#and. man. it appears this is. still more of a thing than I thought it was. thats. annoying and inconvenient

[delirious-donna]

Kento finds your journal and vows to return it, but not before he accidentally sneaks a peek… or, the time he read that you wanted to climb him like a tree.

Oh fuck - no! No no no. Please don’t have read it. I’ll do all my weekend chores rather than playing videogames and I’ll even unpack that final box that has been sitting in the spare room if you’ll do me this one solid favour.

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

tw: embarrassing situations, teacher Kento and teacher reader, thigh riding, use of pet names (darling and sweetheart), dirty talk, Kento being more forward than usual, rewrite of an old story (it’s better now, promise), brief appearance of Satoru

The notebook caught his eye; magenta in colour, clearly well-thumbed and definitely not meant to be here, in the teacher’s lounge. He rolled his neck against the uncomfortably lumpy couch until the cracking noise of stiff joints popping made him wince.

With a resigned grunt, Kento sat forward and glanced at his watch.

His next class was due to begin in ten minutes and if he were honest, he felt rather unmotivated to inspire the next generation on this particular day, a feeling that was becoming painfully regular. Fixing the knot of his tie, which he had loosened upon entering the lounge, he lamented on how every day seemed to bleed into each other.

It had been so stiflingly long since anything new or of interest had occurred and he was starting to feel drained from the mundane, walking through each day like a zombie. Heaven help him, it was a frighteningly familiar feeling.

On his way towards the door, he picked up the offending notebook that was stuck between the couch cushions and glanced at it curiously. Your name was emblazoned on the front cover, written in glittery silver ink. Nanami passed a finger over the lettering, his lips tilting into a thin smile at how irreverent it appeared.

He knew you were a few years younger than he was, that you had only become a teacher at the start of this academic year after a sudden change in career, and to say you were a little shy would be a gross understatement. Kento could probably count the times you had spoken to him on one hand, and each one had been a rushed experience, as if you couldn’t wait to retreat from his presence–was he really that intimidating?

At that rather depressing thought, he resumed walking, intent on delivering your notebook before arriving at his own classroom to greet his darling little bastards charges for the afternoon lecture.

Of course, things would never be that simple, nor straightforward when you worked alongside Satoru Gojo.

The white-haired whirlwind hurtled into him as soon as he ventured into the hall. A barking laugh bounced off the walls as Gojo clapped him heartily on the back and effectively knocked the notebook from his grasp to flutter to the floor.

“Ah, Nanami-san, just the man I was looking for,” he thundered. “Could you do your bestest friend in the whole world a favour?”

“If you are referring to yourself with that sentiment, Gojo, then the answer is of course, no.”

Satoru pouted, Kento grimaced.

Celestial blue eyes peered over the rim of his round sunglasses whilst Kento bent to retrieve the book that had tumbled out of his hands and was now spread open at his feet. His eyes narrowed on the hastily scrawled text that he couldn’t quite make out, but… that was his name that he was staring at.

He was aware that Satoru was still talking, the man would continue to ramble away to himself forever, but Kento held his hand aloft to cease the incessant drone.

A strange, but not unpleasant heat coursed through his veins, and something he hadn’t felt in the longest time stirred in his chest. The wild thump of his heart drowned out his pesky colleague’s yammering as he was finally able to read the line of text that referred to him. A sentence that you had hastily scrawled and then ringed again and again with a fluffy cloud border.

Why does Nanami-san have to be so goddamn big and sexy? What I wouldn’t give to climb him like a tree…

He was sure that he could feel the warmth spread up his neck, his collar suddenly too tight, and his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed the runny saliva pooling inside his mouth.

It would be a lie to say he hadn’t admired you, although always from afar. He knew he wasn’t the most social of men, a sentiment his annoying friend constantly reminded him of. Added to the fact that Kento had been sure you were terrified of him, and he had no intention of making you feel uncomfortable, he kept his distance and his daydreaming to himself and the privacy of his bedroom and shower.

Only now, did he wonder if that discomfort had been something else entirely…

“Will you do it?” Satoru asked, shaking his arms with his long spindly fingers and offering a wide cocky smile.

“I wasn’t listening, and no. I’m going to be busy,” he replied, brushing his fellow teacher’s hand from his forearms and pushing past him to his classroom.

He could care less for the deflated look that the snowy-haired menace threw over his shoulder, there were more important matters on his mind and a knowing smirk curved his lips. The smirk was mirrored by the very man he gave his back to, and that was just fine in his book.

No longer did he detour to return the notebook. Oh no--he’d deliver it back to you safe and sound once the day was over and everyone else had cleared out.

~

It had been a long day. A tiring one too, and the prospect of spending your precious evening hours behind your desk marking exams and writing assignment commentary was unwelcome.

As if the universe could hear your lament, they sent you a curve ball you could never see coming…

A determined knock shook you from your thoughts. The pen in your hand fell to the desk at the same moment you leaned back in your chair, inviting your unexpected visitor to enter.

Your mouth ran dry as the very man you least expected to be calling in on you, walked inside. Least expected but most wanted, secretly, of course. There was no way you were earning yourself a reputation for flirting with your colleagues, even if he was so painfully handsome it made you chew the insides of your cheeks every time you were in his presence. Not because you were shy, because you were a little, but because you didn’t trust what might come out of your mouth! Best to keep those thoughts inside your head where they were safe.

Kento turned to shut the door, the lock flicking silently into place so as to avoid any embarrassing interruptions, before he bowed his head in greeting.

“Nanami-san, what can I do for you?” you asked, impressed that you had managed to speak without tripping over your words. It was certainly an improvement on previous attempts.

It was near impossible not to admire him as he stood near the back of the class. The collar of his azure dress shirt had been loosened, the tie askew as if he had been pulling at them both with insistent fingers. Fingers that were currently drumming against the taut muscles of his forearms. There was something about a man with his sleeves rolled to the elbows that never failed to send you into a feral kind of heat, and right now was no different.

Why did he have to look so downright tantalising? Why did your thighs have to clench together like you were some horny beast in an actual heat?

The aloof expression, the way that he seemed to caress you with his hazel eyes and the simple pleasure of how big he was. At the end of the day, you were no better than an animal, and you animal brain was saying that big was good. Big would rock your world given the chance.

“I found something that belongs to you and thought I should return it,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Oh? That’s kind of you, what is it?”

You wondered what he could have found, mentally scanning your memory of something you might have misplaced or been looking for. Standing, you took two steps forward but froze in place at the sight of your personal notebook held in his large hand. Surely your heart had seized in your chest, it certainly felt like it had.

Oh fuck - no! No no no. Please don’t have read it. I’ll do all my weekend chores rather than playing videogames and I’ll even unpack that final box that has been sitting in the spare room if you’ll do me this one solid favour.

Your eyes widened, looking from the notebook to his face and back again. For a second you thought your silent pleas had been answered, but when had life ever been so benevolent to you before? Kento winked almost imperceptibly, and you wished that a sink hole would form beneath your feet to save you from this mortification.

Heat rose to your cheeks in rushing waves. You swayed unsteadily on the spot with your hand outstretched for the book, desperate for some distance but needing the offending item back in your possession.

Kento chuckled and the deep baritone rumble felt as if the sound resonated within your own body. It stroked at you with exploratory phantom touches although he hadn’t moved. Your every muscle tightened whilst you waited for him to hand over the notebook that held some of your wildest fantasies.

When he held it over his head instead of depositing it into your awaiting sweaty paws, you swore it felt like the air was sucked from the room. It seemed like he had read a very specific piece of information, and you would die of embarrassment.

“I suggest…” he drawled almost lazily. “That if you want it back, you best climb me for it.”

“You—you weren’t meant to read that,” you whispered, staring into the depths of the floor.

A pair of sturdy but unassuming boots came into view. You frowned, surprised.

Two fingers fit beneath your chin and raised your head up to meet his gaze. There was a prominent frown between his eyes that hadn’t been there seconds prior, and you couldn’t help but admire his sharply angular face even if you were doing your best to look anywhere but into his eyes.

“I apologise… perhaps that was a bit too forward. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but you see... I’ve thought about you a lot and not just because I found your notebook? Journal? Doesn’t matter.” Kento exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening. “You think I’m big? I don’t see it myself, but then I was never my best critic.”

You nodded in affirmation, where was the point in denying it now? His eyes softened, crinkles forming in the outer corners whilst his thumb lightly grazed your jaw. Roasted coffee grounds and notes of sandalwood invaded your nose as his head bent lower, towards your ear.

“Then I will repeat myself only once, sweetheart, climb me if you want it back.”

And so, you did.

You climbed him like a feral little animal.

You reached the offending notebook and hurled it to the floor without a second thought. His laughter was warm and the most boisterous you had heard from him. It made you follow through with your impulse to hook your arms around his strong neck, fingers curling into the rough undercut at his nape. Your legs were quick to follow, circling his waist until your entire front rocked into the wall of muscles that was his body.

“Tell me, what else have you put in that saucy little journal about me, hm?”

“You didn’t read it all?” you asked, almost shocked at his level of restraint if it were true.

Kento shook his head, and you believed him. He wasn’t one for lying. “I wanted to hear them from your mouth.”

“Oh… that’s… mm. Anyone ever told you that you’re as perfect as a fictional man, preferably one created by a woman? Don’t answer that,” you clamoured, pressing your hand across his mouth as it stretched open to reply.

“There’s—uh—this one thing.” You nudged the tip of his nose with yours, moving to speak directly into his ear.

Kento’s breath caught in his throat as you whispered about getting off on his thigh, his hold at your waist, which has stayed appropriate until then, tightened and moved towards your backside—squeezing.

With you still attached to him like a koala, he seated himself on the edge of your desk, lowering you until you were spread over one of his incredibly thick thighs. Your skirt bunched around your middle to accommodate the position as his expansive palms wandered your sides, pawing at your hips and palming your ass with a groan.

In no time at all he was dragging you along the length of his thigh. Your underwear was ruined by this point, your clit throbbed from the friction, the seam of yours and his clothing catching you in deliciously new ways and you still hadn’t kissed him.

You remedied this terrible oversight with enthusiasm, delighting when he startled at your forwardness before he melted, shoulders sagging. It was everything and more. No fantasy could live up to the reality. Kento kissed softly, thoroughly. Whilst he continued to lead the rhythm of your body as you rode his thigh, he was more than happy to let you lead here.

His mouth was surprisingly hot for a man who always seemed to remain cool and composed, a deep groan rumbled in his throat when you curled around his tongue and sucked on the warm, wet muscle. The warmly spiced scent and taste of Kento filled your lungs and evaporated any sense of reason you might have had about making out with a fellow teacher in your classroom. It didn’t matter. Only this mattered.

“Feel good?” he asked as you parted for much-needed air. His rough fingers gripped into the fat of your behind, reaching beneath the hem of your skirt to bunch the cotton of your underwear until he was forcing the material between your slick pussy lips.

You nodded enthusiastically, drawing his lower lip into your mouth and sucking on the tender flesh in earnest. Kento was manhandling you in a way that would make any staunch feminist blanch, but it was exactly what you wanted, exactly what you needed.

“You’re making a mess on me, darling.”

“So, I’m you’re darling, am I?” You quipped back despite sounding out of breath. He was right about the mess, there was an embarrassingly long wet streak on his tailored slacks from being manipulated along his thigh. You were fucking yourself against the strong muscles that flexed beneath you and leaving the evidence for anyone to see.

“I think I’d like that,” he admitted with a hum, planting kisses to your neck and collarbone.

Your orgasm was coming in fast; the combination of the friction against your clenching cunt, the large palms gripping into your ass as if he owned it and his delicious mouth teasing your skin was speeding you towards the finish line in haste. His admittance that he might like some kind of relationship with you was the final nail in your coffin, so to speak.

“Nanami-san!”

Blond hair fell into your vision, urgent lips pressing open-mouthed kisses to your cleavage and the swell of your breasts. His tongue flickered at your flesh, warming you up before sucking possessive purple bruises that would be hard to explain later.

“Kento,” he breathed against your collarbone, “call me Kento, my darling.”

Gods, could he be any more perfect? It was as if he knew exactly what to do and say to set you off like a firecracker!

You shrieked in surprise when Kento lifted you like you weighed nothing—you most definitely did not weigh nothing. He held you tight as he turned your body so your back was flush with his chest, rearranging you over his broad thigh once more but this time you could feel the prod of his prominent erection at the outside of your hip. It was thick and imposing, distracting but only in that you wondered what it would look like, feel like—in your hand and stretching your walls.

“Go on, be a good girl and get yourself off on my thigh,” he cooed, nipping at your earlobe.

Kento grabbed at your breasts, squeezing the doughy mounds between his fingers whilst you rode his thigh to completion, pinching you through lace and chiffon. The orgasm that hit was staggering; it stole the air from your lungs, the equilibrium of your body and the sight from your eyes.

White lights pulsed behind your eyelids as you gushed like a surging waterfall over his trousers, ruining your underwear and skirt in the process. It would be embarrassing if it wasn't for the primal-sound growl that emanated from his chest. The almost bestial sounding war cry that made you shiver whilst you floated back down from ecstasy.

“Atta girl. There it is. Mhm, so good for me. So receptive. Can I take you home?” Kento asked, his voice thick and strained with unspoken emotion. “Cause I think it’s my turn now, and I can't wait to see how goddamn perfect you’re gonna look taking my cock.”

You smiled, drunk on the bliss. “Sure thing, big boy, but let’s not make this our get together story for the grandkids, yeah?”

You were so glad he found your notebook, even if you had no idea that it was Satoru Gojo that you needed to thank in the first place...

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Boo

Prompt: You end up taking Jack and your daughter trick or treating while Aaron is stuck at work.

Note: I know this Halloween inspired prompt is a little belated but the amount of fluff is worth it. 🥰

“I want that one!” your daughter yelled, grabbing the bigger candy bucket from Jack’s hands. A frown appeared on his face but he seemingly held himself back from acting out. The little 8 year old had way more patience than you did at his age, clearly taking after Aaron’s constant calm and controlled demeanor.

“Hey,” you spoke, crouching down to her level. “Jackers is your brother and you need to be nice to him. We don’t yell and take things away from each other.” She looked back and forth from him to you, an expression of disapproval evident. “Why don’t you try asking him nicely if you can have the bigger bucket, ok?”

You and Jack waited as she stayed silent, clearly struggling with the idea to be polite. Finally, she turned to Jack and spoke. “Can I have Jack?”

He looked over at you and then to the smaller identical bucket by her feet. “Yeah, ok.”

You sighed in relief and gave them both a big smile. For a second, you thought there was gonna be a tantrum happening before you even got a chance to trick or treat but luckily Jack came to your rescue, being the bigger man.

“See, wasn’t that nicer than yelling at Jack?” She just nodded, avoiding eye contact, probably embarrassed that she was in the wrong. “Ok, now let’s go get some candy!”

Like a switch, they were both back to being happy and excited as they ran to the door. You grabbed both of their jackets that you knew they were gonna want later on as well as your little tumbler of wine. That was your treat for the night.

Before leaving the house, you came over to Jack and plopped a king sized Snickers bar in his bucket, giving him a wink and smile once he noticed. He pretended to zip his lips shut and throw away the key, making you laugh.

The first couple of house went smoothly, your daughter clutching onto Jack most of the time, not convinced with the suspicious looking decorations outside of some of the houses. You sent a picture of the two of them to Aaron, knowing he’d want to see how they were doing even if he couldn’t be there.

Aaron: They look adorable. How far have you gotten?

You: Still on our street, but making great headway. Jack is excited to get to Wicker street where he knows they give out the bigger candy.

Aaron: Smart boy. I see he let his sister have the bigger bucket.

You: Yeah, he handled it very well. Reminded me a lot of his father. (;

Aaron: Love to hear that. Gotta go but I love you.

You: Love you too.

You put your phone away just as you heard your daughter scream and watch as she made a beeline for you, leaving Jack in the dust. "Sweetheart, what's the matter?" you asked bending down. She looked absolutely terrified as tears began streaming down her face and the little tiara on her head struggled to stay attached. Instead of answering, she just pointed over to the porch that she had just ran from. You knew then what she was referring to when you saw the dog dressed as a big spider. It took everything in you not to laugh out loud.

"Oh honey, it's a just a doggy. He's dressed up for Halloween just like you." You brushed the hair out of her eyes while she continued crying, completely unconvinced that the dog was not a gigantic spider there to eat her and waited as Jack came back over. He inspected the scene before him, obviously aware of what happened and proceeded to pull a pack of gummy worms out from his bucket of goodies.

"Here. I got you worms," he offered, forcing the candy into her hand. Just like that, the crying stopped immediately as she played with the package, trying to figure out how to open it.

"That was so nice of your brother. Can you say thank you sweetie?"

"Thank you," she repeated. You gave Jack a ruffle on his head and pulled him in for a hug. He was literally the sweetest boy you knew.

"Alright, Jack. You want to lead the way to the next street?" He shook his head in excitement and wasted no time in showing you the way.

After walking up to the first house and receiving two big chocolate bars, he was practically racing to the next house for more.

"Not so fast Jack, stay close." you told him, scanning your surroundings, knowing anything could happen. Your daughter followed in step with you, busy gnawing on some gummy candy that you were sure was gonna end up keeping her up all night. Just before you all reached the next house, someone caught your eye. The tall figure was a bit far away but became increasingly clearer, the closer you got. Jack was the first to identify him.

"Daddy!"

You watched him run ahead and into the arms of your husband, who was still dressed in his work attire. In that moment, you were entirely grateful to the Bureau for their strict dress code. The dress pants, FBI windbreaker, and holstered weapon had you thinking all kinds of dirty scenarios in your head you'd like to play out with him but for the sake of your toddler children, you decided to indulge your fantasies later.

You and your daughter walked over, a gentle smile on your lips as he set Jack down to give her a hug. "Well this is a pleasant surprise." you greeted, giving him a kiss once he came back up.

