seemed to come back wrong - anger sticking in his throat and never quite fading, an inclination towards violence even when he wasn’t angry well beyond what he’d ever felt before, and a sea of other emotions (that he would never acknowledge aloud) and triggers for those emotions that he always struggled to make heads or tails of.

He doesn’t have the meta gene. He knows that. He knew that.

He just assumed that the test missed it, because he knows he doesn’t know magic - the All Blades being the only exception - and he couldn’t think of another explanation at the time.

But he came back wrong.

And as he stands there, he wonders if he came back at all, mind on Solomon Grundy.

Wonders if he isn’t just some ghost, wandering around possessing his own corpse.

He jolts, as the thought strikes him: what about Danny?

If he’s a ghost and chirping is a ghost thing then what about his KID!?

Absently, he notes that Bruce has started interrogating the cops on what they meant by “ghost attacks.” 

He ignores the discussion, hustling for the door in the kitchen down to the lab.

He slams and locks the door behind him - in Red Robin’s face - as he descends, making a b-line for the computer he’d seen when the Fentons had dragged them all down there to start bragging about their crimes.

The only thing Oracle could get out of the whole building was things that were openly available online; direct connections were impossible.

Opening up the screen, he gets to cracking.

Going for the surface level files first, it turns out he doesn’t even need so much as a password to find what he wants.

One of the video game sub-files has an unrelated file in it: ghost notes.

There are plenty of other notes, of course, but he’d only been skimming to start, looking for anything hidden.

The Fenton parents were too open to bother, of course, with plenty of more obvious files strewn haphazardly across the home screen, but it’s always better to check. That there is a hidden file means it was likely made by either Danny or Jazz.

And it’s a treasure trove.

Sub-files for rogues, allies, conditional allies, and “halfas” were what greeted him.

The last being the only term he didn’t recognize, he clicked.

6 files: Clones, Danny, Dani, Dan, Vlad, and Red Hood.

He clicks his own file.

What greets him is a picture of himself 4 days ago, looking just to the left of the lens in an alley that he distinctly remembers searching for the kid in.

Just below is text.

~~~

??? Name: Red Hood

Species: probably a halfa

Status: Nnnneutral? I think? I know, I know, heads in bags. But Valerie tries to kill me all the time! And we’re allies sometimes! Hood- uh- looked for me? Okay I guess I can’t really judge this yet but please read the first met section before you judge please you guys?

First met: Aug 17, 2005, was in Gotham to bother Batman, stopped to think a bit on some fire escape - decide on the first prank yknow - but then my ghost sense went off. It felt like a halfa so I thought “oh cool, must be Dani” so I chirped, but then Red Hood - who was chasing some guy down an alley at the time - froze and looked around. I dropped visibility and chirped again and yeah, he definitely heard it. Humans can’t so he’s definitely a halfa - no glow so he can’t be a full ghost and it felt nothing like an overshadowing. 

Ended up following Hood around the rest of week - forgot to prank Batman, damn - and playing hide-and-seek with the chirps. It was really funny. But he very obviously doesn’t know he’s a halfa. But the guy is, like, scary levels of smart, so I’m sure he’ll figure it out on his own now that the chirp thing made it clear that something is up. Hopefully.

I figure I can go back in winter break - he should have it figured out and let his emotions process enough by then to at least hear me out when I explain the AEA and GIW and everything, then it won’t matter so much if he can, like, track me by voice or something if I talk since we’ll have MAD by then.

Despite his reputation, the people living in his haunt seem to love the guy. I can see why. On top of the whole smart he’s actually really nice to people he’s not shooting in the knees (which only even happened one time in the week I was there? It was actually pretty relaxing - most quiet week I’ve had since the portal opened THANK YOU TUCKER for hacking the portal hatch to be inoperable for a week). 

Where was I? Oh yeah, he’s actually surprisingly nice to people? So like, I think he’ll probably hear me out if I go back and be polite? I hope. Hate to leave the guy in the dark and him end up on the GIWs dissection table for “lots and lots of painful experiments.”

Not that those guys could even catch the Box Ghost. But uh, Hood doesn’t seem to have powers either? Or if he does he doesn’t know about them I don’t think - he only used the chirp the whole time I was their - not even to cheat with moving around.

Seriously. That guy's acrobatics could make Freakshow’s contortionist green - er, red??? - with envy. Actually wait, aren’t contortionists and acrobats different things?

SAM NOTE: help^?

Powers: 

?

~~~

Jason leans back, breathing deeply.

“Not a full ghost,” “not 'overshadowed'” - a term that sounds likke some kind of cousin to possesision - “definitely a halfa,” “humans can’t hear chirps.”

Halfa. 

Half. 

Ghost. 

Half Ghost.

It should sound absurd - you can’t be half alive and half dead.

But Jason has seen the Lazarus pits, has met Solomon Grundy, has met aliens and bullshit magic and can pull magical swords out of his own damn chest.

Half alive. Half dead.

Hopefully not just a fancy way to say possessing his own corpse.

He doesn’t have time to deal with every file - he’ll “confiscate” one of their USBs with a copy of everything for himself before leaving the rest to Batman & co, of course, minus the halfa files (a small part of him wants to shove his condition in Bruce’s face and demand he kill the clown again even though he knows it’s a futile hope, but the rest - the same part that snapped and denied and refused to say he was a meta less that a day ago now - cannot stomach the thought of even more rejection. Of a Bruce that believes he’s a monster. Of a Bruce that mourns him even while he’s right there. Or at least, more than he already does.) - but while the files copy he take the time to look at Danny’s.

The image has two people, Danny Fenton on one side and a version of the kid in a black hazmat suit with white hair, tanned skin, and painfully familiar green eyes. And floating.

~~~

Human Name: Danny Fenton

Ghost Name: Danny Phantom

Species: Halfa (half-human, half ghost)

~~~

It’s the section after that that makes Jason’s breath catch in his throat.

~~~

Death: The Portal Accident

So like, there was no audio (thank GOD I do not want to hear myself screaming) so. Details: When the portal didn’t work when they plugged it in mom and dad left for fudge, Jazz went to try and talk them into a more realistic career choice than ghosts. Sam and Tucker came over and Sam dared me to climb in and check it out - it was broken anyway so no harm. Except it wasn’t broken, just that my parents put the on button inside. Which I caught myself on when I tripped on a wire.

Anyway, electrocution! 

(T - Danny for the love of god be more serious, the cheerful tone is creepy)

(D - Hey! I’m the one who died! Shouldn’t I at least get to write my own epitaph)

(S - …Danny this is not an epitaph. You don’t even HAVE a grave)

(D - wow way to rub it in Sam)

(T - yeah Sam)

(S - ugh! Whatever, just stop with the chatting in official files)

(T - “official”)

(S - Tucker.)

(T - shutting up now)

Electrocution! I got zapped to death, but the ectoplasm from the portal was also opening up on top of me and a lot got bonded to me I guess (S - probably because of the electricity with how you ended up with some of Vortex' powers for a little while) at the same time said electricity was reviving me? - probably getting my heart beating again or something, I was a little busy screaming to pay attention (T - yeah okay we're going to Nasty Burger after this. And playing Doomed) - not that it would’ve mattered without the ghostification preventing me from melting me all the way to death.

Status: Me!

Powers:

Chirps! (ghost echolocation of some kind! humans can't hear em - halfas can, of course, in either form)

Form Change (really Sam? This barely counts)

Human form

Ghost form (no need to breathe)

Flight (last clock speed 210mph) (T - and climbing. Dang dude)

Invisibility (S - don’t forget shareable.) (Shareable. sigh)

Intangibility (Shareable)

Ecto Rays (eyes & hands) (T - and butt) (D - dude! I’m deleting that. Tucker why can't I delete it. TUCKER) (T - bow down in awe of my ksill) (S - ksill) (D - ksill) (T - yeah okay it’s permanent now) (D - aw man!)

Ghost Sense (S - why do we never test your range?) (D - no need? They always make themselves obvious or are being sneaky specifically to annoy me so *shrug*) (S - I still think we should test it)

Power Absorption (that time with Vortex’s weather powers)

Cryokinesis (Wayyyyy to much ice. NOT testing max output on that) (T - yeah frozen city was enough, let’s not cause an ice age. Tech needs some cool but too much is still bad and I just upgraded Patricia)

Ghostly Wail (cone of destruction, very exhausting - always at max output. Not to be used)

GHOST FORM ONLY (but really just never)

Cartoon Body (D - what???) (S - Freakshow literally turned you into a puddle and you just turned back and were fine. I don’t know what else to call that) (D - okay fair. but:)

GHOST FORM ONLY

Physical Enhancement (better strength, speed, stamina, durability, reflexes, balance, etc much better than human) (T - why does this look like dnd knockoff stats haha)

GHOST FORM ONLY (S - obviously mr last place in PE)

Resistances (pretty solid on the overshadowing, avoided being taken in by Ember until targeted, didn’t get turned to stone during the Medusa thing) (S - which was pure luck! Be careful!)

Ecto Electricity (ghost stinger, but I really don’t think this counts Sam. I mean I just. Make my ecto zappy. But it’s still just ecto) (S - so is your ICE and you don’t just call that "just cold ecto") (D - fine, but it feels overly specific) (S - maybe writing it all down will make you stop. Forgetting. POWERS!) (D - come on Sam that was a lucky hit! I was distracted! And it turned out fine!) (S - Fenton…) (D - oop okay doing fire now)

Ecto Fire (made Dash’s shoes melty that one time by make the ecto hot) (T - really needs more testing)

Tech possession (chasing Technus into computers, not very tested)

Ghost form only, i guess?

Overshadowing (control people, copy their voice, invade dreams - the control one erases the person’s memory so they don’t know they were overshadowed just lost time. I hate Walker. SO much) (T - rip Danny’s reputation, you’ll be missed)

Probably ghost form only

Duplication (T - That’s optimistic) (D - I’M WORKING ON IT OKAY!?) (S - pretty sure it just falls under cartoon body until you can actually separate) (D - :( betrayal)

Probably ghost form only

More? (D - ugh I hope not) (T - hey don’t say that, maybe you’ll get a power to make the JL give a crap about Amity) (D - honestly I’m getting pretty close to letting Boxy loose in Gotham) (S - Danny, don’t stoop to their level!) (D - it's only box ghost!) (T - I mean he has a point)

~~~

Jason changes his mind, seeing the commentary, and deletes the entire hidden file from the computer as soon as his copy is made. He can go over everything and bring any important info to Bruce separately, the bat’s can just chew on the parents’ files for now.

Once the original files are thoroughly and irretrievably removed he pockets his shiny new USB, makes a second one with all the official files, and heads back up and out - carelessly brushing past a thoroughly irate Red Robin with a pair of firemen and broken jaws of life. And not a scratch on the door; impressive - just in time to get Oracle’s text that he’s got 2 hours and 16 minutes to be at the location on his HUD so he can “arrive” to Amity.

And a fresh set of civilian clothes will be waiting in the plane, Alfred as reliable as ever.

“Files,” he says, tossing the safe USB to Batman and interrupting his interrogation of the police officer.

He catches it effortlessly of course, but the officer stops paying attention to him to jolt at Hood’s reappearance - even outside of Gotham his reputation is fierce.

“I sent a copy to myself. I’ll review them and give you an overview, but other than that consider this the end of my involvement in this little shitshow,” he says, continuing smoothly to the door. “I’m heading back to Gotham.”

Now, he has a little over two hours before Jason Todd needs to arrive in Amity Park. He only needs to lay hands on a laptop that he can isolate from Babs’ influence and he should be able to review the Halfa files in full before he "lands" - after he figures out just why the kid has a grudge against the JL.

[dangoulains-devotion]

thinking just a bit too hard about how the added depth given to tifa and aerith's friendship only increases the weight threatening to crush tifa after the forgotten capital, she already had so much to carry on her weary shoulders, she's going to have to carry even more when mideel happens, and it doesn't even stop after meteorfall, ohg od oh i love her so much i

[russellius]

what's an appropriate way to say thank you to a coworker who brought you a sample of the cologne your blorbo is [most probably] using????????????

it's a super interesting scent btw!!! from the bottle it's very lemony, a lot of cypress, pine(?), and off the bat it almost smelled a bit like honey on my skin?? there is a lot going on in it, and at first it seemed sweet, but once it calms down, most of this early sweetness is gone (there is still a tiny bit that lingers though, which is really nice), and the bitter, fresh parts with the sea vibes take over. it's very elegant, clean, yet unique. there is a vibrant streak to it, but it smells old school, like a classic. after about an hour it got deeper on me, and more spice appeared, which was very lovely. it also has a very prominent layer of that usual masculine scent most male fragrances have, while still being airy, so it's not that in your face feeling, but the one that really draws you in instead. overall the mediterranean description is spot on. a massive W in my eyes

[m00sebaby]

just having a bit of a ramble dont mind me

[pupkou]

twitch is such a weird place

[vampirian]

for someone who has and has had basically zero experience when it comes to romance/sex i sure still get into the most sitcom situations bc of it anyway

[yanderenightmare]

TW: angst, toxic traits, somewhat bullying, breakup

fem reader

You’re his first girlfriend. He’d never bothered with anything serious before—it seemed too messy to trifle with. He doesn’t know why he suddenly decided. Suppose he’d been feeling a little bored, and something within him saw you as a fool-proof opportunity.

It wasn’t because you were anything special. Actually, it was more the opposite. You didn’t seem like too big of a risk. You were just a normal, honest, nice person—a bit of a loser, too, if he was being honest. He could do a lot better and pick someone of the same caliber as him, someone with a cooler style and presence, but then he’d only get caught up in the competition.

You were more to his appetite—a dorky, blushy lil’ nerd who giggled nervously at everything he said. In other words, no competition at all. You’d never dare break his heart because you frankly couldn’t afford it. And he found solace in that imbalance—knowing he held all the cards and that you could only be grateful he’d chosen you.

At least, that had been what he’d thought. But then, here you are, holding his hands from across the table in a cute little sundae café, telling him how this just can’t work anymore.

He’s confused for a whole minute before it sinks in.

You’re breaking up with him.

He’s confused afterward, too.

You’re breaking up with him?

That can’t be right. You must be joking. He almost laughs, almost cackles, but ends up staying completely silent. Something about that pitiful look in your eye makes his throat tight, and he almost thinks he’s going to cry instead. 

You’re breaking up with him. You, with him. His foot starts to tap. Have you hit your head or something? You’re dressed in a hoodie, for crying out loud, with not an ounce of make-up on—effortless, as if his perception of you wasn’t any of your concern while you’re fucking breaking up with him.

No way. There’s just no way. You must be confused about something, is all. There’s absolutely no way you’re doing this.

“What are you talking about?” It comes angry. Louder than he’d intended, enough to make you jolt in your seat. A couple of heads even turn your way. You wait for them to turn back before answering.

“I just think we’re a bit too different. And… I don’t know…” You were trying to find ways of telling him you weren’t in love with him but ended up deciding it was unnecessary—it wasn’t exactly something he needed to hear even though you had a lot you could say.

You’re rude and arrogant and treat me like some rescue pet you’ve nurtured back to health. You act like you’re embarrassed to be with me even though you’re the one without any friends. You’re selfish and spoiled and—

“If you don’t know, then there’s nothing to talk about. Quit being silly.” He has a furrow between his brows as he picks up the pink menu between the two of you, scanning the different types of milkshakes you could share and forget all about it. After all, you weren’t breaking up with him—that would just be absurd. “Let’s get strawberry.”

“No—”

“Guess we could get mango if you want that instead—”

“I’m not sharing drinks with you—”

“What? You tryna lose weight or something? Not like anyone but me is gonna see you when all you wear are those baggy hoodies all the time. Speaking of which, you should wear mine instead, they’d suit you better—”

“Listen.” You stop his rambling. “I’m not sharing drinks, and I’m not wearing your clothes. I’m not being silly, either. I’m being serious. It’s over—”

“No, it’s not.” His fist bangs against the table—the look in his eye on edge and twitchy. “I asked you why, and you had no good reason—so it’s not, not until you convince me.”

You had wanted to avoid it, but it seems he wouldn’t allow you the grace to spare him. That being said, you hadn’t meant to be so brutally honest…

“You’re a narcissist. You don’t treat me like a girlfriend. I’m more like a charity case or some type of experiment to you. Half the time, it feels as though you’re just playing a game with everyone in your life like pawns for you to shuffle around the board as you see fit.” You’re the one with the furrowed brows now, unable to bite your tongue as you’d kept it in all this time. “I think you should seek help and get your controlling tendencies straightened out before having any type of relationship. Or don’t. In any case, I don’t think I’m the right girl for you.”

There’s a silence. The chatter of the café seems distant. You feel half inclined to apologize as you look at him and stare down the glassy tabletop as if trying to find his reflection for comfort—but then he beats you to the punch.

“You’re right…” he starts softly, mustering the words, and you’re almost proud to see him take it so well, but then there’s a viscousness to his next words. “You’re not the right girl for me.”

When he looks up again, his face is warped—callous and seemingly disgusted by the sight of you. Something about it even seems to lash out at you, seeking revenge.

“I can’t believe I thought I saw something in you,” he sighs. “Turns out you’re exactly what everyone warned me you would be—just a plane-boring old Jane. What a joke—wasting so much time on something so worthless. Forget breaking up with me, I should have broken up with you a long time ago.”

He gets up in a rush and bears over the table, both palms laid flat upon the surface.

“Charity case?” he seethes, then conjures a fake laugh and an even faker grin. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Enjoy sitting here alone like the loser you are.”

And even though you’re the one watching him walk away while ordering a chocolate sundae for yourself, you can’t help but feel sorry for the poor guy… 

That had been the most emotion you’d ever witnessed come from him.

Obviously, he doesn’t take it very well, stumbling through the café before bursting out the door, but even he’s surprised by how disheveled it had made him. He’s hyperventilating when the fresh air hits him, almost sprinting to his car so that he can lock himself inside it.

But the car only makes it worse as he’s far from alone in there. You’re everywhere. On the hood, waiting for him with a smile. In the rearview mirror, waving at him. In the seat next to him with a pout, asking if you can stay over. In the backseat, naked with a coy twinkle in your eye.

He knows! He has some of your underwear at home—he’ll threaten to pass them around campus unless you beg him to take you back. No, what’s he thinking!? You’ll never come back to him that way. Fuck, what can he do, what’s he supposed to do!? He just called you worthless—what that fuck was he thinking?!

The tears startle him as they drip down and splash upon his whitening knuckles, where he grips the wheel for dear life even as the car stays completely still—safe and sound in the same plot.

There’s a light pink lip balm on the dash. Yours. You must have left it there—maybe on purpose? No… you don’t play games like that. You’d been honest in the café. The fact terrifies him—his heart seems to want to reject it at all costs, the way it tears in his chest.

He picks the slim pink stick up and rolls it around in his hand, which can’t seem to stop shaking. You’d sat on his lap in this very seat, laughing at something dumb he’d said while applying the very same balm on his lip—kissing his forehead while saying something sweet. He knows it wasn’t, but he imagines you’d whispered that you loved him.

When he smears the balm around his lips this time, he imagines kissing you and your soft lips and that everpresent smile he never bothered telling you was pretty.

He’s such an idiot. The birds in the parking lot take flight at the jostling of his car, but no one hears the roar.

And as he sits there in the following silence, wallowing in his own self-pity and regret, he can’t help but feel like the lead of some angsty teen romance.

And like the lead in an angsty teen romance, he swears… whatever it takes… he will win you back.

You will be his again.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Gojo, Naoya, some young type of Sukuna, or Toji ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Reo ♡ AOT – Eren

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[romanticintheory]

Hello!!!! I was wondering if you could write an angst with Ghost/Simon where the reader was too clingy after having a bad day and he lashed out on her but he didn't think anything of it because the next day the reader was acting normal. He only noticed after a few weeks when reader became more distant and quiet. Feel free to ignore if it's too weird or you don't like it!!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

this one is dedicated to all the ones who were hurt and never got that apology. hope this alleviates the pain.

simon "ghost" riley x gn!reader || masterlist || request rules

-there was no one specific reason as to why today turned out to be a bad day. it just was.

-from accidentally burning yourself trying to make breakfast after waking up late to having to deal with the most insufferable customers, it just wasn't your day today.

-but it was okay, because you had simon to return to when everything was said and done.

-the frown on your face immediately softens the moment you see him walk through the door to your shared home. as soon as he pulls his mask and boots off, you make your way toward him and engulf him in a tight hug.

-you are painfully (but understandably) unaware of the thin veil of his patience and the frustration that had been brewing within him in the past few hours. he half-heartedly returns the embrace.

-"how was your day, si?" you ask him gently.

-"fine," he responds shortly, hoping there isn't more to the conversation.

-even after you pull away from him, you trail behind him as he moves around the house. this wasn't irregular behavior from either of you. simon wasn't usually the most talkative person in the room, anyway, but he loved to hear your voice. that was one of the things he loved about the two of you together; you filled the space he couldn't.

-today, though, was different. he was pissed off at all different kinds of people. for some reason, couldn't bring himself to tell you that he was having a bad day and needed some space, especially because it was evident you were having a bad one yourself.

-so when he turned on his heel after listening to your rambles for as much as he could take and lashed out at you, he tried not to think about the unbearable amount of guilt seeping into his veins.

-"would you just stop clinging to me for five minutes? god, 's like i can't get away from you or your constant fucking talking!"

-you had heard stories, mostly from simon, about the kind of man he could be when pushed to his limit. mostly, it was of violent, physical acts when it came to work or protecting the ones he loved. other times, he would tell you about when he'd lash out at others just like he did to you, now, and he always told it to you with a quiet fear. there was an unspoken meaning to him telling you about the times he's acted out: i don't want to do the same to you. i don't want to hurt you.

-but here he was, towering over you with a coldness in his eyes and a dryness in his throat from the sheer volume of his words.

-averting your gaze from his, you let out a meek, "'m sorry," and watch as he slams the door in front of your face.

-when he slinks into bed next to your sleeping form later that night, ridden with shame and guilt, he misses the tear-stained face hidden from him. after his outburst, you felt like all of the energy in your body had been taken away from you and retreated to bed early. you cried on and off for hours.

-you always thought you had a clinging problem. it was an insecurity you carried with you starting from childhood. friends would become acquaintances and family would keep you at arms-length. after years of believing the issue was you, simon walked into your life and told you different.

-if you stopped talking because you thought he stopped listening and was uninterested, he'd always turn back to you and genuinely ask why you stopped talking. whenever you apologized for hugging him for too long or asking to spend time with him for the third time that week, he'd always tilt his head at you and say in that low, sincere voice, "but i love you?"

-for all those reasons, you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt despite how much he hurt you. so, when he tries to bring it up the next morning, you do your best to brush it off. he was having a bad day. that was all. no need to make a fuss.

-"listen, love," he calls to you as you pop your piece of toast out of the toaster. "about last night-"

-completely disregarding his words, you look at the clock and stuff your phone into your pocket. "it's fine. honestly, simon," you tell him with the best smile you could muster. "i'm gonna be late. i'll see you tonight."

-you were so adamant on getting out as quick as possible that simon had no time to respond. he thought to himself that maybe he was making a bigger deal out of it than you. maybe there were no hard feelings and you were completely fine. after all, he was always overly worried for you, anyway.

-so, when you came home, he didn't mention it. it was as if last night didn't happen, and the two of you were perfectly fine. there were times where simon thought you were being a bit more restrained in your movements or words, but he tried to chalk it up to just him being overly paranoid. you said it was fine, so it was better not to push you on it, right?

-at first, you were doing really good at keeping yourself from overthinking the situation. however, as time went on and you paid more attention to how you acted around your boyfriend, you began to wonder if you were really that clingy.

-as the week progressed, your state of mind would deteriorate. what if it wasn't just a bad day? what if that was what he thought the entire time and was just waiting for the right moment to tell you? had he just been trying to cheer you up about your insecurities the entire time? and if he was, how much of this relationship was even real, then?

-the more you thought about it, the more distant you became. the last thing you wanted to do was make simon feel like he was being suffocated by you. you slowly stopped initiating physical affection with him, restricted talking about your day to a few sentences, and tried to answer simon's questions in one word when possible.

-he notices. of course he notices, it was like a stranger was living where you were supposed to be, and he missed it. he missed you.

-he asks you about your change when you're getting ready for bed, pulling the rest of your nightshirt over your head. despite being exhausted from work and looking like you were sitting out in the wind, he thought you never looked more ethereal than you did now.

-"(y/n)," he said.

-"hm?" you hummed to him, not turning toward his direction. you sat down on the edge of your side of the bed, turning off the lamp at the same time.

-your lack of emotional presence was starting to eat at him. he sat down next to you, the mattress dipping beneath his weight and forcing you to lean toward him.

-"you alright?"

-"yes. why?"

-"i dunno, you just seem..." his eyes tried to find yours, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze. "quiet."

-it was then that you looked at him, and it was scary to simon because he couldn't make out the emotion in your expression. there was nothing he could read.

-"isn't that-" you had to pause to try and stabilize your wavering voice. "isn't that what you wanted?"

-there was a tension-filled silence that settled in the room, and for a second you were worried that what you said was somehow incredibly offensive.

-finally, he chokes out, "i'm sorry."

-again, you try to muster up a smile. "it's fine, i already told you. i should've known you wanted space."

-"no."

-"no?"

-"it was my fault," he explains. "how could you 'ave known? i didn't tell you i wasn't in the mood that day, and that's not even considering the way i talked to you. i shouldn't have- nothing excuses what i said to you."

-still, you were convinced you were to blame. "well, i have a history of being clingy, so," you were trying to come up with more excuses for him. for most of your life, you had decided that you were the issue. it couldn't be any other way, right?

-"i know. it's one of the things i love you for," he says quietly. "not to sound cheesy but it's what makes you you, and i don't want you to lose that jus' 'cause i'm still shitty at communication."

-you knew in some capacity he was right. there was no excuse for how he talked to you, but the next words you wanted to say evaded you.

-simon thought about talking some more. instead, he grasped your back with one hand and slid his other underneath your legs, repositioning you on his lap. it was like a silent plea from him, a way of proving that he wanted to be close to you just as much as you wanted to be close to him.

-"you're sure i'm not too clingy?" you ask tentatively.

-"positive," he reassures you, rubbing small circles on your back with his thumb. "you wanna know something?"

-"what?"

-"if i wasn't so fucked up-"

-"you're not fucked up."

-"right." you never let him talk badly about himself. that was something he was still getting used to after all this time. being loved and learning to love himself. "well, if i didn't grow up the way i did and became the person i am, i'd probably be way clingier than you."