“Case wrapped up sooner than expected. Figured the team could use an early night considering the occasion."

You pulled him in for another kiss, this time, a slightly longer and deeper, earning a curious hum from him. "What was that for?"

Absentmindedly, you played with his tie and looked up at his boyish expression. "I just really like your Halloween costume."

Being the ever observant special agent he was, it didn't take long for him to understand what you meant as a knowing smirk played on his lips. "I see."

"Daddy, up," your daughter demanded while pulling on his pant leg, interrupting the moment.

“Of course sweetheart.” He propped her up on his hip and gave you one last look before turning his attention to them. “Lead the way Batman,” Aaron spoke to Jack in his costume.

All of you followed after the young boy, it not taking long for both of their candy buckets to fill up and their sugar high to come crashing down. Your daughter had fallen asleep in Aaron’s arms on the walk back and Jack walked hand in hand with you, his pace a lot slower than earlier.

Once in the house, you helped Jack separate his candy while Aaron put your daughter down for bed. "The Twix are my favorite. Dad can have the pretzels and you can have the lollipops," he offered, pushing the less interesting candy towards you.

“Alright. I’ll keep all of your candy in a very secure safe place,” you reassured him, putting his little pile into a ziplock bag. “Why don’t you go get changed into your pj’s and brush your teeth.”

He listened without a fuss, a tired yawn making its way out of his mouth as he shuffled down the hall, passing by his dad who gave him a high five.

You watched him make his way over to you, a playful glint in his eye, his arms snaking their way around your waist before he placed a gentle kiss against your neck. "I thought I could run us a bath. Maybe give you a massage afterwards." His murmured words sent a shiver through you, your body reacting immediately. You turned to face him, your hands slowly pulling down on his jacket zipper, your eyes locked with his.

Leaning in, his lips met yours with a burning passion you loved. Like that was the last kiss he'd ever have. His hand cradled your head, fingers entwining in your hair and as he stepped closer, the faint smell of cologne from that morning still lingered on his clothes, overstimulating your senses. Your hands rested themselves on his torso, grabbing at the fabric, wanting nothing more than to rip it right off his body as his breath hitched, telling you he felt the same way.

"Daddy!" Jack called from down the hall, bringing the both of you back down to earth. He was probably waiting for his nightly bedtime story you made sure to give him, all cuddled up in his bed, surrounded by his numerous stuffies and dressed in his Batman pajamas.

You pulled away from Aaron, his eyes dark and filled with desire.

"Wait for me," he spoke lowly, stepping back from you before heading towards Jack's room, ready to give the shortest bedtime story ever.

[housederiva]

Here's every version of the letter the Inquisitor gets from their LI plus Varric (which didn't make me cry at all)

If your Inky didn't romance anyone:

Inquisitor, Greetings from miserable, rainy Minrathous! (Don't tell Dorian I called it that.) The rotten weather here is making me nostalgic for Skyhold. The mountains were freezing, but at least the air didn't smell like wet garbage. We'll have to get in another game of Wicked Grace, soon. Harding picked up the trail again. I'd tell you not to worry, but I know how useless that is. Instead, I'll just say: I've got a great team on this. Neve could stare down the Maker, and wait until you meet Rook. He's/She's/They're a natural: Smart, resourceful, completely unpredictable. You'd like him/her/them, as long as you don't try to beat him/her/them at cards. Chuckles'll never know what hit him. I'll write again once we have something solid for you. Drinks at the Hanged Man are on me when this is over. Take care of yourself. Varric

Blackwall:

My love, You have summoned me to Minrathous, and I will answer your call, as soon as responsibilities here in the South allow. I have missed being by your side. Will these troubles be the last we face? The world seems always to conspire, through duty or disaster, to pull you away from me. I do not resent it. You are dedicated to purposes far larger and more significant than myself. I hope you do not think me a fool for hoping that one day, your only concern will be the color you wish our walls to be painted, or the flowers we will plant beside our gate. I'm partial to carnations. Yours always, Thom

Cassandra:

My love, We are no strangers to duty, or the separation it demands of us. You head for Tevinter, and though I want to go with you, there is work we both must do. I will not falter in the tasks that wait before me and I pray my actions, in whatever measure they can, will keep you safe. The others see only confidence in my resolve, but you have always known more than mere appearance. I confess to you, and you alone, that I am afraid. I'm afraid of what may happen, that Thedas will face such turmoil as it did before. I know not what awaits us. Yet even in the face of uncertainty, there are two things I cannot doubt and never will. The first is that our paths are never separated long. That I will find you at my side when I need you, as you will find me at yours. I will play my part in this and follow as soon as I can. The second thing I never doubt is you. Whatever lies before you, trust yourself. Trust your heart as I trust it. It will not lead you astray. Yours, Cassandra

Cullen:

The top of the letter has been punctured by small, sharp teeth, leaving most of a beloved name and a few sentences chewed to read. I fear the puppy started on this letter shortly after I did. I'd start over, but I must send this tonight if it's to reach you. Matters are settled here and I make for Tevinter as soon as possible. I almost believed chaos might spare us this time. I can't say I wished to see Minrathous before now, but I am eager to see you. I long to see your face and know that you are all right. You are I've There's I wish I was better at putting into writing all that's in my mind. For now, simply know that I love you. It is the most cherished constant of my life. The days ahead will not be easy. I know there's much you carry, more than many realize. But whatever you must face, you will not meet it alone. You have my sword, my counsel, my - I could write this list forever when all I mean to say is this - Whatever you need of me, I am yours. Cullen

Dorian:

Amatus, I'm writing. Again. Yes, the sending crystals still work and yes, you'll be in Minrathous in a few short weeks. But a letter, written in blind longing, is real. It can be touched, and it can be held, when ink and paper must substitute for your skin on mine and my breath in your ear. I used to scoff at frequent declarations of affection. Trite, I thought. Save them for rare and precious moments. But time and love are no longer things I care to squander, especially not as we race again toward calamity. And so, in each of these fleeting, ephemeral seconds, I will tell you that I love you. Whether penned or spoken, or conveyed by glance or action, I love you. In this moment, and in all the moments to come, for as long as they do, I love you. I will find you soon. Yours, Dorian

Iron Bull

Hey, Kadan, Not the first time we've marched toward different battles. I know you're keeping the crap from catching fire up in Tevinter. Wish I could be there, but I'll make sure there's a world for you to come back to when you're done dealing with crazy vints and stupid Antaam and whatever other crap Solas kicked up. (Shit, the Antaam. Remember when I was worried what would happen if I went tal-vashoth? That right there!) I know you're gonna be careful, and you've got Morrigan there. Just take care of yourself. If anything happens to you, I'm going to have to take Krem and the Chargers and stomp across all of Tevinter to come get you. It'll be a whole thing, and you know it'll upset Dorian. Being apart from you made me realize something else. I spent so long being whatever the Ben-Hassrath wanted me to be. An investigator. An agent. A mercenary sending reports. These past years, since the Inquisition ended, I've been able to just be what I want to be. And what I really want to be is yours. I like the person I am when I'm with you. So come back safe. Love, The signature appears to be a stylized rendering of the Iron Bull's head.

Josephine:

My Dearest Lord/Lady, I have spoken to friends in Minrathous. They offer us their hospitality, not to mention shelter from the worst intrigues of the Archon's Palace. While you're well acquainted with the roving eyes of grand courts, please take care. Tevinter's regard can be the oldest and cruelest of them all. The family writes the weather back home is beautiful. I do miss our quiet times together. There is a question I've wanted to ask you for so long. I would like to pretend I have been busy, or it was not the proper time. But, if I am being honest, I only waited because I have been afraid of choosing a poor moment. Please, let me make a promise to you here. When we return to Antiva, I will ask you, on the steps of the estate, if you will do me a great honor. And I dream you will say yes. Always yours, Josephine Postscript: I cannot believe it nearly slipped my mind. Yvette and Lord Otranto send their best wishes, and hope to see us back home in time to welcome their third child.

Sera:

(An artistically doodled journal page presumably from the Inquisitor's partner, Sera.) Keep this as close as I need you. (A drawing of a pile of flowers, with lines like it's moving, an arrow pointing to it labeled "us.") - North again, Mini-wrathus still stuck up its own pucker. - Magiturds are scared of us. They don't even know. - We work with Maevaris, right? She's wow. - So many Friends! Jennies in all the walls! - We kill him this time. He took from us twice! (A drawing of a cracked egg scribbled out, with "can't even joke" in letters that tore the page.) - Still thinking of you sideways. - Never mind the Dalish, here's the Veil Jumpers! Tempest-kin! (A drawing of a tall, shorthaired elf (Sera?) and Irelin brandishing two fingers, backflipping as a tree explodes in runes.) - The memory thing makes my head spin. If that Rook doesn't take it, throw it out. - Tell Morrigan ppbbth! for me. - I'll also tell her ppbbth! She knows why. - Tell them to Stripe. Him. Up. I wanted more books. (More heavy scribbles that tear.) - You meet; I'll keep you safe. Then I'm your time off, and you're my time on. (The last section has different colored inks, like Sera has returned to it several times.) New naked names: -Sweet-tits (scribbled out) -Bestest (scribbled out) -Loverly (scribbled out) -Lovey (scribbled out) -My-for-always-and-ever - name's not too long, time's too short. -But "Sweet-tits," though (scribbled out)

Solas:

Vhenan, I do not know if you will see these words. My ritual is ready and will soon be set in motion. Perhaps when you read this the world will be as it once was, and you will see why all I did was necessary. I cannot ask your forgiveness, but I hope you come to understand. That night in Crestwood, when I shared the truth about your vallaslin... you do not know how close I came to breaking. I could have shared the truth, or even put my plans aside and simply stayed with you as Solas... as I wanted. I regret the pain I caused you. What I feel for you will never change. The note is unsigned, but the handwriting is Solas'.

[constantfragmentation]

HI FELLOW SILCO ENJOYER

What are your thoughts on the polycule theory of felicia-silco-vander? 👀

Whew... where to begin?

Fair warning, this is going to be a long assessment.

First off, I firmly believe (unless S2 Act 3 makes me eat my words), that the writers didn't realize Silco and Vander would become such popular characters. I don't think that was the plan. They were side characters meant to beef up the main stars Jinx and Vi. Rightly so. They were devised as parallels for Vi and Jinx throughout the story. And it was beautiful.

S1 was filled with little details that enhanced every part of the plot and character development through each act.

However, if S/V were so important, more care would have been put into their backstories, which have been kept pretty vague. And these so-called continuity mistakes/plotholes seem pretty big for a studio that has been meticulous in the details all through S1.

We meet Vander, who changes his life after seeing the kids lose their parents and adopts them. Vander is seen as the builder and leader of the Underground, and he seems to lead with the threat of who he used to be (until Sevika calls his ass out).

Silco is introduced as the mean baddie immediately via Vander/Benzo's conversation in E1.

"There's worse things than Enforcers out there. We both know that."

Then his full intro including an underground evil lair and mad scientist at the end of E1.

E2 leans into the same MO for Silco. Until finally coming to the best episode (IMO) in all of S1 and it's E3, where things come to light. But he's still evil, vicious and spares no one. Silco appears to have zero empathy and is filled with a deep seeded hate.

"Silco?! You animal! Go crawl back into whatever hole you came out of!"

S1E1-3 Silco completely paints him as terrible from the Underground's perspective. Silco - bad. Vander - good. Both Vander and Benzo see Silco as a dangerous threat. So does the rest of the Underground feel the same? Do they know about what happened to Silco by Vander's hands? Sevika chooses him because she lost faith in Vander as a leader.

So, that makes me wonder if Silco WAS the brains behind everything from their smuggling business and building up the Underground to the rebellion. Vander on his own, seemingly, isn't shit. He is the muscle. WIthout the brains, he doesn't haven much in planning so he turns to making a deal with Enforcers instead.

By S1E3, we start to see beyond the veil a bit. Vander tried to drown and murder Silco. Let's remember one thing. Vander didn't just try to shoot Silco or they got into a fist fight and things got out of hand.

He tried to DROWN him. There's no way Silco went with Vander to the river fearing his life. Now, whether they went to talk in private and it got heated, you still have to sit back and look at Young!Vander and think wtf?

He is painted the good guy from the beginning. A man with restraint and compassion, looking out for everyone and especially his 'kids'.

It takes will and strength to smother/drown a person. It is NOT a quick death, it's a slow and painful death. Vander's intent was to kill him. Not once, did Vander think in the minutes holding Silco underwater that damn, this is wrong or overkill? You don't flippantly say "I'll never forgive myself" for trying to murder you slowly. Now beating the shit out of him and ruining his eye, yeah, that would make more sense from Vander, knowing he probably turned Silco into this worse person and fucked up his face, vision forever.

The viewer is left to assume it was something so fucking bad, Vander had to kill to stop it. Plus, Silco is already painted as the bad guy, so we presume Vander was right in trying to kill him?

So, what was so bad that this course of action was required? Well, it's pretty damn vague. In all of E3, Felicia isn't mentioned or hinted at ONCE. Not once. If Vander tried to kill Silco because of her, why do we not learn about any of it?? That seems like a pretty important fact, yes? This is Vi/Jinx's mom and she was a close friend? I'd say that's important.

Nope. Silco drags Vander to his lair and waxes on about fighting Piltover and finally realizing his dream of a free Zaun by any means.

Vander tells Silco he's never forgiven himself for trying to kill him, but nothing else is added to it? We're left to believe that Silco was either too powerful and influential in Zaun or that he orchestrated the bridge fight (that Vander was still fighting until the kids arrive and they see their dead parents).

This grey area is why the fandom has spent years trying to decipher what was so bad that it tore two brothers apart with attempted murder.

We learn in S2, Vander apparently "looked everywhere" for Silco and then wrote him a letter in a mine, hoping Silco might come across it. Well, if your brother tried to murder you, I'd say you would stay far away from him and not venture to old places in case he might try it again? Sounds reasonable, yes?

So Vander just gave up trying to talk to Silco and explain everything for YEARS? By S1E1 he and Benzo know about Silco and probably know where he is and that he's up to no good obviously. So why haven't they talked once in years?

Vander said he was in a rage over Felicia's death. But I'm sorry, none of that makes much sense and frankly takes the fire out of what created the fracture between two friends.

I would have preferred Riot not explain than give us a half-assed backstory of three happy-go-lucky buddies and the death of one is the backbone of hate, distrust and betrayal.

Again, Silco said Vander BETRAYED him. If they were arguing about Felicia and her partner dying, leaving kids orphaned, I don't call that betrayal. Vander's letter sounds like an argument that got out of hand. You don't just accidentally drown your best friend for the greater good because your other friend died in a fight ALL of you were fighting. You knew people would get hurt and/or die. It's reality.

It just doesn't FIT. It doesn't fit these characters at all in the narrative from S1.

Another reason I believe Riot never intended to go further with Silco and Vander's backstory is in the animation. Like I said above, S1 was littered with little and amazing details that we, as the viewer, have been analyzing for years.

The drowning was a VERY young Silco and Vander. Vander clearly has a beard and looks much older on the bridge in E1. The flashback in E3 looks like it was 10 years earlier at LEAST. That would be around the time Vi was born or a toddler if we're estimating her age by S1E1 on the bridge.

Vander beat the shit out of him and then decided to kill him by drowning. THAT is a major choice to make. That is a vicious choice. So we do see Vander as being more violent in his youth. So if the drowning came AFTER the bridge, that also doesn't quite fit either. He takes the kids and chooses pacifism, yet soon after, he's murdering his best friend. AND he suddenly shaved and grew younger, because he wanted to look clean and pretty before killing his bestie?

Zero continuity here. Bad writing. If there was mistake due to animation, they should have changed the backstory to fit than ramrod something else that looks badly done and makes zero sense to your audience.

Personally, I wish the drowning was PRIOR to the bridge battle.

It would make more sense if Vander was having second thoughts while planning the bridge fight. Maybe a separate attack went wrong and he realized they were going to lose and many would die. Silco, maybe having more influence or threatening to show Vander as a coward to the people is what finally triggers Vander to kill him. In order to stop this, Silco needs to die and then maybe Vander can convince others the fight is already lost against a superior firepower.

To kill Silco in that manner, signals to me, Silco was a great threat. Which means to me, Vander either felt he was a threat to him (since Vander does become the power in the Underground - the Hound) or he is beginning to feel like this fight is pointless and will change nothing. People will die for nothing.

Making it all about Felicia, just takes the fire out of rift between these two men all these years.

Again, she's never mentioned.

Silco even reflects in S1E3 that he still respected Vander after the drowning until he learned Vander was working with Enforcers and basically made a deal with Topside to keep the peace. That continues his pathway as a rebel and he's going to take down Vander with it or use him "what you really are".

Silco knows how violent Vander was and he's going to use it with Shimmer.

If we go by S2 timeline, then both Silco and Vander would know Felicia's kids well before the bridge battle. in S1, Silco would know who Vi is, at least and be aware of Powder. He would know this by S1E3 when he says "Have you heard the rumour? Vander the coward fled town with his children and were never seen again."

Pretty callous talking about his other bestie's kids like that. Damn. If Silco cared for her, then wouldn't he spare her kids? I just don't see this was ever about Felicia. It doesn't fit. He really didn't flinch in having Vi or any of the kids killed. HER kids? I'm having a hard time with that one.

I've said before that in Silco's eyes, Vi is an extension of Vander. When he finds Powder and she cuts off Vi as her sister, Jinx becomes an extension of himself, thus HIS daughter. It's like Silco's last "fuck you" to Vander by taking Felicia's other daughter as his own.

Overall, I hope to hell it's not some love triangle. Or either man was in love or had a crush on her.

I read some fans saying since the flashbacks are Vander's in S2, we're seeing things from his perspective. I'm all for an unreliable narrator with characters because it keeps things open for interpretation.

But we would need to see this from Silco's perspective, too—not just the drowning/betrayal. Silco sees this as a major factor in the direction his character takes. It's a life-changing moment for him.

We also don't see any flashbacks to the years Silco took care of Jinx after Vander's death. If he knew Jinx's mom, wouldn't that come up? Wouldn't that be something Jinx would remember and influence her?

In S2, she reminisces a few memories of her mom like nothing has happened since. She and Vi act like nothing really happened between them. By the end of S1, the sisters diverge when Jinx decides who she will be. It's Jinx, not Powder. She knows Silco loved her and, more importantly, accepted her for who she was. She was perfect in his eyes.

Plus, Vander's trio flashback seems odd in both animation and backstory choices. Silco looks VERY different than his flashback of the drowning. His hair is much longer (man bun), he has a widow's peak he doesn't have later (weird). He appears to care for Felicia and happy for her being a mom. They made him more physically attractive and older than the flashback in S1E3.

Vander doesn't look like the younger version in Silco's drowning flashback. He looks older too. Animation choices were made that don't match the continuity of the previous season.

We're assuming their smuggling business is doing well if Felicia talks about the Underground being much better for everyone. Are we still giving Vander full credit for that? S1 implies Vander built the Underground both from Grayson and Zaunites.

Silco jokes he is "Bozo #1". To me, he is joking but not in saying he's the mastermind in this duo. Without him, Vander's just a brute.

I'm not sure of Vi's age by S1E1, but maybe she's 10 or 12? So prior to the battle unless a fallout happened with Vander and Silco, why don't we see Silco with the kids? Why do the kids act like they don't know him? If they were such a tight trio with Felicia, why only Vander with the kids?

He fought at the bridge knowing Felicia had two young kids that could be orphaned and was still fighting when the kids showed up. He already knew Felicia was dead but was still fighting.

If her death was too much, why didn't he stop then? The kids appreance stopped him. Okay. I get that. But we don't see Silco anywhere on that bridge, does he know she dead? Is he still fighting? Where is he?

This whole polycule feels like they had to throw it in somewhere but didn't adequately explain it to match the motivations of the characters we have known and studied. It opens more plothole questions than it answers. It creates more problems that did not need to be there.

If Felicia wasn't that important to expand on last season, why do it now and do it poorly that contradicts characterizations already laid down in the whole previous season?

I'll say it again and again: Riot did not plan for it. They didn't think Vander and especially Silco would be so popular, and fans would demand to know more about them.

Plus, another thing that kind of bugged me:

When Vi is embracing Warwick/Vander and tells Jinx "He's your dad too."

Yeah, it's a nice moment, but it's a shit on Silco too. Technically, didn't JInx have more years with Silco than Vander? She saw Silco as her father (although not the best), accepted her, encouraged her skills, gave her important jobs, wouldn't give her up and called her perfect in his dying words.

I guess fuck that dad, right? He is evil dad and now he's dead, doesn't matter anymore.

Did anyone else feel like Jinx turned back into Powder this season? The kicker in S1, is that she CHOSE to be Jinx. IDK. The sisters were real quick to hook back up after everything.

As I've said before, they needed maybe three seasons if they were going this route. No character is getting enough time this season for good story-telling and character development. Too much is getting crammed in one season and it's sad because there is SO much story to work with.

I, for one, would watch another season of these characters. You could take time to explain the Black Rose and Mel's story. Ekko has nothing this season. Jayce doesn't have much. There's very little explaining and too many new questions that won't get answered in one season.

Vi became an Enforcer for half a second. Granted Caitvi only knew each other for maybe a week so for their 'relationship' to fall apart doesn't surprise me. But Cait bouncing back and forth. Jinx bouncing back immediately after Silco's death doesn't make sense since he wasn't the cause of her mental illness.

"Silco didn't create Jinx. You did."

Sister's bond quickly like nothing happened between them. Sevika is suddenly on Jinx's side with little work considering they disliked each so much.

Intro of a new character, Isha.

Viktor turns into Jesus and hangs out in the Big Bang with Sky. I was waiting for Machine Herald and got Jesus Herald.

Ambessa could have a better story but again, I think they needed at least one more season to flesh everything out. It's all too fast and packing way too much into one season of plot for so many characters. The sister's reunion is too fast. We don't get enough info on Warwick yet.

I hope, but they can't tie all this up in three more episodes.

Sorry for the mental vomit, but I've been thinking about this all week, and now it's out like verbal diarrhea. Even though I've enjoyed this season, I can't help but feel disappointed. S1 was so much better.

[isattt]

Part 1 - Warning: Suicide mention.

Tags: Haunted house, anypov (?), yandere level: low.

Theme: romance, spooky? (Not that much)

You stared at your phone, looking incredulously at the screen. The apartment was dirt cheap and thirty minutes from the university you attended. This really can’t be real... there had to be a catch, you knew that meant for sure there was something wrong with it, but as you eyed the price again, you just couldn’t bring yourself to let this opportunity pass, not after looking for so long.

When you first visited, the place appeared abandoned, with cobwebs and covered in a thin layer of dust. The landlord, a formal-looking man, reassured you that all appliances, despite the old appearance, were working perfectly.

“And well, if you need anything fixed, I will do it for you in a heartbeat, alright?” The man says, with a wide charming smile on his face, “Don’t be shy to come to me.” He says, patting away the dust from the top of the microwave.

You eyed the place, your eyes landing back to his. “If you don’t mind me asking... Why is it so cheap?” You ask, noticing the dust covered hoops with half made embroideries of delicate flowers, maybe someone old who passed away...? you think to yourself.

“Heh...” He says, with a humorlessly chuckle to himself, his smile quickly faltering “Well... a guy… he… you know...” He says with a slight tremble to his voice, rubbing his arm nervously “Sorry... It’s hard even thinking about it... I wish I could have done more...”

Your eyes widened slightly, quickly acknowledging what he was trying to say. You looked at him with a sympathetic gaze, taking his words in “Oh, I’m so sorry I… I didn’t realize.“  

“It’s alright, pal.” He says reassuringly, putting on a braver front. “I’m actually more worried about you now, you know? You alright with that?” He walks closer, carefully putting a hand on your shoulder. “Things like these make folks uncomfortable. I myself wouldn’t be able to do it.“

You stare at him, before looking away “Well... it’s pretty disturbing, obviously...-”, you say with a sigh “-but I really need it so...”

“I get you, I do,” He nods. “Hopefully, I can make you feel at home. Call my number if you need something, anything, alright? I really am not kidding,” He furrowed his brows, looking at the piles of hoops with a pensive look “So-” He suddenly clasps his hands together putting on a weaker smile than before “-when you move in it will be all cleaned up, I got you”

You mirrored his small smile with one of your own. “Thanks, Will.”

It’s been one week since you have moved in and you have settled in nicely. William did a good job cleaning everything. When you came back, it was almost like you stepped into a completely different place. Even the air of the place was new and lighter, even if still slightly cold.

Ever since then, nothing unusual has happened. You spend your days the same as any other day, just now in a smaller home than before.

Well, almost nothing unusual. The house was always chilly, making weird noises from time to time, and you often had nightmares about a tall man just standing at the foot of your bed, watching you sleep. But you would not let your paranoia drive you away from the best apartment you’ve found after almost a month of searching. Ghosts, demons, and such didn’t exist, after all. When the semester starts, it will be all worth it, you repeat to yourself, trying to find some solace in this situation.

Once you got home that evening after going out to buy your groceries, you noticed an odd recent addition to your wall, just by the entrance, a CO2 meter. Did William install it while you were gone? It was odd though, you never thought he would be the type of landlord to just enter your place uninvited. It was unlike him to invade your privacy.

You decide to take out your phone. Looking at the contacts, you send a quick message to him, trying to understand his intentions. Could it be something that was scheduled that I didn’t know about?  You thought to yourself as you typed your message, “Hey will, what’s up with the CO2 meter?” You hit send, putting your phone aside for a moment on the counter to unload your groceries.

“CO2 meter?” the screen lights up with his reply. You quickly pick your phone back up to reply, “The one you installed?” you furrow your brows, staring at his text with a confused look. Did he forget?  You keep staring at your screen, anxiously waiting for a reply... 

“I didn’t install a CO2 meter.”

“Is everything okay? Do you need me to come over??”

You suddenly feel the familiar cold from the apartment enveloping your body, making you shiver slightly. What could this even mean for you? Would someone really break inside your place only to put something like this and nothing else...? You for sure needed to take that thing down at least It might be a hidden camera or something.

“I don’t know, to be honest.” You reply to him.

“I looked at the cameras in the hallway for you, but I found nothing, pal.” He said, fixing his glasses on his nose with one hand.

William was sitting at your table, sipping on the cup of tea you had given him. He arrived not much later after your text, coming immediately to check on you. “It’s too damn bad I can’t be more helpful here. Even the cameras on the outside found nothing unusual.” He says, taking another sip of his tea.

You were leaning against the wall, staring at him while holding your own cup of tea, the warmth of the liquid providing you a sliver of comfort in this situation. “It’s okay... this is already better news than I expected,” you say as you shift your weight onto your other leg. “Maybe it was always there and, ugh, I don’t know, maybe I didn’t notice it before.” 

“Well... hah...” He brought the cup to his lips, hesitating before taking a drink of the hot liquid. “I noticed something though...” He continues, “It’s nothing horrible, I mean… It’s just... well, you can see for yourself” He lowered his cup to the table, bringing his phone out of his pocket.

You sit down in the chair by his side, dragging the chair closer to him. When your shoulders touch, William flinches slightly, but keeps the phone in place. You look between his eyes and the screen with a curious look.

The screen of his phone showed you the camera feed of your hallway. The timestamp showed it was around noon, a few hours before you found the CO2 meter on your wall. It was empty, no one coming or going. 

“Around here,” William said, forwarding the video. Nothing changed, still the same empty hallway. Before you could ask him what he had seen, the feed showed your door opening. No one came out, of course. You weren’t at home.

Then… the door closed by itself, the same way it had opened.

“What...” you muttered, staring at the screen with wide eyes. “But I locked the door...”

“I imagined you did.” He looks at you, an uncertain look on his face. “What do you think of setting cameras inside here? I could lend you one of mine.”

“Maybe...” you say, still shaken by what you had seen. You feel the chilly atmosphere of the house again, creeping up your spine. “I wasn’t so much worried about the meter anymore, but this is something else.”

He leans back against his chair, creating some distance between you two as he puts his phone away. “Look, I’m not trying to imply anything, but these sorts of things have been happening all the time. Folks come here, these things happen... they leave.”

He grabs the cup once again, running his finger over the rim of the cup. “I am not one to believe in ghosts, but…”

“If these things exist, at least the fella who is haunting you is the least dangerous ghost you could have, hm?” He says with a small smile, a wistful look on his face.

You raise an eyebrow at his statement, while he could be right, it’s hard to believe, given your circumstances “Well, he is still creeping me out, even if that’s the case...” You say harshly, suddenly feeling the cold air of the room leaving.

He nods understandingly “Mhm, I can understand,” he pauses, emptying his cup of now lukewarm tea and standing up to put the cup on the sink “I don’t know why, but it’s been a lot more active with you than with everyone else... when you sat close to me just now, I felt like someone was staring daggers at me! Hahaha!”

He finishes washing his own cup, walking to stand in front of you. “If you see him, tell him I miss his nerdy ass!” he says, grinning widely. “Let’s just install those cameras so you can sleep easy at night, alright?”

[rispwr]

Hate you - chapter 5 - J.JK

Pairings : ex! Jungkook x ex! Reader

Notes : idc abt the word count anymore lmao. i will accept my fate that i could never get those number word counts lmfaoo. the drama is startinggg- oh hasn't it already began?

Genre : Ex2L, angst, slow burn, fake dating, slice of life, fluff, e2l, corporate rivals, smau, smut

Sypnosis : ‘You were always told that hating someone is the only way it doesn’t hurt but what if you can’t hate him? No matter how hard you try your heart will always find it’s way to his’

2 years after breaking up with your boyfriend of 2 years you were finally on your way to become the ceo of your family’s company your rival turns out to be your ex.

Contents/warnings :

Misunderstood break up, insecurities, mentions of self harms or mental health issues, jk is mean at the start, yelling, sensitive language or words, mentions of family trauma, corporate au, smart (both), mentions of yoongi x oc, mentions of cheating, soon to be ceo! Jk, soon to be ceo! Oc, oc is still named Y/n or {__}, corporate rivals?, fake dating, lack of communication, death of a character, mentions of suicide attempt. not proofread

series masterlist

again?

Jungkook's head pounded as he groggily sat up. He rubbed his temples, wincing at the dull ache. Glancing to the side, he noticed a glass of water and a couple of painkillers on the bedside table. Next to them was a note, its familiar handwriting tugging at his heartstrings.

"You should stop drinking and driving fast at midnight. It's bad for your liver and dangerous."

The note was pinned to a picture frame of the two of you, smiling. He traced his fingers over the image, a small, bittersweet smile forming on his lips.

it wasn't just a note. it was you. It was your concern, your voice, your heart. Even now, after everything. At least you were here, even if only for a moment.

He closed his eyes, letting the ache of longing settle in his chest. This—these fleeting moments—were all he could hold onto now.

Reaching for his phone, Jungkook unlocked it, scrolling through social media out of habit. His thumb stopped dead on the screen as a picture appeared: you and Yoongi, cuddled together on a couch. Your head rested on Yoongi's shoulder, his hand gently tangled in your hair as he smiled down at you. The caption was simple but cut deeper than any knife: "Home."

Jungkook clenched his jaw, biting his lip to stifle the wave of emotion surging within him. His fingers trembled as he stared at the photo, regret burning in his chest. That could've been him. No—it should've been him.

If only he had stayed.

But he hadn't. He had his reasons, though none of them felt valid now. He had convinced himself that leaving was the right thing to do. He hated the gnawing insecurity that whispered he'd never be enough for you, that you deserved more than the flawed, broken man he was. He thought he was doing you a favor by walking away, promising himself he'd come back when he was better, stronger—when he was perfect.

But perfection never came. Time passed, and so did his chances. Now, he was left with nothing but the crushing realization that he had only sabotaged himself. You had moved on, found someone who could give you the love and stability he always struggled to provide.

He let out a bitter laugh, though it carried no humor. He was too late.

Running a hand through his hair, he leaned back against the headboard, the phone slipping from his grip onto the bed. His mind was a storm of regrets and what-ifs, but none of them could change the reality staring back at him.

Jungkook's eyes drifted back to the note, his heart aching with a mixture of longing and acceptance. He'd lost you, but at least you were happy. That's all he had ever wanted for you, even if it meant watching from the sidelines as someone else gave you the love he couldn't.

But it didn't make it hurt any less. 

Jungkook stood up abruptly, his movements shaky yet determined. His eyes, red from tears and alcohol, found yours in the dim light. Without a word, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The embrace was warm yet suffocating, filled with desperation.

"Kook- what are you doing?" you asked softly, your voice barely audible against his chest.

"Let me," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Just... let me hold you. For the last time."

His words hit you like a freight train. The 'last time' echoed in your mind, twisting something deep inside you. Hesitantly, you raised your arms, almost letting them encircle him, but before you could decide, your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you out of the moment.

The vibration was loud, intrusive, and it broke the fragile bubble you and Jungkook had found yourselves in. You gently pushed against his chest, creating some distance.

"Wait," you mumbled, reaching for your phone. The screen lit up with Yoongi's name. Your heart sank further into the storm of emotions swirling within you.

"Hey, Y/N," Yoongi's familiar, comforting voice came through the line. "Where are you? It's getting late."

"Oh, um..." you stammered, your mind racing for an answer. "I'm at a restaurant right now, eating," you lied, hoping it didn't sound as strained as it felt.

"Really? Are you okay? You sound... different," he asked, concern lacing his tone.

You stole a glance at Jungkook, who was watching you closely, his gaze unreadable but intense. His jaw tightened at the mention of Yoongi's name, but he didn't say a word.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, forcing a nervous laugh. "I'm just tired. I'll, uh, see you soon, okay?"

"Are you sure?" Yoongi pressed, his worry evident.

"I'm sure," you said quickly. "I'll call you later. Gotta go!" Without waiting for his response, you ended the call, shoving your phone back into your pocket.

Jungkook took a hesitant step forward, his hand reaching for yours. "Stay," he whispered, his voice raw and pleading. "i don't understand-"

You looked at him, your throat tightening. His expression was unlike anything you'd seen before—hopeful yet broken, desperate yet resigned.

"Kook..." you began, but you couldn't bring yourself to finish.

"Just this once," he said, his voice trembling. "Stay with me."

Your heart ached at the sight of him, but you knew you couldn't. You couldn't let yourself fall back into the same cycle of heartbreak and pain.

"I'm sorry," you said softly, tears pricking your eyes. Gently, you pulled your hand from his and took a step back.

Jungkook's head bowing as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him. He didn't try to stop you this time. He just stood there, watching as you walked away.

As soon as you were out of sight, the tears you'd been holding back spilled over. You pressed your hand to your mouth, trying to stifle your sobs. You hated how much he still affected you, even after everything 

The Next Day

You run your hands through your hair as you waited in the sleek conference room. Today’s meeting was important. a potential collaboration with influential figures in the industry. Securing this deal would not only benefit your company but also solidify your position as a force to be reckoned with in the business world.

You twirled a strand of hair absentmindedly, your mind wandering to the memories of last night. The image of Jungkook’s tear-filled eyes and his broken voice pleading for you to stay was still fresh. Shaking your head, you focused on the present.

The first three representatives had already arrived, exchanging polite greetings and idle chatter as they settled into their seats. You greeted them with a warm smile, but a glance at your watch told you the meeting was running late.

“Where are the last two?” you muttered under your breath, turning to your assistant, who stood nearby.

“I apologize, ma’am,” they whispered. “I wasn’t informed there would be five guests instead of three until this morning.”

You sighed but nodded, waving them off. It wasn’t ideal, but you would manage.