-"that's impossible," you deny, unconsciously letting yourself lean into his touch.

-"you don't know how much i want you. if my mind and body would let me, i'd be close to you all the time, showing you the attention you deserve."

-"you give me plenty."

-"agree to disagree," he stops with the circles and pulls you impossibly closer to his body. "but 'm trying. 'm trying to learn to let you love me and to not be afraid to love you. 'm sorry, love. i stopped trying that night, and i think it'll be the death of me."

-you let his words sink in, a thoughtful look on your face.

-"next time you'll tell me, right? what you're thinking?"

-"pinkie promise," he agrees, letting the hand under your legs slide out and raise his pinkie finger toward you.

-in return, you link your pinkie with his to seal the promise, and it feels as though the heavy tension in the air has cleared away.

-"i love you," he says, feeling bold from his previous admission.

-"i love you, too." there's that smile on your face. he never realized until now how he probably couldn't live without it.

-he kisses you on the lips, and for a moment the two of you just stay there in each other's arms, forgiving the past, healing the present, and dreaming of the future together.

[adelliet]

Wolverine x f!reader

MIND READER

Summary: Your parents sent you to your older sister Jean Grey to spend more time with her. However, you had no idea that one of her colleagues would also want to get to know you, but in a much deeper way.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, strong language, age gap, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), little bit of choking, unprotected sex (p i v), loss of virginity, cum play, aftercare, kinda fluff

“C'mon sis, don't look so grumpy” Jean said to you as you make your way to the X-men Mansion. You sigh and roll your eyes with arms firmly tangled on your chest.

“It's gonna be fun…my friend's are nice” she keep tried to ease the situation, that you're going to stay in this school for gifted for a week. It was your divorced parents stupid command, to get closer to your sister. You would rather eat a moldy banana with mayonnaise, but unfortunately, you had no other choice. Not even the banana.

When you walk in, your eyes widened as you saw the enormous place from the inside. From the outside, it looked really boring and old, so you were pretty surprised that it looked really fancy. “You're living in this?” you asked Jean and she nodded with a giggle afterwards. “Trust me, this is just the beginning” she said and you follow her through the halls.

You tried to avoid all the students passing by and you immidiately understood why it's called school for gifted. All of them were mutants. You didn't have to read everyone's minds to realize that, some of them were clearly obvious, because of their unusual physical form. Some of them looked pretty normal, but they were giving you a weird energy, not the typical one from a normal human.

“So, act nice and don't be mean 'kay?” Jean stopped at the last door on the end of the hall. You nodded annoyingly and put a fake smile, as soon as she opens the door and walked in. “Hey guys!” you peeked behind Jean and quickly scan all of the people that were in the room.

“So as I promised, I'm here to introduce my little siser!” She stepped aside to reveal you, making you anxious at all the eyes being glued to your face. You waved at them and suck your lips into a thin akward line. “So that's her!” a pretty tall man with a weird glasses on his eyes walked towards you, his hand in front of you. You claim his head and shake it, reading his mind without permission. *She's really just like her sister, beautiful* you made a disgusted face, trying to keep smilling.

“Hey, I'm Jean's boyfriend-“ “Scott Summers” you cut him off and finishing his sentence, leaving him speechless. Suddenly, you felt a painful ringing in your ears that Jean gave you as a warning. You promised her you wouldn't read these people's minds, but you can't help it, it's your natural instinct.

“How did you-“ “Don't worry about that” you cut him off, again, and quickly put a convincing smile. The next person who shake your hand was a blonde pretty girl, that looked really sweet. However, when you tried to read her mind, there was no thoughts about you, but about herself. She wasn't happy with herself, with her powers. You started feeling bad for her.

“Mystique” she smilled, even tho you knew it was fake. You wish you could help her, but this wasn't the best time and place to do that. Maybe another time. “Hey kid” a blue furry beast was approaching you and you startled by his deep voice and visage. “H-hey” you carefully grabbed his hand, which looked like a lego peace in his palm. “Hank McCoy” he had a white labotary cloak, which you inferred he was probably a scientist.

There were three other people in the room, Storm was radiating the sweetest energy. She was even worried about hurting you, when you were shaking her hand. One of the two men was a gentleman sitting in a wheelchair, who clearly informed you via telekinesis, that he could also read minds. His name was Charles Xavier, apparently he is the founder of all this. And the last but not least guy was looking pretty hot, like really fucking hot.

You felt goosebombs jumping all over your body when he walks towards you. His mischievous grin hits you right into your core, which started unexpectedly pulsating. “Hey kiddo” his deep voice tickled your ears and when you grab his enormous hand, your jaw dropped. Again, you read his mind without authorization. There was imagination of you, naked and being fucked by this man right in this room.

You flinched and released his grip. Your shocked face made that man scoff, before he leaned closer to your face. "Logan, nice to meet ya" he whispered before backing up onto his place, where he was originally standing. You were frozen, your mind was keep replaying that image of his, bended over a table that Charles was sitting behind.

You weren't even woken up by Jean's coughing, which was a clear indication that you should move. When that didn't happen, your sister decided to step in. “Alright! We should probably head away now...right sis?" Jean laugh and shake your body, when she grabbed your shoulder. You nodded, still speechless from Logan's thoughts.

"Bye! See ya later guys!" your sister led you out of the room and the moment the doors close, she tightly grabbed your arms and lower herself to your level. “Hey what's wrong with you?" you felt better now, so you finally answered her properly. "I'm fine" Jean was still firmly holding you, raising her eyebrow suspiciously. "You sure?" you nodded and gave her a fake smile, that convinced her.

Of course, she could read your mind and find out what's really going on in there, but both of you promised each other to not read each other's minds. You've honestly followed this rule since you were little, so why break it now?

“Okay, let me show you this place and then I'll help you unpack your things hm?” you nodded, not that you really have a choice, and walk beside her. However, the thought of Logan still hasn't left you. His soft hair shaped into ears of a beast, his sideburns that beautifully accentuated his face and his coffee coded eyes. God, his eyes were the second thing that stuck in your mind, after that deviant thought about you.

You were folding your clothes and putting them in the wardrobe right opposite your bed. Jean was helping you, using her mind to speed up the job. Few hours passed since you met Jean's colleagues and you still haven't stopped thinking about Logan. You didn't want to mention him in front of your sister, but your curiosity and desire got the better of you.

“So…um what exactly are Logan's powers?” There was pretty quiet silence, before Jean answered. “He has animal-keen senses, which includes healing factor and adamantium skeleton” you hummed and pursed your lips while nodding. Yoi were thinking for a second before asking again.

“So he's immortal?” “More or less... rather delayed aging, but we could easily kill him with our minds” Jean smilled while putting your shirt in the wardrobe. “Why'd you ask?” “Just curious…” surely you weren't just curious, but on the other hand you wanted to know what makes him so speacial to be on the same level as Jean. Seems like having a fury powers pays off.

“And how old is he?” your question caught your sister off guard and when the pieces fell into place, she dramatically gasp. “Do you have a crush on him?!” Fuck. Your eyes widened and you gave her a double look. “No! No I don't-“ “Look at me” Jean knows whenever you lie without using her powers, you always avoid eye contact and play with your fingers. Unfortunately, you did avoid eye contact and played with your fingers.

“I don't I just-“ “Look, I'll be honest with you, Logan is not a good guy,” you finally look into her eyes, when her voice changed into serious one. “He was hitting on me, even tho he knew damn well I was with Scott!” she threw her hands in the air, looking really frustrated while you just innocently stared at her and listen. “He's the type of guy that will use you, before he throws you away like a piece of trash” you incredulously raised your eyebrows. You tried your best to believe, that Jean was lying, but her face was dead serious.

“Really?” You squeal quietly with a disappointment in your soft voice. “Yes…” Jean sigh and came closer to you, when she notice how much that information hurt you. "I want the best for you sis and that's definitely not Logan" she grabbed your arms. "There are plenty of other handsome boys your age, who deserve you a hundred times more than he does" you nodded, even though you were refusing to trust her words. You didn't care about other boys, you cared about Logan.

"I understand, Logan's charm is irreplaceable" Jean acknowledged, making you smirk and nod in agreement. "But still…just don't fall for him 'kay?” you silently nodded, knowing that you already fell for him. You were aware that your sister was just trying to protect you and all that, because it's her responsinility, howerer, emotions cannot be controlled, neither can desire.

It was late at night, the moon was already glowing through the blinds of your room, which was lit just by a small night lamp. Your eyes were glued to small letters of your favorite book. You read word by word, line by line and paragraph by paragraph, until you turned the pages one by one. Time passed but your appetite for sleep was nowhere to be found.

You've no idea what time is it, but thanks to stars in the sky, which gave more light into your room, you deduced that it was pretty late. You naively thought that reading a book would make you tired, but that didn't happen. You didn't feel the slightest hint of tiredness as your mind was filled with thoughts of the man you were forbidden from your sister.

Every nerve in your body, every muscle wanted and still wants to feel Logan's hand like the first time, to hug him, to smell his scent, to feel him. You've probably never been so miserable like that for a man before. It's strange how much emotions can control you.

Since reading didn't help you fall asleep and you needed some sleep, there was only one possible way how to get tired. Coffee. For all the people you know, coffee gives them a boost of energy and wakes them up, but for you, it has the exact opposite effect. A good coffee with milk makes you tired, therefore you are always 100% sure that you'll fall asleep like a baby after it.

Since it was late at night, you didn't want to bother Jean to tell you the way to the common kitchen, so you quietly tiptoeed around the halls by yourself. It took you a while but your sense of direction did not fail you.

You peeked around the corner and besides a beautifully clean and cozy kitchen, you also saw Logan standing there with a beer bottle in his hand. At first, you thought you were just dreaming and already fell asleep, but it felt too real to be just a dream.

“Hey sweetheart” Logan greeted you when you caught his eye. "Hey" a quiet squeak left your lips, as were trying to find a capsule for coffee machine. “Lookin' for somethin'?” “Y-yeah a capsule…” Logan walked closer to you, leaving you breathless as the distance between you was almost immeasurable. He grinned, before his hand opens a cabin above you and handed you a capsule.

You weren't even able to say thank you when he stepped away from you. He insidiously left you full of anticipation just so he left you and don't do anything. You started to get to know his character, he likes to play with people and that's what makes him dangerous, but also so terribly charming.

You turned around and clicked the capsule into the coffee machine. You awkwardly waited for the coffee to be made, as the annoying noise echoed throughout the kitchen. You subtly glanced to the side and immediately dodged, when you noticed Logan watching you.

"Is there any reason you're getting a coffee at this hour?" he stepped forward, but leaving a fair space between. "I can't sleep" you chuckle as you realize how stupid it sounds. "And coffee helps?" you nodded and turned your head over to him. "No argument against taste" he takes a sip from his bottle, signing that his sleeping aid is beer.

You smiled before a soft exhale escaped your lips. You stared at each other and you couldn't help but read his mind. It was a view from third person. You and him in this kitchen just like now, except that you were sitting on the counter while Logan was hungrily kissing you and exploring your whole body with his hands. Your heartbeat raise and you almost melt at the image, when suddenly you went back to reality as a beeb sound from the coffee machine rang in your ears.

You subtly cleared your throat and poured coffee into the mug. But before you could turn around to get a milk from fridge, Logan overtook you. Without a blink of an eye, he was behind you and holding a cartoon milk box. "Need this?" he was standing so incredibly close, his breath was brushing your cold ears. You inhale shakily and nodded.

"Tell me when to stop" he whispered, pouring the milk into the mug already half filled with coffee. You started feeling your core pulsating, but as if that wasn't enough, his free hand touched your weist. You gasp, breath caught in your throat as his grip on your hip tightens. "Tell me when to stop" he repeated himself, his lips now touching your ear, the milk still pouring and his hand on your body slowly moved downwards.

You realize that his sentence had two meanings and wasn't just about milk. When the milk almost overflowed from the mug, he put it on the counter and finally had the opportunity to give you all his attention. Both of his hands were on you, one was going down, second up. You knew this was wrong, that you should've already stop him, but you couldn't. You wanted this, you needed this, you longed for this.

You could sense from his touch that he's being really careful and gentle, which is hardly against his nature. But he would do the sacrifice for you. One of his hand was already up your neck, hugged it lightly, so that he had you under control, while the other was getting dangerously close to your private part. Your eyes were keeping flickering, trying so hard to keep your vision clear but Logan's fingertips were leaving you breathless.

"Do you want it?" he groans, his low voice makes your pulsating faster. You nodded harshly, wanted to say something but all you could manage to do was just a quiet tiny moan. That was enough for Logan. His hand slides under your pajama shorts. He chuckle and moved his head even closer to yours, when he realized you're not wearing any panties. “Coincidence?”

Like everyone, you don't wear any underwear underneath your pajamas, because it's way more comfortable. However, you certainly didn't plan on deliberately not wearing panties, if something like this happened. However, Logan believed the version in his head, that you predicted the future and decided to not wear panties on purpose. Either way, the conclusion is the same, Logan has better access to your core.

You close your eyes and exhale softly, when you felt his cold fingers against your wet folds. "So wet, just because of me?" his rhetorical questions was turning you on even more. His dominance knew no bounds and so did his fingers, that were gently rubbing your labia. You bite your lips when he puts more pressure into his movements, trying not to look like a needy slut, even tho you were.

Everything around you started fading away, the only thing you could focus on was Logan and his fingers on your pussy. You could feel his growing dick trapped in his pants, poking your ass. Your instincts made you move your hips towards his fingers, rhythmically and without realizing provoking his dick. His breath started being cut off more frequently, you tortured him. You desperately wished you could read his mind right now, but you were too overhelmed to do so.

You lost yourself when he slowly insert his finger inside, finally making you whimper and throwing your head back, so you were leaning againts Logan's shoulder. “Oh you like that don't you?” He grinned, watching your scrunched face as he felt your throbbing arousal. His hips lightly rubbed against your ass, trying to feel some friction too.

You started seeing stars even so your eyes were tightly closed. Logan's handy finger was curling inside you, reaching that good spot you could never reach yourself. Wet juicy sound wafted through the kitchen and for a moment, you forgot where you are or what your name is.

“Good girl” he complimented you as he subtly slipped a second finger in. Stretching your walls while holding your neck tightly, showing who's in control, even though it was clear from the beginning. You were enjoying it so much, you had never felt such pleasure before. You move on your tiptoes as you felt the heat, spreading from your crotch to your whole body.

Logan's curling inside you picked up the pace, his hot breaths turned into chuckling, as he felt your clenching around him. "Come on baby" he supported you giving you a last straw. You left a load moan and cum on Logans fingers, before you relaxed and came back from your high. Your chest was moving rapidly, as you tried to catch your breath. Logan laughed and pulled his fingers out of you which he tasted and grunted. He didn't need to say anything to prove how delicious you are.

He released your neck and leaned his elbow on the counter, watching your red face. "You've never been touched before, have you?" he smirk, but before you could answer you heard a familiar coughing. You turn around and saw Jean, leaning against the doorframe. "What're you two doing here?" her arms were crossed and eyebrows furrowed. You had no idea how long she's been standing there, but you hoped not too long.

"Just talkin'" Logan saved your ass and wanted to leave the kitchen, but Jean grabbed his wrist and looked him deadly in his eyes. "Let me talk to you for a sec" she dragged him into the corridor without leaving him a choice. Jean pathetically thought she tricked you into not hearing their conversation, but she still doesn't realize how strong your telepathic powers are.

*Stay away from her* your sister angrily whispered to Logan, making you feel embarrassed, like you couldn't stand for yourself alone. *If you hurt her, I'll kill you* *Jesus calm down woman! Why should I hurt her?* You were deciding whether to leave or stay, but the second option seems better. You sip from your coffee as you were listening to Jean's confrontation. You couldn't help but think back to Logan's hand placement and even though it was just a few minutes ago, you missed it.

*If I ever see you with her again I-* *Don't worry, you won't, trust me* after that, you heard footsteps walking away. You quickly straightened up and peeked who walked first. When Logan made a quick eye contact with you, you got anxious. What if Jean really intimidated Logan and he meant all his words? But all these negative thoughts fell aside when he winked at you, before leaving your sight. You smiled and giggle under your nose, as you took another sip from your coffee.

"Fuck me sis" Jean breathed out, feeling exhausted like she just ran a marathon, even that it was just a stupid argument with Logan. You raised your eyebrows, your smile not leaving your face. "Somethin' wron-" "Are you serious?" you provoked Jean by pissing her off even more than she already was. "I told you to stay away from him" "Hmm no, you said not to fall for him and that he's a bad guy" you corrected her, keep smiling. She gave you a real nasty look that you've seen just couple of times. Now you knew you are fucked.

"Fine, I'm saying it now. Stay away from him, okay?" you wanted to pull up the fact that you are an adult so that she has nothing to command you, but you didn't want to piss her off even more. She already looked quite tired and it must've been pretty late. That's why you decided to be a good girl and submissively agree to her order. "Great...now go to sleep" satisfied with your answer, she exhaled and gave you another order to fulfill.

"Night sis" you walked past her, devilishly smiling while holding your cup of coffee with both hands. You knew that Jean was losing her temper with you, but you enjoyed it. On the way to your room, you could already feel the fatigue falling on you. But you still thought that if you didn't go get coffee, Logan's fingering would be plenty enough for a sweet sleep.

The next day went smoothly. You started smilling more, stopped being grumpy and helped with cleaning the school. All that happily surprised your sister, but she didn't complain at all. Your work was helpful. You mopped the floors, swept the dust and sorted the textbooks in a library. However, under normal circumstances, you wouldn't do these chores at all. Logan was your only and sufficient motivation.

Since the moment you woke up, you couldn't stop thinking about him. About his husky breath tickling your ear, his hand tightly holding your neck, his soft fingers curling inside you, poking your walls until you came. You couldn't stop thinking about him. Your highest record of the day was one minute, when there was uncleanable dirt on the floor and you had to go on all fours and scrub it with great force.

Your heartbeat raises whenever you met Logan in the hall, who gave you a slight smile and wink, creating a waterfall between your legs. The enthusiasm was so strong that you really volunteered to clean everything you could, even with joy. Logan brainwashed you so much without hypnotizing you in any way, he's really dangerous.

The whole day went by pretty quickly and before you blinked twice, it was dark outside again and the moonlight glittered nicely in the reflection of the flying dust. In addition to the high praise and involuntary hug from Jean, you also received recognition from Charles, which is said to be rare or something. Of course you appreciated that, but you didn't do it just for some praise. Your main intention was to meet Logan whenever and wherever you could. You were quite limited, since that order from Jean yesterday, but you always managed to throw a flirtatious smile at each other.

Just as yesterday, you were laying in your bed, reading your favorite book, which you've already read like five times. Even so, you get goosebombs all over your body, whenever you're done reading it. But today was a little different. You were already quite tired. After all, you were like a maid all day and you deserve a long rest, but your body needed something else. You need to feel Logan, at least see him, somehow interact with him. It felt like he was a part of you, of your body and without him, you wouldn't survive a day.

It was pretty late, when you checked the clock it shows an hour after midnight. All the students, including the teachers, are definitely asleep, except for you. Your sexual scenarios about Logan in your head couldn't leave you and your desire grows every second you think about him. If you could, you would have searched his room already, but the fear of Jean catching you again was bigger and kept nudging you in the back of your mind. What if she caught you durring the act? She would definitely send you back home and you can't risk that.

That's why you sigh with disappointment and decided to turn off the lamp and go to sleep, when suddenly your heard a soft knock on the door. You froze, deciding whether to go open the door or just shout from your bed. The first choice seems calmer and quieter. "Hey" you froze when you saw Logan standing in front of you. For a moment there you though his hidden power is mind reading too.

“H-hey” nervously with incomprehension in your voice you widened your eyes, that were filled with expectation. "I hope I didn't wake you up" he gave you puppy eyes that made your heart melt. Yesterday you didn't even have time to take a good look at his majestic face, which you saw properly when you met him for the first time.

"N-no I couldn't sleep anyway" you cough akwardly, your face still surprised from that shock. "Okay and um sorry to bother it's just…I ran out of toothpaste and I was wondering if I could borrow yours?" he shows you his toothbrush and empty toothpaste, looking at you through his thick eyebrows. You look down at the toothbrush, then back up into his chocolate coffee eyes, where you got lost for a moment.

“Yeah, sure come on in” you stepped aside and opened the door wider, leaving space for Logan to walk in. “Thanks, you're a life saver” you chuckle and close the door behind him. Adrenaline was starting to run through your blood at the thought of being alone with Logan in your room this late at night. If Logan could finger you in the kitchen last night, what can he do in your room now?

"Bathroom is?" "Oh right there" you pointed at the door right next to the massive wardrobe. He nodded and smiled, before disappearing in that room. You sat down on your bed, right in front of the bathroom door, staring at them, your mind filled with millions of scenarios about Logan. Was that a sign that he appeared in your room just now? Or did he do it on purpose? Or was that a fate? Those, maybe pathetic questions, filled your head together with the imaginations and your mind was a total mess by now.

You were so busy with your thoughts that you didn't realize how fast time was flying and suddenly, Logan emerged from the bathroom. You quickly shake your head and smiled at him. “Thank you” he smiled back and walk slowly towards you. Your smile fade away and your face turned into craving one. "But there's something else I need" he licked his lips, his eyes flicked from your bottom to your eyes. You knew what he was implying and you shivered with anticipation. "W-what is it?" you harshly asked, your heart beating really fast, in a moment you though it would even burst out of your chest.

“You know damn well princess” he put a strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek. "Read my mind" he commanded and didn't need to tell you twice to do that. You saw an image of you and Logan, in the exact same place as you are right one, just with one difference. You were sucking his dick. Your eyes widened when you went back to reality, looking deep into Logans eyes, which were black, full of lust.

"Can you do that for me darlin'?" he rubbed your cheek as you were leaning into his touch. The warm from his palm spread all over your face. A flame of fire began to form between your legs, making your core pulsating and clenching around nothing. When you pit yourself together, you nodded and grab the waistband od Logan's pants. He watched your every move, his erection already twitching with impatience.

"That's right..." he whispered, caressing your cheek and hissed, as his pants fell on the floor and the cool air touched his dick. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him in his full beauty. You've never seen this in real life, moreover, so close and so huge. The thought of him being inside your mouth or inside you excited you, but also scared you at the same time. You licked your lips as your mouth filled with saliva.

"Come on, open your mouth" Logan slides his massive hand into your hair, scratching and massaging your head. You swallowed loudly before opening your mouth and approached his tip. “Grab it” he quickly ordered before your lips even touched him. Your eyes met his, as you wrap your hand around his base, making him breathe out loudly. "That's it, now your mouth" he gently, with a little bit of strength, pushed your head closer to his penis, till his pink tip was fully covered with your wet lips.

He kept pushing you forward, hissing. "Yeah baby...that's it" you were already halfway through, his tip touching your throat already. "Now your hand" you instantly understood his short sentences. You slowly began to stroke him off, but your mouth was stiff. Logan helped you, pushing your head back and forth. Your eyes were glued on his, as you were watching him licking his lips and quietly whimpering. “Mhm good girl”

Your eyes started filling with tears as the pace of your sucking and the strength of your hand quickened. Logan was slowly losing his senses as he tried really hard to reach his climax. His hips thrusting inside your mouth, slowly at first, but gradually speeding up. Your innocent face from tears, while you had his dick in your mouth, was driving him crazy.

"Yes...yes" he clenched his teeth, the wolf look on his face makes your panties soaked. "Ohh yeah" he threw his head back, your hot mouth felt like the best pussy he ever had. He couldn't last long, few more moves of your head makes him curl his toes and dropped his jaw. "Fuck!" that was his final moan, before he emptied his balls inside you, pushing your head so far, that your nose bumped into his lower stomach.

His heavy breathing was the only thing that could be heard in the room. He gave you a soft grin, gently wiping your tears from your blushed face. "You're so beautiful" Logan grunted, making you chuckle as you lick the remains of his cum from your lips. "But I'm not done with you" he got on his knees and gave you a lustful smirk. Before you could manage to recover from previous activity, Logan held your thighs tightly, spreading them far enough to make your pussy peek through the soft fabric of your pajama shorts.

“God..." he huffed as he saw your wetness already leaking on the sheets. "You are the muse of all my wet dreams" he groans as his face was dangerously fast approaching your core. "From the moment I saw you," his hands slides under your shorts. "I wondered how you taste" without a second thought, he tore off your shorts and tossed them aside. You gasped, adrenaline racing through your body.

Logan gave you one last devilish grin, before burying his face into your pussy. You immediately throw your head back and grab his silky hair, as you bit your lips tightly. His tongue was briskly without mercy moving around your labia, sometimes gently slipped in, but he always doubted only on the surface. You tried your best to keep your moans and whimpers in quiet, but it was impossible.

"Logan" you rolled your eyes as his nose poked your sensitive clitoris, pushing you further to the edge. Your hands tugging his kitty hair, whenever he find that good spot. However, this was all just a foreplay, as the real fun began when he finally slid his tongue inside you.

Your jaw fell open and you put your head back in place as you watched Logan's face. His sideburns brushing and tickling your skin, leaving red marks. His eyes met yours, they were so dark that you could see your reflection in them. You loose it all when he smiled at you, his teeth brushing against your core. He held firmly your thighs, as your natural instinct made you move your hips to the rhythm of Logan's tongue.

His groans send pleasurable waves into your lower stomach, sending you even closer to your orgasm. His clever tongue was stretching your walls, tasting your juice and sucking your skin as much as he could. He sense that you were close, not only because of your uncontrollable moaning of his name and not only because his animal instincts sensed it, but mainly because of your clenching around his wet hot tongue.

You tried to ride on his face, to finally reach what you desired all day and what you deserve, but Logan was too malicious to indulge it to you that easily. He removed his tongue from you just a second before you'd finally release. You let out a disappointed breath, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion as you look at Logan.

"Not so easy princess" he climb on top of you, making you fall on the bed submissively. "I wanna feel you" he kissed you hungrily, not wasting any time and pushing his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste yourself. You immediately started cooperating, not only with your mouth but also with your hands, which you wrap around Logan's neck.

His hands were traveling through your whole body, trying to memorize every inch of you just by a touch. Soft moans left your mouth matching with Logan's impatient growls. You were relaxed until you felt something poking in your inner thigh.

Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets, when you came back to your senses. You stopped kissing him and pushed him away a little. "What?" he whispered, his eyes full of lust but his eyebrows were furrowed, confused. You hesitate for a moment, whether to tell him or not, but every time you felt his tip against your private area, you heart skipped a beat and the stress level were rising incredibly fast.

"I am um...virgin" a really quiet, almost silent whisper left your lips and your cheeks started turning red. The embarrassment and shyness raced through your blood, as you waited for Logan's reaction. He chuckled, showing his bright white teeth. "I know" you gave him a confused expression. Your mind started wondering who told him that and started suspecting Jean. "I don't need to read minds to figure that out"

Before you could recover from Logan's words, his lips were on yours again. You were relieved that he took the information in stride and you weren't so nervous anymore. It wasn't long before his hands were under your t-shirt which was gone in the blink of an eye. Likewise, Logan's shirt also ended up somewhere on the floor and your naked bodies were firmly attached to each other.

Your heart was beating, your veins were pulsing and your core was already clenching around nothing, yet. After a long make out session, Logan pulled away from you a little. His eyes looked into yours and he could feel your fear and excitement at the same time.

"I'll take care of you" his palm cupped your cheek, rubbing it with his thumb. You close your eyes and nodded, trying to calm your breath down. He really gave you the sense of security that you needed the most at the moment. Logan gently kissed you, before you felt his wet tip inserting between your labia.

You squeak between the kisses, the pain started increasing as Logan pushed deeper and deeper. "It's alright it's alright" he whispered, his lips still glued to yours as his hips moved forwards. Your face tensed while trying to ignore the pain. It felt like his dick is endless and he kept pushing, leaving no room for anything else inside you. Before long, he was fully inside you. Logan waited, the kissing sound filling the silent room and your walls got expanded.

It only took a few more passionate kisses and eager touches, before you got the urge for some friction and started really slowly moving your hips. Logan smiled devilishly as his lips were still firmly fixed on yours, a low chuckle left his throat. "Oh someone is eager?" he started moving his hips too, matching your motions. At first he moved slowly and carefully, his intention wasn't to hurt you but to please you.

His pace was smooth and gentle, whenever his balls touched your ass, you whimper as much as your vocals let you. Logan tried to keep kissing you, but when his thrusting started to pick up the pace, he couldn't focus on your lips anymore.

You lost all your senses the moment Logan's tip reached your cervix and started poking into it. His eagerness to reach his orgasm took over him so much, that he lost control of his hips. He was thrusting into you as fast and hard as he could, your moans getting louder and caressing Logan's eardrums. Your room was filled with nothing but synchronized sighs, wet clapping sounds and bed creaking.

“Jesus….fuck” it was clear from Logan's choppy moans that he was on the edge. His tip was twitching inside you, every vain was about to burst and drops of sweat from his forehead fell on your naked body. He looked like a wild animal and that only added to the atmosphere. You started feeling the heat in your lower abdomen and the need to pee was increasing. Your nails dug deep into Logan's back, while he was clenching his predatory teeth.

"C'mon darlin'" he caressed your cheek a few times, wiping your tears away. He knew you were close thanks to your clenching core that sends him even faster to his orgasm. One, two and on the third hard thrust, you tensed your whole body before you completely relaxed and cum on his cock. You arched your back and moaned loudly, tears falling from your eyes. Logan was still going, desperately trying to reach his orgasm too. Your face makes it easier to finally inject everything into you and before you recovered, he pulled out and cum on your stomach.

White sticky liquid was covering your stomach, while both of you tried to catch your breath. Logan collapsed next to you, closing his eyes and gaining some energy, before he hugged you and pulled you closer to him. You automatically cooperate and laid your head on his muscular shoulder. You were quiet, your nostrils were massive as you were still trying to catch up the oxygen that you lost during the previous act.

You looked up at him, admiring his red sweaty face, which still looked majestic. It didn't take long, until Logan locked his eyes with yours and smiled, as he rubbed your arm. "What're you thinking about hm?" without realizing, your smile fades into a neutral expression. You sigh sadly and break eye contact. "I'm thinking about Jean's words..." it was quiet briefly. "What words?" you were thinking, whether to tell him the truth or not. "She told me that you just going to use me and then throw me away like a piece of garbage..." you decided to tell him the truth, even if it might affect him.

"Really? Is that what she said?" he chuckled mockingly, making you look at him again. But your disappointed and thoughtful face didn't change. Logan sensed your worry and sighs. "Read my mind" he said with a low rough voice, waiting for you to do so.

You saw yourself and Logan, sitting at a checkered blanket in the middle of the park while Logan fed you with strawberries. You giggle, but it wasn't the only vision that warmed your heart. Suddenly you were at the cinema, holding hands and while you were paying attention to the movie, Logan was mainly watching you. The next vision was in the kitchen, you baking cookies together. You also couldn't notice the small detail, that you were wearing his sweatshirt. These were enough reasons to make you blush and conjure up smile from ear to ear.

"I don't want to use you and I definitely don't want to throw you away like a piece of trash..." he pulled you even closer. "I'm serious bub" Your teeth started showing, as you couldn't stop blushing. "I really like you like a lot and uh…” you cut his speech by kissing him. It was cute but a soothing slow kiss that reassured you both, that you meant it. When you pulled out, Logan tiredly grinned and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

You just watched each other for a while, enjoying each other's presence while you were still naked and your stomach still dirty with Logan's cum. "You tried it on Jean even though she was in relationship?" you asked suspiciously. Logan chuckled and shook his head. "Yes but not anymore" "Uh huh" you jokingly agreed, making Logan furrow his eyebrows. “You don't bealive me?" "I do" you agreed provocatively.

Logan devilishly smirked and attacked you, making you laugh and giggle. After a short tickling and prodding, Logan finally stopped. "Let's get you clean up bub" he said after he noticed his semen still laying on your naked body. He picked you up like a princess and carried you to the bathroom, where you both showered with a few passionate kisses and ended up clean and fragrant under the covers.

You fell asleep in his arms, being the happiest person in the whole world at that moment.

You woke up thanks to the rays of the sun that annoyingly shines directly into your eyes. You inhale before looking up, smiling as you saw Logan's sleepy face. His hair was tousled and he smelled like home. You wanted nothing more.

However, this beautiful early morning moment was interrupted by footsteps approaching your door. You knew right away that it was Jean and before you could wake Logan, she quietly opened the door. "Good mornin'!" she whispered and smiled. You nervously smiled back, unfortunately broking your promise. You controlled her mind so that she wouldn't see Logan sleeping right next to you, naked.

It must've worked because she was still looking at you with a massive smile on her face. "I won't bother you anymore…just get ready for breakfast, then you'll go help me with books!" You grunted in annoyance before Jean finally closed the door, leaving you two finally alone.

You dropped your head and sigh. "You cunning woman" you heard a dark raspy voice next to your ear, before Logan showered you with millions of meringue kisses on your cheek. You playfully giggle, trying to push Logan away, but it was useless.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked after he finally let your face go. You nodded, giving him a questioning look that asked him the same. "Well, since I slept next to the most amazing girl in the world...I slept great" he gave you another passionate kiss, filling your stomach with butterflies.

You don't know how to say it or explain it to Jean yet, but the only thing you know 100% is that Logan fucks really good.

[cup-o-stars]

Relativity Falls!

Design Concepts (and my unnecessary thoughts):

Excuse the the colors, ig my apps are fighting.

I see Mabel finding success no matter what happens to her, but I really like the thought of her running an insane arts and crafts business in GF. Alternatively, if she fell in the portal, she'd come out acting confident as always, but she probably wouldn't realize how much the constant change and lack of family/stability wore her out until she settled back in. In either case, she's a bit cracked.

Dipper is investigative, but cracks easiest under stress and is not as inherently adventurous as Mabel or Ford- so the portal wouldn't treat him well. If he's not the one in the portal, he'd be into stargazing and real magic to share with people, while also warding tourists away from the dangerous stuff. In general, he'd be an unhappy adult if left to his own devices, lol.

Between Dipper and Mabel, I like Dipper being in the portal more. He's a great protagonist, but as a supporting cast member, he needs to be more insane to match the draw that is 'Mabel taking care of children,' ha. I also love the idea of there being no portal / some other looming threat for these two to struggle with (at least because Hirsche has made it clear that Dipper and Mabel are equally smart, and to me it seems like the portal would reopen way quicker with them), but I didn't plan on posting these and I don't know how my followers feel about me posting lore.

Stanford and Stanley:

Pretty much how they are in canon, but now they're in a setting where they can get over themselves, ha. They aren't quite as mature as Dipper and Mabel were at their age, but after coming to GF, they finally found other people to look out for them. Dipper could be a more emotionally available and level-headed role model (I think having people to take care of is calming for him in turn), and they'd both look up to Mabel as the peak of somebody who knows how to socialize.

Fiddleford:

He's a sweet, southern, farm-raised mechanical engineer just like in canon.

Idk why Fiddleford is in GF (visiting an unnamed grandparent?), but I really like his relationship with Ford in the journal. Following that thought, in this AU, he starts out more of Ford's friend than Stan's, and it's kind of a big deal. Unlike Dipper's arc on learning to be a kid, Stan and Ford clearly struggled a lot with interpersonal relationships / finding security outside of eachother, and that's what I think this AU could be about (it's great they realized they need each other in canon, but the part where they had no one else to turn to is also kinda crazy if you ask me).

Ford gets to meet another smart kid in a weird town, which helps him feel more normal. He has a better idea of what friendship is because of it, but also, since I can't imagine Dipper wanting an apprentice so young/vulnerable/impressionable or Mabel asking only one of the twins to stay- he'd have to come to terms with the fact that he can't live in his dream world forever. (Or maybe the apprenticeship comes from somewhere else, just because the conflict around going back to Glass Shard Beach at all, or sending Stan alone could be pretty good.)

On the flipside, I think Stan's initial jealousy of Ford and Fiddleford's friendship would force him to try finding his own friends / hobbies. I like the idea that he fails at first- and a lot- but Mabel notices his mounting frustration (which he is very keen on hiding), and her consistent and unorthodox support makes him realize he wasn't alone to begin with. He can be more open around her, which makes it easier to open up to others, and then he can make friends without having to pull any tricks. He probably starts with some animals, and then at least gets closer to Fiddleford anyways (I feel like they're both more practical than Ford and value human company more, so they'd bond easier once Stan gets over his personal hurdle).

Anyways- because that was way too much- Mabel's exes are a constant source of antagonists and Dipper is stressed about setting a good example.

(I was more of a Monster Falls fan back in the day, but I can't draw animals, lol)

[sinning-23]

Bikinis On Top (OPLA Bikini Headcannons)

Seeing their bbygrl in a bikini opla headcannons

THis gets a lil RISQUE soooo 18+

Hey youguys i know its been a while lol I've been s swamped with work and Enjoy this in honor of hot girl summer approaching lmao I promise I'm getting back into eh groove of writing!

alos pls excuse spelling errors yall know me lmao

Luffy

-It’s hot and his shirts are open 9 times out of 10 so

-He was a bit stunned to see you with one of Nami's bikini tops adorning your chest with a nice pair of jean shorts.

-Boobs boobs boobs boobs boobs

-He's really trying to act normal but you can always tell when those big brown eyes start shifting from your face to your chest. And he always has that goofy grin on his face

-Strongly believe he's the type to impulsively bite them. lmao like literally grab two handfuls and CHOMP.

-He always was more of a boobs guy.

Zoro

-"Where's the rest of your shirt."

-He’s got his eyes skillfully flickering from your chest to your eyes then to you collar bone and again.

-“You don’t like me showing them off?” You question, slipping past him with a smile

-the funny thing is, you’re not talking about your boobs. You’re talking about the bites and hickeys he skillfully placed along them

-crazy how near the end of the day, the only thing the crew can seem to find as a trace of you is the discarded bikini top

Sanji

-He helped you tie it this morning when the sun had first been shining to brightly into your room, heating both of you up.

-personally, Sanji likes it when you wear the full piece, the straps of your bottoms just barely peaking out from the low-rise jeans you've got on.

-He also is one to pull your strings when you're also so the top just falls down to reveal the girls

-Is the type to lift you up out of the pool and set you up to sit on the steps like the goddess you are and just admire.

Usopp

-matching swimsuit set matching swimsuit set matching swimsuit set

-He always likes seeing you in a nice brown or sage green two-piece.

-won't say anything but wow when he sees you and smiles.

-Keep it polite but just know his hugs from behind will always end with him pulling at your bottom straps and letting them snap against your skin.

"USOPP!" You yelp, narrowing your brows at him while you massage the spot.

"Ok ok, i'm sorry mommas" He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the affected area, his large hands massaging the flesh of your thighs.

Nami

-Strictly a bikini gf and wifebeater+swim trunks gf duo lmao

-This can go either way actually. If she feels like a bikini kinda day it's gonna be a bright orange or a pure white with a sunhat and a nice flowy cover-up

-A she can't and won't make it easy for you to keep your hands off her,

-If YOU are in the bikini and she's in the swim trunks she REFUSES to keep her hands off you. She knows her girl looks good asf.

-Expect to have your ass smacked.

Shanks

-Is definitely keeping you on his lap while everyone else is splashing around. It was a pretty chill day and everyone decided hey why not go for a swim

"Can I please get in the water Shanks?" You sigh, pulling the strings of his swim trunks as he smiles and gives a quick "Nuh-uh"

-"Your ass looks too good. Just stay here a little longer hm?" he asks, squeezing your thighs, pressing kisses to your shoulder.

-He doesn't waste time taking you somewhere secluded to pull those bottoms to the side, somehow loving the way your ass looks in those bottoms every time he thrusts

Mihawk

-He personally likes it when you wear one of that cute pinup like 50's monokinis? And some wedges with a bandana. UGH he's gonna be right there with you avoiding the sun under the umbrella (that pale ass skin lmao)

-Will 100% lather you in sunscreen and just paper your shoulder with kisses.

-He's not taking you to eh pool he's taking you to the beach and you're just sitting together, enjoying one another company

-"I'm fucking you within an inch of your life after this." H admits in monotone, skin already starting to darken in a tan

-"Yes splendid." You reply still resting, enjoying the faint heat of the sun.

Buggy

-HAHAAAAAA this man will tear it off and then feel bad and get you another one...just to tear that off too

-is a sucker for the bikinis with anything on the boobs lmao he thinks they look like targets

-I like to think that ocean water is the only thing like that is an issue lmao so it is safe to say he's in the pool every summer, roughhousing with you and the rest of his crew

-I mean just a bunch of fucking kids lmao, macro polo, chicken fight, pretending to be a shark, you name it

-accidentally caused a nip slip tho and yelled for everyone to look away while shielding his girl.

[reticent-writer]

Alastor angst sorta

it started as angst then spiraled

@berryghostbunny

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

You were Alastor's assistant when you were alive

You helped him run the radio show

The two of you became good friends, then eventually more

He would always walk you to your house as there were a lot of missing person reports in your area

You had no idea that he was the cause

Until you saw him kill someone

You tried to pretend like you didn't see anything and acted as normal as possible but Alastor caught on

He slowly got the truth out of you and once he did he killed you

Your death was the reason he got caught and sentenced to death

You both met in hell

You panicked and tried to avoid him but he stayed close to you even while broadcasting his carnage

He could tell that in hell you were a fish out of water so he proposed a deal

He would give you enough power to protect yourself from anyone and everyone that tried to harm you in exchange for your soul

"Why are you following me?" You ask as you got away from the public eye so you could talk to him.

"I just want to have a little chat, my dear. We used to be quite close after all." He smiled

"That was a long time ago." You groaned as you hugged yourself to give some type of comfort.

"Exactly, in all my days I never would've thought that you, of all people, would end up with humanities worst. Whatever did you do, my dear." Alastor said as he approached you.

"That is none of your concern."

"Oh, but it is a sweetheart such as yourself doesn't deserve this place but looks can be deceiving." He sang as he wrapped an arm around your waist and lead you down a side walk.

"I can't think of anything bad that you could have done to end up here and I'm just dying to know."

His prying eyes stared into yours, it was making you uncomfortable. You removed his hand from your waist and walked beside him.

"Why would I tell you? You're the reason I'm here in the first place." You said. You couldn't believe how wide his smile grew.

"I did not kill you because I wanted to. In fact, it was your death that led to mine." He leaned close to your ear and whispered, "You meant that much to me, my dear." The sound of static filled your ears. His confession surprised you, it reminded you of your relationship when you were alive.

"I killed my parents." You confessed, and the static stopped abruptly.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

[mononijikayu]

think about things — fushiguro toji.

“I don’t want to mess this up, babe.” he finally admitted, the words coming out in a low, almost reluctant rumble. “I don’t want to mess him up. I don’t want to be like my father, babe. I wanna be a good father to him. I want to love him so much and I just….” Your heart ached at the rawness in his voice, at the vulnerability he rarely let show. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing your cheek against his chest. For a moment, he stiffened. He always did, as though he wasn’t quite used to comfort—but then he relaxed, his arms circling around you. “You won’t mess him up, baby.” you said softly. “You love him. You won’t end up like your father. You love Megumi, he is our treasure. That’s why you love him. That’s what matters most. And you’re trying. That’s more than enough.”

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: intense fluff, romance, mild-angst, pet names (baby, babe, treasure etc), love, humor, light-hearted, parenthood, married life, healthy relationship, newborn baby, being in love, slice of life, domestic life, family, anxiety, emotional trauma, emotional suffering, self-doubt, encouragement, depictions of anxiety, depiction of healthy relationship, depiction of married life, depiction of parenthood, depiction of self-doubt, depiction of emotional trauma, mention of familial issues, mention of childhood trauma, mention of emotional suffering, mention of breast-feeding, husband! toji, mamaguro! reader, baby! megumi, normalize having a proud house-husband and father at home, ladies, gents and non-binary friends!;

WORD COUNT: 7k words

NOTE: after writing so much sad stuff, i knew i had to write something really cute and something relatively happy, for the most part. i asked my beta reader what they wanted to see from me - toji or gojo and they said toji. and well, here we are. the song this is based off from is called think about things by daði freyr.

also what megumi accidentally said was ゴミ which expresses waste/garbage, encompassing things made by human acts. precious little megumi intended to say ごま which is sesame. megumi is still only a few months old!!! he's still learning how to speak!!! in any case, i hope you enjoyed this. i love you all!!! see you in the next one <3

masterlist

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FUSHIGURO TOJI THINKS HE’S NEVER BELIEVED IN WONDER. From the moment he was born, such a thing did not exist. Not even his mother believed it. Not even when he was born. But he thinks that after her sufferings, he wouldn't doubt it that he too inherited such grief and pain too.

Even having grown up in a sorcerer clan, where he saw things that could make anyone go in awe — nothing about it had made him feel like there was anything worth the thought. Nothing about being a Zenin was worth wondering or for that matter, worth remembering. 

But everything after that, especially when you came into his life, did he think they were possible. That wonders did exist in this life and he could have it. He was worth having. He was worth giving such wonders to.

And everything about wonder, he had learned from you. Every sense of the word, the texture, the taste, the feeling. Everything started when he met you. Every good thing sprung into life, like spring, when he met you. 

Fushiguro Toji believed that each person has only truly had three special wonders in their lives, nothing more and nothing less. It was almost something out of a genie’s lamp. Three wishes, three gifts, three wonders.

And Toji likes to think that he’s used up all his three wonders. But he was alright with that. He liked to think that he was content with having used it up. Because everything about his life now consisted of those three wonders. 

The first was when he first saw you, and then smiled at him so warmly. The second was when you agreed to marry him and spend the rest of your life with him. And the third? Oh, nothing could ever beat the third. That day when you made him a father, the day when your precious son Megumi was born into this world. 

Toji couldn’t help but stay there for a moment, his large frame silhouetted against the soft light spilling in from the hallway. He didn’t dare move too quickly or too loudly, worried that even the smallest disturbance might wake his precious son Megumi. And yet, despite the quiet, his mind was anything but still.

He had fought the worst of the worst in life, faced death more times than he could count, and lived a life dictated by survival. But none of that had prepared him for this: the weight of fatherhood.

Not the kind of weight that came from responsibility or the logistical burdens of raising a child. No, this was heavier. This was the realization that he was holding the entirety of someone else’s future in his calloused, scarred hands.

When Fushiguro Megumi had first been placed in his arms at the hospital, Toji had frozen. The baby was impossibly small, a bundle wrapped in a soft blanket that felt foreign against his skin.

Toji had stared down at the little face, this precious little face and saw that little face be endlessly red and then pale. He saw that face turn red again as the features scrunched up and echo into those heart-wrenching fits of crying. 

For a split second, all he could admit to was his heart racing so fast against his chest. He was nothing but panicked. Toji never thought he would ever end up finding himself terrified of something.

He was terrified that he couldn’t stop his baby from crying. He was terrified of how small he was, and how big his hands could be to hold something as precious as this little boy. Just as fast, Toji had ended up thinking about all the things he didn’t know: how to soothe him, how to feed him, how to even hold him properly.

He didn’t know how to. How does a father look tenderly at his baby son and tell him it’s going to be alright? How does a father let his voice be the calmest and quietest comfort in the world? How does a father have soft kind hands with such scarred, brutish hands?

Toji couldn’t help it but he stood there, holding the most precious wonder in life and had just as quickly thought of all the ways he might fail — panicked and afraid, wondering if there was ever going to be a chance that he’ll end up doing well. That he’d end up doing right by this precious wonder, this precious treasure. 

But now, almost eight months later, Fushiguro Toji stood here watching his son sleep, something shifted.

His little Megumi’s tiny fingers twitched again, his expression relaxing into something peaceful. He was so precious in this way, Toji thinks. The world stops and becomes a bright wonder for his son.

Toji’s lips quivered into a crooked smile, a tender warmth spreading through his chest that he hadn’t known ever existed before he’d had his little boy, his precious treasure. He crouched down, resting his forearms on the edge of the crib, and let his voice drop to a murmur, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the moment.

“You’re so small still, hm?” he said softly, almost as if confessing to the baby. “Smaller than I thought. And yet you are growing so much. Even bigger than back at the hospital, when you were born. But... I guess it’s cos you’re a big boy already, aren’t you? Our Megumi’s already growing, huh? Doin’ everything you could to be stronger.” 

For a moment, he couldn’t help but hesitate as his fingers brushed against Megumi’s back. His little son moved slightly, against the touch. He must know his father was here. But Toji felt weary about waking his little son up.

He was up for a while, and only just fell asleep a while ago. But Megumi went back soundly to sleep. And Toji felt some relief. His precious boy is going to get some rest tonight.

“Hey ‘gumi. I’m gonna be here, okay? Not like my father.” His voice felt thicker at those words, despite the fact that  Every step of the way. I don’t know if I’m good at this... but I’ll try, kid. I’ll always try.”

The words came out unpolished, unpracticed, but there was a rawness in them that surprised even him. Toji never thought of himself as the sentimental type, but Megumi had a way of drawing things out of him that he didn’t even know were there.

Maybe it was the way your little son had come to look like you, or maybe it was the undeniable fact that your precious treasure named Fushiguro Megumi was part of him—a part he didn’t know he could love so much.

As he continued to watch, Megumi stirred again, this time letting out a tiny sound that made Toji’s chest ache. He reached out hesitantly, his hand hovering over the crib for a moment before finally brushing against the baby’s blanket-covered chest. It was a small, tentative gesture, but it felt monumental.

“I don’t know what you’ll think about the world, or me one day, you know?” Toji murmured, his voice almost a whisper now. “But I want to know. Someday, when you’re big enough to talk, I’ll listen. To every little thing. And until then... I’ll keep trying to figure this out.”

The baby’s breathing deepened, a soft sigh escaping him, and Toji let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He straightened, glancing down at Megumi. The truth was, Toji had never expected to live a life where someone else depended on him. 

He’d grown up in a world where strength was currency, where attachments were liabilities, and where survival meant keeping your guard up at all costs. That was how it was when you were born a Zenin. No ifs, no buts.

He had lived in the shadows of loss and anger for so long that the idea of something so beautiful and uncorrupted and pure, something as delicate and innocent as his precious treasure Megumi—felt almost impossible to comprehend. And for that pure existence to be born from him, because of him. 

Toji couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t real. That something with such a cursed existence as him could ever have something like happiness. And yet, here he was. His precious son, born out of love between you and him. And he could see him. 

Even now as he’s standing outside that room, chest tight with a strange combination of fear and determination — he convinces himself that his son was here, his precious son was here, because he loved him. Because he loved you. And he deserves this. This was the life he deserves. He always will. 

For a moment, he closes his eyes and takes a breath. Before long, he whispers a good-night to his little one and flees to the living room, just near his son’s room. If Megumi gets hungry, he’ll bring him some of your milk stock from the fridge. There was no reason to wake you. You still had work later.  

He goes to the couch and closes his eyes again. He had to go and get some rest here. If he comes back to bed, he might be too loud when he gets back in. And he’d want to be there quickly if Megumi needed anything. That’s what he was here for, as your loving house-husband. But he finds that he can’t sleep. 

Even now, he still can’t help but feel restless. What if he gets too much sleep and he doesn’t wake up? He had to make you and Megumi breakfast in the morning too. He opened his eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling before a soft voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Toji? Baby?”

It was you, standing a few steps away, wrapped in the oversized robe you always wore around the house. Your hair was slightly mussed, your face soft with the haze of sleep, but your eyes were sharp, focused. You must have noticed the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched and unclenched as though he was wrestling with himself.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, voice gentle but edged with concern.

Toji turned to look at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a small, almost sheepish shrug, he nodded. “Yeah. He’s asleep.”

You stepped closer, your hand finding its way to his arm. Your touch was grounding, and Toji found himself leaning into it without realizing. “You’re sure? You look... tense.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Tense, huh? Guess that’s not wrong.” He glanced back at the door, his voice dropping to something softer, more vulnerable. “I was just... thinking.”

“About?”

“About him.” His blue–green eyes met yours briefly before flickering away, as though the weight of his thoughts was too much to share directly. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, you know? I look at him, and... he’s so small. So... breakable. And I—”

He stopped, biting back the words, his brows furrowing. You squeezed his arm gently, waiting for him to find the rest of his sentence. You knew that your husband has had a lot of concern about being a father.

He’s told you some of what he’d experienced as a child, and sometimes about his father. But not everything. So, this was the first time you’ve heard things from him personally, this loud and this vulnerable. Your face contorts at his pain.

“I don’t want to mess this up, babe.” he finally admitted, the words coming out in a low, almost reluctant rumble. “I don’t want to mess him up. I don’t want to be like my father, babe. I wanna be a good father to him. I want to love him so much and I just….”

Your heart ached at the rawness in his voice, at the vulnerability he rarely let show. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing your cheek against his chest. For a moment, he stiffened. He always did, as though he wasn’t quite used to comfort—but then he relaxed, his arms circling around you.