The door opened, and your heart instantly lifted when you saw Yoongi walk in, dressed sharply in a tailored suit. his eyes meets yours, he gave you a subtle smile that sent a wave of reassurance through you..

Behind him came another man. one that made your breath hitch.

Jungkook.

He strode into the room, his black dress shirt perfectly fitted, his expression unreadable, like nothing ever happened last night. His gaze swept across the room until it landed on you.

Your smile faltered, your lips parting slightly in shock as you stared at him. It was like the air had been sucked out of you.

He met your gaze briefly before looking away. He took the seat across from you, and it felt like all eyes were on you now.

Yoongi sat beside him, his expression neutral, though you noticed his jaw tighten for a moment. He glanced at you, his subtle nod urging you to refocus.

Clearing your throat, you forced a polite smile and looked at the group. “O-Okay. Let’s start, shall we?”

You gestured toward your assistant, who quickly connected the presentation slides.

The meeting room had finally emptied, leaving only you and Yoongi. As he adjusted his watch, he turned to you with a slightly apologetic smile.

“I’ve got to rush- urgent family dinner,” he explained, his tone regretful.

You nodded, understanding. “Okay! Tell them I said hi,” you replied with a genuine grin, waving as he turned to leave.

He raised a hand in acknowledgment without looking back, his quick steps taking him out of the building.

You gathered your things and began walking toward the elevator. As you rounded a corner, lost in thought, your heel caught on the edge of the carpet. A gasp escaped your lips as you stumbled forward, bracing for the hard impact of the floor.

But it never came.

Strong arms caught you mid-fall, steadying you. The familiar scent hit you before the voice did.

“You should be more careful, y’know?”

Your heart stopped.

The world seemed to freeze as your eyes darted upward, meeting the face you thought you’d left behind in your mind.

Jungkook.

The murmur of workers broke the moment.

“Isn’t that Ms. Kim and Mr. Jeon?” “Didn’t they break up?” “Are they back together?”

You glanced around, spotting several employees discreetly snapping pictures and whispering amongst themselves. The realization made your blood boil.

Quickly, you pulled away from Jungkook’s grasp, straightening your outfit as you shot him a glare.

His lips curled into an infuriating smirk. “No ‘thank you’?” he teased, his tone as casual as ever.

You rolled your eyes, your irritation boiling over. “Thank you,” you snapped, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Without waiting for his response, you spun on your heel and walked away, your pace hurried as you headed toward the nearest restroom. 

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[numbuh24insane]

Bowser vs Eggman: The Aftermath, Sonic's Realization

Restoration HQ

The Restoration's base hummed with quiet industry, a symphony of activity unfolding in the sprawling headquarters. Engineers tinkered with machines, repairing damaged equipment salvaged from the frontlines of battles past. Analysts poured over maps and reports, ensuring the Restoration could respond to any crisis at a moment’s notice. Volunteers bustled through the corridors, distributing supplies to be shipped to remote villages still recovering from the scars left by Eggman’s takeover.

Near the central operations hub, Tails oversaw a group of technicians calibrating a new detection system, his twin tails flicking with excitement as he explained the upgrades. In another corner, Belle hummed a song as she worked on long overdue repairs, her focus undeterred by the chatter of Jewel's logistical assistants organizing supply runs. The day was typical, steady, and predictable. Something that was becoming more and more common in this fantastical world.

Sonic leaned against a safety rail on the upper balcony overlooking the main floor, his arms crossed casually as he took in the scene. Below, a pair of members chuckled at the antics of Rough and Tumble on a monitor. The bumbling skunk duo had tried robbing a supply caravan earlier that week, only to be thwarted by Whisper and Tangle.

"You know," Sonic idly started as Amy came up behind him, "This place runs like a well-oiled machine. Kinda weird seeing it so . . . calm."

Amy smiled. "It’s what we wanted, right? To rebuild without having to fend off badniks every day."

"Yeah, I guess." He tapped a foot idly against the ground. "Just feels like it’s been too quiet. The biggest threats these days are Rough and Tumble making a mess of some random store or Clutch trying to pull off another shady deal. Hardly the kind of thing that gets my blood pumping."

"Maybe that’s a good thing," Amy said, looking at him. "We’re not supposed to need you to be the hero all the time, Sonic. The Restoration can handle the small stuff."

“And I’m here to clean up the big stuff . . . but nothing big has happened in months. I can’t even remember the last time Eggman pulled one of his ‘I’m-gonna-conquer-the-world’ stunts. Man, I just can’t shake the feeling that something big is going to happen, that it’s just right around the corner. If that makes sense.”

"It does," Amy admitted, her tone thoughtful. "I mean, after everything with Starfall Islands, I thought we’d have a new crisis by now. But Eggman’s been completely off the radar."

"Maybe he’s finally throwing in the towel," Sonic said, tilting his head back and gazing at the ceiling. "You know, after losing Sage . . . I think that hit him harder than he’d ever admit. She was like a daughter to him."

Amy frowned, taking in this new information. "You really think that’s enough to stop him? Eggman’s a lot of things, but giving up isn’t one of them. If anything, he’s probably using this quiet time to build something even more dangerous."

"Maybe," Sonic said, tapping his chin in thought. "Or maybe he’s finally realized there��s more to life than building giant ego-machines. I like to think losing Sage might’ve made him . . . rethink things."

Amy glanced at him, her expression softening. "You always see the best in people, even someone like Eggman. But I don’t think he’ll ever stop being Eggman. He’s always scheming, Sonic. Always."

Sonic smirked, the corner of his mouth curling as he turned to face her. "Well, if he is planning something, we’ll handle it. Like always." He tapped the rail. "But for now? I’m gonna enjoy the peace. Even if it is a bit boring."

Before Sonic and Amy could exchange another word, the lights flickered ominously across the Restoration’s base. A sharp crackle of static blared through the speakers, drawing everyone’s attention. The monitors scattered throughout the facility turned black for a brief moment before the familiar crimson insignia of the Eggman Empire appeared with the text ‘Please Stand by’.

The room erupted in confusion and alarm. Restoration workers scrambled to consoles, engineers fumbled with emergency protocols, and Tails bolted to the main control panel, barking orders to the tech team. Above it all, Sonic remained leaning against the rail, his grin widening.

"Well, well," He said with an amused chuckle. "Speak of the devil. Let’s see what ol’ Egg for brains has been plotting!" He could feel that surge of excitement and adventure rise up within him.

"If you are seeing this," Eggman began, his tone uncharacteristically serious, “Then I am dead."

A stunned silence fell over the room. Even Sonic’s grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a raised eyebrow of genuine surprise. Amy’s eyes widened before shaking her head with disbelief.

Eggman continued, his image flickering as though the message were pre-recorded. "Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking. 'Is this some sort of trick?' Let me assure you, if this message is playing, then I have shuffled off this mortal coil.”

He paused dramatically, letting the words sink in before throwing his arms out in mock despair. "Tragic, isn’t it? The world has lost its greatest genius! A monumental loss for science, for civilization, for Mobius itself! But don’t mourn me too much! I’m sure my end was spectacularly dramatic!" The scientist laughed, twirling his mustache.

Eggman continued, his tone shifting to a speculative drawl. "Speaking of which, I’m curious. What could possibly have done me in? Was it one of my magnificent plans going down in flames? Did one of my creations rebel and finally catch me off guard? Or . . . " He grinned, pointing straight at the camera. ". . . did you finally do it, Sonic?" He leaned back stroking his chin as he considered the possibility,”If so, I do wonder what prompted you to do it. I had to have had a truly devilish marvel of a scheme to get you to finally cross that line.”

Eggman suddenly retracted, waving his hand dismissively. “Ah, who am I kidding? You’d never do it. No, no, no you’re too soft. Always playing hero, always keeping me alive so we can do this little dance forever. Ohohoho!”

Amy crossed her arms, annoyed.. “He’s still insufferable as always.”

Eggman wiped a tear from his eye before continuing his spiel, “But fear not Sonic, even if I’m gone you’ll still have quite the foe on your hands! Should Metal Sonic still be operational, and really, why wouldn’t he be? I built him to perfection. Then my empire is in capable hands. Metal will carry my legacy, and he will succeed where I could not. He will destroy you, Sonic. Oh yes, your days are numbered. Even now, I’m sure he’s already formulating the best way to turn you into a smoldering pile of ash! How proud I am!”

The screen glitched momentarily, then Eggman continued, his expression softening into a smug grin. “Of course, I can’t leave without a personal touch. I’ve prepared special messages for each of you. Think of them as parting gifts from beyond the grave! They should be arriving . . . oh, about now.”

As the video cut off, the Eggman Empire logo pulsed on the screens, and then, one by one, the Restoration’s systems began rebooting. Almost immediately, individual monitors across the room displayed specific names: Sonic, Belle, Amy, Tails, and others.

“He can’t be dead, can he?” Belle questioned, her wooden body rigid and eyes wide with disbelief. She was shaking, almost to the point of breaking. The poor puppet jumped as Tails placed his hand upon her back and got her to calm down.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Sonic uttered out, for once he didn’t have his casual smile upon his face. The wind seemed to have been taken out of his sails. One by one each of them approached a different monitor, wondering what kind of message Eggman had left for them.

Sonic leaned forward, his finger hovering over the notification bearing his name. The air around him felt heavy now, the reality of Eggman’s proclamation beginning to set in. He steadied his shaking finger and tapped the screen.

The screen lit up again, revealing a new recording of Dr. Eggman. This time, the background was less ominous. It was his usual workshop, cluttered with half-finished machines and screens displaying blueprints of his countless schemes. Eggman lounged in his oversized hover chair, a smug grin plastered on his face. That grin while still as smug as ever, seemed less performative and much more natural, as though this part was meant for Sonic and Sonic alone.

"Sonic," he began, spreading his arms grandly, "If you’re watching this, then congratulations you’ve outlived me. Bask in the glory of knowing you survived the greatest mind in history! I’m sure you’re standing there, smirking like you always do, thinking you’ve won. But let’s not get too carried away. Because if there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you’ll never really consider this a win. Not against me"

Sonic nodded, it was true. He never wanted to see Eggman die. He always dreamt that Eggman would have a change of heart, that he would re-adopt that Mr. Tinker persona and work on making the world a better place. That was what victory meant to the Blue Blur, not this.

Anything but this.

"You know, Hedgehog, you’ve been the proverbial thorn in my side for years, and yet . . . I can’t say I ever hated it. Not truly. Sure, you’re insufferable, cocky, and annoyingly fast, but you’ve also been . . . entertaining. From our first little dance back on South Island to our more ambitious confrontations, like, oh, I don’t know, the time I turned you into a werehog . . . Not one of my brightest moments, mind you. But the point still stands! You pushed me, Sonic. Forced me to innovate, to improve, to strive for perfection. The brutal truth is that I am glad that you foiled my plans, it made my future endeavors all the more worth it."

"But," Eggman snapped, his voice snapping back to its usual boisterousness, "Don’t let this go to your head! Even dead I’m still smarter than you in every conceivable way. GAH! If I’d had just a little more time, I would have won! Make no mistake about that!” He pounded his fist against the table before calming himself down,”I’ll admit . . . there were times I almost respected you. Almost."

Sonic let out a soft smirk, understanding that was a confession of respect from the egomaniac.

The workshop around Eggman seemed almost smaller now, the man himself quieter despite the bombast in his words. "But alas, here we are. I’m gone, and you’re still here. I know you’ll carry on, saving the day and being that insufferable do-gooder you’ve always been. And honestly?" He allowed himself a small, almost wistful smile. "The world’s better for it. If I can't take over the world, then you better ensure that no one else will!"

Sonic’s hands dropped to his sides, the faint ache of realization settling in his chest. This wasn’t just another one of Eggman’s melodramatic speeches. For the first time, the finality of it all began to sink in.

He hated this.

This was something that he couldn’t run from, that he couldn’t use his prowess to overcome. Eggman was gone . . . and that fact truly hurt the carefree blue blur.

Sage had asked him to look after Eggman. Those were her final words, for him to ensure that her father would continue to live, for them to make up their differences. And he had failed that little girl, and he had failed himself.

Eggman straightened, his expression shifting to something sterner. "But enough sentimentality! I saved the most important part of this message for last." He tapped the side of his chair, and a familiar figure appeared on the screen beside him. "Sage."

Sonic's eyes went wide as he pressed his head against the screen.

Sage was gone, why was Eggman bringing her back up?

Eggman let out a confident smirk,”I managed to save her, Sonic. I scoured the Starfall Islands and all of Cyberspace, finding the remnant parts of her code, stitching it all back together and nursing her back to health! I succeeded where you failed her!” He uttered out, pressing his finger against the camera.

“She’s alive!?” Sonic shouted out, prompting glances from other Restoration members. A soft grin emerged upon his face,”Of course she is . . . It’s Eggman after all.” He was a miracle worker, always able to do the impossible.

“I’ve already integrated her into the Eggnet. She’s protected now, there won’t be any incidents such as what happened last time, and she WILL outlast me.” Eggman guaranteed, having worked long and hard to ensure Sage’s longevity and survival.

The image on the screen pointed directly at Sonic, his gaze sharp and serious. "And here’s the kicker, since I’m gone, I need someone to look after her. Someone who understands her. Someone who . . . " He hesitated, as if the words tasted strange in his mouth. " . . . who can help her find her place in this world. That someone, Sonic, is you."

The weight of the words hit Sonic like a freight train. The usually confident, quick-witted hedgehog found himself at a loss.

"I know what you’re thinking," Eggman said, his smirk returning faintly. "Why would I trust you with something so precious to me? The truth is, I don’t. But you’re the best shot she’s got. You’re . . . a hero, after all. And for what it’s worth, I think Sage would have liked that."

Eggman leaned back in his chair, a glimmer of something almost human in his eyes. "So, there you have it, Sonic. My final request. My final challenge. Take care of my daughter. And try not to screw it up." He then let out a grin,”And if you do? Then I’ll find a way to rise up from the grave and get you! Oh-hohoho!”

Sonic stood there absorbing Eggman’s last request as he heard the wicked scientist laugh for one final time.

The message ended abruptly, the screen fading to black. For a moment, the bustling sounds of the Restoration felt distant, muffled. Sonic stared at the blank monitor, his chest heavy. He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat.

Sonic jumped as he felt a hand land upon his shoulder. His head spun around as he saw Amy looking at him, concern clear in her eyes. She ushered him over to where Tails was comforting Belle. The four of them found a nearby table, a heavy silence was practically smothering them as they sat there.

Belle shuddered.

Amy gently placed a hand on Belle's arm, her usual energy tempered with concern. "Belle . . . do you want to talk about it?"

Belle hadn’t spoken yet, her head still bowed. Belle’s hands trembled as she finally looked up, her voice quivering. "H-he called me his daughter." The room fell silent, all eyes turning to her.

"He said . . ." She paused, wiping at her wooden cheek with her sleeve. "He said he never understood the value of family until Sage. But that . . . he regrets not seeing it sooner. Regrets not seeing me as his daughter while he still had the chance." Her voice cracked, and a tear slid down her face, glinting like dew. "He hoped I could accept Sage as my sister. That we could . . . be a family. Even without him."

Amy moved closer, placing a gentle hand on Belle’s shoulder. "Belle . . ."

"But he’s not my father," Belle said quickly, her voice defensive and firm, though the tears kept falling. "My father was Mr. Tinker. Not him. Not-" She stopped, squeezing her eyes shut. "I don’t know what to feel. He hurt so many people. Hurt me by becoming him again. And yet . . ." She shook her head, her voice breaking. "I still wanted to hear those words."

Sonic stood, his face unusually serious as he placed a hand on Belle’s shoulder. "For what it’s worth, Belle . . . Mr. Tinker was real. He was Eggman, just without all the bad stuff clouding his mind. And if that version of him could care about you, maybe that means the Eggman we knew had some of that deep down, too."

Belle’s wooden fingers tightened into fists as she looked at him. "Do you think he really meant it? That he wanted us to be . . . sisters?"

Sonic gave her a small, reassuring smile. "From what he said in my message? Yeah. I think he did. He talked about Sage too, about how much she meant to him. And I think you meant as much to him as Sage does."

Belle bowed her head, letting the tears flow.

Tails frowned as he pat her back, trying to help his friend in her grief.

"Well, I don’t know what I expected, but that message was . . . something else." He crossed his arms, his twin tails flicking behind him. "Typical Eggman, though. Started off talking about how he was the greatest genius of all time y'know, classic 'Doctor Ego', but then he said something about me being . . . what was it? 'The second-smartest mind to ever grace this world.'" He snorted, but there was a small, conflicted smile on his face.

Amy leaned forward, curious. "Wait, second-smartest? That’s a compliment coming from him!"

Sonic smirked, reaching over to ruffle Tails’ fur. "Well, you are the smartest guy I know, little bro. Took Eggman long enough to catch on."

"Yeah, but then he said, 'With me gone, I suppose you’ll finally have a chance to take the top spot. Don't mess it up, Prower. Not that you’ll ever match my heights!' Like he couldn’t resist one last dig." Tails shook his head, but the faint admiration in his tone was undeniable. "Still . . . hearing him admit that? It means a lot, I guess."

Sonic glanced over at Amy,”What about you Ames? What did Eggman say to you?”

Amy looked down at the table, her brow furrowed. “Mine wasn’t much better. He said I should stop chasing after you, Sonic.” Her voice wavered slightly, but she pushed through. “‘It’s unbecoming,’ he said. And that I’m wasting my potential, that I’d be better off focusing on myself instead of clinging to someone who doesn’t share my feelings.” She huffed, trying to mask the hurt. “Then he called me ‘stubborn to a fault’ and said I’d probably ignore his advice anyway. But . . .” she hesitated, her voice softening. “He said I’m stronger than I think. That’s . . . the only nice thing he said.”

Amy sighed, “He wasn’t completely wrong, was he? Maybe I do need to focus on myself more. I’ve been thinking about that for a while now.”