“You won’t mess him up, baby.” you said softly. “You love him. You won’t end up like your father. You love Megumi, he is our treasure. That’s why you love him. That’s what matters most. And you’re trying. That’s more than enough.”

He let out another shaky breath, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. “Trying doesn’t feel like enough,” he muttered. “Not for him. He deserves... more.”

“He deserves you, baby.” you corrected, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “The you who’s here, who’s holding him, who’s promising to be there. That’s all he needs. That’s all we both need.”

For a long moment, Fushiguro Toji just stared at you, his blue-green eyes searching your own bright orbs as though trying to find something he couldn’t quite name. Finally, he nodded, a small, almost imperceptible dip of his head. His face looked a little bit more relaxed, with your reassurance.

“Yeah…..” he said quietly. “Okay.”

You smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. “Come on. Let’s get some rest. You’ll need your energy when he wakes up in the middle of the night.”

“Babe, I should stay here—”

“No, no. You have super hearing, baby. You can get up when he wakes up. Come on, stop being a helicopter parent already and let our son sleep.”

Toji groaned softly at your words, but there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he let you guide him down the hall. For now, he would take things one moment at a time. One step at a time.

Because for all the uncertainty, for all the fears that lingered in the back of his mind, one thing was clear: he had a family now. A real one. And for them, Fushiguro Toji would do anything.

══════════════════

YOUR MATERNAL LEAVE IS FINALLY OVER. So in a way, the house was quieter now. Quieter than Fushiguro Toji had expected it to be with a growing baby around, though the stillness wasn’t something he disliked.

And with how you’d gone back to work today, leaving him to take care of Megumi for the first time on his own. So Fushiguro Toji was certain, he was going to have all hands on deck. 

He’d joked about it before you left, tossing off some comments about how hard it could be. But now, standing in the living room with his tiny son in his arms, he was realizing it was more daunting than he let on.

He’d had you around the house for a long while and he had gotten used to it. He had become a rusty house–husband and more so, an already rusty father.

Fushiguro Megumi couldn’t help but fuss a little, with his little face scrunching up in that telltale way that meant a cry wasn’t far behind.

Toji sighed a little, looking softly at his precious boy as he shifted him gently, cradling him against his chest and bouncing on his heels like he’d seen you do a hundred times before.

“Hey, ‘gumi. Easy, okay?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I gotcha. No need to get all worked up.”

Megumi quieted, though his tiny fists still curled and uncurled against Toji’s shirt. Toji looked down at him, his expression softening. Tired as he was, he was always content when he looked at his son. Everything pays off.

It wasn’t often he let himself feel this—this quiet kind of contentment. But when he was holding Megumi, feeling his warmth and hearing his little breaths, it was impossible not to. Everything Toji does, everything you both do; it’s all for Megumi.

“Toji?” You’d asked that morning, lingering by the door as you prepared to leave. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Me?” he’d scoffed, smirking. “I’ve handled worse than a baby, you know. I’d be fine with our son, babe. Trust me.”

But now, hours later, Toji found himself pacing the living room, humming softly under his breath to keep Megumi calm. A melody came to him,something his mother used to sing. It was very rare for his mother to hold him for that long, that he’d remember. But she’d held him enough to hum melodies to him. Those were Toji’s first memories.

They weren’t overcomplicated tunes, if one was to hear it. If anything, they were the kind you don’t think about too hard—something simple, warm, and steady. But sometimes, he’d remember the lyrics. And Toji would find that those words would stir something in his little son, as much as they do for him, remembering his own mother.

Toji didn’t know if his voice was good enough to be heard, or to be enjoyed in a song. But Megumi seems to not mind his voice. If anything, little Megumi seems to be fond of his voice. And Toji relished that thought. He might not be the best in the world in singing, but he’s glad that at the very least, it comforts his son.

“When we are together….” he sang quietly, his deep voice surprisingly tender. “There isn’t anywhere that I would rather be.”

Megumi stirred, his dark blue–green orbs tiredly blinking up at his father, and Toji couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight. He kept rocking his little boy gently, the words of the song coming easier now, as though they belonged to this moment.

“Three birds of a feather…..” he continued, his lips quivering in a half-smile, memories of his mother flooding his mind. “I just hope you enjoy our company.”

His little son couldn’t help but gurgle softly at his words, and Toji took that as a good sign, his confidence growing. He walked to the large window overlooking the bright flourishing garden he had planted and let the beckoning sunlight spill over them both.

“It’s been some time and though hard to define, as if the stars have started to align…” He continued to sing softly. Toji looked down at Megumi again, his expression uncharacteristically gentle. “We are bound together, now and forever. And I will never let you go.”

His little baby boy cooed, his little hand reaching up to grasp at the fabric of Toji’s tight shirt. Toji stilled, staring at the tiny fingers that clung to him as though Megumi understood every word he’d just sung. He couldn’t help but snicker.

“Yeah, you and me, kid.” he murmured. “And mama, too. Never forget your precious mama, hm? We’re always going to be three birds of a feather, okay?”

The quiet stretched on as Toji carried Megumi back to the couch, easing down into the cushions while keeping the baby close. He thought about you, about how hard it must have been for you to leave this morning, even though you tried to hide it. He thought about how much you trusted him to take care of Megumi, how much faith you had in him to do right by your son.

And as the baby drifted off to sleep in his arms, Fushiguro Toji felt it again—that strange, overwhelming sense of belonging. It wasn’t something he’d sought out, and it sure as hell wasn’t something he thought he deserved. But as he sat there, holding Megumi, he realized that this was it. This was everything.

When you returned home later that day from work, you were tired. But you couldn’t stop smiling. As you got closer inside you found them both on the couch. Your husband Toji was leaning back, his head tilted to the side, dozing lightly. Your treasure, little Megumi, was nestled against his father’s chest, his little hand still clutching at Toji’s shirt.

You stood there for a moment, your heart swelling at the sight, and whispered. “Three birds of a feather, all three of us. Just like you said, huh, baby?”

And though Toji didn’t stir, a faint smile tugged at his lips, as if he’d heard you all the same. You stepped closer, the quiet creak of the floorboards barely stirring the peaceful scene in front of you. Toji’s chest rose and fell steadily, his broad arms wrapped protectively around Megumi. 

Your heart swelled as you watched them, a moment of stillness in your otherwise chaotic world. It wasn’t a sight you’d ever imagined when you first met Toji, but now, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Careful not to wake either of them, you crouched by the couch and reached out, gently brushing your fingers through Megumi’s soft hair. His tiny face was relaxed, his mouth slightly open in the kind of sleep only babies seemed to achieve. Your gaze shifted to Toji, his sharp features softened by the faint glow of the setting sun spilling through the window.

“Toji, baby.” you whispered, keeping your voice low. “I’m home.”

His bright blue–green eyes cracked open, the colors of his irises catching the light. He blinked slowly, as if pulling himself out of a dream, and then his gaze landed on you. He processed the world and it stopped when he looked at you. Like when he met you. A small, lazy smile crept onto your husband’s beautiful lips.

“Hey, babe.” he murmured, his voice rough from sleep. “You’re back. Welcome home.”

You nodded, your fingers still brushing over Megumi’s hair. “How was it? Your first day as the primary stay at home parent for the first time?”

Toji huffed a quiet laugh, shifting slightly without jostling Megumi. “Didn’t burn the place down, did I?”

You grinned, leaning your chin on the edge of the couch. “I don’t see any scorch marks at all, baby. I’d say that’s a win.”

He snorted softly, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his expression—something vulnerable. “He’s… a lot quieter than I thought he’d be. I’d always thought that young kids would be like that but….Megumi spent most of the day just watching me like I was some kind of puzzle he was trying to figure out.”

“That’s Megumi for you, you know?” you said, your smile softening. “He’s always been observant. Like someone else I know.”

Toji raised a brow, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he looked down at the baby in his arms, his hand shifting to rest against Megumi’s back. For a moment, he was silent, and then he spoke, his voice quieter this time.

“He’s a good kid, our little ‘gumi.” he said, almost to himself. “He doesn’t even cry much. Just stares at me like he’s waiting for me to say something smart.”

You laughed softly, careful not to wake the baby. “And did you?”

“Course not, babe.” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “But I… I talked to him. Sang, too.”

Your eyes widened slightly. You slowly smiled. You loved your husband’s voice too. And you were certain that your love for his voice was transported to your son too. “You sang to him, baby?”

Toji rolled his eyes, though a faint blush crept up his neck. “Don’t make a big deal out of it, babe. He seemed to like it, that’s all.”

Your heart melted at the thought of Toji singing to Megumi, his deep voice wrapping around words meant only for his son. You reached out, your hand covering his where it rested on Megumi’s back.

“You’re doing great, baby.” you said softly. “You know that, right? I’m so proud of you.”

He glanced at you, his expression guarded for a moment before it softened. “I’m just… figuring it out as I go. Don’t wanna mess this up.”

“You won’t, baby. I’m certain about your success.” you assured him. “Not with how much you care about him.”

Toji didn’t respond right away, but his grip on Megumi tightened slightly, as if to anchor himself. After a moment, he nodded, his gaze dropping back to the sleeping baby. He lets out a relieved sigh before letting a small smile echo on his lips.

“Yeah, I guess so.” he murmured. “We’re figuring it out. The three of us.”

“Three birds of a feather, you told me before.” you said quietly, the words slipping out before you could think about it. “We’ll figure it all out.”

Toji’s lips echoed into a bigger smile, and he glanced at you, his green eyes warm. “Yeah. That sounds about right.”

As the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow over the room, you stayed there by the couch, your hand resting over his. It wasn’t perfect, and it wouldn’t always be easy.

But as you looked at the two of them, your husband and your son, you felt the stars aligning. You were bound together, now and forever. And none of you would ever let go.

══════════════════

TODAY WAS A DAY OFF. So Toji had let you doze off for a little while longer. He thought that with how you were trying to still settle with balancing life as a new mother and also a career woman, it takes a toll on you.

And more than anything, you deserve a chance to have some chance to just relax. So, you hadn’t noticed how long you had actually slept until you saw the clock by your bedside table. 10:30 am. You sat up immediately.

The moment you stepped out of your room, you tried to be as quiet as possible. A smile echoes across your lips as you find yourself stopping and listening for a moment. You could hear Toji’s deep voice coming from the living room.

It had that playful lilt he used only with Megumi—low and teasing, with just a hint of childish mockery. You smiled to yourself as you moved toward the source of the commotion.

In the living room, you found the two of them on the floor. Your two boys had a little bubble of their own. And you suspect that they've had that bubble since before dawn. Megumi gets angsty and wakes up at that time, wanting some milk.

Your husband Toji was sitting cross-legged, Megumi perched in front of him on a soft play mat. Your son’s little face was scrunched up in what could only be described as a glare, his tiny fists clenched at his sides. Your husband Toji, still rather oblivious to the budding storm brewing in his child, was grinning like an idiot.

“Megumi, hey..... kid….what’s that look for?” Toji was saying, leaning down so their faces were at the same level. “What’s with that intense focus, huh? You pooping or what? You gotta let papa know, so he can prepare. Your poop goes nuclear, you know that? Papa smells it on his hands even after he washes, hm?”

Megumi let out a frustrated sound, his little glare intensifying, which only made Toji laugh harder. “Yeah, you’re definitely working on something, aren’t you? What’s it gonna be, huh? A big one?”

“Gomi!” Megumi suddenly blurted, his little voice sharp and determined as he glared daggers at his father.

Fushiguro Toji couldn’t help but freeze up. He found himself blinking in surprise. For a moment, the world stood still as he tried to process what his little son just said, as perhaps — his very first word.  

“What?” he asked, tilting his head like he’d misheard. “Did you just call me gomi?”

You couldn’t hold back your laugh anymore, clutching the wall for support as you doubled over. The absurdity of the situation, paired with Toji’s stunned expression, was too much.Your son was always so full of surprises. 

“Oh my god, baby…..he called you trash!” you managed between laughs.

Toji turned his wide-eyed gaze to you, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying to figure out how to defend himself. “Hey, wait a minute! I don’t think he meant—”

“Gomi!” Megumi said again, louder this time, pointing a tiny finger at his father. His glare hadn’t wavered in the slightest, his baby cheeks puffed out in sheer indignation.

“I swear to the heavens above…” Toji said, now more flustered than you’d ever seen him. “I’m not gomi! What the hell, kid?!”

Still laughing, you finally found your balance from the laughing fits. You walked over and lowered yourself as you scooped Megumi into your arms, kissing his head as his tiny arms flailed indignantly. Your husband’s frown was evident frustration. 

“I don’t think our son’s not calling you trash, baby.” you said, wiping a tear from your eye. “He’s trying to say goma. Sesame. He’s been seeing it in TV commercials when I feed him some milk these past few nights. He might have caught up with it and babbled it and…it just didn’t end up as translated.”

Toji stared at you, then at Megumi, who was now nestled against your chest, still glaring at him like he’d committed the ultimate betrayal. “Sesame?” Toji repeated, frowning. “Why the hell is he glaring at me, then?”

“Maybe because you keep asking him if he’s pooping, baby.” you said with a grin, bouncing Megumi lightly to calm him down. “Honestly, baby, would you want someone to do that to you?”

Toji groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Great. First real word he says to me, and it’s calling me gomi, babe. Kid’s already taking after you.”

You snorted, pressing another kiss to Megumi’s cheek. “Don’t blame me because he’s got taste, baby. Our son takes after his mother well!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Toji grumbled, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. He reached out and ruffled Megumi’s hair, despite the baby’s continued glare. “Fine, kid. I’ll let it lose this time okay? You win this time, hm? But papa is not a gomi, got it?”

Megumi didn’t respond, but the glare softened just enough for Toji to let out a relieved sigh. “That’s what I thought. Just like your mama.” he muttered, before looking back at you. “Are you laughing at me the whole time?”

“Absolutely, baby.” you said with a grin. “And I’ll be telling this story forever.”

Toji groaned again, but you caught the corner of his mouth twitching upward, unable to hide his fondness as he watched Megumi settle back into your arms. Even when his son thought he was trash, Toji couldn’t help but adore him.

As the laughter subsided and your little Megumi relaxed in your arms, you couldn’t help but keep grinning at the ridiculous scene you’d just walked in on. It was like your husband found himself in outer space. And he was still debating whether aliens were real.

Fushiguro Toji sat back on his hands, still looking flabbergasted as his blue-green eyes darted between you and Megumi. HIs eyes narrowed for a moment and then a short breath releases from his lips. He shook his head, muttering under his breath.

“Unbelievable.” he grumbled, though there was a clear hint of amusement now in his tone. “First words. Gomi. What are the odds?”

You chuckled, bouncing Megumi lightly on your hip. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. He’s been trying to say goma all week, and you just happened to push his buttons at the wrong time.”

“Pushed his buttons?” Toji said, straightening up. “All I did was ask if he was pooping! That’s fair game when someone’s giving you that face!”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, glancing down at Megumi, who was still sporting a little frown but had mostly calmed down. “Maybe he’s tired of you questioning his dignity, baby.” you teased. “He’s got standards, you know.”

“Standards?” Toji repeated, narrowing his eyes at his son. “This coming from a kid who tried to eat his own foot this morning?”

“Gomi!” Megumi declared again, his little finger pointing accusingly at Toji, as if to double down on his stance.

You burst out laughing, nearly stumbling as you tried to hold Megumi steady. “Oh my god, Toji, baby. It's rough! you’ve been officially labeled. There’s no coming back from this now!”

Toji let out a long, exaggerated sigh, dragging a hand down his face before flopping dramatically onto his back. “This kid’s out to get me. This is just....ugh.” he mumbled, staring up at the ceiling. “First it’s gomi, next thing I know, he’ll be telling his teachers I’m a garbage dad.”

“You’ll survive, baby.” you said with a grin, moving to sit beside him on the mat. Megumi squirmed in your arms, reaching out toward Toji with his chubby little hands. “See? He doesn’t mean it. He loves you, trash talk and all.”

Toji sat up just enough to take Megumi from you, holding the baby in front of him at arm’s length as if inspecting him for further insults. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Megumi.” he said, narrowing his blue-green eyes towards his little boy.

Megumi stared back at him, his lips twitching as if he was trying to form another word. For a moment, both you and Toji held your breath, waiting to see what would come out next.

“Gooooo-ma.” Megumi finally said, his voice softer this time, and he clapped his little hands together as if proud of himself. "Go-ma!"

Toji blinked, his expression shifting from stunned to triumphant. “There it is! Goma! That’s what you meant, huh? Not gomi. Goma! Great job, ‘gumi!”

“Good job, my little treasure!” you cheered, clapping along with Megumi.

Toji puffed out his chest, grinning at you like he’d just won a major battle. “See? I told you the kid doesn’t think I’m trash.”

“Oh, don’t act like you weren’t sweating there for a second, baby.” you teased, nudging him playfully.

“Whatever.” he said, pulling Megumi closer and nuzzling his cheek, much to the baby’s delight. “This little guy knows his old man’s the best out there, hm? Don’t you, kid?”

Megumi giggled, reaching up to grab a handful of Toji’s hair. Your rather contently resigned husband snickered, taking a deep sigh and letting his son do as he wished.

You let out a small laugh, your heart warm. Life was great like this. And you were truly grateful, as much as you know Toji was, that this was your life day to day.

“Yeah, yeah, baby.” you said with a fond smile, watching them. “For now, at least. Just wait until he starts picking up on all your bad habits.”

Toji shot you a playful glare, but there was nothing but warmth in his eyes as he cradled Megumi against his chest. “Bad habits, huh? I’ll teach him the important stuff. Like how to dodge a jab and—”

“And maybe not how to taunt people until they call you garbage.” you cut in, smirking at your husband.

Toji groaned, but the sound was filled with affection. “Fine, fine. You win this one. But just wait. Next word he says is gonna be dad. Calling it now, babe. Third time’s the charm!”

“Whatever you say, gomi–kun.” you teased, unable to resist one last jab.

He shot you a look, but the soft laugh he let out was enough to tell you he didn’t mind. In fact, you could tell he was enjoying every bit of this—your teasing, Megumi’s growing personality, the quiet chaos of your little family.

And as you watched him hold Megumi, the baby now giggling uncontrollably as Fushiguro Toji playfully poked his chubby cheeks, you knew there was no place any of you both would rather be.

Especially your beloved husband. Even if Megumi decided to call him gomi again tomorrow. That all didn't matter. As long as you were together, happy and content.

══════════════════

epilogue 

The next morning, after breakfast and while you were doing the laundry, the air was thick with anticipation. The kind of anticipation that only a determined father can have when his child is on the verge of accomplishing a great feat—like calling him "oto-san" or "dad".

Toji, sitting on the floor cross-legged like he was preparing for a life-altering event, had a ridiculous amount of hope in his eyes. Megumi was seated in front of him on the playmat, his big bright blue–green eyes wide and serious, as if he understood the gravity of the moment.

“Oto-san.” Toji said, his voice impossibly soft, practically dripping with encouragement. “Say it with me, Megumi. O-to-san. You can do it, little man.”

Megumi, who was sitting cross-legged just like his dad (it was adorable how he tried to copy every little thing Toji did), looked up at him, his tiny face scrunched up as he processed the words. He was staring at Toji like he was decoding some ancient language, his eyes darting from Toji's mouth to his eyes, clearly focused.

Toji waited, leaning in a little closer as though the two of them were sharing a secret. “Oto-san. Come on. Say it.” Toji repeated slowly for his little son. “O-to-san.”

Megumi blinked once, twice, and you could practically hear the little gears turning in his mind, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was exaggerated. “Gomi!”

You couldn't hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. The way your Toji looked completely deflated at the sound of the word—again—was too much. He had been trying so hard to do what he could since this morning and so far, Megumi hasn't been cooperating.

He slumped back onto his hands, shaking his head in mock exasperation, though you could see the smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite his best efforts to act annoyed.

"Not again, kid!" Toji groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “I’m not gomi! I’m Oto-san! You’re really gonna call me trash again, huh?”

Megumi, blissfully unaware of the comedic frustration he was causing, grinned up at Toji. His tiny face lit up like a lightbulb, pleased with the attention, clearly proud of himself for having mastered the art of taunting his father in a single syllable.

“I swear, kid…..” Toji muttered, but his voice was full of affection. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You leaned against the doorframe, watching the whole thing unfold, utterly charmed by the two of them. Toji, the intimidating figure who was capable of single-handedly taking down enemies twice his size, now reduced to a pile of goo over his son’s simple interactions. 

And Fushiguro Megumi, with his wide, innocent eyes, staring at his dad like he was the most important person in the world.

“Let’s try again, okay?” Toji said, his tone shifting back to encouragement. “Come on, Megumi. O-to-san. You can do it.”

Megumi was still focused on Toji, his big eyes narrowed in thought, like he was really going to work for this one. And for a moment, Toji’s gaze softened, watching his son struggle so seriously with something as simple as a word. There was no trace of impatience on his face now, only patience and quiet joy at being in this moment with his son, who was so determined.

“O-to-san” Toji repeated slowly, the words rolling off his tongue like they were sacred, full of meaning. “O-to-san.”

Megumi blinked again and then, just as you thought the whole thing was going to repeat itself with another triumphant “Gomi” — your little treasure of a son did something that was rather unexpected, even for his own father.

He looked down at his little hands for a moment, and then, in a burst of focus, he looked back up at Toji. This time, his little mouth formed the word slowly, with effort. “O...to...san.”

Toji froze. His entire body stilled, as if the universe itself had shifted. He blinked, then blinked again, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Did... did you just say—” His voice was breathless, almost as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Did you just say... Oto-san?”

Megumi’s face lit up with an innocent pride, a mischievous little grin spreading across his face as though he knew he’d just done something monumental. He reached up, patting Toji’s cheek, as if confirming what had just happened.

Toji, his heart swelling with emotions you didn’t even know he was capable of, immediately scooped Megumi into his arms. The baby squealed, giggling in surprise as he was lifted up, and Toji held him close, pressing his cheek against his son’s own chubby ones.

“You did it, kid. You really said it. O-to-san.” He repeated it like he was relishing every syllable. “Dad. Oto–san.” he whispered, almost in awe. “You said it.”

You couldn’t contain the warm laugh that bubbled up from your chest, a soft, happy sound that filled the room as you walked over to them. You bent down, brushing a hand through Megumi’s soft hair as he clung to his dad, who was still holding him in a vice grip, clearly elated.

“Oh my god, Toji, baby.” you said, grinning from ear to ear. “You did it. You’re officially Oto-san.”

Toji looked up at you, a grin breaking across his face, his eyes shining with joy. “You hear that? Oto-san! He said it!” His voice was practically vibrating with excitement.

You leaned in to kiss Megumi’s cheek, and he responded by beaming up at you, his tiny arms reaching toward both of you as if he was basking in the love that was flooding the room. "He’s got his first word," you said softly, holding him gently. “Oto-san.”

Toji’s expression softened, his hands tightening around his son as if he were trying to hold onto this moment forever. “Man, I never thought I’d get to hear that. First ‘gomi’ and then ‘Oto-san’... I’m already getting my father of the year award.”

“Definitely, baby.” you teased, sitting down beside them. “First he calls you trash, now he’s calling you dad. You’re on a roll!”

Toji grinned widely, holding Megumi up like he’d just won a trophy. “Yeah, well, I’m Oto-san now. All the ‘gomi’ in the world can’t take that away from me.”

Megumi, as if he understood the gravity of the moment, raised his hands in a victorious gesture, causing both of you to laugh. Toji’s joy was practically radiating off of him, and you could tell that, for him, this moment, this small, perfect moment—was everything to your husband.

As you all sat together, with Megumi snuggled between you and Toji, you couldn’t help but smile at the scene. Toji might have started this whole "Oto-san" lesson with a bit of desperation, but now, he was on top of the world. 

The way Megumi had slowly figured out the word, and the way Toji had been so patient—there was a deep love in the room. It wasn’t just about the word itself; it was about the bond they were building.

“I think he’s got it, baby.” you said, watching as Toji continued to whisper the word to Megumi. “Oto-san... your first real word. He’ll be saying it a lot from now on.”

Toji, still holding Megumi close, sighed happily, a sense of peace settling over him. “Yeah.” he said, his voice full of warmth and affection. “Oto-san. I’m good with that.”

And in that moment, with the three of you together in the warmth of your home, everything felt right.

[scwheeler]

— how to get a girl’s attention

luke castellan x fem!daughter of demeter!reader

warnings: near-drowning experience…

summary: as the daughter of demeter, you’re the first person that everyone turns to when injuries need to be tended too, questions need to be asked, and any type of advice is required, however what’s going to happen when you’re the one in need?

a/n: this one’s quite lengthy guys! i really just got derailed like ten times and love adding details and the ending is kind of basic but whatever; don’t mind me making up random camper names btw lol 👼👼

waking up to the sound of constant bickering was just a normal tuesday morning as your younger half-siblings were already at each other’s throats about some stupid thing. yesterday it was borrowing boots and the day before it was who had to take the trash out.

you groaned, wishing that you could still sleep in peace and quiet but your cabin clearly suggested otherwise. so you gradually got up and put on your little slippers, approaching the main fighters who continued to argue with each other.

“hey hey hey, what’s going on now.” you had to physically get between the two children, separating them with your arms.

“he slipped paint all over my skirt and now it’s ruined!” the young girl cried, holding up her stained skirt to prove it. you took the clothing in your hands and knelt down to face her.

“why don’t i go to the river later today and try to get the stain out myself. it seems washable to me, what do you think?”

with a slight frown, she nodded her head to comply. you were relieved to say the least before turning to the boy, “how about you apologize and come with me to the river after breakfast?”

the boy stayed silent with his arms crossed, trying to avoid your insisting stare. but intimidated enough, he looked to the floor and whispered a small “fine, i’m sorry” with a glare.

you smiled as the situation was deescalated and told the rest of the kids surrounding the pair to hurry and make their beds in order to head to breakfast.

holding hands with the now puffy-faced girl, you tried to tell her about all the fun activities she could do today to forget about the unfortunate morning incident.

before reaching mess hall, the child already had a a bright smile just thinking about the bracelet making and embroidery you promised for the later evening. pleased with your peace-making skills, you sat with the rest of your campers and half-siblings that you were in charge of.

as the eldest sibling and one of the camp counselors, you took on the responsibility of looking after the young ones and caring for almost everyone at camp.

thus, when most of the camp half-blood children had troubles or dilemmas of any sort, they would disregard their own counselors and go straight to you. your kindhearted, yet sociable personality rooted from your mother: demeter.

you were often found laying around in the fruit fields or by the river listening to the water flow through the ground and hit the rocks. like your mother, nature was where you felt at peace, especially with the lack of quiet in your own cabin.

but you still loved your fellow campers and half-siblings, except for one boy who would not leave you alone.

luke castellan.

he liked to push your buttons and see how far he could take you until you’d explode. of course, you always kept your calm until either you just left the conversation or it would be interrupted by a camper in need who was like a knight in shining armor.

it wasn’t that you didn’t like the guy. you liked everyone at camp, including mr. d for gods sake! but something about luke was different. you occasionally saw him with his campers or his friends, he would joke around but never act like he does with you.

when you least expect it, he sneaks up behind you and gets close enough to whisper something in your ear. it could be just a random comment or sentence started but in an alluring voice as if you were friends or even more.

he knows what he’s doing. the moment he finishes, you flinch and get flustered, cheeks heating up and instantly standing up to avoid making eye contact. as you walk away, luke only watches and smiles to himself.

he knows how much power he holds over you, as with just a few words he can make you nervous.

“okay so once everyone’s done, we’ll first go to the archery range and you’ll stay there with counselor clarisse while damien and i go to the river to get that nasty stain out.” you explained and first looked at the boy who begrudgingly agreed to helping you earlier and then winked at the little girl you promised to help.

“counselor clarisse…!” one of the boys exclaimed.

“oh no she’s the mean one!” “yeah, she’s a bully!” your campers all started to agree and mutter remarks about their fear in staying with clarisse.

you couldn’t help but chuckle at their scared little faces, “clarisse? oh gods no! clarisse is not scary, she loves you guys and she’ll take good care of you.”

the children stared at you in disbelief while chowing down their eggs and bacon. “why can’t we just come with you to the river?!” one of the girls begged and began to pout alongside the other ten kids beside her.

you sighed and pursed your lips into a thin line, trying to come up with a compromise but you couldn’t.

“please it’s only for a couple of hours and then i’ll be back for the rock wall and some capture the flag!” you persuaded, trying to lighten up the mood.

but the kids still looked dissatisfied, now poking their breakfast around with their utensils in objection.

“well—” before you could plead another case why clarisse is a perfectly reasonable and responsible counselor and guardian, you were cut off by the one and only.

“aw don’t worry guys, you should listen to your counselor. plus i’ll be there too so if counselor clarisse gets even just a little too scary, you can come and hang with awesome counselor luke!” a voice announced from behind you.

you nearly choked on your food, startled in the surprise voice cutting you off. but the campers were overjoyed to see their second favorite counselor appear. there were an overwhelming amount of comments from the once so silent children, mostly regarding “luke!” and “yay!”

you whipped your head around to face the boy, standing right behind you with nothing but a smug grin on his face. then he leaned in just as he always does and whispered a quick, “you’re welcome” and turned to leave just as fast as he came.

“can we please hang out with counselor luke instead of clarisse?!” all the campers plead with their hands put together and lower lip puckered. left with no other choice by that damn castellan again, you inhaled deeply and slightly nodded which was shortly followed by an array of cheers and excitement.

after dropping off all of the campers in the hands of luke, you put a hand on damien’s back and led him to the river. but before leaving, you had to make sure luke would actually clock in as a responsible counselor.

“so i can count on you to keep them safe for the next couple of hours?”

“wow you sound like you doubt me!” luke said and took a step back with his hands up in fake surrender.

“enough with the games, castellan. are you going to make sure they don’t kill each other and stay unharmed until i return?” you asked again, ignoring his previous comment.

luke tried to hold back his smile after you called him by his last name. most of the time, his sparring partners or other counselors would use his last name rather his first. however, when the way you let the ‘n’ slightly my drag after saying it sent chills throughout his entire body.

to hide his delight, he lightly scoffed and crossed his arms at your hesitation. “i assure you that i will protect them with my life. i mean i am the best swordsman at camp,” he added as the corners of his lips just couldn’t help themselves to lift a little.

you rolled your eyes at his self-confidence and how he kept complimenting himself. luke only did it to impress you though, something that hasn’t been very successful.

“okay well alissa has a nut allergy, georgie has a bee allergy, and please keep thomas and will away from the poison ivy. i do not want to spend another summer knee deep in tomato juice.”

luke could only watch and admire as you kept expressing your deep concern for all the kids. he loved how much you cared. but a few more seconds and you would be driving yourself crazy over all the possibilities of something going wrong.

that’s when luke stepped in and softly grabbed your right arm.

“hey, it’s fine. go do whatever you have to do and i’ll come running down to the river if anything goes wrong but i doubt it, i’m pretty responsible y’know.” he reassured and stared straight into your eyes, indicating his sincerity. his smile wasn’t conceited or to drive his ego but rather held a tender emotion.

you looked up into his hazel eyes and suddenly the worries stopped and your nerves were calmed, other than the ones beginning to stir in your stomach. but this was far from the regard about the kids.

this feeling was something else. something new.

“are we going to go already?” the young boy you almost forgot about, whined and rugged on your orange camp t-shirt.

snapping out of your trance and back to reality you answered, “o-oh yeah, i think counselor luke’s got it from here.”

with that you turned away from luke and immediately headed for the river alongside damien but the paint-stained skirt was farthest from your mind now. you tried to shake the new feelings and thoughts out of your body and replace them with your past ones of the kids.

until, “is that guy your boyfriend?”

you quickly looked down to the boy asking the question, with such seriousness in his eyes.

“counselor luke? gods no! i wouldn’t even call him a friend!” you answered swiftly, picking up your pace and hurrying damien in front of you.

“geez…i was just asking!”

as soon as you two got to the river, settling on a few rocks by the edge, you started rubbing the blue-stained skirt with the clear water. damien sat next to you, fiddling his thumbs and staring at the water’s constant movement.

“so are you going to tell me why you did this or not?” you began, keeping your eyes on the skirt.

“i just wanted to.”

“damien.” you urged and this time, you stared directly at him with your eyebrows raised.

he sighed in defeat and gave up on lying to you.

“okay…well i just didn’t know how else to get clara’s attention,” the boy admitted and refused to look at you.

his response warned your heart and prompted your to smile to yourself.

“so you did this, just to get clara’s attention?”

you held up the now drenched skirt and demanded damien to look at you. for a moment, he did and nodded quickly before instantly going back to staring at the rock he was sitting on.

you stifled your laughter at how adorable the young boy you were with was being.

“damien…there are a lot of different and more efficient ways to get clara’s attention. may a suggest one that doesn’t destroy her belongings and ends up with her being angry?” you insisted and squeezed the excess water out of the skirt.

he looked up and nodded again but this time he continued.

“what should i do?”

“why don’t you make her a bracelet when we go back and sincerely apologize.” you suggested while laying out the wet skirt on the rock to dry.

he smiled at your suggestion as you went to sit closer by him. before speaking again, he pulled out a small daisy from his pant pocket and presented it to you.

your eyes focused on the blooming flower that lost a few of its petals due to being stuck in the boy’s pocket for a while now. but the remaining petals still standing were enough to maintain the flower’s beauty.

“when did you become such a gentlemen?” you nudged his shoulder and took the flower from his hands.

“oh, i’ve been giving him some lessons.”

alarmed, you turned to see the familiar face that had been surprising you all day.

“what are you doing here?! how about the kids—who’s watching them?!” you immediately stood up and marched towards the too calm figure standing amongst the trees. but he caught you with both arms, preventing you with ease.

“woah woah, take a breather, they’re with clarisse.” he said and stopped you before you ran back to the mess hall.

reading your expression, luke could tell you were not convinced nor pleased so he had to fix his answer.

“—and annabeth and chris.”

with that you stopped fighting against his grasp and stepped back, finally exhaling.

“you haven’t answered my first question.”

“oh! i just uh wanted to um come and tell you that they’re asking for damien back at camp. they were practically begging me to come over here and get him!”

you narrowed your eyes after he finished, easily indicating the lie.

“okay…you can go damien but remember what i said,” you smiled and patted his shoulder before sending him off back to camp.

the young boy ran off without a care and ready to make that bracelet with a formal apology. luke stood there, quite surprised that his lie that chris helped him think of in fact worked.

“soooo do you need help with whatever that is?” luke pointed at the skirt laid out on the rock.

“no.” you shortly responded and walked back to your rock but luke followed like a lost puppy.

“are you sure? i mean as head counselor for cabin 11, i can cook up a mean batch of laundry,” he insisted and trailed behind you.

unbeknownst to him, you rolled your eyes and cringed at his wording.

“your words don’t even make sense.”

caught in a lie, luke decided actions spoke louder than words and walked past you to the skirt. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as he picked it up and crouched down near the water before dunking it back into the water.

shocked and a little annoyed, you hurriedly ran to him.

“what the hell are you doing?! i just washed that! i’m waiting for it to dry dumbass!”

“oh she curses!” he exclaimed, finally getting a real response from you.

you reached for it until luke raised it a little higher, just out of your reach. using his height as an advantage, he held out the clothing as far as he could and to the river.

fed up and exhausted, you went on your tippy-toes and lunged for the skirt. swiftly, luke pulled it close to his body just as you reached leading you to accidentally lean too far.

with a splash, you fell straight into the freezing cold water, unknown to how deep the river was. luke’s eyes widened, he thought you falling in would be funny but once you hadn’t resurfaced within a few seconds he became worried.

without a second thought, he dropped the skirt, pulled off his camp shirt, and dove into the biting waves. as soon as he saw your bright orange t-shirt in contrast to the clear water, he put his arm around your waist and swim towards the surface.

pulling you out to the rocks and laying your body on the ground, he waited for you to gain consciousness. luckily, you started to gasp for air and spit out gulps of water as you sat up.

luke sighed in relief at once. you wiped your face of water and blinked repeatedly until your sight returned to normal. then your eyes were fixated on something else, rather someone. his bare chest stood directly in front of your face, it wasn’t like you were trying to stare!

“i’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to do that and i’m really sorry.” luke recited.

“i-it’s okay.” you stuttered, the cold water chilling your body.

“here take off the wet one and take mine.”

luke grabbed his discarded camp shirt and handed it to you. if you weren’t on the verge of frostbite you would’ve refused, but without another word you agreed and luke turned to face the trees as you pulled the wet shirt over your head and put on luke’s.

“thanks. for saving me and the shirt.”

luke turned back to face you and smiled, “i mean i was the one to make you fall into the water in the first place, it’s the least i can do.”

“aren’t you cold?” you signaled to his bare chest.

“no, i’m okay don’t worry. but your jeans are still wet so let’s head back to camp.” he reassured and helped you get up.

you nodded and let him take the lead. with your wet shirt and skirt in one hand and the other grabbing onto luke’s arm, you two finally made it back to camp. before dropping you off at your cabin, you had to ask.

“why did you come to the river anyway?”

luke awkwardly put his hand on the back of his neck and looked away.

“oh. i just uh wanted to spend time with you.” he admitted, ultimately facing you.

you stopped attending to your dripping pants and looked up at him. he had a genuine smile, now with both hands shoved into his pockets.

how was it that you had never noticed the golden flecks in his deep brown eyes? or the way the orange hues of the sunset highlighted the amber shade his eyes would turn?

“y’know, there are a lot of other ways to get my attention in the first place, that doesn’t involve us falling into freezing cold water.”

luke laughed at your comment which eased the awkward air.

“i had this almost exact same conversation with a little boy of about seven years, and gave him some valuable advice.”

“what was the advice..?” he carefully asked.

“to make her a bracelet and apologize, one of…you’ve already done profusely.” you raised your eyebrow to imply his previous attempt in apologizing nonstop.

“ah, a bracelet you say, okay got it,” luke said and nodded his head.

with that, he bid you a good day and you asked to meet him later at the campfire to return his shirt.

“alright you two sit there, i don’t want to see anymore fighting over the dinosaurs, you can sit here with him, and you three over there—” guiding the campers for the campfire that was just about to begin, you made your way to an empty bench.

smiling to yourself, you watched as your campers finally calmed down and enjoyed the music, giving up on fighting and arguing with one another. someone jumped over the bench and leaned back to sit right next to you, and you had a feeling who it may be.

“luke?”

“yes ma’am.” he replied with a tilt towards you and two fingers from his head.

the campfire lit up his face and highlighted his sharp features that you had somehow missed until this moment. his charming smile urging his dimples alongside his dark curls freshly washed with a new scented shampoo was enough to make you realize you were hooked. damn.

“oh i have a little something for you, give me your arm and close your eyes,” he spoke up and put his hand in his pocket.

raised eyebrow, you reluctantly closed your eyes and gave him your right arm. suddenly in fear of some bug or scary animal on your hand, you slowly retracted it back to yourself until he gently got a hold of it.

he pulled your arm towards him slightly and slipped something on around your wrist. waiting for his approval, you sat questioning what the mystery item could be.

“okay, open.” luke did a little ‘ta-da’ motion once you flickered your eyes open, adjusting to the dark yet orangish lit surrounding.

you looked down at the intricate, handsome bracelet that appeared on your wrist. it was similar to the camp necklaces but the beads were translucent with flowers imbedded into them. except for one bead that was painted a heavenly green, your favorite color.

astonished and at a loss for words, you observed the bracelet, moving around the small beads on the string.

“i’m sorry.”

snapping out of your trance, you instantly stared up at luke after his words in confusion.

“what?”

“you said earlier, ‘there are a lot of other ways to spend time with you that don’t involve us falling into freezing cold water, for starters make a bracelet and apologize.’” he repeated your words from back by your cabin. he remembered.

“so you made me a bracelet and apologize just like i said?” double-checking, you glanced once at the bracelet and back to the dashing boy who looked as if he had stars in his eyes, waiting for your reaction.

“not only for you, i also helped damien make one for that girl he’s got a crush on,” he continued and looked over to the little boy doing the exact same hold-out-your-arm-and-close-your-eyes trick on the girl sobbing about her stained skirt earlier.

she opened her eyes to a freshly washed skirt and matching bracelet, along with a smiling boy who was apologizing and waiting for her reaction. she leapt into his arms with a bunch of ‘thank yous.’ the boy then briefly peered at luke who proceeded to wink and give an approving nod.

happily surprised, you sat gaping at the boy you thought was so infuriating just a couple of hours before. luke knew exactly what he was doing. he knew how much you cared for the campers and your half-siblings, how you would always chose their safety and happiness at the expense of your very own.

it was one of the traits he admired the most about you. even when in a bad mood or not feeling your best, you would put on a brave face and make sure to put their needs in front of you own.

he witnessed it first-hand last week when your campers wanted to go rock climbing but there were dozens of poison ivy already there. thus, to not disappoint the kids, you stayed up all night removing the dangerous plant and relocating them to another area deep in the forest for them to grow.

even with your plant manipulation abilities, with the large amount of the poisonous plant, it took you quite a while. afterwards, you went as far to replace them with lovely daisies you summoned from the gardens in front of your cabin.

during the move from the rock climbing course to the forest, luke had spotted you while some late-night sword practicing because he couldn’t sleep due to apollo cabin next door.

he debated approaching you and settled on only admiring you from afar after you almost finished anyway. he didn’t want to disturb you or aggravate you further than you already were. but leaving you here in the forest during midnight would be wrong.

what if a monster were to come? how were you to defend yourself if you were distracted! therefore, it was just common sense that luke had to keep watch, i mean he even had his sword with him after all.

but once the sun peeped from the tall mountains, he came to a realization that he had just sat and watched you for more than a couple hours. so in order to not get caught, he ran off back to his cabin before anyone would wake up.

only a little after luke headed to bed, morning arrived and you were the first one to break the happy news to your campers that today would be the day for rock climbing. greatly proud and feeling accomplished, you even invited other cabins to join and have a spin at it. including luke’s.

now he was the one to show you how much he cared for the campers as well, focusing on a feature you had great respects for. your shocked expression softened and now leapt into his arms.

“thank you, castellan. really.”

blood rushed to his cheeks and he tried to hide his excitement, but you felt his genuine smile on your shoulder. before pulling away, he stopped by your ear and whispered.

“do i have permission to kiss you, counselor?”

you could’ve giggled at his words and how close his lips were to your ear. without wasting another breath, you pulled his face closer to you and put your lips on his.

feeling the warmth of his breath, you could taste the sweet taste of strawberries he must’ve eaten earlier. only centimeters away, your bodies were attracted to each other almost pressing. the kiss wasn’t long but not short either, somewhat leaving a lasting impression on the other.

yet again you felt a small grin of his lips during the kiss, making you pull away for air. but your eyes were still glued to his, moments away from repeating the act but you both realized where you were and how irresponsible it would look as counselors. so instead he grabbed your hand, now giving you the absolute cutest puppy dog eyes before asking.

“do i have your attention now?”

[envy-of-the-apple]

Infinite Rewind

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: Instead of dying, you are sent 13 years in the past, but this isn't your face. "Let's cut the shit." The white-haired kid grins. "Who are you and what're you doing in Suguru's body?"

Part two: Rewound Infinitely

Word Count: 18.1k

(Warnings: slight yandere, death, murder, inaccurate Tokyo geography, blood, violence, mild gore, obsession, unhealthy relationships, child abuse/neglect, time looping(?), fem!reader) Ageless blogs that try to follow me will be blocked

First, you saw a monster. 

It was big and horrible—nasty teeth. You heard screaming. People. Running as fast as they could away from the creatures. Pain. 

And then, you saw a bright, clear sky. 

The sun was blaring down at you. It was so hot. Wasn't it December? How was the sun out at night? 

"Hey, you good?" 

A girl is looking at you. Short brown hair. A high schooler, judging by the uniform. How is she wearing all black when the weather is so hot? 

When you don't respond, her eyes squint. 

"Suguru, are you okay?" 

That's not your name; your mouth moves faster than your brain.

"I-I'm fine." That wasn't your voice. It was deeper. More masculine. What the fuck happened to your voice? 

The girl gives you another strange look but you're too busy freaking out over your new voice. Your hands are different too. A completely different skin tone, larger. 

And then you're fumbling with your pockets, clothes you know you didn't buy. The girl is calling for you again but you're too busy pulling out a fucking flip-phone and looking into the black screen, the only thing you have for a mirror. 

Purple eyes stare back. These aren't your eyes. This isn't your nose. This isn't your hair. This isn't your face. You blink. He does too. You open your mouth. So does he. You pinch your cheek. In the reflection, he winces. 

Oh, you just fucking bodysnatched someone. 

ⴵ

Ten minutes later, you conclude that your name is Geto Suguru, you are a 16-year-old boy, the year is 2006, and you attend a religious academy. 

"You're finally acting normally again." The girl-newly discovered as Ieiri- says. "No more weirdness." 

You don't blame her, considering you grabbed her by the shoulders, asking ridiculous questions like: what year is it, who am I, why am I here, who are you, am I dead, is this Hell, etc. For a teenage girl, she took your outburst well. 

"Sorry," you say and by now you've gotten used to your voice, "it must have been the stress from studying." 

She just hums, continuing to walk beside you. Though, Ieiri had a point. You were definitely calmer, and it was mostly because you figured it out. 

You were dreaming. 

You were lucid dreaming, to be more precise. Your brain was conjuring up a weird setting and you just happened to be placed in another person's body. You heard about this happening before. You were just so freaked out because this was the first time anything like this had happened to you. 

An impulsive part of you wants to tell Ieiri that this is just a dream, but you've heard weird things happen after a lucid dreamer tries to break the illusion. It's best if you just let it just play out and see where this goes. 

“Excited?” 

“Hm?” You ask. And Shoko rolls her eyes. 

“For the mission you have this evening. Special grade. Sounds scary.” She says, her sarcasm evident. 

Mission? Special grade? You don’t know what those words mean but it sounds like a school field trip. Shoko takes your hesitance as something else. 

“Ah,” she says, “so you forgot.” 

“I didn’t.” You reply on instinct. 

“I expected this from Satoru, not you. You should stop hanging out with him, he’s starting to rub off on you.”

You give a sheepish laugh, and it’s enough to quell her questions. 

She leads you into the school, all through the winding halls and through an office door. You couldn’t be more grateful, it’s not like you would have known where to go. It’s a teachers room. Two people are already inside. 

“Wait, for once, I’m early?” The boy with sunglasses asks, voice dripping with amusement. He’s leaning dangerously on a chair. You stare at him. You’ve never seen someone with white hair before. It can’t be real. 

“He forgot.” Shoko pipes up and the boy cackles. 

“That’s hilarious. I’m starting to rub off on you.” Ah, this must be Satoru. 

You give a nervous smile. “Haha, yeah.” 

The boy stops rocking in the chair. Three pairs of eyes look at you. Your uniform feels itchy.

“Gojo, stop making such a ruckus.” The man, presumably his teacher, gruffs. "You two got the briefing yesterday. Do your job and for the last time do not leave your assistant manager behind again." 

Gojo groans, and you delve into more confusion. Before you can say anything, the kid is hopping out of his seat before lazily striding out the door. Shoko and the teacher look at you expectantly. 

Oh, you were supposed to follow him. 

Not wanting to make a scene, you catch up to Gojo. He's tall, his footsteps are long and wide. But you're tall now too, so it's easy to keep up with him. This new body of yours has a lot of pros. 

"Yaga's so annoying," Gojo suddenly says, "constantly nagging us like that. It's not our fault the assistants can't keep up." 

What should you say? You clear your throat. 

"He just wants what's best for us." 

Wrong answer. 

"Where'd that come from?" He snorts. How charming. "I know you agree with me. You're just tryna' act like the nicer one, again. It's starting to get a little old." 

Is that how 16 year-olds talk? Rude, but also strangely off-putting, like he can see straight through you. Or more accurately, he can see straight through Suguru. How close are these two, anyway? 

Why did any of these questions even matter? This is a dream! You need to wake up already. 

On the campus grounds, a sleek black car waits outside for you two. Along with a miffed man in a black suit. This must be a very rich school for a field trip to have a chauffeur. Where were you two going again?

Gojo hops in the back, taking one of the window seats. You take the other. In your own body, you would've fit nicely. But Suguru's legs are long, and the spacious car feels cramped. You should've taken the passenger seat. How do tall people live like this? 

The ride is quiet. Out the corner of your eye, you catch Satoru type away on his flip phone. A moment later, yours beeps. You still have no idea how to use Suguru's phone or his password, so you ignore his message. Satoru groans. 

Quickly, you learn that Satoru has a very low attention span. When looking out the window gets boring, he bugs the chauffeur. When the chauffeur ignores him, he starts bugging you. 

"Hey heyyyy," Satoru says, "when this is all over, we should go to that new ice cream place. Like you said, we should." 

You look at him. "Uh, sure." You say. 

"And you should pay for it, 'cuz you said you owed me last time." 

Fine, whatever. "Sure thing." 

He grins. You can't see his glasses, and it makes his smile even more unnerving. This kid. 

This doesn't feel like a normal field trip at all. Why did you stop in front of some rackety house that looked as though it were about to collapse? You turn back to the only adult in the vicinity, but he's out too. He takes out a lighter and a cigarette. In front of impressionable children, too. Wonderful. 

"I'll wait out here." He says, though his tone is uncaring. "Since we're out in the country, there's no need for a veil. Do your best." 

Veil? What? Gojo's already going off again and you've already decided to be his chaperone, so you follow. You reluctantly trail behind him. Feet crunch the leaves. The house grows bleaker and bleaker. 

"Okay, I have a plan!" Gojo exclaims when he gets through the squeaky door. He's so loud, can't he be quieter? "I check upstairs and you check the ground floor and the basement. Got it?" 

Check the house? Were he and Suguru electricians in training or something? That still wouldn't explain why a grown man decided to drop off two teenagers in front of a creepy mansion. And why in God's name did Gojo want to split up?

"I-I don't think that's a good idea," you say, "shouldn't we try to stick together?" Or, better yet, leave. 

He clicks his tongue. "Ugh, you're so lame. Not like Suguru at all." 

Wait, what did he say? You're about to call out to him when he climbs up the stairs, disappearing from view. Unbelievable. 

This kid was starting to get on your nerves. Enough, you were leaving. You could have a nice dream where you met and fell in love with Zendaya, not babysitting some teenager, whilst possessing another person's body. You were going to wait outside with the man and hope your dream finally came to an end. 

Except, you couldn't go outside. The door was gone. 

It-it was right behind you, right? The entrance was right behind you. You couldn't have gotten turned around so quickly? What the hell happened? Or maybe you had gotten turned around? Considering how distracting that Gojo kid was, you might not have realized it. 

You look around the house. Looks like it'd been abandoned for a while. There's dirt on the shelves. Chairs were toppled over and left to rot. The wooden floorboards dangerously creaked beneath you. Just what had happened here? 

There's no patio door. No door leading to the outside. At the same time, you hadn't explored everything yet. Each door led to a room. The only door that didn't, led to a basement. And no, you weren't going down there. 

When you got back to where you started, you noticed something had changed. 

There was a person. Seated right at the base of the stairs? 

Gojo? Was he done with urban exploring? Maybe he knew the way out. He stands up, reaching to his full height, then higher, then higher. 

Gojo was tall, but this thing was taller. Gojo was human. This thing wasn't. 

What the fuck you can only mouth because your voice is stuck in your throat when it takes a shaky step towards you. It's a black husk of a figure, too skinny but too tall and twitching fingers. You don't know how you could've mistaken this for the kid. 

Another step. You're running, back into the house, leaping over the fallen shelves and creaky floorboards. It gives chase, and you can hear it groan behind you. It's deep and rumbly and terrifying. It just motivates you to go faster. 

It's slower than you. That's good, but it seems to realize this. You can barely celebrate your advantage before something heavy is smashed into your back, sending you toppling to the floor. You and wooden chair crash on the ground. 

It hurts. 

Everything hurts. 

Dreams aren't supposed to hurt. Because this wasn't a dream. 

This was real. You were stuck in the year 2006, stuck in another person's body, about to get mauled by a monster. 

You were going to die. 

You aren't even fighting anymore. How pathetic is that? The shock numbs your body as the thing grows closer and closer, all you can do is reach your hands up, protecting your face. 

And then the creature explodes. 

An implosion. It's skin and bones twist in a way no one should. There's a shriek, something wrong and high and inhuman before it's gone. Like it never existed in the first place. 

After all that, he's still smiling. Like the cat that just caught the mouse. 

"I guess we're not pretending anymore, are we?" Gojo asks, stretching his arms. "That's good. That game was starting to get a little boring, anyways. Now, then." 

He folds his glasses, tucking it on his uniform. Blue, his eyes are. As blue as a clear sky. 

"Let's cut the shit." The white-haired kid grins. "Who are you, and what're you doing in Suguru's body?"

ⴵ

Contrary to your belief, Gojo Satoru is a good listener. 