“You’re all right to feel how you feel. Eggman’s always been full of himself, but this . . . this is something else.” Sonic rubbed the back of his head, his eyes darting away. “It’s weird, you know? He’s always been there, always scheming, always chasing me down with his machines. And now he’s just . . . gone?”

The room fell silent again, the weight of Eggman’s absence settling over them.

Sonic pushed off the table and stood upright, his tone shifting to something more determined. “I can’t just sit here and let this stew. I’ve got to find Sage, and I’ve got to get some answers.”

Amy stood up, worry etched on her face. “Sonic, wait. It could be a trap. Eggman’s always been two steps ahead, even when it looks like he’s lost.”

Sonic gave her a half-smile, the sadness still lingering in his eyes. “Maybe. But I’ve got to get some answers. I owe it to all of us to figure out what’s going on.” Without another word, he turned and bolted from the room in a blur of blue, the air crackling in his wake.

Amy sighed heavily, crossing her arms again. “That hedgehog . . . He’ll never change.”

Tails leaned forward, a soft smile on his face. “Don’t worry, he’ll be okay. He’s Sonic after all.”

Belle wiped her face, her voice soft but resolute. “He’ll find her. He always does.” She paused, “And when he does, I’ll have my own questions for Sage. About him. About all of this.”

Eggman Land

Sonic raced through the countryside, the wind roaring in his ears, his mind churning. As he neared Eggman Land, the imposing theme park/fortress loomed over the horizon, its garish lights and towering structures stark against the twilight sky. Yet, something was off . . . there were no patrols, no badniks racing out to intercept him.

The gates were wide open, the rides whirred and the neon lights shined bright, but not a single soul in sight. It felt as though the place had been abandoned in a hurry, left on autopilot. Sonic slowed his pace, the eerie silence pressing down on him. His instincts screamed that something wasn’t right, but he pressed forward, weaving through the empty attractions until he reached the central tower.

As he entered it, he noticed the broken pieces of glass that littered the floor. Moving his gaze upwards revealed the monitors that were all destroyed, laid in ruins. One cracked monitor had Eggman upon it announcing his death in repeat. He finally turned his gaze to the center of the room and saw a man there, leaning forward at a console. He wore a black suit that was currently unkempt, shards of glass hanging loose off of the sleeves.

It was Agent Stone.

One of, if not the most loyal of Eggman’s followers.

Sonic took a step forward, glass crunching under feet. The sound alerted Stone to his presence, the man twisted around gripping a wrench as he faced the blue blur,”You!” He growled out with a rage that Sonic had never seen before. “You’re not allowed to be here! This place is sacred! A monument to the Doctor’s genius!”

Sonic gave a sheepish smile as he raised up his arms in surrender,”Woah! Don’t worry, I’m not here to mess with Eggheads stuff, I’m just here to get some answers. Such as . . . “ Sonic disappeared in a burst of speed, reappearing directly in front of Stone, the wrench wrenched out of his hand. The man fell back onto his chair in surprise,”Such as what happened to Eggman.”

Stone felt his own powerlessness as he turned his head away from the Hedgehog. “He’s not dead.” His voice was full of pain,”He can’t be dead. The Doctor doesn’t die . . . he always has a plan! He is a genius! The greatest genius! D-death is something that can’t apply to him.” His voice broke,”He wasn’t supposed to be gone for this long.”

Sonic’s head tilted as he caught the last part of Stone’s grief-filled speech,”What do you mean, he wasn’t supposed to be gone for this long?” He asked.

Stone glared at the Hedgehog, but gave in as he saw the sheer concern in Sonic's eyes,” . . . Months ago, the Doctor was studying the limits of the warp topaz. It opened a portal to a whole new universe. At first, Eggman wasn’t interested in it. It was far too underdeveloped compared to our universe, that was before he caught sight of a kidnapping attempt and discovered the Koopa Kingdom.”

“Koopa Kingdom?” Sonic questioned,”Never heard of it.”

“Of course you haven’t.” Stone blinked,”I just told you it was from a different universe!” He leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh,”That Koopa Kingdom held a tremendous power and seemed as ambitious as the Doctor, so the Doctor decided to conquer it before it could become a threat to his own plans . . . “ Not to mention he wanted the power that Bowser held for himself. “There was a time table and plans he had to transport his whole army to this new universe, to execute Operation Catfish and then conquer it with one big battle . . . Only, I haven’t heard anything from the Doctor since he left.”

Sonic nodded, everything was beginning to fall into place here. It was like old times, Eggman finding some power that no one knew about and trying to get it for his own ends. It goes badly and now it's time for Sonic to bail him out.

He let out a smirk.

“Stone, you can transport me there, right?” Sonic asked, ready to go out and save Eggman and Sage.

Stone blinked, then narrowed his eyes. “Why would I do that? You’re his enemy. If anything, I should kick you out of here!”

“Think about it,” Sonic grinned. “If Eggman’s stuck in some other universe, you’re not exactly going to get a postcard from him. I’m fast enough to get in, find out what’s going on, and get back before you can even finish another cup of coffee. What have you got to lose?”

Stone turned back to the console, his fingers flying over the keys. “There’s a portal generator in the lower levels. I’ll activate it and set the coordinates to the universe that the Doctor went to.”

Sonic gave a confident grin. “Thanks, Stone. I owe you one.”

“Don’t thank me,” Stone muttered. “Just . . . bring him back.”

Sonic nodded and turned to leave, his mind racing. “Hang tight, Egghead,” he said under his breath. “I’m coming for you.” With that he disappeared into a blue blur as he sprinted downstairs and into the portal below.

KOOPA KINGDOM

The transition was instantaneous yet disorienting. For a moment, Sonic felt weightless, as if he were floating in an endless void. Then, with a sudden burst of light, he was propelled out of the portal and into a vast, vibrant landscape.

He landed on his feet, skidding to a stop atop a hill covered in bright green grass. The sky was a brilliant blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds. The air was warm and carried the faint scent of flowers, reminding him of home, of Green Hill Zone.

He shot out in a burst of speed, rolling around at the speed of sound. He crossed each and every hill as he searched and searched. His leg collided with something hard and caused him to trip. He groaned as he twisted himself around and gasped. What his foot had collided with was the remnants of metal sonic. His entire lower body had been eviscerated, his upper body remained in three separate parts.

“Metal.” Sonic uttered out, expecting and hoping for the robot's eyes to light up, but there was nothing. It remained dim and Sonic felt a lump form in his throat as he questioned what could possibly hold the power to destroy Metal Sonic.

“Can’t stay here.” He reminded himself and continued forth. Each and every step he became more and more worried, as questions ran through his head. After all, he knew that Eggman would never leave Metal there, not like that.

He bounded over a Hill and became privy to a scene of utter carnage. In the distance, the Egg Dragoon was hoisted in the air, its body having a massive spike of Earth through it. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Eggman’s body, but breathed out a sigh as he realized that was just one of his D3COYs. His head swiveled around, going over the sea of badnik parts and seeing the disembodied head of the Death Egg Robot.

“What happened here?” Sonic muttered out, a tinge of fear in his voice. He jogged down hill, going straight towards that head . . . but stopped as he caught sight of the Egg Mobile. It was cracked, left in a derelict state.

What’s more was the fact that it was completely made out of stone.

It was over.

Sonic knew that it was over. That Eggman came here to conquer and he lost everything. After all, the Egg Mobile was always his last line of defense. It was how he always escaped and survived, not even a blackhole would destroy it. It was a safety net for the Mad Scientist, that no matter how bad things became, he could always escape it via the Egg Mobile.

But here it was.

Broken.

Just like everything else around here. From Metal Sonic to the Death Egg Robot, there was no way that Eggman survived.

Sonic sat down, leaning his back against the cold stone. His gaze moved up to the clouds, wishing that things could be different. Wishing that he had followed through on what Sage had asked of him at Starfall Island and that he checked up on the mad scientist.

For a long moment, Sonic said nothing. Then, his voice broke the stillness, soft and almost hesitant. “So . . . this is it, huh?” Sonic said softly, as if Eggman could hear him. “Leaving without ever truly saying goodbye. You always had to make things dramatic, didn’t you?”

The silence stretched around him, the wind rustling faintly through the distant grass. Sonic rubbed the back of his neck, forcing a small, bitter chuckle. “You know, for all your evil schemes, you were never boring. I kinda liked the challenge, you always kept me on my toes.” He smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Even after all the times I trashed your plans, you never gave up. Always bouncing back, always coming up with something new . . . .”

Sonic chuckled, running a hand through his fur. “I know I give you a hard time, but I always thought . . . maybe one day, you’d change. You had it in you. I mean, look at Belle. Look at Sage. You’re capable of more than just destruction, y’know? You can create such fantastic things, I know if you put your genius into it, you could’ve made a better world. I mean, look at how much joy you created back when you were Mr. Tinker.”

He sighed, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. “I just . . . I wish things could’ve been different. That maybe, just once, you’d decided to fight with us instead of against us. You always said you wanted to conquer the world, but I think what you really wanted was to prove something. To yourself. To everyone.”

Sonic leaned his head back, closing his eyes as the sun warmed his face. “You were the biggest pain in my butt, but . . . it was fun. The races, the battles, the smack talk, it was all a game to you, wasn’t it? And, yeah, I had fun too. More than I’d ever admit out loud.”

Sonic got up to his feet, staring over at the Egg Mobile. “I’m going to look for Sage, I know you wouldn’t have put her in harm's way. I’ll find her and bring her back home. I owe it to the both of you.”

He raised up his arms and fist bumped the machine.

“Thanks for the memories, Doc.”

With that he sped away.

[otomehoneyybearr]

Kagari Amagase

Things I can Only Do With You at Night: Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Card

A few days later—I found myself running around town alongside Prince Kagari.

Emma: "Good work out there! I’ve placed the signs and flyers in the designated locations!"

Kagari: "I’ve picked up the supplies. I’ll leave them here."

The corner of an inn serving as the festival’s operations headquarters was overflowing with packages.

A staff member at the counter poked his head out, bowing repeatedly as he rushed over.

Man: "Thank you so much! You’ve been a great help."

Man: "I must admit, I was startled when Prince Kagari arrived, but having extra hands is always welcome."

Man: "Still, Miss Emma, you’re a visitor from another country. Are you sure you’re okay with this?"

Emma: "Yes! In fact, helping out is a great way to learn more about the town, so it’s a win-win for me."

Kagari: "You seem like the type who gets taken advantage of easily."

Emma: "…Are you really one to talk, Prince Kagari?"

●●●●●● Flashback ●●●●●●

Kagari: "Among all the regions in Kogyoku, my territory is relatively the safest. It even attracts a fair number of tourists."

Kagari: "Even if this festival is small in scale, it has more liveliness and entertainment than festivals in other territories." Kagari: “Which is why—you’re going to help with the festival preparations, Princess."

●●●●●● Flashback End ●●●●●●

Emma: "If you’re going to say that, then I’ll demand five dorayaki as payment instead of just one!"

Kagari: "...? Who said anything about one? I was planning to give you twenty."

Emma: "That’s way too many for me to eat!"

Kagari: "Then I’ll help you eat them. Problem solved, right? No leftovers to worry about."

Emma "But it’s supposed to be MY reward. Isn’t this just benefiting you, Prince Kagari?"

Man: "Haha, you two get along well. Still, I’m surprised Prince Kagari has a girlfriend!"

(Ah… there it is again…)

I’d already heard that comment dozens of times since arriving in town, but I still wasn’t used to it.

Emma: "Um, no, we’re not a couple."

Man: "Really? Then are you long-lost siblings? Or newlyweds, maybe…?"

Kagari: "None of the above."

Man: "I see… It’s just unusual to see Prince Kagari with a woman, so everyone was talking about it…"

From the corner of my eye, I saw Prince Kagari sigh quietly, looking slightly annoyed but still expressionless.

Kagari: "It’s always the same kind of talk wherever we go. It’s starting to feel tedious correcting them."

Kagari: "Maybe it’d be easier if I just made it true."

Emma: "Th-that’s obviously not an option!"

Kagari: "Relax, it’s a joke. Don’t take it so seriously. Your face is red."

(He’s teasing me!)

Kagari: "Still, even if I correct them, people might assume you’re my favorite which might actually be more convenient that way."

Emma: "Huh?"

Kagari: "Let’s go, Princess. We still have work to do."

Emma: "Oh, right."

(He brushed past that like it was nothing, but what does he mean by ‘favorite’…?)

(And why is he okay with the townspeople thinking I’m this…?)

Even if it didn’t matter to him, the thought left me feeling awkward and self-conscious. I’d need to steel myself every time I walked through the town from now on.

(Come to think of it, why did Prince Kagari ask me to help with the festival preparations?)

(From the conversation with the kids earlier, it didn’t seem like they were short on people…)

As I mulled it over, I walked toward a pile of wooden crates and checked a sheet of paper nearby.

(Next, we’re supposed to deliver these supplies to the sweets shop… Oh.)

As I reached for one of the crates, a hand appeared beside me and effortlessly lifted the crate away.

The crate should have been filled with heavy items like flour and fruit, yet Prince Kagari’s expression remained composed.

Kagari: "Your job is to guide me to the sweets shop, Princess."

Kagari: "You’ve been running around all morning, so you should know the way by now."

Emma: "Understood. Um, thank you."

The sudden subtle kindness made my heart skip a beat.

At the same time, I couldn’t ignore the stares from the people busy with the festival preparations.

(…It really feels like everyone’s convinced I’m Prince Kagari’s ‘favorite.’)

The destination for the delivery was the shop owned by the family of the boy I had met at the dojo.

Boy: "Miss, you were so excited about the festival, but you didn’t get invited by Teacher, huh?"

Emma: "I never wanted him to invite me, nor did I want to go with him, you know."

Boy: "…Oh, yeah, I guess you’re right."

While I waited outside for Prince Kagari and the shop owner to finish their conversation, the boy gave me a look of pity.

I swallowed the faint frustration I felt.

Boy: "Oh!"

As if suddenly remembering something, the boy dashed inside the shop and quickly returned.

He handed me a long, slender wooden box.

Boy: "Here, take this. These sakura sparklers are sold a lot during festivals here in Kogyoku."

Boy: "They might not seem like much to us, but they could be something unique for someone from another country."

Emma: "Wow, how pretty! Thank you!"

When I opened the lid of the box, I found several delicate, pink-colored sparklers inside.

(I’d heard about these from the owner, but this is my first time seeing them.)

The tips of the thinly twisted paper were filled with gunpowder, and each handle was adorned with a single sakura flower.

Boy: "Oh, by the way, did you know?"

Boy: "There’s a legend in Kogyoku that—"

.....

(A legend in Kogyoku.... I wonder what is was?)

Just as he was about to explain, Prince Kagari stepped out of the shop, and I didn’t get to hear the rest.

On the day of the festival, the town was bustling with excitement.

Lanterns adorned with sakura patterns and rows food stalls lined the streets, filling the town with vibrant colors and happy faces.

Carefully navigating through the crowd, I wandered from stall to stall, soaking in the atmosphere of the Kogyoku festival.

Stall Owner: "Here you go. One extra skewer of dango, on the house!"

Stall Owner: "Is Prince Kagari not with you?"

Emma: "No, I haven’t seen him today."

(I thought I might have the chance to bump into him, but finding him in this crowd seems impossible.)

(Actually, knowing how busy he is, he might not even be here.)

Suppressing the inexplicable sigh welling up inside me, I thanked the stall owner.

Stall Owner: "Miss Emma, here’s another skewer, on the house! Eat up and enjoy the festival to your heart’s content!"

Emma: "Thank you so much! I’ll enjoy it!"

(This feels more like a consolation gift.)

I accepted the dango, feeling both happy and slightly apologetic, and slipped away from the stall.

.....

Finding a quiet back alley to avoid the crowd, I began savoring the food I’d bought at the stalls when—

Kagari: "You’re eating that with real enthusiasm, Princess."

Emma: "gulp… Cough…! Pr-Prince Kagari!?"

I looked up in shock as Prince Kagari suddenly descended from the rooftop without a sound.

I should’ve been happy to see him, but his sudden, stealthy arrival startled me so much I nearly choked.

(He’s a prince, but he moves like a spy.)

Before I could recover, he casually grabbed my arm and took a bite of the skewer of colorful, sweet bean-paste-topped dango I was holding.

Emma: "Don’t steal bites of my food!"

Kagari: "You’re the one who made it look so delicious. You’d make an excellent food advertiser."

Kagari: "Here, finish the last bite before it gets cold."

Kagari: "Or would you prefer me to feed you?"

Emma: "I can manage, thank you."

(…From the way he’s acting, he probably doesn’t even think twice about this kind of thing.)

I glanced at the now slightly nibbled dango, steeling myself to eat the last bite.

The heat rising in my cheeks made it hard to focus on the flavor.

Kagari: "Are you enjoying the festival?"

Emma: "Yes! The sakura-themed food and decorations are adorable, and the unfamiliar music makes it more exciting!"

Emma: "Also, the shopkeepers were incredibly kind and gave me more than I could ever eat."

Kagari: "The people in this territory are naturally friendly and generous. They’re the type who thrive on camaraderie."

Kagari: "Looks like you’ve been well-received, Princess."

Emma: "That makes me happy to know that."

Prince Kagari’s eyes softened slightly with satisfaction as he reached into his pocket.

Kagari: "Here, take this."

Emma: "Huh?—Mmph!"

Without warning, Prince Kagari gently cupped my chin, prying my mouth open with his thumb before tossing something inside.

(Huh…? Candy? Wait, this flavor…)

Kagari: "It’s a dorayaki-flavored candy. I had it specially commissioned and supervised its production myself."

Emma: "Your passion for dorayaki is truly impressive."

Emma: "The flavor is spot-on. If it were a product, I’d definitely buy it."

Kagari: "It’ll be on sale at the confectionery shop starting tomorrow. Make sure to support it."

As the candy melted on my tongue, the taste of dorayaki spread in my mouth, creating a strange yet delightful sensation.

(I should stop by and buy some tomorrow.)

(I knew Prince Kagari loved dorayaki, but to go so far as to create a candy… I underestimated him.)

(He’s the type to pour himself entirely into the things he loves.)

Emma: "Wait… Prince Kagari?"

When I looked up, Kagari had vanished without a trace.

The lingering taste of the candy reassured me that the events just now were real, even though his sudden departure left a strange sense of emptiness.

(I guess he was on duty after all.)

(Maybe he called out to me because he happened to see me…)

(If so, I’d be happy...though that’s probably not it.)

Shaking off my hopeful thoughts, I felt a small pang of loneliness as the candy melted away.

(...It’s so quiet now.)

Prev | Next

▼・ᴥ・▼

[stoutguts]

My own personal Hybrid AU??? (Also, Omegaverse). Chock full of my own personal headcanons and ideas. Unorganized/kind of rambling, really just trying to put all my thoughts to paper.

PART 3

(wish I could include everything I wrote in one post, but I yapped too much—)

Ghost is quite aggressive and brooding, the recruits fear it, find it scary or unapproachable. The deadliest and most dangerous man in the entire SAS,—no doubt. Downright cynical and impulsive, at worst. This inherent hostility and him always being on guard, this suspiciousness and unease around strangers, was not only born from his traumatic past and childhood,—but inherited from the inner mechanisms of his father’s wild nature,—he’s part wolf after all. Despite that though, the Great Pyrenees in them is just as strong,—(something of their mother’s gentle spirit lives on in them),—affectionate. A total softie, and open-minded. Amicable even, at best. Caring,—to those it trusts with all the broken and mangled pieces of its heart that is. His temperament is truly something special. Truly the definition of hot and cold. 50% wolf, 50% Great Pyrenees, an even 50/50 split between their genes,—according to a DNA test. Unforeseeable, that’s why they’re called “Ghost” (apart from their ghost-like appearance). The 1-4-1 likens it’s personality to that of a cat more than a dog. Although, he excels at just about anything and everything. It can go loud and cause a real ruckus of gunfire and bloodshed, or it can be as quiet as a mouse and strike its unsuspecting prey like a snake. Whether it’s a more “laidback” kind of mission, or he’s fighting for his life, it doesn’t matter,—his sheer adaptability and resolve for survival is enough to bring him out the other side somehow. Its specialities are simultaneously stealth missions and guerrilla warfare. Also, fantastic with knives and is a phenomenal sniper (having unusually good/superb eyesight, which makes for almost perfect aim). Probably the most efficient at getting the job done in the entirety of the 1-4-1,—a damn machine. A grim reaper of sorts. Though somehow he isn’t entirely monstrous. Unfortunately though, their feral side likes to come out more often than not, especially in one particular form.—They become just about unbearable to be around when they get their period, or when their heat comes (as they refuse to take suppressants because it “makes them feel weird”, and that it fucks with their already fucked up hormones). Snapping at every little thing and at everyone,—it becomes essentially impossible to work with it. Not to mention, his mood and temper sometimes gets to be so bad,—that it tends to affect how he performs at his job. If it weren’t (or if it isn’t) for Johnny taking care of them and helping to soothe their nerves, or fucking them colorblind and breeding them until they can’t walk,—they’d probably end up discharged for such insubordination. Leave is practically always mandatory. The worst part is that since Simon sustained an injury to his mating gland, his heat cycles are unpredictable and often random. It’s periods are also a bitch and a half. Though still both are nothing that Johnny can’t handle. Also on the bright side, periods for them are very rare and infrequent, as they regularly take testosterone. Like Soap, Ghost has some extra, pent up energy from time to time, due to the livestock guardian dog in him. Though it’s much more manageable, and not nearly as bad. They’ll sometimes join Johnny in his little escapades around base, racing him in their doggy form. It’ll always gladly join him in working out, and to help to herd their cattle that they’ve got back home. Incredibly protective and loyal as well, as all dogs with herding blood in them are. It also has a very strong hunting instinct, and prefers to catch and eat it’s prey rather than waiting in line at the butcher. They’ll go after and stalk deer or rabbits hiding out in the woodland surrounding their farm. It also has accidentally killed or injured some of it and Soap’s livestock in the past, as it loses control of it’s instincts from time to time. If there is one thing Johnny doesn’t like about his partner, it’s that. He’s always pissed naturally when this happens, because he’s a tried a true herding dog.

Whenever an incident like this happens, he feels like he’s failed at his job, which is to protect their cattle. Simon feeling extremely guilty, and more than happy to repent (in perhaps a kinky way). Despite being an omega, he definitely rivals Soap in terms of strength, and in terms of size,—he’s built like a damn truck. His canine form is huge (bigger than Johnny, though not as big as Yuri), but compact, noticeably bigger the typical size of his species. Pure muscle permeates their entire body, rippling through their fur and bulging from their skin, (perks of having wolf genes, unlike the cons). It’s undoubtedly the most terrifying and intimidating member of the 1-4-1. His bark and growling is also akin to something of a hell hound. A growl so low and deep, you can practically feel the vibrations, and the menacing energy coming off of it. And a bark that is almost deafening, with nothing but pure unbridled resentment and fury in it.

Yuri doesn’t really cause (at least too many) problems. He’s mostly unassuming. Apart from the occasional butting heads with everyone, but especially Soap,—nothing too bad. (Spats are mostly brought on because of his own arrogance and narcissistic tendencies. Though he’s got a particular sore spot for insubordination of any kind, or arguing against orders too, a real stuck up when it comes to the rules and how to do things. Similar to Price in that vein, but even worse. Bossy, even when it’s not his place to be. A hypocrite, because he’s unintentionally insubordinate himself, (at least from time to time). Stubborn as hell too, (sometimes even worse than Johnny). Though he’s a damn good soldier, and steps up to the plate when you need him. Very fast and mobile,—at least, out speeding Simon and Soap. He’s also got the best sniffer in the 1-4-1, which can prove to be incredibly useful in certain instances. (He’s a good man in all honesty, even though he has his shortcomings, (though who doesn’t). He’s got a good heart and moral compass. Values his friends greatly. Good character and can be fun to be around, but equally can bore you to death, and tends to keep to himself. He likes to keep things professional most of the time. Truly a no nonsense type of guy. His dark humor doesn’t go over too well sometimes, but he’s able to crack some more wholesome jokes too. One little quirk of his though is that he’s much more open and welcoming, when he’s under the influence and/or drunk. Most of what the 1-4-1 knows about Yuri, and how they’ve gotten closer to him, is by getting him wasted or as high as a kite. (His negative traits are half to do with his breed as well). But really, the only real problem is,—he’s fucking huge. And he doesn’t know he is either. He ends up unintentionally hurting or injuring other people due to the lack of awareness of his size. It’s in his genes to be massive, more so taking after the/having Great Dane in him and all. He’s only about 5’10 or 11 and weighs around 175 pounds in “human” form, but grows to be around 5’2 at shoulder, 6’4 on two legs, and weighs a staggering 275 pounds when in doggy form. Easily 2 maybe even 3x bigger than the typical size of his breed, and especially a normal dog. He’s even bigger than Johnny and Ghost (in canine form at least), which is nothing to sneeze at, considering he’s only a beta. This wouldn’t be a problem, if it weren’t for the fact he has trouble controlling his shifting. This causes a wide variety issues, but mostly ends up getting them comprised on stealth missions, or when they're trying not to alert the enemy. That, and when Yuri shifts sometimes he can't shift back out of his doggy form, and is occasionally stuck like that for the rest of a mission. It's not that Yuri can't pull his own weight and take out enemy soldiers like that, because he most certainly can, and does it with extreme ease. But, he becomes useless in certain situations, because he's unable to return fire or use a gun. Nor can he just charge out with reckless abandon when there's bullets coming from every direction—He lacks armor or any real protection in his canine form after all. It’s just idiotic to put yourself in danger, and potentially get yourself killed like that. Though despite everything, needless to say, Yuri is one of the 1-4-1’s biggest assets. The team wouldn’t be complete without him, even though he can be a real headache and a mountain of paperwork sometimes. Despite his impressive stature, his cold and calculating demeanor, his formidability,—he’s not all too scary. Despite being such a large dog, he’s higher pitched. His bark is ear-piercing, while his growl is about as intimidating as a Chihuahua’s. The 1-4-1 make fun of him for it all the time, much to his chagrin.

TBC—

[grand-theft-carbohydrates]

yall thought i was being facetious? think again!

-the Heaven's unofficial blessing-

[note: this is chinese history rpf not tgcf. it is not about your favourite struggling homosexuals. it is about a different set of struggling homosexuals altogether. you're still welcome to read it though!]

"—and where is the Duke of Pei County?" asked Zhang Liang, "I'd like to see him." 

"Oh, uh, certainly, Sir!" cried General Fan Kuai with a rapidly sinking heart. “It’s just that, well, you see…” He quickly cast an eye around the camp as subtly as he could manage, trying—and mostly succeeding—to not look like a retainer whose liege lord had just run off like a randy hunting dog. Shit, shit, shit, but this was on him, let’s be honest. Never assume Liu Bang will stay in the same spot you left him. The fucking Yellow River was less capricious.

"My liege is overseeing the eastern supply depot,” Xiao He lied fluently. Heaven bless the man, he even managed to sound perfectly officious in spite of his stuffy nose, “Sir, why don't you join us for some hot wine while I send a runner to inform him? Duke Liu will make time immediately, I'm sure--" 

Zhang Liang raised his hand and pointed behind them, "Could that be him over there?" 

Fan Kuai didn't need to check if it was Liu Bang or not. Xiao He's frozen expression told him all that he needed to know. The general took a fortifying breath and slowly turned around, as happily as a man being held at sword-point. What he saw made the amicable smile congeal on his face. 

"It's…really too far away to tell," Xiao He said weakly; at the same time, Fan Kuai let out a stifled but very emphatic, "Oh fuck me." 

"I think it is him!" Zhang Liang said cheerfully, pointing out the small figure wandering across the distant hillock. Of the three men, he appeared to be the only one who wasn't appalled or even surprised to see Liu Bang—the new Duke of Pei County, beloved leader of the rebel forces and sworn brother to the fearless Lord Xiang Yu—on his hands and knees, rooting through the mud like a prize-winning sow.

Xiao He made a valiant last stand for the sake of their collective dignities, "the wine, Sir, will be getting cold—”  

"Duke Liu of Pei County, I presume?" Zhang Liang called out in greeting. His soft, lilting voice barely carried over the din of the infantry and horses. For a miserable, hopeful second the two retainers prayed that Liu Bang wouldn't be able to hear him—but bugger them all, Old Liu's wandering attention had a way of picking up the most minute details when it was least convenient. 

"S'goin'on," Liu Bang answered with a toss of his handsome head and a perfunctory bow, all done without getting up. He flashed a winning smile in their general vicinity and went right back to his excavation. 

"Good, he doesn't look busy," said Zhang Liang, "I'll give him my regards now," in a flash, the strategist had tied up his trouser legs and was picking his way through the quagmire. The two retainers exchanged a helpless look of commiseration and quickly followed suit.

The muddy hill proved to be no obstacle for tall, gracile Zhang Liang, who floated over the muck as gently as a soap bubble. His hosts, who were both portly men more inclined to grow sideways than upwards, were left behind to slip and slide in every direction except forwards, all while clinging futility to each other’s shoulders and biting back muffled curses. 

Xiao He nervously dabbed the sweat from his brow as he stumbled along, cheeks aflame. He had served as an indispensable secretary for three magistrates and wrote calligraphy while still in split-pants. He was uncustomed to such ignominy and looked like he wished the earth would swallow him whole the next time he fell flat on his arse. Fan Kuai could sympathize, he wanted the same thing—except with Liu Bang. This was their one chance to impress a local hero, and now it was all going to dogshit because Liu Xiaoer couldn’t do as he was told for half a fucking shichen. 

Zhang Liang, who was nearly at the top, suddenly stopped in his tracks, as if he just noticed he dropped something. He quickly retraced his steps and came back down the hill to help the floundering Xiao He. The strategist was far too slight to act as much of a counterweight, but he made surprisingly effective progress by laying a steadying hand on Xiao He's elbow, and directing him where to step. It did little to improve Fan Kuai’s low opinion of him, though it did not altogether decrease it. 

“Do you need help, too, General?” Zhang Liang asked pleasantly, pausing to hold out a slender white hand that looked like it had never done anything more strenuous than grind ink. Fan Kuai gave a monosyllabic response to the negative, and the hand disappeared back into its sleeve, though the strategist’s bland smile had not budged an inch. 

After what seemed like an epoch of struggling, they finally rounded the hump and came to a plateau that was tolerably dry. The rainwater had been coaxed downhill by the persistent wooing of gravity, and both men breathed a sigh of relief to have solid ground under their feet at last. There was Liu Bang, the colossal pain-in-the-arse himself, staring intently at two deep, parallel furrows in the ground. The gently sloping hill was covered by these jagged trails, stretching at least three-quarters of a li east and west. Each one was around two hands deep and mathematically regular. They were wagon-wheel tracks made by the retreating Qin army six days ago. Their passage had savagely gouged out the wet mud, and the sun had baked it solid, turning the field around them as wrinkled and craterous as the face of a one-hundred-year-old man. 

Liu Bang was kneeling on some dusty, yellow clay, now rendered brick-hard by the sun. He was trying to dig up—or rather, chip away at something with the aid of a twig—and had been going at it for some time without much success, judging by the pile of broken sticks beside him.

When the group appeared in his line of sight, the duke looked up with a smile and cried, "Ah, Secretary Xiao, there you are! Just the man I wanted to see!”

“My liege?” Xiao He panted, trying to retrieve one of his shoes which had been sucked off by the mud.  

“Here,” like a magician performing a trick, Liu Bang produced a bundle of dirty roots and pressed it warmly into Xiao He’s hands, “I got some wild ginger for your cold.” 

“My liege—” Xiao He protested weakly, probably because he didn’t want to go back down that god-forsaken hill with gravity working against him and one hand impeded, but this was interrupted by a phlegmy chest-cough which rendered his argument moot before it could be voiced—so he was left standing there with his arms outstretched, shoe in one hand, ginger in the other, and in the span of those five coughs, Liu Bang’s attention had already packed up and moved along. The Duke turned to Zhang Liang and said solemnly, “Strategist Zhang, on behalf of the Chu Kingdom, we are deeply honoured to welcome your presence again.” 

“Likewise, Duke Liu.” 

“What’s mine is yours, Sir, you need only ask. Chu is eager to help you in any way in order to fight our common enemy.” 

“Your generosity is greatly appreciated, my lord.” 

Fan Kuai let out a sigh of relief. All right, so that wasn’t a total unmitigated disaster. He had been a little apprehensive that Liu Bang wouldn't recognise their guest, he had only spoken to Zhang Liang once in passing, and that had been at Xiang Yu’s extravagant banquet two months prior. Well, jokes on him; Old Liu never forgot a face. The speech itself was faultless too—he just wished the bastard didn't have dirt smeared on his nose. 

“Nice weather, eh?” Liu Bang blew a few loose strands of hair from his eyes. He was no less sweaty or flushed than his men, the only difference was that exertion looked good on him. Handsome buggers like Liu Xiaoer were born with that aura about them, Fan Kuai noted with a touch of angry fondness, it was the one degree of difference that poets used to separate the florid jowl from the rosy cheek. He was also no less dirty than the other men; the only difference was that he did not give a damn and, thus, was quite content. 

Liu Bang caught Fan Kuai’s eye and grinned unreservedly, as if he’d been waiting all day for him to come along. His smile shamed the sun, and Fan Kuai felt the edge of his own mouth creep upwards without his permission. The general frowned harder to compensate. Fuck, it was hard to stay mad at Liu Bang when he was like this. The man's excitement rubbed off like coal dust. One touch and everyone had sooty faces. He had been jealous of Liu Bang, once upon a time, back when he was an attractive, popular, charming boy. The sharp edge of resentment had long been worn smooth by age and intimacy. The years hadn't improved Fan Kuai's own looks, but it had given him wisdom. His childhood feelings had been rooted in fear—fear of being tossed aside like an old toy after this beautiful scatterbrain got bored of him. The thirty years they had spent together had proven otherwise. Liu Bang might get bored of games and objects, but he never got bored of people. 

The Duke of Pei County turned his head to wipe his sweaty brow against his shoulder. It was the same habit he had preserved from childhood, except now his eyes had crow’s feet, his hair was more grey than black, and there was a real sword hanging from his belt instead of a stick. 

"Lost yer keys, did ye?" Fan Kuai grumbled, switching to the informal ‘you’ to make a show of displeasure. He shrugged off the pointed look Xiao He gave him. He didn't give a dog's arse that the so-called genius could hear them bicker. Their 'fearless leader' was literally wiggling in the dirt like a fucking worm, what was there left to salvage? They hadn't so much as lost face as drop-kicked it straight off the edge of a cliff.  

 Liu Bang only grinned in response, "gotta knife?"

Both men answered without hesitation. Years of fielding Liu Bang's non-sequiturs had made them very mentally agile. 

"Unfortunately not, my liege."

"Fuck no," growled Fan Kuai, "and even if I did, I wouldn't let ye dig around the dirt with it!" 

Xiao He looked like he wanted to dive head-first off the proverbial cliff, after their proverbial dignity, "General, please mind your language…" 

"Aw, what a shame," Liu Bang clicked his tongue thoughtfully, "See, the ground's packed solid but I think I can get it out if I had the right tool..." 

Fan Kuai rolled his eyes, "just use yer sword." 

Liu Bang laughed "Old General Fan, it's always blunt force with you! I might chip it if I do that." 

"—and ye still haven't told us what 'it' is!"

"My lord," said Xiao He, endeavouring to get a word in edgeways, "we have a guest here—"

"My hair! Of course!" Liu Bang shouted; his delight was so violent that Zhang Liang, who had been hovering in the background, silently watching the show with his unblinking owl eyes, flinched and covered his ears. 