There's never an interruption. Not even once. Every once in a while, he nods, a hand on his chin. It's probably because he can't interrupt. You just keep going on and on. Word vomit. 

He only speaks when you pause to catch your breath. "So you are from the year 2017, and you went back in time to body-snatch someone. I had a feeling your technique had something to do with possession." 

You look at him warily. "Wait, you knew this entire time?" 

You two hadn't moved from your earlier spot. You were still sprawled on the floor, still feeling the adrenaline surge through you. Gojo had transitioned to squatting on the floor. He scratches his neck, still so casual. 

"I have good eyes. Don't worry about it." He shrugs. "Anyway, you seem pretty harmless, and as annoying as it is not having Suguru around, I doubt killing you would do any good." Why is he being so nonchalant about murder? Is this kid really sixteen?

"I think we gotta' just wait around until your technique reactivates." Gojo whistles. "2017. That's like a decade away. I wonder what happened for your technique to show up." 

You blink, trying to remember the date. 

"It was Christmas Eve..." You glance at him. "And then I was here." 

He thinks for a moment. "Yeah, I got nothing." Of course. 

He sighs, before sprawling on the dirty floor, belly up. You grimace at his antics but choose to keep your mouth shut. 

He doesn't seem very worried. At the most, he looks mildly inconvenienced. Why isn't he worried about his friend? 

When you ask him, he just snorts. 

"Sorry, but you're not that scary. Besides, I don't have to worry about Suguru. He's strong." 

Well, that's nice to know, but one other thing still bothers you. 

"You speak so casually to me," you mutter, "You know I'm older than you, right? I'm 22." 

He laughs. "22? Damn. You're old, man." 

"That isn't old!" You argue. "You have no concept of age since you're just a teenager." And why did he assume you were a man? Oh right, you were trapped in a teenage boy’s body. Of course.

"I mean, technically, I'm older than you, right?" Gojo ponders with a grin. "If you're 22 in 2017, that makes you what—11 in 2006?" 

You say nothing because you have a feeling that if you continue to argue with him, he'll just drag you down to his insanity. 

"Technique, you've said that a couple of times." You look at him. "That's what you call your 'powers', right? Does Geto have one too?" 

"Yeah," Gojo says, "but you can't use it. You have zero cursed energy. Honestly, it's at the same level as a plant. A bit lower than regular humans. It's a little impressive, actually." For one second, could he stop being so condescending? 

"What's his technique?" You ignore his comments. "Could it be related to how I got here?" 

He gives you a look over. "I doubt that, but Suguru's technique is curse manipulation. Uh, you remember that thing you saw earlier." You nod. "Yeah, he can control and absorb them." 

He sounds pretty awesome. You look at your hands. Not your hands. Geto's hands. They're paler than yours, and a lot longer. This isn't your body. Your soul can feel it. You can feel the guilt too. 

'I'd give it back if I could,' you think, 'I just don't know how.' 

Gojo's getting up. He stretches. He was lying on the ground but you can't see a speck of dirt on his uniform. 

"Okay, then. No use mopping around." He grins down at you. "Maybe Yaga can do something about you. Let's get you back to jujutsu tech." 

You blink up at him. His hand is outstretched, reaching out to you. He's still grinning that insufferable grin but his eyes have slightly melted. 

"Okay." You say, barely touching his fingertips. "Let's-" 

And then Gojo's gone. And then, you're standing. And then it's cold. 

You're wearing a coat; weren't you wearing a uniform before? There's no clear sky. It's nearly dusk. 

You were standing on the sidewalk, where people bustled all around you. You fumble through your jackets, putting out a phone. An actual iphone. You flick on the screen. 

December 24th, 2017, 7:06.

Holy shit, you were back. 

Was it because you touched Gojo? That makes no sense, but how could you explain anything else that happened so far? God. You rake a hand through your hair. Your hand. Your hair. You can't believe how much you missed yourself. It felt so good to be back. 

Your mind is spinning, you had no idea what the fuck just happened.

For now, you just wanted to turn your mind off and grab a drink. 

You know there was a bar not too far from your location. Along the way, you pass by the bustling town. There's a couple walking side by side, giggling over something you couldn't hear. Right, it's the 24th. You remember your empty bed with no one to share it with, and you cement your desire to drown yourself in alcohol today. 

Your self-pitying session is almost how you nearly miss him. His shoulder brushes past you. You're about to apologize when you hear his voice. It's familiar. 

It used to be your voice. 

It's all there. Black hair, but it's longer this time around. Of course it is, he's had years to grow it out. He's tall, he must've grown since highschool. His broad back is the only thing you see, you're almost afraid to reach out to him. 

"Suguru...?" 

He halts in his tracks. When he turns around, it's like looking into a fractured past. He looks older, no longer a youthful teenager. You should have paid more attention to his eyes, how scrutinizing they were, how condescending his fake smile was. All that you could think of was that it was actually him. 

"Do I know you?" He tilts his head. "Apologies, but my girls and I are quite busy." 

You don't notice the two young ladies beside him until Geto points them out. Teenagers, maybe just around the age when you first met him. He was a father now. 

You're so swept up by the emotions that you barely notice they've continued walking. You stumble behind, ducking behind the alleyway they went into. 

"Wait! Geto!" You call. "Please! We need to talk!" You still needed your answers. You didn't know care how desperate you came off as. 

In hindsight, you should have noticed that they looked more annoyed than worried about a stranger chasing them across the street. 

The one with the ponytail scoffs. "This one talks an awful lot. How annoying." 

Geto sighs. He leaves his daughters, finally standing in front of you. This is what you wanted, right? A chance to talk to him. 

Still, you can't help but feel wrongness within you. His smile is off. 

"Most monkeys are just that, unfortunately." You don't move. You can't. Not when he places a hand on your skull. "I suppose it'd be humane to put this one out of its misery." 

Geto Suguru crushes your skull. And then you die. 

ⴵ

Again. You died again. 

This is the second time Geto has killed you. Fuck, you should've realized. 

"Back again, Greeny?" Gojo asks. 

He and Suguru were sitting outside in the grass. Satoru's holding up a few playing cards. You look at Suguru's hands and find yourself doing the same. 

Not again. 

"What year is it?" You ask warily. "And what did you just call me?" 

Gojo grins with teeth. You remember he compared you to a plant before, didn't he? He's so clever with nicknames; someone should give him an award. 

"Welcome back to 2006!" Gojo beams. "It's only been a couple of days since you left. And why are you so grumpy? I'm the one who just lost a player." 

You weren't grumpy, you were pissed. You figured out what's been going on with you, and it's all because of the asshole you're possessing right now.

The look on his face when he killed you. Like you were nothing more than an animal. A monkey. Now, you feel a lot less guilty about possessing his body. 

At least you figured out two things. You know how your technique works. Whenever someone kills you, you are sent back in time to take over their body. But you can go back whenever you touch Gojo, or perhaps just another sorcerer. 

Secondly, you have access to Geto's memories. 

It didn't happen the first time you died. It must have been because the kill wasn't direct (from Getos curse, rather than himself), but milliseconds after Geto split your skull in two, your brain was overwhelmed by his past, his present, as well as his future. 

Geto was set to die on December 24th, 2017. At the hands of his best friend, Gojo Satoru. 

Fuck him. Let the bastard die. You didn't give a shit. 

You reach over to touch Gojo's arm, ready to leave. He pulls back with a snicker. Ugh, the brat must've figured out your technique, too. 

"Stop messing around." You tell him. "I need to go back to my timeline." 

"Sure, sure," he says as though speaking to a time traveler is just another Tuesday. "But first, finish the game with me." 

"No." You tell him before leaning out even further. He isn't moving away anymore, but you still can't reach him. Fuck, he must've activated his technique. 

Despite your annoyance, you decide to keep the future away from Gojo's ears. He doesn't need to know that he'll be the one to kill Suguru. He shouldn't. Not at his age. He's just a kid. 

"Just one game! I promise!" He pleads. "Then I'll let you go. Suguru never lets me beat him, I want an easy opponent to boost my ego." 

You roll your eyes, but you settle down, picking up the cards. You already know the rules; you have Geto's memories, after all. 

It's silent, save for Gojo's humming. When you place down your King of hearts, you ask:

"Hey, is my cursed energy different at all?" You ask.

"Not really." He squints. "Wait, it has grown a little. Aw, Greeny sprouted!" 

So, every time you die, your cursed energy increases. That, or your cursed energy, increases every time you time travel. It doesn't matter either way. Does this mean you can use Geto's technique now? It couldn't hurt to try, right? 

There's a demon-no, they're called curses you know that now- floating beside you, just a little ways away. Small. Barely fourth grade. You stick your hand out, calling out Geto's power. There's a pull, a rush of energy. 

A blue ball drops into your hand. 

"Holy shit." Gojo leans forward. "So you can use his techniques." Surprisingly, there's no wariness in his voice. Just awe. 

"Yeah." You breathe before glancing up at him. "Shouldn't you be focused on your cards?" 

He shrugs, tossing the cards away. "What cards?" 

You sigh before staring at the ball. Well, you captured the curse. All that's left to do is swallow it, right? You can do that. You open your mouth. Gojo is still staring. You scowl. 

"Look away." 

He rolls his eyes. "It's not like I haven't seen you do this before. Well, not you, the guy that you bodysnatched." 

Ass, you keep that in your head as you hold your breath. You swallow the ball down. 

Instantly, you choke. 

It's horrible. Like a rotten carcass on the highway, oozing blood and oil and pus. You start dry-heaving, suffocating, spit dribbles down your chin. Nothing comes out. You've already absorbed it. The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows. Like swallowing a rag that was used to wipe up vomit and shit. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. 

"Is it really that bad?" Gojo observes you. "That guy swallows them down, no problem." 

Because Suguru was used to this taste. He was used to the responsibility. The hoarding mass of distraught absorbing a curse comes with. It was a disgusting art. Something he'd perfected to mask for years. Until he couldn't take it anymore. 

Fuck, you might have lost your mind, too, if you kept having to eat this. To protect people who were happy you failed. 

You snapped out of it. Suguru's memories were affecting your own. That's probably a sign that you need to get out of here. No way would you be sympathizing with someone so monstrous. 

"Hopefully, I never do that again." You slowly recover, wiping your spit away with your hand. You lean back on your hands, exhausted. 

"Something I've always wondered." You call out to Gojo. "What did Suguru ever think about someone possessing his body." 

Gojo laughed. "Funny thing. He never knew." 

"What?" You look at him. "No gaps in his memory? Nothing?" 

"Nope," Gojo said, "he remembered what happened in the house, but he thinks he did everything. And then he said something weird." 

You perk up at that. "What did he say?" 

Gojo tilts his head. Then, he shrugs. 

"I forgot." Typical. 

You pinch your nose bridge. "So, did you tell anyone else about...this?" You gesture to yourself. 

"Wait, you're supposed to be a secret?" You look at him in alarm. "In my defense, I didn't know, but I haven't gotten the chance to tell anyone. After the mission, Suguru and I went to the arcade, and then I kinda' forgot about it." 

Well, at least Gojo's arrogance works in your favor sometimes. You can't let anyone know, especially anyone connected to the higher-ups. From Geto's memories, you know they don't like anything new. It's best to stay under their radar. 

"Good, well, from now on, we're keeping it a secret. Got it?" 

"What are you two keeping a secret?" A new voice pops up. You jump. 

You know him—at least from Geto's memories. Haibara beams at you. He looks so alive in the sunlight, smiling and with bright eyes.

He'll be dead within a year or so. 

Gojo takes advantage of your shock. "The bodysnatcher wants me to promise that I won't tell anyone that a curse-user is possessing Suguru's body." 

"What the hell? You just promised that you wouldn't tell anyone!" 

"Uh, technically, I didn't promise anything yet." Gojo retaliates. "But okay, fiiiiine. I won't tell anyone....except for Haibara." You groan. 

"What's going on?" Haibara's smile fades. "Wait, Gojo, is this not Geto? Is this person actually a curse-user!?" 

"I'm not a curse-user." You correct. "I'm not a sorcerer either, for the record." 

"You just used a curse technique to travel back in time to take over someone's body." Gojo enunciates. "Sounds like a sorcerer to me." 

"Wait, you're a time-traveler, Mr. Not-Geto?" Haibara asks and you are genuinely impressed he's able to keep up. 

"The name’s Greeny, Haibara." Gojo supplements. Haibara nods, still a bit unsure. 

"So...do we fight Greeny?" 

"It's not my name." You get ignored. 

"Nah, it's all good. Greeny's harmless. Just a weakling, don’t worry about it." Rude, but you don’t think you’d want Gojo to take you as much of a threat, not after knowing what he can do.

"Oh, okay!" Haibara instantly relaxes. The kid's really trusting, huh? 

"Okay, fine, but no one else can know, got it, Gojo?" This promise doesn't matter. It's not like you're planning on returning to the past anytime soon. As soon as you return to the present, you are leaving Tokyo and escaping the night parade of 100 demons. Fuck that. You don't want to die again. 

He waves you off. "Yeah, yeah."

He's so insufferable. You don't know who's worse: the genocidal maniac or this brat. 

"Give me your hand. I want to go home." 

Haibara looks confused. "Wait, why does Greeny need your hand?" 

"It's how the curse technique works," Gojo explains. "Greeny gets sent back in time, and then my true-love's touch sends him careening forward into the future." You frown at his comment, but he turns to you before you can say anything. 

"Which reminds me, Greeny: ever figure out how your technique works?" 

No way are you telling a kid that their best friend killed you....twice. Instead, you just shrug. 

"Haven't figured it out yet." 

Gojo stares at you. "Huh." He responds. "Well, if you ever figure it out, lemme' know." 

Sure you will. You hold up your hand. Gojo, finally holds his own up. Out of the corner of your eye, Haibara waves. And then you're back in your own body, on December 24th, 2017, 7:06 pm.

You waste no time. You push at the crowd, squeezing through the hoards of people. You need to get out. You need to leave before the death parade starts, before you're trapped in that terrifying cycle of death again. 

You need to leave. 

Exorcised. Ingested. 

No no no. Shut up. This wasn't you. This was Geto's memories. 

Exorcised. Ingested.  

You need to leave. 

Exorcised. Ingested. 

You need to survive. 

The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows. 

You stop, right there in the middle of the sidewalk. People glare, cursing as they move around you. They don't know this place will be a bloodbath in a matter of minutes. They'd all die. But you could stop it. 

If only if you hadn't accessed Geto's memories. If only if you hadn't eaten that damn curse. If only if you hadn't sympathized with a murderer. Maybe you'd have the courage to escape your future. 

But you'd felt that taste. Horrible. If you eat enough, you could go insane. If you were lonely enough, that would do it too. 

The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows. No one except for you. 

At 8:06 the screams start. The monsters come out to play their song. You close your eyes, forgive Suguru, and you die once more. 

ⴵ

For once, when you open your eyes, Gojo isn’t there with you. 

You’re still on the campus of Jujutsu tech. Suguru was just about to grab his soda from the vending machine. You finish his job. The can feels cold. It feels refreshing on your tongue. It’s a momentary distraction to the fact that you have no clue what you’re doing. 

You understand your cursed technique, but you still struggle with the application. Fuck, what did you do? You were utterly fucked. You’re playing a dangerous game. If you died- if Geto died- here, what would even happen? 

 The worst part is that you can’t even think of the hypothetical because there’s no other choice. You needed to do this. To not only save the people in Tokyo from the Night Parade, but to also save Geto Suguru. The man who has killed you three times now. 

Geto’s dissent starts to worsen at Riko Amanai’s death. If you could prevent that from happening, you could probably change history. But Geto’s true fracture begins with the curses themselves. They were rotting him from the inside.

You grimace, but you have to do it. You have to eat every single curse that Geto couldn’t swallow down himself. 

One was coming up. In less than an hour, Yaga will call you and Gojo for a mission. It’ll be a special-grade grave-type curse. Dispatching it will be simple, but Geto would be the one to exorcise it, ingesting the screams of all that the curse devoured. You needed to prepare yourself for that. 

Maybe you should save some of this soda to wash the taste off later. 

“Geto!” Someone cheers, you jump, but Haibara’s already poking his head around the wall. He grins. 

“Hey! Oh, you’re not Geto, aren’t you?” He tilts his head. “Greeny?” 

“Keep your voice down,” you whisper, “wait, you can recognize me?” 

He nods, after checking to make sure no one’s around, he says, “yeah, your eyes are different? It’s hard to explain.” He tells you. 

Huh. Interesting. 

“You’ve been gone a while.” Haibara beams. “It’s been a few weeks. I’m glad you’re back, Gojo was starting to get cranky.” 

It’s probably because he had no one to mess with. Poor him. He has all your sympathies. Ass. 

“I’m glad to return as his punching back.” You mutter. 

Haibara shyly shuffles his feet. 

“So, are you really from the future?” He asks. “Was Gojo telling the truth?” 

You nod. “Haibara, you haven’t told anyone, right?” 

“Of course not!” He instantly says. “Not a soul. Not even Nanami, and I tell him everything! Your secret’s safe with me.” 

“And Gojo, too! I know he doesn’t look very trustworthy, but me and him have kept it under wraps.” 

Reluctantly, you can’t help but agree with the kid. Gojo is annoying, but so far, he hasn’t done anything super harmful. 

“So anyway, Greeny.” He clears his throat. “Considering you’re from the future and all. Would you mind telling me what my future will be like?” 

You blink at him. He takes it as a sign to continue. “Nothing much! I just wanna know what I’ll be doing in 2017. Will I finally be a grade 1 sorcerer?” 

You think of Geto’s final memories of Haibara. A child burying another child. 

“Sorry,” you lie through your teeth, “but I didn’t know you in my future. Again, I’m not really a sorcerer.” 

Haibara nods, disappointed but still very excitable. He asks you about other things about the future, and you try to answer to the best of your ability, but you can’t shake off his dead glass eyes, staring at you from the morgue. 

“Another thing, we should have a code word.” Haibara exclaims. 

You blink. “A code word?” 

“If we ever meet in the future,” he explains, “y’know, in 'Groundhog’s day', he has to keep explaining what’s happening repeatedly? In order to prevent that, we should have a secret word between eachother so I instantly know who you are.” 

Not the same exact situation, but it sounds like exactly something a child would come up with. You indulge him anyway. 

“Okay, what did you have in mind?” 

“Well, it can’t be anything too crazy, or we might attract unwanted attention.” Haibara puts a hand on his chin in serious thought. You smile. 

“Got it! If you ever see me, just yell ‘brocolli head’ really really loudly. Then I’ll know.” Haibara chirps. 

“Wait, why broccoli head?”

“Because broccoli heads are green!” Haibara chirps happily.

You’re starting to learn it’s best not to question his logic.

You nod, very amused. “Sure thing, Haibara.”  

Someone calls out his name. He jumps before he waves to you. You watch as he joins with Nanami. They talk about something you can’t hear. Haibara laughs and you decide it would be a shame if his laugh was lost to death. 

Gojo finds you eventually. You can’t hide from him forever. You were walking into the school when he caught up with you. He’d ran there. His breath was slightly ragged. 

“Greeny, couldn’t get enough last time, huh?” You shoot him a look. 

“What are you talking about? Doesn’t matter, we need to go, the missions coming up.” 

Gojo’s smile dips ever so slightly. “How’d you know about that?” 

It’s probably not a good idea to tell the guy's best friend that you’re possessing that you’ve unlocked his memories. 

“Haibara told me.” 

“Ah,” He replies, “let’s go then.” 

The car ride is different this time around. Less tension. You aren’t as confused. Gojo is seated quietly beside you, watching the scenery go by. The assistant is too preoccupied with belting the radio to notice Gojo's words. 

“Figured it out yet?” He asks. “Your technique.” 

He's persistent about that answer, isn't he? You're sure the only reason Gojo cooperates with you is because he thinks you're inhabiting Suguru's on accident. How would he react if he knew you were doing it intentionally? It's best not to get on the strongests’ bad side. 

“Oh, not really, but I think it’s random. I can’t seem to find a set pattern. Maybe Suguru calls out to me, somehow?” 

“Maybe.” Gojo replies. His time is flat. Anxiety flips through your stomach. 

“You’re different this time around,” Gojo says. 

“Am I?” You ask. “I guess I’m just more determined today.” 

He gives you a look over. "Oh yeah? What for?" 

"The curse. I'll exorcise it, today." 

You don't know how you wanted Gojo to react to that, but you're still disappointed when he turns back to the window. 

"Do whatever, Greeny." 

In the end, you do swallow the curse. You manage to hold your gags in this time. 

It's worse than before. It makes sense. This curse was first-grade. Stronger. In terms of taste, it was like curdled blood and mold. You were so grateful for that soda. 

Gojo only watches with a tilted head. 

"You're getting better at that."

You give a weak grin. 

"Practice makes perfect," you reply, "do you think I'll get strong enough to absorb a special grade soon?" 

He doesn't like your question. You can see it in his stiff expression. 

"Maybe. Why do you want to swallow up curses, anyway? Last time you were here, you were practically begging to go back." 

His response wasn't exactly hostile but far from his usual playful attitude. You knew you'd have to confront this eventually. Despite how nonchalant he acted, it's clear Satrou doesn't enjoy watching someone prance around in his friend's body like this. If he starts to dislike you, it could rupture your entire plan. You need his cooperation, more than anything, to save Suguru. 

A little bit of the truth. Just a bit. It can't hurt, can it?

"Curses taste horrible," you say, looking at the ground. You can still taste the remnants of it, "it's the worst thing in the world. I can't even explain how wrong it feels to eat one. I thought...while I'm in his body...I could maybe help Suguru a little. I could ingest the curses in his stead, so that way, he still gets to absorb it." But it'll lessen the trauma it has on his mental state. 

You can't see how Gojo feels about that. Those glasses of his cover everything. But you know he's staring at you. The six eyes are taking you apart, observing you whole. 

"Did you know Suguru in the future?" He asks. 

"I didn't." The man that killed you. The man that will keep killing you. And you'd forgive him each time. 

Another beat of silence.

Finally, he just sighs. "You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right?" 

You give a sheepish laugh.

"That isn't a compliment, by the way. You're just really reckless. And maybe stupid, Greeny." His tone isn't mean. 

"My name still isn't Greeny." You tell him. 

"Oh yeah, what's your name, then?" He's reverted back to that teasing lilt, and it almost makes you relax if you don't note the curiosity underneath. 

So far, you've been lax giving away information regarding the future, but you don't think you should continue that. What if you're too careless and the future changes in a way you didn't intend? A name, personal information, that could be way too dangerous. 

"Actually, just call me Greeny. I like that name a lot better." 

"You complained about it all the time, though?" Gojo argues. 

"It's starting to grow on me." You grin. "Grow? Get it, because you compared me to a plant and-"

"Stop stop, you really are an old man." Gojo groans. You just grin wider. Then, you grimace.

“I can still taste it.” You complain. “I’d kill for a cigarette right now.”

“I caught our assistant manager smoking a while back,” Satoru suggests. “Maybe you could go and beg him for one.”

You toss him a look. “Suguru doesn’t smoke, and I’m not giving a teenager a nicotine addiction.” You have found lighters inside Suguru’s pockets, but you have a feeling it isn’t for his own cravings.

"Hey, could you do me a favor?" 

He gives a wordless hum.

"Maybe after this, could you take Suguru out to a cafe'? I can taste the aftertaste of the curse." You shudder. "Just get him something to wash it down." 

Also, Suguru couldn't go back to his dorm after this. Suguru dissented because of his fractured relationship with everyone, not just with Satoru. You'd try to bridge the gap between him and his peers as much as you can. You go through Suguru's flip phone, asking Shoko if she wants to join the two. 

When you're done with that, you snap the phone closed. 

"Okay, I'm done here. You two have fun, okay?" You raise your hand. 

Gojo just huffs, amused. "Sure sure. By the way, someone wanted to thank you." 

You blink at that. "What?" 

He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it."

He gives you a high-five, and then you're back in 2017 in your own body. 

Temporarily. So far you figured out that you get sent back an hour before the night parade happens. 8:06. Considering you have a couple more minutes to kill before you’re killed, you reach into your pocket for that cigarette you’ve been craving. You pick the first out of the box, cherry burns just out of corner of your eye.

You notice things now. The children giggled to their parents. Old couples gingerly held hands with sweet smiles. You'd save them, but first, you need to save Suguru. 

And do really do that, you'd have to save Riko. 

Easier said than done. You could go back in time, but you can't really control when to go back in time. It's been random, but your trips are typically two days away from each other. You can work with that. 

But in order to get to Riko's death, you'd have to die...a lot. Absorbing curses made Suguru lose his mind, but how well would you fare with dying over and over again? 

"Hungry?" 

Someone looms over you. A woman. She's pretty, with short hair and bangs. In her hand, she holds a bag of chips. 

"The vending machine gave me an extra." She gives a laugh. She kind of sounds like you. "Would you like one?" 

"Oh." You take it. "Thanks." 

"Don't mention it." She trots off into the crowd. You watch her.

A stranger's act of kindness. She didn't even know what would happen to her soon. You grip the bag, it crinkles in your grasp. 

It didn't matter how well you'd fare with dying over and over again. You'd get over it. So many innocent people depended on you. You can't just abandon them like this. 

You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right? It's aggravating how accurate he is, honestly. 

The screams start up again, and you forgive Suguru. 

ⴵ

It takes a few cycles to finally reach the day Amanai Riko is assassinated. Whenever you deem yourself too early, you often accompany Gojo on a mission and exorcise a special-grade curse. Your overall plan is working, bit by bit. Each time you return, Suguru's memories swarm you. Each curse he remembers as less painful. 

It's why you get worried when you get there a little too late. 

"Something wrong?" Riko asks. 

You've stopped in the middle of the hallway, and of course, they're looking at you strangely. You know this place. Tengen's barrier is just an elevator ride away. Suguru, Riko, and Miss Kuroi were all almost there.

Fushiguro Toji has already arrived. 

In the first timeline, Geto leads the girls all the way down to Tengen's barrier. He puts his trust in Gojo. Of course, he would. They're the strongest. And in the end, Gojo does kill Toji. 

But the kill comes too late. Riko still dies, and the fracturing happens. 

You thought you'd have more time. If you had arrived a bit earlier, you could have fought with Gojo, and the chances of defeating Toji would have significantly increased. 

What do you do?

"What's the matter?" Miss Kuroi asks. She's supposed to die today, too. 

"Sorry, ladies." You smile. "But I need to go back for him." 

You don't answer their calls, running back up the hallway. The sun's bright, shimmering beautifully in the sky.

It contradicts the blood dripping all over the stone floor. 