'So much for a military genius,' Fan Kuai thought wryly, 'the only thing that white-faced little wimp is good for is a bed-warmer. He wouldn't last two seconds on a battlefield—' and then his attention was monopolized once again by Liu Bang. The duke had pulled out his ivory hairpin and was using it to scratch the clay crust with tiny, careful strokes. In spite of his annoyance, Fan Kuai couldn't help but be impressed. In a world where most people thought in straight lines, Liu Bang's mind was capable of moving sideways. Four-fifths of the time, it was a right fucking hassle that led them down all sorts of convoluted paths, but that remaining one-fifth was worth staying around for. 

Xiao He winced, “My liege, I seem to recall that hairpin was part of your wife's dowery."

The blood drained from Liu Bang’s face "Oh, shit…" After a moment of consideration, he set his jaw manfully and resumed his digging, "fuck it, it's already chipped. Ain't no point in quitting halfway, I gotta see this thing through till the end." 

"You're a braver man than me," Fan Kuai muttered; the mere thought of Liu Bang's wife, Lu Zhi, had him subconsciously slipping back into the formal ‘you’. Heaven might have failed to bestow Fan Kuai with looks or charm, but he definitely lucked out in marrying the other Lu sister. 

The hairpin began to grind against pieces of half-buried gravel with a hair-raising screech. The sound made Zhang Liang leap backwards as if he had been burned; his entire face was scrunched up in extreme distaste as if the awful sound was assaulting all five of his senses at once, not just his hearing, but smell, sight, touch and taste as well. 

Fan Kuai laughed rudely. Call it pay-back for the impromptu mud bath or whatever, but that little white-face deserved to be knocked down a few pegs. To his disappointment, Zhang Liang did not seem to register the insult, or even his presence for that matter. He had eyes only for Liu Bang. Far from being angry, the strategist seemed to grow more and more excited with each pass of the hairpin. Nothing showed on his oddly blank face, of course, but he was leaning forward at an oblique angle that was growing steeper by degrees, and his hands were fluttering slightly in his sleeves. Fan Kuai was not easily given to flights of fancy, but he thought he saw a ghostly fire dancing in his eyes. Suddenly, the rumours about Zhang Liang being a wizard seemed a little less implausible. 

"Got it!" Liu Bang gave a triumphant hoot and held aloft his prize. 

General Fan Kuai had made a careful show of being aloof up until this point, but now he pushed forward to see it. The dirty object was no bigger than Liu Bang's palm, it was flat and circular, with a square hole in the middle. It looked like a big version of the First Emperor's half-liang coins. A length of frayed, muddy string was tied to one end. The four men recognised it immediately as a jade pendant, the type that fancy gentlemen were supposed to hang on their waists—something they couldn't afford, even if they pooled all their money together. 

"Nice!" Fan Kuai bellowed, clapping Liu Bang on the back. No need to call in the oracle, this was an auspicious sign if there ever was one! 

“A lovely find, my liege,” replied Xiao He evenly, “shall we make our way back now? We can celebrate with some hot wine—”  

"I was following a rabbit over on that ridge yonder," the duke grinned, "Old Fan, we gotta set some snares later, I have a mighty hankering for stew. It'll go well down great with the wolfberries I saw—anyways, the rabbit ran off, but I saw something glimmering over here, so I came up for a look. Good thing I did, eh? All that hard work paid off!” 

A pale, delicate hand reached into the midst of their circle and paused in front of Liu Bang, palm held up expectantly, “Duke Liu, may I wash it for you?" Zhang Liang asked, his head tilted to one side in a bird-like manner. His other hand held a water gourd that Fan Kuai could have sworn up and down had not been there before. 

"Sure, thanks!" Liu Bang was as friendly with strangers as he was with his bosom friends, "is Sir familiar with gemstones?" 

Most people—experts, that is—would have done a whole song and dance about how they were talentless mediocrities who would sully the noble art of gem appraisal if they tried their hand at it. Zhang Liang just answered seriously, "Yes, I am." 

"Great, then can you tell me what type of jade this is?"

Zhang Liang took his time washing Liu Bang’s pendant, gently rubbing the carved groves with the tip of his forefinger. After satisfying some standard apparent only to himself, he held it up to the afternoon sun and examined it with one eye half-shut. The jade hung suspended between his fingers, dripping and sparkling like a piece of heaven that had fallen to earth, "this is serpentine." 

To hell with the complicated jargon, "Is it valuable?" Fan Kuai asked eagerly.

Zhang Liang gave him an infuriating half-smile, "No."

"Why not?" Liu Bang cried, looking offended on the jade's behalf, as if it was his darling little daughter being rejected by a suitor, "what could it possibly be lacking? It's elegant, polished, and has a ton of character! The outside is round like Heaven, the inside is square like the earth, and look here, it’s got these two blue lines running through it, just like the Long River and Yellow River! Now that’s a good luck charm if I’ve ever seen it!" 

"All that is true, but beauty is not what makes a gemstone valuable,” Zhang Liang replied, his smile growing exponentially along the twin axes of opaque and infuriating, "Scarcity is what makes it valuable. Everyone covets what no one else can have. A piece of mutton-fat jade is worth ten times its weight in gold because it's hard to come by, not because a white rock is inherently more lovely to the eye than a blue rock.” 

Fan Kuai snorted rudely. Sure, he knew next to nothing about jade or whatever nonsense Zhang Liang was sprouting, but he could smell a huckster from six li away—in no small part because he was in-laws to one of Pei County’s finest, “And I suppose we should just leave this ‘worthless’ piece of jade in your reliable hands?” 

Zhang Liang handed the pendant back to Liu Bang without looking twice at Fan Kuai, “It is not mine to keep. Besides, General Fan, I did not say it was worthless.” 

“You calling me a liar, Sir?” The ‘Sir’ was enunciated in the same tones as ‘shithead.’

“I'm saying you misunderstood my meaning, General. I did not say it is worthless, I said it had no value.” 

Liu Bang was enjoying the absurd discussion immensely, “But jade is jade, Sir. That’s why it’s valuable. Not only does it ward off evil, it’s also very useful. It’s extremely hard and doesn’t tarnish, so it’s good for pins and cups. People even used it for weapons in the olden days before bronze.” 

“Yes, but it is not inherently worth as much as we pay for it," Zhang Liang replied. "It is valuable because we agree it is. Imagine what would happen if precious gemstones grew on trees,” Liu Bang grinned at the mental image he was painting. “The value of jade would plummet overnight. People would still use it of course, for the reasons you stated, but it would no longer be a precious item that costs many strings of cash. Children would use it to play knucklebones. The First Emperor’s Heirloom Seal would be no better than a pickle weight.”

 “A pickle weight!” Liu Bang laughed uproariously, slapping his knee. In spite of his good humour, the stubborn set of Liu Bang’s chin told Fan Kuai he wanted to argue the point further but could not think of a good rebuttal. Fan Kuai wanted to help, but was equally at a loss. The whole thing felt wrong, like someone saying up was down, like a fundamental truth was being questioned. He almost said, ‘You could sell the jade,’ but to who, exactly? Even he could spot the holes in that logic. Everyone already had it, and jade had limited uses as a practical item. It wasn’t something that could be consumed either, like firewood, or an extra joint of pork you could salt up and hang in the cellar.

“I suppose the analogy is like counterfeiting currency,” Xiao He mused, coming to their rescue. It was amazing how gallant a fat, balding man with a runny nose could be, under the right circumstances, “if there is too much cash in circulation, it will devalue the official mint.”  

“What he said,” Fan Kuai agreed confidently. 

“You can certainly see it that way,” Zhang Liang replied, but his eyes were still boring into Liu Bang, like he was hoping to strike a secret wellspring somewhere inside him, but a wellspring of what, exactly? “Duke of Pei County, if you wish to sell this pendant, do not accept an offer of less than ten strings of cash. That is my final appraisal, should you choose to accept it.” 

“I trust Zhang Zifang wholeheartedly!” said Liu Bang warmly, he rubbed his bearded chin, “but I’ve decided I won’t be selling. It doesn’t seem right to give this jade to someone who only cares about how much money it’s worth. They won’t appreciate it’s beauty like I do. Besides, I was the one who got my hands dirty, I deserve a little keepsake for the effort. It'll make a funny story to tell my grandkids, if nothing else.”  notes:

haha this one was really on the nose guys, but what i can i say, subtlety is not my middle name: liu bang is able climb out of the quagmire and obtain the 'mandate of heaven' because of his opportunistic nature, stubbornness, willingness to get his hands dirty, and some very talented, ride-or-die friends.

Liu Xiaoer: "second-son Liu" childhood nickname based on birth order. Can also be slang for "waiter," given how in-demand he is. His more "official" nickname should be Liu Erlang, "Lang" meaning "handsome young man".

"little white face" 小白脸-- twink/ boytoy / kept man.

wolfberries: fun fact, the word 枸杞 sounds like "dogberries" in chinese but it actually a different word. in any case, it still fits the extended dog metaphor, hell, he even digs out the jade with a piece of ivory, which is a fancy tooth!

Fan Kuai is married to Lu Xu, younger sister to Liu Bang's wife, Lu Zhi. man im really enjoying building up Lu Zhi's entrance like she's the secret final boss. yes, it doesn't escape my notice that people seem more scared of her than the actual fucking qin army.

banliang round coins with square holes were standardised during the reign of QSH. A jade pendant in this shape would have been highly unusual (i've never seen one) but there's nothing inherently unlucky/taboo about it (and tbh it's just here for the metaphor) so I'll give it a B- for historical accuracy.

blue and green were called the same thing during this time period 青.

the chu-han contention is rapidly becoming the heartwarming human interest story of a bunch of people coming togather to help a guy with unmedicated adhd ace his job interview

[toomuchdickfort]

Vent abt smth that gets on my Nerves

[tonycries]

Like An Animal - T.F.

Synopsis. Of course Toji doesn’t want any more kids. Of course he’s lying as he stuffs your pretty cúnt full of his cúm for the third time tonight.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, unprotected, cúmplay, mating press, chóking, overstim, oral (female receiving), créampie, dirty talk, Toji really REALLY wants to get you pregnant, spitting, mentioned kids, absolutely filthy, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.5k

A/N. Need this man so bad you don’t even understand AAA.

Toji Fushiguro didn’t want any more kids. Why would he? They were messy, expensive, and it was a sheer miracle that Megumi wasn’t anything like the little demons he’s seen during drop-off at the kindergarten. He didn’t need another reason to watch Babyshark for five hours straight - and he wasn’t about to change his mind anytime soon. 

Or, so he thought.

“Hey doll, m’home- what the f-”

“Toji! Language!” you hiss, hastily covering the ears of a very oblivious Yuji, who was deeply engrossed in mixing icing. 

Oh? 

Now, there have only been three times in his life that Toji has been truly taken aback. The first being when he discovered that yes, Megumi’s hair really does stand up that way naturally. Second, when he realized that he was falling for you - and that oh shit maybe he does still have feelings somewhere in there after all. 

And finally, right now, the sight of you covered in flour and wrestling three giggly toddlers into some semblance of order in the kitchen. “Welcome home, handsome.”

Oh. 

It made something deep inside him lurch so strangely.

“Why…” Toji rasps, eyes flitting between the mixing bowls messily clinked together and the three toddlers happily stood on stools, flour in their hair and matching smiles on your faces. “Why have they multiplied?” 

“We’re baking cookies!” Yuji exclaims from the counter, swiping a thick wad of dough on Nobara’s hair. To which the latter responds with a swift smack on the head. 

You smirk at your dumbfounded boyfriend, “Well, Toji, it seems that when you leave me alone with a batch of cookies to bake, I have a tendency to summon reinforcements.” Gesturing at the chaos surrounding you, “Megs wanted to bake some cookies before his sleepover at Yuji’s so I had these three over because we have more than enough space.”

“I see…does insurance cover this kitchen?”

Rolling your eyes, “Oh c’mon, don’t be such a spoilsport.” You reach for the batch of freshly baked goods, “You’re just in time to taste-test our latest creation!”

And, well, how could he ever say no to you? Although - flour-dusted and disheveled - some strange part of himself thinks you look even more gorgeous than usual right now, as if that was even possible. His girl was so pretty, even when you’re wrangling three little gremlins. Too pretty. Toji just couldn’t get his head around that nagging little voice saying you looked so pretty especially when you’re wrangling three little gre-

“Ehh? Fushiguro is your dad blushing?”

“Gross.”

“You idiots he isn’t blushing, it’s called ‘swooning’. My mommy says it’s a grown-up thing.”

It was hard to not hear the (extremely loud) whispers from behind you, but it was even harder to ignore the slight red tinting Toji’s ears as he pointedly reached out for the tray you were holding. Fingers barely even brushing against the cookies before a tiny voice speaks up, “Mama, can I have one too?”

You freeze. Toji freezes. You think the whole world freezes except for Yuji and Nobara who stifle giggles behind their hands.

“Look Kugisaki, now he’s really swooning.”

“Yeah, my mommy says that’s also how you get babies. You swoon and pop! they appear.”

Toji raises a brow at Nobara, gritting out a strained, “Your mommy says a lot, huh?” That jolts you out of your reverie, and you flash a gentle smile at a very red-faced Megumi. Leaning down to reply, “Of course, sweetie.”

And as he mumbles a quick “Thank you”, hastily grabbing another cookie and retreating to a corner of the kitchen - hoping to disappear into the shadows - you risk a glance at Toji. Cheeks flushed hard enough to rival Megumi’s, ah, like father like son. 

“Anyway, don’t just stand there. Come help me n’ the kids, Yuji’s grandpa’s coming to pick them up soon!” you playfully swat at your boyfriend’s sculpted chest, going back to busying yourself with the icing. 

Toji, however, was having an epiphany that was altering his perception of reality, one that he’d probably been denying ever since he stepped in through that damn front door. You. The kids. You and the kids. You and his kids. 

“Mama.”

And Megumi’s little slip-up had been the final nail on his coffin to certify that oh Toji Fushiguro was utterly and irrevocably screwed. And he’d like to blame it all on you being such a goddamn wonder, but he’s got a nagging feeling that the three little gremlins currently decorating cookies share an equal part of the blame. 

What was it that girl had said? Swooning is how you get babies? Because, well, eyeing the way you scooped up a pouty Megumi in your arms, chatting animatedly with a tittering Nobara and Yuji, only one thought rings through his mind - damn right, kid.

---

“-and make sure to brush your teeth. No faking this time, okay? I’ve told Yuji’s grandpa to check. And-”

“No summoning demons, and no summoning the police. Though you’re probably too young for that.” Toji interrupts your little tirade, ruffling the hair of a very disgruntled Megumi. “Have fun, little man.”

You giggle at the usual father-son dynamic, but as you waved off Megumi and his friends, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that something in the air felt a bit different. Something a bit tense. A bit exciting.

Maybe it was the heavy silence that hung in the room after that door slammed shut, leaving just you and Toji all alone in the house. Forcing you to register the heat of his large frame looming behind yours. When did he get so close? Or maybe it was the prickly of his gaze on your back, a resounding slam! echoing in your ears as he cages you against the door. 

Or maybe - just maybe - it was the way he leaned down to whisper in your ear, husky and tinged with something so utterly dangerous. 

“So…mama, huh?” 

A thrill goes down your spine at his words. “Oh, stop.” you wave off, though you feel your cheeks flaring up in response. Especially as he plows on, “Why? I think you make a great mama.”

You scoff, casting a sidelong glance at the muscular arm just inches away from your head. “Don’t joke, Megs was so embarrassed after that.”

“I’m not joking.”

Your back hits the cool door before you can react. Toji’s hands almost painful on your shoulders, muscles rippling as he turns you to face him. You raise your eyes to meet his and oh-

Oh shit. 

Whatever retort on the tip of your tongue dies as you take in the man before you. His expression darkened, breaths slightly labored, eyes half-lidded and locked on you. You’d almost have been worried at the sudden flip of personality had it not been for the words that spill from his lips. 

“I’m not joking.” he repeats, voice strangled. 

Great, the man has finally lost it. Despite the traitorous throbbing in your cunt, you try to make sense of the situation. “Toji, this joke has-”

Your words get caught in your throat as he raises a hand to squish your cheeks together into an almost-embarrassing pout, looking down at you through dazed eyes. “Do I look like I’m joking, doll?” Leaning down to lick a stripe up a smudge of icing on your cheek. Lingering far too long, murmuring into your skin, “What do you think?” 

In the heat of it all, you manage to choke out, “W-what?”

“Don’t you think,” he mutters, as strained as if he were about to snap any second. Losing his sanity with each word that comes out of his mouth. “That you’d make the best mama?”

“I mean- yes-”

And then his lips are on yours, shutting you up - bruising. Such a sloppy mix of teeth and spit as he drinks you in with an aching desperation. Toji breathes in your gasp as you feel his cock, hard and throbbing against your front. 

“Fuck.” he hisses into your mouth. “Not enough, ma. Need you s’bad.”

The buttons hit the floor before you realize what’s happening. Toji’s fisting your shirt in one hand, too impatient - too starved - he pulls down, down, down. Ripping. Urgently moving down to your shorts- “Those are expensi-” you yelp. 

But it’s useless - the tattered fabric hits the ground faster than your jaw as he groans out a quick, “I’ll buy ya a new one when we shop for baby clothes.”

Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, hands trailing up your thighs. He swiftly unclasps your bra, mouth dropping into a soft little oh! at the sight, immediately groping each and every inch of skin he could reach. Tweaking and rolling your swollen nipples on his fingers in wonder. “Oh, doll. These are gonna be s’full, huh? Wan’ taste how sweet you’ll be.”

“T-Toji hah-” you whine, as he takes one nipple in his mouth. Lips wrapped so prettily around your tit as he tugs lightly, sucking harshly like he was miraculously trying to draw milk out. Looking up at you so obscenely through his thick lashes. “Ngh- wan’ more.” you buck your hips, grinding against his thick cock. 