Gojo's lifeless body is draped across the rubble. It's a horrifying sight. Eyes that were once like the sky are just this empty blue. A dead sea. He isn't breathing. You know, if you touched his wrist, you wouldn't feel a heartbeat. 

"Hate to break it to ya', but the Gojo kid's dead." Toji's right behind you. You can feel him grinning. 

You know Gojo isn't dead. At least, he won't be dead for a while, but seeing the boy who used to tease you, annoy the shit out of you, laugh at you, be so....it made you freeze. Falter. 

You were wasting time. 

"Sorceror killer." You say after a minute. You almost can't bring yourself to turn, to look at him. The man who kills Gojo. The man who could've killed Suguru, but chose not to. "You certainly live up to your name." 

Toji's grin widens. The only man in the world with zero cursed energy. It'd be awe-inspiring if it weren't so terrifying. 

It's funny. You weren't afraid of dying, not anymore. You were afraid of failing. Failing when you were so close, when victory was just a blink away. 

"The flyheads." You mention to the swarms of curses all around you. "That's really smart." It gives you an idea or two. 

You have Suguru's memories, but they aren't always concrete. You just have snippets. A general idea of what happened within a certain event. It makes sense. Humans can't remember everything. 

But regarding the memories of Suguru and Fushiguro, everything is crystal clear. It's almost like you were there when it happened. 

It also means that you know Suguru, at this current level, won't be able to defeat Fushiguro. 

But Suguru doesn't need to beat the sorcerer killer; he just needs to hold him off. 

Currently, Suguru's body contains 368 curses: 3 special grades, 24 grade ones, 33 grade twos, 103 grade threes, and 205 fourth grades. 

You release all 368 of them. 

In another timeline, these curses would look to you as something to devour. Today, these curses have a new target. 

It won't stop Fushiguro. You're not dumb enough to think that. But it should give you time. Hopefully, it'll be enough time. 

Your knees hurt when you collapse next to the corpse. Gojo's so beautiful, even when he's dead. 

"Gojo." You shake him. Nothing happens. "You need to wake up. Gojo." 

Nothing happens. You don't know what caused Gojo to become the strongest, Suguru wasn't there. For once, you are blind to the past. 

"Riko needs you. Wake up. You-you need to go and save her and Miss Kuroi." 

His body's so cold, and you know he's dead because when you touch his skin, you don't wake up in the present. You push against his body, and he falls limply right back to place. You're sure this sight will haunt you for the rest of your life. 

"Satoru." You beg. "It's Greeny. Please, please, please wake up."

 Nothing happens. 

Everything happens. 

The brightest blue you've ever seen. It's heavenly. A glow that warms and chills your skin. It takes a while for you to see again. When you do, Satoru is standing. 

Somehow, his eyes are even brighter. You don't think you're looking at a teenage boy anymore. 

You're sitting in front of God. 

"Greeny." he states, voice flat. "You're late." 

You manage to smile.

"Sorry." 

You’ve seen Satoru fight before. He’s always calm, body relaxed as he practically floats in the air. Those fights differed from Suguru’s memories—post Satoru’s awakening. There’s always this twinge of desperation. An aftertaste of bloodlust.

But seeing it for yourself is something else entirely. Even with Suguru’s heightened senses, you still can’t follow him. He’s barely a mirage. One milisecond you can see a blue flash, the next you see nothing.

It's barely a fight. Not this time around. Fushiguro is completely unmatched. There's a flash of purple. And then, it's over. 

Fushiguro is in shambles. You didn't realize he was human until he started to bleed and shatter. Parentage over labor. It's sobering, in a way. 

Satoru's mouth moves. You're too far away to hear anything. They stand there for a few more seconds until Fushiguro slumps. Then, he falls.

You wonder when you got so desensitized to death. 

Gojo stands there. You should let him compress, but the clock is ticking. You need to do one more thing before you can let Suguru go. 

"You need to go." You say when you're close to him. He doesn't acknowledge you. "Riko's about to enter Tengen's barrier." 

He looks at you right then. His eyes. They're so bright, but they're strangely lifeless. Like he can't process you, your words. 

"I can see you now," he says, "it was so foggy before, but now, you're crystal clear." 

Six eyes look at you. You don't think you're hiding behind Suguru's face anymore. 

You clear your throat. 

"Gojo." You remind him. "Riko. You need to stop her." 

He blinks back into focus, rising from his high. 

"Oh," he says after a moment, "right." 

You stop him before he can walk any further. You hold out your hand. 

"You and Suguru." 

For the first time in a while, Gojo hesitates to send you back. You wait a couple seconds longer. 

"Yeah," he finally says.

His skin still feels cold. 

ⴵ

This death is a lot more painful than the others. 

The curse that's holding you is more intelligent than its predecessors. It keeps you alive, tearing at your skin, feasting on your flesh. Blood is everywhere. You scream until it rips out your vocal cords. It's almost a mercy to just die. 

You forgive Suguru. 

ⴵ

Time skips a lot faster now. 

You stand in 2006, four months after the death of Fushiguro Toji. It takes a second for Geto's memories to kick in. What you see makes you nearly cry in relief. 

Gojo and Geto made it in time. You can still remember the tears spilling down Riko's cheeks, the smile on her face when Geto asked her if she wanted to go back. They were safe. They were home, with each other. 

You did it. You actually managed to pull it off. 

But you can't celebrate, not yet. From what you can gather from Suguru's memories, Geto defects after four years. You've just held off the eventual. 

It's nearly the middle of December. The air feels a bit chillier. You stay on that bench where Suguru once occupied. He was finishing his lunch. Usually, he'd eat with Satoru, but Satoru wasn't on campus these days. 

Right, you weren't finished with your work, yet. There was still one other issue. Suguru went on missions alone these days. Swallowing curses, letting them fester and rot in his body. It's isolating and grueling work. You might have been able to help him with the absorption, but your aide won't be enough to prevent his eventual downfall. 

You'll have to deal with his natural isolation. To do that, Suguru will have to make friends with people who aren't Satoru. 

Suguru does have friends, but he's the closest to Satoru. Considering Satoru is getting busier each passing day, Suguru needs to broaden his horizons a bit. 

It's a good thing this school is filled with such colorful characters. 

Haibara and Nanami were sitting in the back of the school. From Geto's memories, their dynamic was interesting. Haibara was definitely more outgoing than the two, but Nanami seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. They looked out for each other, in that way. 

Ah, Shoko was there, too. You haven't seen her since your first day. Her hair's grown longer. It lightly brushes her shoulders now. The cigarette in her hand burns a cherry red. 

Your reaction is rooted in Suguru's instinct than anything on your part. You reach out, taking the cigarette and stomping on the embers. 

"You shouldn't smoke in front of kids." You tell her, hoping she didn't read too much into your action.

Shoko scoffs, but to your satisfaction, she doesn't take out another one. 

"We're just one year below you." Nanami retaliates, but he looks more at ease now that the cigarette's out. 

"Did you finish lunch already, Geto?" Haibara asks kindly, then he takes a closer look. "Greeny?" 

You suck air through your teeth, giving Haibara a scathing look. Instead of looking exasperated, Nanami looks confused. 

"What's Greeny?" Nanami asks, and Haibara weakly laughs. 

"It's-uh-my new nickname for the tree that's growing over there!" He wildly points to something just behind you. "'Cuz it's so...green!"

"Of course." You note the hint of affection laced within his tone. 

"When'd you get back?" Haibara recovers with eagerness. 

"Recently." You grin. "Nice to see you again." 

"You saw him this morning," Nanami interjects, and you shrug. When he frowns, you know you pulled off a perfect Suguru impression. 

Suguru melds into the conversation perfectly. Haibara says something funny, Shoko and Suguru agree, Nanami disagrees. It's a lovely little cycle that ends when Nanami grumbles and picks himself up to go. Shoko starts to follow suit when you stop her. 

"Your hair's nice." You tell her. 

She hums, grabbing a strand to study it. You can see hints of dark circles beginning to form under her eyes. She looked livelier when you first met her. Curses have been popping up left and right since Fushiguro's death. Everyone is overworked, but Shoko looks like she's getting the brunt of it. She's one of the only people who can use RCT on others, and there aren't many healers on her level. All of the strongests share one thing in common it seems. 

"Pretty soon, it'll be longer than yours," Shoko replies. You smile in response. 

"Where are you going?" You ask. 

"Dorm," she replies, "I'm behind on paperwork." 

You had a feeling she always was. You gave a look of sympathy, but misery loves company. 

"I have some work too," You 'remember' the piles of papers lodged on Suguru's desk, "Maybe we can do it together later. The cafe right next to campus? It'll be my treat." 

She looks at Suguru. Her eyes are a pretty color. 

"Sure." She shrugs. "see you then." 

You feel your heart thump twice in your chest and decide that your work here is done. 

Haibara stares at Shoko's disappearing back. The forehead flick comes from both you and Suguru. 

"That hurt." Haibara whines. 

Good, you inwardly think. 

"Sorry." You tell him. He rubs his head, and you wonder if this is how kicking a puppy feels like. 

Luckily for you, Haibara recovers quickly. 

"You've been gone for a while." Haibara tilts his head. "What happened?" 

You can't exactly control your technique, it's more like it has a mind of its own, placing you exactly where you need to be placed. Instead of answering, you sigh, leaning against the wall. 

"Timeline gimmicks." You tell him tiredly. "It's hard to explain." He frowns, but he takes it as an answer.

"Do you know when Gojo's coming back?" You ask. "I think it's time for me to go back again." 

In previous time travels, you and Haibara tried to see if any physical contact would be enough to send you back. No matter how many times you two high-fived, shook hands, or even held hands. Nothing worked. Only Gojo Satoru could activate your technique. It must have something to do with the amount of cursed energy another person has. 

“He should be getting back later this evening.” Haibara muses. “But I’ll be happy to keep you company!”

It's nice to hear him chatter. If you'd let him, he'd go one and one. But you like hearing him talk about his sister. Apparently, she’s also a sorcerer, and his affection for her makes you smile.

"You remind me a lot of her, actually." He tells you. "Even though, y'know, you're a man." It's enough to get a laugh out of you. 

“Do you have anyone in your family who can see curses?” Haibaracasks.

“No,” you answer honestly, “at least, not that I can tell. My dad never spoke of curses or strange powers when I was growing up.”

You think he would have said something; after all, you two were too close to have secrets from each other. Your father was a single man, who took to raising you himself after your mother passed away. He often said you had her laugh.

“Maybe you’re one of a kind,” Haibara suggests.

You agree with him.

Gojo finds you before you can find him. He comes up to you with a grin and a wave.

“Hey, long time.”

His sunglasses are tilted down. You can see his eyes. They’ve lost the mania he had in his fight with Fushiguro. You’re relieved at that. You still can’t shake off that strange thing he said to you.

Wordlessly, you raise your hand. Satoru frowned.

“You wanna leave so soon? You just got here.”

“I’ve been here for hours,” you tell him, “also, you aren’t very concerned that someone is using your best friend’s body as a puppet.”

“He’s been through worse,” Satoru tells you off with a wave. Some friend.

“Let’s go to the arcade,” he suggests.

“Do that with Suguru.” You tell him. “I’m not hanging out with a high schooler.”

“Right right, my bad. I keep forgetting you’re an old man, Greeny.”

“22 is not old,” you say with exasperation, “didn’t your birthday just pass? You’re just five years away. I’ll see your attitude change, then.”

He grows quiet. You feel like you messed up somewhere.

“How did you know about my birthday?”

Fuck, you keep forgetting about keeping Suguru’s memories a secret. It takes everything within you to just relax.

“Haibara told me,” you say, “blabbermouth. You know him.”

“Oh.” Gojo replies. “Huh.”

You shuffle your feet. Distantly, you wonder what shoe size Suguru wears.

“How did your mission go?”

“Horrible,” he’s instantly back to his usual self, whiny and complaint, “and the curse was so ugly too. It was oozing goo everywhere.”

You frown. “Sounds gross. But you won, right?”

He doesn’t even answer. You secretly admire his sheer confidence. You certainly weren’t that when you were at his age.

“How’s Amanai and Miss Kuroi?” You ask.

“Safe.” He tells you. “The higher-ups weren’t really happy with us after that; pretty sure all these sudden missions are punishments.” He frowns. “But they’re fine. Miss Kuroi officially adopted her, so she’s a Kuroi now, too.”

You smiled. You already knew all that, but it’s nice to hear it.

“You saved them,” he says.

You laugh, “I didn’t do a thing.” You tell him. “You and Suguru did all the heavy lifting. I just caused some property damage.”

“You did.” He replies. “I don’t know how, but things always manage to work out whenever you’re around.”

You don’t like how he phrases that, but you don’t react.

“You think so? Maybe I’m lucky.” It’s supposed to be a joke of some kind. Neither of you laugh.

“You really don’t know us in the future?” He asks.

Maybe you should’ve asked Shoko if you could have a cigarette.

“I really didn't,” you say, “Honest, I—I have no idea what’s happening. I’m just as lost as you. Hopefully, I can figure out how to control my technique, and you won’t have to see me again.”

You never stopped feeling guilty for doing this to Suguru. Controlling him. Forcing him to laugh with his friends, make decisions based on your feelings rather than his. But you’re so close. You promise yourself that once you fix everything, you’ll never cause someone this much pain again. No matter how many times they kill you.

Satoru’s fists tighten. He looks even more upset at your response.

“That’s not what I—” He cuts himself off. You wait. Satoru says nothing more.

“You’re annoying.” He tells you in the end. It’s clean and cut, but it sounds like him. More confident, less wavery. “And stupid too.”

You can’t help but smile.

“Thank you. Am I done entertaining you now? Can I go?” He grumbles, holding up his hand.

“Yeah, sure, Greeny.”

ⴵ

You forgive Suguru.

ⴵ

Something’s wrong.

You can feel it. Something’s wrong.

You look through Geto’s memories. There’s nothing. Everything’s going as it should be. Everything looks perfect. Then, why do you feel so wrong?

Currently, Suguru was finishing excorcising a curse. You absorb it, swallowing down the remnant like it’s a pile of rusted nails but even the disgusting taste isn’t enough to wash away the feeling of dread.

The walls of the hospital was empty. The auxillary managers had already cleared everyone out by the time Suguru had walked in. Maybe it was the silence that added to your stress?

You walk out. Nothing changes. One of the managers comes up to you with a clipboard.

“The curse was exorcised.” Suguru tells them. “It wasn’t first grade, it was special grade. It was still disposed of.”

He curses, scribbling something down on his clipboard.

“The wrong information again.” He hisses to himself. “If we keep doing this, someone will die. We need more people, we’re way too stretched out.”

Those words are familiar. Hold on.

“Wait, what day is it?” You ask the frazzled-looking manager.

Offhandedly, he responds. He says the date so casually, and yet his mere words feel like a bear trap, tightening on your leg.

No. You should have had more time. Why weren’t you given more time?

Nanami and Haibara have probably already been dispatched. You go through Suguru’s phone, finding Haibara’s contact. It doesn’t go through. Nanami doesn’t pick up either.

You won’t make it in time. Even using Suguru’s curses, you won’t be able to reach them until it’s too late. Suguru’s memory of that day is muddled and dark, but Haibara’s dead corpse laying on the examination table. The pieces of him that Nanami could bring back.

You wouldn’t be fast enough.

He picks up on the second ring.

“...What’s up?”

“It’s Haibara.” You spit the words out as fast as you can. “Satoru, you need to go and get him right now, he isn’t going to make it—”

“—Greeny?” The exhaustion in Gojo’s voice is gone. You can hear something rustle behind him.

“Satoru, listen to me.” You beg. “Haibara and Nanami were just dispatched on a mission, but Yu isn’t going to survive it. It wasn’t a second-grade curse; it was a first grade. Please, you have to go and save him before it kills him.”

It’s silent. It feels like hours have passed when you know it’s just three seconds.

“We’ll talk later, Greeny.” The line clicks.

You’ve lost the trust of the strongest.

ⴵ

The future has changed when you get to campus. Haibara’s status is still alive. Barely. But he’s still there. Shoko’s currently taking care of him.

Nanami remains quiet the entire time since he returned with Haibara’s battered body. The only thing you can think of to offer comfort is to pat his shoulder. He barely even registers it. It’s more for you than for him. You’re self-soothing, taking care of something else, so you don’t have to recognize your own panic.

If Haibara dies, right here, on this day, everything can change. Everything can go back to the way it was in your original timeline. Haibara, with his sunshine, smiles, and bright eyes. His death is so important, and you can’t even think of him right now.

Gojo Satoru knows you’ve been deceiving him.

This is bad. So very bad. If he starts to suspect that you know more than you let on, he might deem you enough of a threat to kill, regardless of whether or not you’re in Suguru’s body. It’s not like that hasn’t stopped him before.

Gojo Satoru is selfless. He’s selfless enough to kill his best friend, if he thinks it will save everyone.

But if Gojo kills Geto here and now, would that really be bad?

You’d lose your path to the past, but the threat to your life would be over. Even if you did die in Suguru’s body, at least the people of Tokyo will be spared the Death Parade. You’ll still get what you want. And it will be much easier than your current plan.

Nanami shuffles behind you and you instantly snap out of it. That wasn’t you. It couldn’t have been you. That same lack of apathy when Fushiguro died in front of you.

It seems like dying over and over again caused you to lose bits of your humanity.

Shoko comes out. Nanami stands up, a tall ball of nervous energy. Shoko removes her mask. Her dark circles have grown even more prominent. She’s only 17.

“He’s still alive.” Nanami sags. “But he isn’t responsive. I’ve done all that I can.”

She looks at Nanami, and then she can’t anymore.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Nanami rasps, the most emotion you’ve ever seen from him, “don’t apologize. It was my fault. I should’ve taken better care of him.”

You swallow. It wasn’t his fault, you wish you could tell him that it was yours.

You wonder what Haibara’s younger sister looked like. A spitting image of him, perhaps. Shorter. Darker hair, bigger eyes. Their smiles would look identical. What would she look like when she’s told her brother died doing the profession he forbade her from doing?

You can’t do that to her. You can’t be the reason she loses her brother the second time.

You’re not sure if a God is even out there. How could there be? What kind of entity would do something like this to you? Still, you sit on that bench, right outside the room where Haibara’s body lay, and you pray for a God.

Gojo’s footsteps stop right in front of you.

It’s hard to get the words out. For a minute, he just stands there.

“Did you exorcise it?” You finally ask.

“Yeah.”

You lift your head up to look at him. Even in his school uniform, he’s regal to look at. Like a warrior of the sun, blessed by the moon, sent to vanquish beasts and monsters.

Now, his blood-soaked sword is pointed at you.

Make it quick. You can only think. Just make it quick.

“Not here.” You say.

Nanami was still shaking. Shoko was right beside him. So you stand, you drag yourself away from Haibara’s fading presence, and Gojo follows behind.

It shouldn’t be this pretty outside. The sun is bright, and the sky is clear. There should be rain. Enough rain to drown the Earth.

“I figured out your technique a while ago, y’know.” You don’t look at him. You can’t. “Dying. Death activates your technique. Each time you die, you’re sent back 12 years in the past.”

You grip the fabric of your uniform until your knuckles turn white. Satoru’s cruel enough to continue.

“But I never got why your soul kept possessing Suguru’s body. It always felt kinda’ random. Unless he was the one who was killing you. Over and over again.”

“Gojo. Stop.” You beg.

“That’s how your CT works. Every time you’re murdered, you go back in time so you can kill them when they’re at their most emotionally vulnerable moment. It’s a pretty powerful technique, all things considered. I might not even stand a chance against it. Assisted suicide, never expected that from you of all people.

But you never do. Each time Suguru kills you, you just come back and try to save him and everyone else your hands can reach. I can’t get why you did that.”

He steps in front of you so you can see him. The God that he is.

“Let’s cut the shit, Greeny. Tell me what future is so bad you’re willing to die over and over again to prevent it.”

The worst outcome you could have ever thought of was standing right in front of you.

Satoru was demanding to know his future.

And...you couldn’t.

You’re taking in a shaky breath. It’s not enough oxygen. The sky was close to crumbling, and you still couldn’t breathe.

“There’s nothing to know.” You try. “There’s nothing, I’m fixing it—”

“—by Suguru killing you, or is this considering killing yourself, now?”

“You don’t understand.” Your voice is cracking, so high-pitched that even Suguru’s vocal cords can’t keep up. “You don’t get it. You can’t.”

“Then help me understand.” His voice is as ragged as yours, he steps closer, you step back. “Tell me why my friend would do something like this to someone.”

It clicks right then. Satoru’s anger isn’t directed at you.

No, it’s directed at Suguru.

It’s even worse than you thought.

“He—he was better than me. He was supposed to be the best out of all of us. I wanna deny it all that I can but—but I can see the proof right here in front of me. And—And I don’t—” His voice breaks too much to continue. 

You’re breaking, too. How many times have you been doing this, over and over again? All alone, with no one to support you. To comfort you.

The words are right there, threatening to bubble out. It’d be so easy to tell Satoru everything.

And maybe you would’ve, but then you looked at him.

Despite how disingenuous Satoru acted, you knew he was kind. The kindest person you’ve ever met. He’d sit there and listen, and he’d break every bone in his body to help. That’s just how he was.

Satoru was selfless, he was selfless enough to kill his best friend here and now if it meant he’d save the millions in Tokyo.

You can’t put another burden on the strongest.

You can’t do that to a kid.

“It—it isn’t him.” You manage to spit out. “He isn’t doing it on purpose. It’s not his fault.

It’s the curses. They were too much for him; they overtook his body. Suguru couldn’t control them anymore.”

He says nothing. It’s like you’ve put a spell on Gojo somehow, freezing him in place. Satoru can’t do anything but stare at the talking puppet that’s his best friend.

“He lost so many people.” You continue. “Riko, Miss Kuroi, Haibara. He couldn’t take it. It was too much. His body succumbed to the curses, and they took over Shinjuku. That’s how I keep...”

It’s okay to lie like this, you justify to yourself. Because the Suguru, you know—the one with fake smiles, beady eyes, and a broken expression—isn’t the one that Satoru knows. They’re two completely different people. Years—timelines—apart from each other. They aren’t the same.

Even then, you forgave both Sugurus a lifetime ago.

You’d get on your knees if you know that would make a difference. You’d plead and beg and cry if it would get Satoru to drop it. In the end, you can only stare at him.

“All I’m asking is that you trust me.” You whisper. “Believe that I’m making this right. Please, Satoru?”

His eyes. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s gone quiet and dull. The same look he had when he fully awakened his technique. The day he became God.

But he’s not a God. God’s don’t cry.

He leans ever so closely until his head rests on your shoulder. His body shakes.

“You’ll save him, right?” He asks. Gone, is his aura of confidence and resilience. He’s nothing more than a shell. If you feel something stain Suguru’s uniform, you say nothing about it.

You smile anyway.

“I will.” You tell the truth. “I will save him.”

You think of something morbidly funny.

“I’ll die trying.”

His shoulders shake with quiet, genuine laughter, the kind that’s wet and sticks to the top of your mouth.

“That’s fucked up, Greeny.” He whispers.

You hum, reaching up to pat him on the back. It takes another minute before he gathers himself up. His eyes are shiny. Satoru blinks it away.

“Haibara will be okay.” He says with such conviction. “I’ll take care of him. I’ll take care of Suguru, too.”

He doesn’t get it, not yet. He doesn’t understand that Shoko and Satoru and Haibara and Nanami need him. He’ll get it soon, though. You managed to put Suguru on the right path.

For now, it’s all you can do. 

“I know you will.” 

He scoffs, right then. 

“You’re really annoying, you know that? Next time, don’t piss me off like that. Just tell it to me straight.” 

Rely on me. Lean on me.

“I’m sorry,” you say and you truly are, “I won’t leave you in the dark from now on. I guess I just forgot that I had a friend in 2006.” 

His eyes get a little brighter. “It’s actually 2007—” 

“Shut up.” He laughs and it sounds like him again. 

You reach out your hand and his grin fades, the tiniest bit. He mirrors you, regardless. 

This time, you hesitate.

“You should learn how to be selfish every once in a while.” You tell him. “I won’t fault you if you’re selfish. I don’t think anyone will.

He doesn’t answer that, but his touch is finally warm.

ⴵ

It hurts. It hurts so much. Blood seeps into the pavement. You can hear the curse laughing. It sounds like him.

You forgive Suguru. 

ⴵ

It’s today. 

You can feel it. You don’t even have to look at the date to know.

The catalyst for December 24th, 2017.

Suguru’s already dressed. You’re currently standing in front of a shotty mirror, watching your reflection.

He looks tired. His smile’s a bit muted. You notice a scar you hadn’t seen before. An unregistered special grade curse, Suguru’s memory gives.

He’s different from when you saw him a year ago, but there’s still a spark in his eye. You cling to that hope, as hard as you can.

You step out of the room. It isn’t Suguru’s. He’d rented accommodations with an older woman and her son for the mission. Their place smelled like home. It made your stomach turn.

She smiles when she sees you coming down stairs. She looks kind; she has the eyes of a mother. You’ll never understand how a person who raised children could do something like this to another.

“Mr. Geto.” She chirps. “I’m so glad you’re awake! Would you like anything to eat?”

“No, I’m fine.” Better get this done sooner than later. “I should be heading back now, anyways.”

Suguru had already absorbed the curse tormenting the village last night. You can feel the sticky aftertaste in your mouth. He should have left the village yesterday, but the people were insistent he stayed one last day as thanks, feeding him all they could.

Now, it’s obvious that it was a way to butter him up for today.

Her smile grows a bit nervous. She shuffles her feet a bit.

“If it isn't too much.” She starts. “The head of our village asked if you could look at something.” Her eyes darken into disgust.

You fight to keep your smile.

“Of course. Please, lead the way.”

It’s worse than you ever could have imagined.

You’ve seen this play out so many times in Suguru’s memories. He reminisces about this moment a lot. Because of that, you knew this scene too, like the back of your hand.

And yet, seeing two children huddled together on the floor. Nothing could prepare you for that.

The village head is saying something. The woman who Suguru roomed with is yelling at the scared kids, but you can’t hear any of that.

Their clothes were dirty and ripped. Their cheeks were hollow, and they looked like they hadn’t eaten for days. Himiko’s eye looks swollen.

The twins.

The first time you saw them, they stepped aside and let Geto kill you. There’s something oddly poetic about you being on the other side.

They tremble as they continue to look at you, flinch whenever that woman raises her voice. They must think Suguru’s here to kill them.

They’re too young to think like that. They’re too young to see the horrors of this world so soon.

It’s a mistake to look towards the end of their cell. Dirty water and dog food.

How could a human do this to them? How could a mother do this to them?

You feel red. It coarses through your blood, your veins, your soul. It feels like there’s lava right underneath your skin. Shuddering, tittering anger.

There’s more than enough fire to burn down an entire village.

‘Suguru,’ you think to your companion, your tormentor, ‘I think I’m starting to get it now.’

You reach for the bars of the cell. The twins shrink away.

“Ah! Mr. Geto, you musn’t get too close to them—”

“I’ll take them.”

“What?” The head of the village asks.

“The children.” You straighten yourself up. “I’ll take them off your hands.”

It’s pointless to do anything to these people. They’re delusional enough to think that they’re in the right. By torturing these children, they’re protecting their own. It’s fear. That’s all it ever was. Even without a curse, it’ll fester on and on until this village is nothing but abandoned homes. There’s no point to punish these people any further.

If you look at the adults a bit too long, you’re afraid of what you’d do, even without Suguru’s interference. Instead, you focus on Himiko and Nanako, looking into their wary gazes. Their hands are so tiny. You could protect them with your own.

When you got out of this backward village, you’d find them something to eat.

ⴵ

You go to Shoko first.

She looks surprised to see the twins. You can’t imagine why. Still, her voice is calm when she speaks to them, setting both of them up in the clinic room. Since you got them into the car, Nanako and Himiko seemed to calm down. Himiko even told you the name of her doll.

A little while later, Yaga comes for a visit. He’s the principal now. Usually, his voice is filled with gruff, but he’s oddly gentle when he speaks to them. Nanako cracks a shy smile.

You can’t escape the ‘we’ll talk later’ look he gives you. Inwardly, you sympathize with Suguru. But a harsh lecture is better than being branded a murderer.

He hasn’t come by, yet. With the twins aided for, you decide to go find him yourself.

Walking through campus feels a little nostalgic. The grounds of the infamous jujutsu technical college are a bright green. It’s summer again. You’ve met so many colorful characters since your time here. You’ve only seen snippets, mere seconds of their lives, and yet it feels like an entire lifetime.

He’s sitting on a bench when you finally see him, nursing a drink. He doesn’t acknowledge you. You have to roll your eyes at his childish behavior, plopping down beside him.

“Hey.” You say first.

“Heard you adopted two kids,” Satoru says, “Never thought Suguru would be a teen mom, but here we are.”

You laugh, light and breathless. The sky is so pretty today.

“I don’t think he’d have it any other way, personally.” You respond.

He reminisces on your words.

“This happened before too?” He asked.

It did. It was a lot less of a happy ending, however.

“Yeah,” you say regardless, “he took good care of them last time. He’ll do the same in this timeline too. I’m sure of it.”

And this time, he’d have help. Shoko, Satoru, his teachers. They’d all be there for him. Suguru’s memories haven’t changed yet, but you know the future you step into will be a different one.

“In any case, I’m glad I got to see jujutsu tech one last time. It’s a beautiful campus.”

“You act like you’re leaving,” Satoru says, uncaring. “You’ll just come back again next month. Or next year.”

You play with your fingers.

“I...won’t be doing that from now on.”

He pauses. Then, he looks at you.

“What?”

You can’t gauge his reaction, but he doesn’t look happy. You find this a bit hard to swallow.

“I fixed the future.” You smile at him. “I finally did it. Suguru won’t break. Himiko and Nanako won’t lose their father. You won’t lose a friend, anymore. There’s no reason for me to keep coming back. You’re all free.”

You phrased the last part as a joke, but Satoru isn’t laughing.

“Wait, you’re leaving? You’re...leaving leaving.”

You nod. “I can’t believe it either.” You still can’t believe you accomplished everything you set out to do. A task that seemed so impossible, now you’re standing on the other side of it.

It wasn’t truly over. Not really, but you were able to get Suguru through the worst of it. Now, you were sure Satoru and Shoko would take up your mantel, pushing Suguru through the finish line. Just like he’ll do to them.

Satoru’s quiet.

“You seem happy.” He notes.

“Well, I did just save everyone, I think I deserve to feel a little good about myself.”

For a moment, you want to ask if it’ll be okay to visit everyone in the future. To see how Shoko and Suguru and Satoru are doing as adults. You stop yourself. Of course, they wouldn’t want to see you. You needed to stop being so greedy.

This, was more than enough.

“Will you at least tell me your name?” Satoru asks.

“You know I can’t do that.” You tell him with a smile.

“Right right.” He laughs, it sounds hollow. “Time travel, bullshit. Makes sense.”

“I’ll miss you.” You tell him.

He straightens himself up.

“I’ll miss you too, old man.” He responds. “You were a lotta’ fun to mess with.”

For once, you aren’t offended by the old man’, comment. If anything, it feels somber.

“Can I ask for some advice?” He suddenly asks. “Y’know what they say, ask the old and wise or whatever.” Okay, now he was starting to push it.

“What is it?”

It’s his turn to shuffle with his fingers.

“What would you do if...there’s something you really want, but no matter how fast you run, you just can’t catch up to it?”

You glance at him. He looks earnest. Did something like that even exist for Satoru?

“Something I can’t catch up to?” You ponder out loud. “I guess I’d have to make a big enough ruckus to where it has no choice but to look back.”

He frowns. “That makes no sense. You’re growing senile.”

You laugh. You’ll miss this brat.

You wish you could stay more. You wish you could ask about Haibara, and Shoko, and Nanami, but the clock is ticking.

Suguru’s getting impatient.

“Bye, Satoru.” You reach out your hand.

He scrutinizes it, before clasping it within his own.

“Yeah, Greeny.”

Within a blink, you’re back again in the middle of Shinjuku. December 24th, 7:06 pm.

It’s the same as always. People bustle around you. Children’s laughter. Everything always repeats itself, but you don’t think you can ever get sick of it. You’ll savor this peace for as long as you can.

You reach into your pocket, flicking out a lighter and the first cigarette of the box. You don’t know why you always chose this one. Despite outmaneuvering time itself, perhaps it’s within human nature to follow what’s written stone.

You’ve relived this hour so many times that you can list everything that happens. Down to the exact minute. 7:08- a little girl wearing a red dress walks by. 7:09- a lady with short hair catches your eyes and smiles. 7:14-an old man and woman bicker with each other as they pass you by. 7:21- A little dog sniffs the bench you sit on. 7:34- Two schoolchildren run past you, babbling. 7:45- five construction workers grumble out their grievances. 7:58- a businessman talks loudly on the phone.

You wait. You sit on a bench and wait until 8:06.

Five seconds after 8:06. Twenty seconds after 8:06.

The clock clicks to 8:07.

You were expecting to feel something else. Celebration. Elation. You half-expected to cause a scene and jump for joy right there in the streets of Shinjuku.

None of that comes. There’s just a feeling of relief. A weight presses you down, and you slump in your seat.

It was over.

It was finally over.

How long do you stay like that? Hours? Days? When you feel like you can finally breathe again, it’s only 8:12. Time travel warped your sense of time.

You stand up, stretch, feel your bones crack and pop. In the second timeline, you wanted to get a drink to drown your misery of nearly getting killed by a curse and being alone on December 24th. It felt like a lifetime ago when being single was the worst of your problems.

Honestly, you’d stay celibate for the rest of your life if it meant you wouldn’t have to go through that ever again.

Tomorrow, you’ll decompress and devolve into hysteria over what happened.

Next week, you’ll check yourself into therapy.

Today, you decide to go home and sleep for a couple hundred years.

You must look like a zombie with the way you wobble down the street. Physically, your body is perfectly fine. You’ve suffered no bruises or cuts. Even the numerous times you’ve been killed leaves nothing on your skin.

Mentally, you’re in shambles. The indomitable human spirit within you is snuffed out.

The stairs to your flat is your last enemy that you must vanquish before you can reunite with your adoring bed. You cling onto the railing with dazed eyes. You don’t see the curse until you’re right before it.

Distantly, you wonder how often you’ve passed a curse and didn’t even realize it. It’s almost instinct to reach out with your hand, intent on absorbing it.

Nothing happens. You remember you aren’t Suguru anymore.

It’s a grotesque-looking thing. No eyes, too many hands, a gaping mouth. It turns and looks at you.

Strange. Its’ smile mirrors the one in the abandoned house.

Adrenaline. You feel it coarse through your veins, meld into your bones, explode in your skin. You’re stumbling back, nearly tripping down the steps in your haste to get away.

It screeches. Loud and clear and angry and you can almost feel its teeth chomp on your leg, ripping your muscles and skin to mere tatters.

You’ve died before. You’ve been skinned alive before. You’ve been eaten before. Yet, it all amounts to nothing compared to the fear you feel at the thought of the curse catching you.

It can’t have been nothing more than a third grade. If you were taller, larger, special-grade, you could have killed it immediately. But you weren’t, not anymore, you were at the same level as a plant. Useless. Helpless.

A dead man stumbling, tripping, running.

The streets were quiet. You supposed that meant there’d be fewer casualties. But it didn’t make you feel any better. And even if there were people around, no one would have been able to help you.

Your brain isn’t working as clearly. Fear is the only thing that guides you. You’re reduced to a rat scampering through a maze. Sooner or later, that rodent reaches a dead end.

The alleyway was blocked off. You felt the rough brick wall scrape your hands and even the feeling of your raw skin couldn’t assuage your heart pumping in your throat. When you whirled your head back, it was right there, and you knew you were dead.

Again.

It might kill you, if it’s feeling generous. It might cut your legs off and watch you bleed, if its feeling kind. It might eat you, if it’s a decent curse.

It shouldn’t be happening. You fixed it. You were supposed to have fixed everything. But clearly you didn't. There must have been some piece of the puzzle that you forgot. You need to go back. You need to fix things, but why do you need to why can't he just leave you alone—

You don’t see what happens. One moment, the curse is there. The next it isn’t.

“Those things are so annoying.” The newcomer complains.

No, not new. You know him.

You blink. He grins. It’s kind. A toothy smile that warms.

“You alright?” He asks in sympathy. “Curses are pretty scary, aren’t they? Are you hurt?”

It’s him. You weren’t in 2006. You were in the present, here and now, and he was here with you.

He actually made it.

“Ma’am?” He asks.

It wasn’t intentional. You just blurted it out, the promise you made to him. It was a decade for him. Mere hours for you.

“Um, broccoli head...?” And then you instantly regret it.

Haibara Yu takes a minute, eyes squinting like you just grew a new head.

Then, he gasps.

“Greeny?”

ⴵ

A few minutes later, you’re seated at a restaurant. Haibara has not shut up.

“—I—I can’t believe it? It’s actually you! I thought I’d never see you again ‘cuz Gojo said you weren’t gonna be around anymore, and—and then suddenly you pop up outta’ nowhere—not that I’m complaining— but—”

“—Haibara.” You interrupt. “Please, slow down.”

He stops himself, right when the server comes with drinks. He shoots the waiter a smile, and then he’s back on you.

“Sorry.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I—I got a little excited. And nervous. It’s just...well, I didn’t expect you to be a girl.”

That might have been your fault. Both Haibara and Gojo kept referring to you as a man, so you decided to roll with it. Earlier, you would have justified it by insisting the less they know about you, the better. Now, you just think you were being petty.

“So, how you’ve been? A whole decade...” You murmur to yourself.

“Fine! But what about you?” Haibara asks, concern etched into his eyes. “Where’d you go?”

Wow, he was actually worried for you. Despite being in Suguru’s body, you didn’t really feel like part of the group Shoko, Gojo, Nanami, and Haibara were part of. You felt like an outsider, being somewhere you didn’t belong. It's because you were an outsider. Nevertheless, it’s nice to know one person missed you.

“This might be a little hard to believe, but I just came back to 2017 two hours ago.”

Haibara gapes.

“Wait, so to you, that whole thing happened, today?” You nod. He leans back in his chair.

“Holy fuck.” You laugh at his awe.

“Thanks for saving me, by the way.” You change the topic. “From the curse.”

He waves it off. “I was just paying my debt. From what you did for me all those years ago.”

Ah, Gojo must have told him. Oddly enough, Haibara doesn't seem all that perturbed that he shouldn’t exist currently. At the same time, it feels just like Haibara.

He’s different from when he was younger. Taller. The baby fat is gone. His face is more built, just like the rest of his body. His eyes are less round, but they haven’t lost the spark. A few scars here and there, but he’s all in one piece.

You weren’t able to see what he looked like as an adult from Suguru’s memories, he’d never grown up. But now, you can see it for yourself. You can see the active change you made in his life, to his life.

“Haibara—”

“Yu—” He says seriously. “My friends call me Yu.”

A smile twitches on your lips.

“Tell me about everyone.” You scoot your chair closer. “You, Suguru. How is everyone doing?”

He perks up at that, clearly delighted to be talking.

“Great! Everyone’s doing great! You should totally come visit the school, sometime. They’d love to see you. Uh, even if they don’t technically know you, but I’m sure they’ll love to meet you!” He rambles, and it’s nice to know he hasn’t changed from his younger self.

“Let’s see, Kento’s teaching the first years. I teach the second years—”

“—You’re a teacher?”

He nods. “We all are! Except for Shoko, but she has her own thing going on. Anyway, Mimiko and Nanako have become second-grade semi-sorcerors. Isn’t that incredible? I’m just a first grade semi-sorceror, and at their young ages too! But Suguru wasn’t surprised, he kept saying his girls were prodigies. Oh! You probably want to know about Suguru too, right?”

You nod. Even if you hadn’t done anything, you don’t think that would have stopped his enthusiasm.

“He’s a teacher too! At least, for right now. Yaga’s been wanting to retire, and there have been talks of Suguru becoming the next principal. Principal Geto has a ring to it, right? Oh, and Shoko is currently planning the wedding. You’ll definitely be invited, of course! She said I could bring a plus-one. Oh, and—”

It goes on like that for hours, you think. Not that you mind. You listen to Yu babble on and on about his friends, his students. He talks about Nanami’s recent baking addiction, Shoko’s new office cat, Suguru’s favorite tea pot. It’s a never-ending surge of information.

Eventually, you catch on to the fact that he’s deliberately leaving someone out.

"Yu?" You interrupt him while he's talking about the prank the fourth year pulled on Nanami. "What about Satoru? What's he up to?" 

Maybe you were overthinking things. Haibara likes to talk; perhaps he forgot to exclude someone else's story in his rants. But then, he grimaces. For the first time in this entire conversation, Haibara is reluctant to talk. 

"Satoru is..." He winces, and your hands turn into fists. 

No. No. You were supposed to save everyone. Why hadn't you saved everyone? 

A warm hand grips your own. You'd been shaking. 

Yu gives a soft smile, and you remember he's no longer younger than you. 

"He's not dead." He assures you, but his smile fades. He straightens himself up, and his hand pulls away. 

"Satoru defected from Jujutsu tech. We don't know where he is." 

What? You must have misheard him wrong. Satoru wouldn't do that. That's not like him. This is some sick joke.

But there's no teasing grin on Haibara. His face is grave. You hate it more than anything. 

"It happened when he was a fourth year. No one really knows what happened. Suguru refuses to say anything about it, but I think he's just as confused as the rest of us. It came outta nowhere." 

Yeah, it definitely came out of nowhere. It's so random. Why would Satoru do that? The last time you saw him, he was so happy. He was smiling; he teased you. What happened? It made no sense. 

"So, you haven't seen him for nine years?" You ask. "Not even a glimpse?" 

Yu shakes his head. "Nothing but his residuals. That's how we know he's still alive." 

Nothing computes in your brain. None of it made any sense. You saved Suguru. That was supposed to make everyone happy, including Satoru. Why would he turn around and do this? Defecting made no sense.

"We've actually been tasked to execute him. Since he’s been branded a curse user, all four of us. " Yu laughs with no humor. "Isn't that insane? I don't think any one of us could even fathom doing that, even if it were possible." 

It wasn't possible. Gojo was the strongest. Nothing could go toe to toe with him. Once he put his mind to something, no one could stop him.

But maybe you could. 

You're shutting that idea down immediately. You were done. You were done with dying and time-travel and strange powers. You wanted it all to be over. It'd be so easy to thank Haibara for the nice meal, to go home and sleep this entire day off. Satoru dug his own grave, he can go lay in it. You weren't responsible for someone else's actions. You wouldn’t. You can’t do that another time.

You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right?

You hate that brat so much. 

You close your eyes. Take in a breath. Then, you open them. 

"Haibara?" You ask. "Did Gojo tell you how my technique worked?" 

He shakes his head. You grimace because convincing him might take a while.

"Okay, well, I'll need you to do a tiny favor for me."

ⴵ

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Oh, you're back already?" Satoru says casually, turning back to gaze at you. "I just left today. How did you convince Haibara to snap your neck? That guy cries after killing a mosquito.”

You’d caught him just as he was leaving campus. Yu’s body was less athletic than Suguru’s. Your breath was slightly ragged, pulled down by minor exhaustion.

It doesn’t weigh down your frustration for Gojo Satoru. The biggest pain in your ass you’ve ever met.

“Shut up.” You snap. “Just answer the question.”

“We haven’t seen each other for a year and that’s how you react?” Satoru ignores you. “That’s mean, Greeny. How ‘bout we discuss my treason over steak. Haibara can pay.”

“Satoru.” You beg, “Why are you doing this? What’s the point? Why is everyone happy with their life except for you?”

That seems to get him. His posture stiffens ever so slightly. You can see him work his jaw. He finally drops his act.

“You didn’t have to come back, y’know.” He murmurs quietly. “You could’ve just stayed in the future. Like you said, Greeny, everyone’s happy with their life. 4 outta’ five. That’s a passing grade.”

For once, you wish you could possess him. You wished you could open his brain and peer into his memories until he finally made sense.

“I could never leave you behind like that.” You say the truth just as quietly. “I’ll die a thousand more deaths than do that.”

He smiles. It looks genuine as it looks painful.

“Yeah, I know. I know you, Greeny. Always gotta’ play hero.” He gives a bitter laugh. “That’s why I defected.”

You stare at him. He’s a fourth-year now, even taller than before. You aren’t equal to him anymore in this body, now you’re starting to think you never were.

“Satoru.” You start because what he’s saying can’t be the truth. Your heart broke and broke. “Did—did you leave—did you leave everyone for a decade just so I’d come back? Why would you do that to yourself?”

He doesn’t say anything. Then, he steps forward, just a bit.

“It’s your fault,” Satoru says like it’s instinct to blame you for his actions, “this was your idea.”

What’s he talking about? And then memories of the two of you sitting on that bench just outside of campus.

What would you do if...there’s something you really want, but no matter how fast you run, you just can’t catch up to it? So that’s what he meant. You were an idiot.

“That’s not fair, Satoru,” you say regardless, “I—I never—I couldn’t expect you’d do this.”

“What choice did I fucking have, Greeny?” There’s rapid steps and he’s in front of you, desperate and wild. “You—you just left me here. You left me alone and I couldn’t even look for you because I know nothing about you. Your face, your eyes, your hair, not even your fucking name! How’s that fair?”

It’s true. It’s all true. As much as you tried to claim you tried to make everyone happy, you only focused on Suguru. And Suguru’s happiness enlisted space from the strongest. In a different timeline, things would be different between them. A button he never left behind. Words Satoru never said. That timeline held too much pain and suffering, so you scrubbed it from history. In this rendition, everything was changed. Suguru had Shoko. Yu had Kento. Who did Satoru have?

You saved Suguru in this timeline. But to save him, you neglected Satoru.

Satoru must have known. He must have known you intentionally distanced Suguru from him, but he allowed it anyway. Satoru’s selfless like that. Too giving. Too Godlike.

But he’s selfish too. Purposefully demeaning himself so he could get one more glimpse of you, uncaring if you went through hell for his sake. Too taking. Too human.

Once, you told him that if he was selfish, just once, you wouldn’t fault him. What a liar you are.

You forgive Satoru.

“I’m sorry.” Haibara’s voice is like your own. You step closer. His infinity lets you in. “I’m sorry Satoru. I didn’t mean to leave you alone.”

It’s hard to wrap him in a hug. The brat’s too big. He sinks into your touch like a tiger, filled with dangerous claws, retracted just for your sake. He shakes the tiniest bit; even now, he’s keeping himself as a pinnacle. If you hear a sniffle or two, you don’t comment on it.

It’s why your heart breaks to tell him the truth.

“I can’t give you my name.” You whisper in his ear. He pulls back. He doesn’t look at you.

“Yeah, I know. I know. time-travel bullshit—”

“For now.” You add. “I can’t do that for now.”

Three pairs of eyes look at you. You’re not hiding behind Haibara anymore. You’re not trying to.

“December 24th, 2017. 8:06. Tokyo Skytree.” You look at him. “Can you wait until then?”

For you, it’d only be an hour. For Satoru, it’d be a decade.

You expect him to reject it, to yell at you. You decide if he wants to be selfish; you’d let him.

“If you don’t show up, I’ll turn evil.” You laugh. His grin widens and he’s back again. “I’m serious. I’ll take over the world. I’ll throw the biggest temper tantrum ever.”

“You’re such a brat.” There’s no hostility in your tone. “I will. I promise.”

‘I’ll save you,’ You promise in your head because he’s too prideful to hear it.

“Is it still possible for you to go back?” You ask, the wariness present again. “The higher ups haven’t taken any action against you, right?”

He shakes his head.

“I think Yaga might yell at me, but other than that.” He shrugs. “They’ll decide it’s teen rebellion and sweep it under the rug.”

You laugh again. Satoru shoots you a toothy grin.

When you reach out a hand, Satoru mirrors you. He clasps your hand in his. For once, you wonder how they’ll feel on your own.

“See ya’ later, Greeny.”

A blink. Satoru’s gone. Your hand is empty, and you’re standing in the streets of Shinjuku once again.

ⴵ

December 24th, 2017. 8:06, at the top of the Tokyo Skytree.

Why did you decide on that date and time for all the places? You were so fucking stupid. You needed to stop being so poetic.

It’s already 7:12 when you’re desperately waving down a taxi. The driver looks disinterested when you blubber out the location. When he tells you it’ll cost extra because Sumida City isn’t part of his route, you’re more than happy to fork over the money.

It’s already 7:35 when you stumble through the interiors of Tokyo Skytree town. It’s crowded. Fuck, it’s December 24th, of course people would be out and about.

At 7:44, you finally reach the observational building. And then you hit upon a snag.

It’s closed.

Renovations, the sign reads, accompanied by an irritatingly cute drawing of a cat, please come visit us next week.

Would this excuse be enough to satisfy Satoru? You’re only human. Surely he’d understand if you couldn’t make it because the entire building was shut down.

Or wait. Was this Satoru’s doing?

You look up at the tower. Lights were still on and flickering. No crowds. No people. No prying eyes.

Let it be known that you’ve never trespassed before, until you met Gojo Satoru.

With a guilty conscious, you step over the line. You justify it by convincing yourself you were saving the world because you know Satoru wasn’t joking a decade ago.

The elevators still worked. Thank God. Yet another hint he’s paving the way for you. You made the location, but it feels like you’re a mouse stuck in a human-designed maze. Even though you set up the game, he’s still managed to rig it.

You land on the first deck at 7:52. At 7:56, you reach the second observational deck.

It’s empty. You’ve never seen the skytree so empty before. Not a single soul is here except for you. Your footsteps echo across the floor. Were you early?

Out the corner of your eye, there’s a post-it note stuck on the window. A hand-drawn arrow. Up ahead, there’s another one.

You follow the next, and then the next. All the time you don’t know how to feel about him doing all of this just for an encounter. Something bubbles in your stomach. You’re pushing it down.

You follow the post-its until there’s one placed right on top of a door.

Authorized personnel only. Why does this brat continue to test you?

But it’s already 8:03; you’re far too deep to complain.

A service elevator greets you. If you press the button, it’ll take you all the way up to the broadcast equipment, the top of the Tokyo Skytree.

It’s different from the past two elevator rides. The service elevator isn’t all that polished. The wheels squeak a little too dangerously at times. It’s slower, too.

That’s bad, because now you’re starting to think.

That familiar feeling boils within your stomach, again. You’re anxious. It’s strange to say, but meeting Satoru through Suguru, meeting Satoru through Yu, it felt like you had a protective shell around yourself. You were free from his judgement, only invoking curiosity.

If you show yourself to him, how would he react? What would he say? Would he get angry that you made him wait a decade for such a blunder? Even worse, what if he doesn’t get angry?

What if—what if he’s disappointed by you?

Cold feet. It freezes your toes. You want to go back. You want the elevator to go back down, you want to go home and hide away.

But you promised Satoru. He deserves answers.

Pathetic answers are better than no answers at all.

Instead of your soul being protected by a sorcerer's body, it’s protected by your own. You’d steel yourself for whatever comes next. You could melt after.

It’s windy up here. That’s the first thing you notice. Icy wind cuts at your face and your eyes squint so they don’t dry out so quickly. It’s colder, too; your jacket is nice protection, but nothing helps your vulnerable hands.

But the view. Oh, what a view.

The sea of twinkling lights shines from the city. The sun has set, leaving Tokyo to do nothing but shine. She’s gorgeous like she’s picked the stars from the sky, burying them within her own soul. You could stay there forever, if she let you.

It’s 8:09. Satoru was late.

Or maybe he just wasn’t planning to show up.

You lean away from the railing. It’s just like him to make huge gestures and at the last moment, ditch everything. The balloon in your lungs deflates ever so slightly.

And then, you can feel hands.

Around your shoulders, caging you in. Large and warm despite the icy air. You know these hands. They’re familiar, even a decade later. His chest presses up against your back. His face settles in the crook of your neck.

His laugh tickles your ear, and you aren’t so cold anymore.

“Caught ya, Greeny.”

(“Did something happen to you, back there in the house?”

"Hm?" Suguru asked.

They were wading through long grass and overgrown weeds. Satoru glances at his friend. Suguru looks fine. His cursed energy has gone back to normal. That's probably good.

"You were just acting weird," Satoru said, "I mean you fell on your ass in front of a curse. Embarrassing."

Suguru huffed, a red hue across his cheeks. "Shut up, don't remind me."

'So he remembered,' Satoru thinks, 'didn't expect that.'

They're almost to the car when Suguru speaks again.

"Actually, I did feel a little strange," he says, "I felt like I wasn't really all there. There was this voice, guiding me along."

"Really?" Satoru shivers. "That sounds creepy."

So the entity within Suguru was a bad thing after all. He should try to get rid of it if it ever comes back. It might take a complex spell or something-

"Not really." Suguru said. "It's hard to explain, but it felt....nice."

"Nice?" Satoru echoes.

"Yeah."

And then it's quiet again.)

Part two: Rewound Infinitely