And, well, how could Toji ever deny the mother of his children?

Because he immediately drops to his knees, biting down on the thin fabric of your soaked panties. Tugging with his teeth, “This what you want, ma?” he slurs. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he breathes in the scent of your dripping pussy, “Wan’ me to eat out your pretty lil’ cunt? Jus’ say the word.”

“Please, daddy.”

“Tha’s my girl.”

And then he’s pulling - tearing your drenched panties to shreds with his teeth. Flashing you a devilish grin at the sinful strings of slick that connect you to the flimsy fabric. Oh Toji had half the mind to tease you about how wet you were already, but no, he had no time to waste.

With a guttural, fucked-out little grunt, he’s surging forward, diving face first into your pretty pussy. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit, licking a long, languid stripe up your swollen folds. 

“Oh hngh- please.” you mewl, as he buries himself deeper into your dripping cunt. Tongue bullying its way past your folds to lap at your slick, not stopping till he’s had his fill of your sweet juices. “M-more.”

Two large hands dip into your waist as he wraps his glossy lips around your pulsing clit to suck harshly, both keeping you still and supporting your weight as your knees weaken. Toji can’t have his pretty girl hurt herself right before he fills her up n’ gets her pregnant, right?

“Sure ya can handle more, ma?” Electricity runs up your spine as your boyfriend rolls his tongue across your clit just the way he knew you liked. “Y��should be thanking me for not jus’ stuffing you full of my cock like I want to right now.” 

“Then hah- why don’t you?”

Toji pulls away ever-so-slightly, relishing in the delirious little whine of disappointment that leaves you. One that quickly turns into a surprised squeal as he spit a steady stream of spit into your quivering cunt, spreading it across your pussy with his thumb.

Sloppy - it was so fucking sloppy. He looked at you like you were his favorite meal and ate you out just as much. 

Your juices decorating his lips like a badge of honor. Smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw. One which moves as he utters, “Can’t break the mother of my kids, doll.” 

But oh how you’d beg to differ as he brings his face to your sloppy pussy once more, tongue darting out to catch the obscene little drip! drip! drip! of your slick. “Gon’ be the best fucking dad to all three of ‘em.”

“T-three?”

And with that, he’s squeezing his soft tongue into your tight pussy. Throwing your left leg over his sculpted shoulder to make out deeper with your cunt. You tug on his hair pathetically, impatiently. Cute little whines of his name leaving you each time he drips into your sloppy pussy, stretching you out, swiping at your clit, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over-

“Yeah, three.” he mutters into your folds, “Gon’ give me two more beautiful babies? Gon’ be so round n’ pretty with my kids?” Tongue curling deftly against that one spot he knew would have you keening and rocking your pretty cunt into his mouth. 

“Ah- fuck fuck fuck- hngh- yes!” you moan, body jerking violently at the way he hit that spot over and over.  

He huffs out a laugh, hungry gaze taking in that cute, desperate expression on your face. Toji just couldn’t help but tease you a little bit. “Use your words, ma.”

“H-huh?”

“Tell me what you want.”

You gasp out a pathetic little sob, “Want to so badly. Wan’ you to hah- fill me up hngh- W-wan’ cum-”

“So demanding.” he titters teasingly into your cunt, vibrations making you drag your pussy more erratically on his mean mouth. Now, Toji could tease you with his tongue for hours until you’re crying and begging for his cock. But right now, he doesn’t think he has any more patience nor sanity. “I love that.”

Toji knows by the way your pretty pussy clenches around his tongue that you’re close, pulse urgent on his face as he greedily laps at your cunt. So he speeds up his movements, drinking you in like a madman. 

A hand snaking up to plunge knuckle-deep into your sloppy entrance. Pussy taking him so readily after being stretched out on his tongue. Your adorable, fucked-out little whines of his name going straight to his rock-hard dick as he fucks you with his fingers the way he wants to with his cock. Two fingers thrusting in and out while his thumb draws rapid little circles on your clit. Sinking his teeth gently into your swollen folds.

Bucking into his touch, “Hah! S’too much, daddy. Hngh, g-gonna cum ah! Gonna cum-”

“Then cum, doll.”

And you are - fast and violent. 

Plushy walls clamping down on Toji’s fingers as if your fluttering cunt was trying to suck him up. Mind hazy and your only thoughts being about Toji and his tongue and Toji-

“Mmm taste s’sweet, love you on m’tongue.” he grunts, breathing you in and letting your juices slide down his throat. Lewd squelches in time with your cute lil’ whines as you ride out your orgasm on his pretty face. Tongue fucking you through your high. 

“Had fun, ma?” Toji grins once you blink back your vision, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Dangerous little smile only growing at your barely-lucid nod. 

Ah, but even the ever-confident Toji Fushiguro faltered as your shaky hands reached out to pet his achingly hard cock. Swollen and leaking a mouthwatering dark patch against his trousers. 

“Wan’ your cock now, daddy.” you murmur, watching the way his darkened eyes widen ever-so-slightly, breath hitching. “Wan’ you to fill me up over n’ over like you promised.”

Oh you little minx, with all your dirty tricks - you were going to be the death of him. 

With a dark little chuckle of disbelief, Toji rises to his full height. Lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss - tongue licking at the seam of your mouth and intertwining with yours. Forcing you to taste yourself on him. So sweet of sin and all his dreams of stuffing you till you were sure to have his kids - two of them, in fact. 

“Anything y’want, doll.” he whispers into your lips. 

And that’s all that is said before the clinking of a belt rings in the heady air. The realization that you were so naked and splayed out for him while he was still unfairly clothed finally hitting as Toji peels his shirt off. Your mouth waters at the chiseled front, hands immediately reaching to squeeze his large pecs. Running your hands along his body. 

“Ah, fuck.” he shudders, “Y’never change, huh?” 

Yet your greedy hands are momentarily stunned as he lets his pants fall to the floor with his boxers. Rock-hard cock springing up and hitting his stomach. 

He was so painfully hard that it made your cunt quiver in anticipation. Red and throbbing, soaked in precum and glistening in the dim lighting. Twitching at the sound of your voice as you say “Want you to fucking ruin me, daddy.” you blink up at Toji, all doe-eyed and teary after your last orgasm. 

And oh does that make him snap - maybe his sanity, maybe you by the end of this, because before you know it, Toji’s spreading your legs with his knee. Biting his bottom lip as your slick trails down your pretty cunt and onto your legs. 

“What m’girl wants.” he grits out, dragging his weeping tip across your swollen folds. Collecting your sweet juices on his head. “My girl- gets.”

You keen as Toji bullies his massive cock into your cunt on the last word. “Ngh- T-Toji.” you whine, vision flashing at the stretch. No matter how many times Toji stuffed you full of his cock - his size never failed to disappoint.

“Shhh, it’s okay. You can take it.” Trying to steady your breathing as he fucks into you in quick, mindless little jabs to fit himself inside your snug pussy. “I’ll make sure of it, doll. How else m’gonna breed your pretty lil’ cunt?”

Your dripping cunt rubs so deliciously against his abs, slick mixing with his precum and smearing across both your bodies. Filthy, and exactly what you wanted right now. 

“Shit, love when your pussy’s so messy. Now, legs.” he rasps, with a quick smack to your thighs. And that’s all that has to be said - your queue to wrap your legs around Toji’s waist, letting his strong arms lift you with ease. Splitting you apart deeper and deeper onto his cock, veins rubbing so deliciously against all the right spots. A maddening little bump! bump! bump! matching your heartbeat. 

“Ah! Hngh- Fuck fuck fuck, m’so full.” you keen, heels digging into his hips. 

Sliding down his cock far enough that his heavy balls meet your ass, already so wet with precum and slick. Ah, you were so full of him you almost felt like he was pushing against your lungs.

“Oh, yes.” Toji hisses, throwing his head back. “Fucking finally.” Finally he gets what he’s been aching for ever since those three gremlins stepped out the door. All the blood draining to his cock at the idea of fucking his cum into you till you couldn’t walk. Till you were so full of him that he was the only one you could think of. Hey, he needed to get some attention before the baby arrives, right?

“Need this s’bad. Fuck.” he gasps. Still pushing inside you despite bottoming out, shallow, desperate little grinds of his hips. “Gonna fuck a baby into you, you little slut. Fill you up with my seed till you can’t take it anymore.”

Neat little crescents of his fingernails on your ass as his thrusts get longer, more purposeful. Twitching balls smacking against your skin in such a lewd rhythm, matching the cute little ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time his fat head hits your cervix. So deliciously painful. 

“C’mon, ma.” Toji moans, hips out of control now. Taking in the way your head was thrown back, body bouncing each time he rammed his cock into your tight cunt. But oh how he wanted to see the fucked-out expression on your face. “Look at me.”

So cockdrunk and delirious, you barely register the way Toji cradles your head to press his sweaty forehead against yours. Only looking up at him with delirious heart-eyes as he milked himself on your sloppy pussy. 

“Shit feel s’perfect split-apart on my cock. Really made for me, huh?” he gasps into your mouth. “Need to cum in this pretty pussy. Need to fill you up- ah- need this need this- fuck.”

“Shit shit shit, Toji m’so close. I’m hngh-”

A hand hurriedly unwraps from your waist to draw rapid, desperate little patterns on your cunt. Not even circles anymore because shit Toji couldn’t think of anything aside from the way your pussy was milking him so good- And how he was gonna fuck a baby into you and Megumi was gonna be the best big brother and-

“-you’ll bake with ‘em. And I’ll tuck ‘em to bed.” the words tumble out of his lips and into your parted mouth. Pussy drunk and babbling, “N’ we’re both taking those three to the park and try not to lose ‘em.”

Dragging himself inside you till his weeping tip kisses your sloppy hole. Fingers on your clit becoming more and more frantic. Fucking you so filthy, each word punctuated by quick, harsh thrusts, “Then at night m’gonna steal you all to myself, and y’know what, ma?”

At this point you can do nothing more than just take it as Toji bounces you on his cock in midair, sobbing out a strained, “W-what, daddy?”

Toji leans impossibly closer, thumb catching on your swollen lips, breath fanning your face as he mutters, “Gonna fuck another baby into you. Fill you with my cum all over again, doll. Give it all to you.”

Now, you’ve heard of orgasms that come out of nowhere and have you seeing stars. And this was no different - yet you see the pearly gates of heaven as you cream around his cock. “Ah! Hngh m’cumming m’cumming oh-”

He lets out a guttural groan as your nails rake his back, hips stuttering and sloppy now. Breathing out raggedly, “Yeah fuck jus’ like that use me like’ that- hngh squeezing me s’tight gonna cum. Gonna give my pretty baby my cum, fuck a baby into ya- oh-”

Body bowing into yours, teething latching onto the crook of your neck, biting down right over your pulse. Fingers digging and bruising on your hips, holding your filthy pussy to his cock as he cums with a strangled moan. Hard. almost painfully so. 

White-hot pleasure behind his eyes, pumping thick, hot ropes to fill your snug cunt. Just animalistic movements from such a carnal part of himself as he fucked his seed deeper and deeper into you. 

Not even thinking of stopping even as you keen at your poor overfilled pussy. Toji’s cum dripping down your legs and onto his quivering balls as he fucks you like an animal. Over and over and-

“Hey, who said we’re done, doll?” Toji tuts mockingly, snapping you out of the haze. “Don’t pass out on me just yet.”

And you don’t even realize it before he’s manhandling you onto the nearby couch. Pulling out only admire his seed gushing out of you, so white and hot and his. Cock twitching to life at the pool of cum and slick slowly forming on the cushion below. Fuck that, you’ll need a bigger couch for five people anyway.  

Ramming his throbbing cock into your poor, swollen pussy. Throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and bending down down down till your knees were at your tits. 

Not even bothering to let you adjust this time before he’s fucking you again and again and maybe he was whispering sweet nothings in your ear - probably it was just promises of how he was gonna fill your pretty lil’ cunt till Megumi gets home. Promises he fully intended to fulfill. 

“Fuck. One more. G-gotta make sure it takes, ma.” he swears into your mouth. Voice jagged, and you almost couldn’t recognize it as your boyfriend’s. Barely even lucid, just mindless motions of his hips as he watched your slutty cunt suck him up so good. “Yeah, who’s cum is that, doll? Who’s that painting your pretty pussy white?”

Drinking in the sobbed out little, “Y-you, Toji! Ah- Hngh-” as he starts ravaging your swollen clit again. Toji’s balls squeeze so painfully as he fucked you like his personal sextoy. And your pussy was so heavenly around him that you were basically asking for him to go harder. Begging. Begging him to ruin you. 

“Ah! Fuck I’m-” throat shot, you can’t even form a proper sentence before you’re seeing stars being your eyes. Walls milking Toji’s thick cock as you cum - almost painfully. Mouth dropping into a fucked-out little oh! tears streaking down your face. 

Ones that Toji can’t help but lick off, salty on his tongue as he cums again. And again and again. Voice stuck in his throat, eyes widening, the veins popping out on his arms as he pulls your hips closer to his. 

Hips burning now as he breeds you like some animal. Like he was ready to fill you up until he was shooting blanks and couldn’t anymore. Cum squelching out of your sloppy pussy and seeping into where you were joined. Ah, well, the couch was ruined - time for Plan B. 

Which is why Toji found himself wrestling you onto the cool floor, cock still twitching inside you, spreading you for him on whatever flat surface he could find. Milking his cock so he can cum more than he has his whole life. 

Both of you barely lucid at this point. He wasn’t even sure if he could cum again - but by God if he wasn’t going to try. He was drunk off of the feeling inside you, so warm and wet with him. So perfect to carry his child.

“Hngh- yes yes yes wan’ carry your child, daddy.” you whine. Oh shit, had he said that out loud? Ah, who gives a fuck at this point. The only thing he cared about now was the feeling of your sloppy lil’ pussy wrapped around him and whether Megumi would want a brother or a sister. 

“Hm, yeah? Like the idea huh, you little slut. Fuck s’perfect f’me- ngh-”

Running on just the sting of your nails down his back and your legs pulling him impossibly closer. Barely even thrusting at this point, just frantic shallow, grinds to milk his swollen cock. Trying to fuck out something delicious. It hurt, but it hurt so good. 

So good that Toji doesn’t even realize when he’s cumming again. Just faint little tingles before his cock is shooting thin, long wisps of cum, making you squeeze around him as he fills you up again and again.Your own orgasm just a small spike of euphoria before he starts moving inside you. Again.  

Ah, he wonders, vision hazy at the edges - but still perfectly capturing the white gushing out of your ravaged cunt. Taking in the messy floor, and your even messier pussy. Where to next, huh? He hasn’t even fucked you in the kitchen yet.

“N-next?” you repeat, eyes widening as much as they possibly could through the exhaustion and the urge to pass out. And oh he said that out loud too? Whoops.

“Of course.” he pools the cum trickling out of you on two fingers, shoving them in your mouth. Making your head spine as you choke and gag around his thick fingers, pressing the back of your tongue. Only two things ringing in your mind, Toji’s unforgiving cock - raw and hot, dragging against your ravaged walls again and again - and the words that spill from his lips.

“Besides, we gotta practice for the fourth one, too, ma.”

A/N. Fully believe this man will fuck you till both of you pass out. 

Plagiarism not authorized. 

[perseus-oh-my-perseus]

Exactly My Thoughts [Mostly Directed At The Tags & Comments :))] So Here’s Some Book Thoughts/Ideas I’m Having For My Myth of Perseus Book

It’s not going to be a retelling because I know far too many people who hold these myths dear—including myself to Lord Perseus—and the general idea that surrounds the modern interpretation of this whole situation that it feels wrong to “pin it down” to one thing. Instead, it’s going to be an AU of sorts that will help pin down all the thought-invoking questions Ovid’s Medusa brings with how women are treated and their stories.

The “AU”s gonna be Blind!Danae who was blinded at some point during her pregnancy & Perseus’s childhood—perhaps through some sort of illness she suffered during one of the many tragedies of her life. With this AU, it will be able to emphasis Perseus’s “momma’s boy” characteristics along with being the “man of the house” once they’re on their quest and he is left taking care of the both of them. It will allow for a lot more of the story to be shown of their dynamic because it is such an intimate thing that even showing Perseus’s yearning for alone couldn’t properly show. It will allow for their culture to show through Danae telling Perseus stories as they made camp, and her struggling with the fact that it’s not her taking care of him anymore, it’s him taking care of her out there. It will also lead up to an intense or perhaps quiet scene with Medusa and Perseus trying to protect his mother but also being in mortal peril.

Pertaining to what we’re actually talking about, Medusa would probably adopt the two and travel home with them, Danae telling embarrassing stories while Perseus acts like the teenager he is trying to make his mother not tell them how he ran across the entire beach naked before someone could catch him. Poseidon already has a relationship with the two of them, and so there will be some fond moments of him being referenced and sprinkled in there as Medusa rolled her eyes as his dramatics because she’s entirely fond of him.

Them picking up Andromeda bc Perseus needs his arc again /lh. But it shows once again his need for helping others which stems from always being with his mom. Even with the fisherman—Polyductes, right? Or is that the asshole—, it was still always just him and her, at the core of it. Perseus and Andromeda having their cute awkward teens falling in love while they probably pick up other stragglers on the way back to kill the king

The gods are going to be portrayed a lot more through their Worshipped Aspects than their Storytelling/Myth Aspects like we see in a lot of other media. Such as the help of Athene and Hermes being shown through Altars and Signs rather than them appearing to also show another beautiful aspect of mythology that is rarely portrayed which is the Gods as they are worshipped

And a bunch of other stuff that are definitely more clear than this but I wanted to get over the awkward phase of knowing if ya’ll actually care or not, and then I’ll put effort into organizing and rambling, but yeah. My Myth of Perseus Book thoughts :))

Okay but when am I getting my non-Ovidian Medusa/Poseidon retelling huh

[gutsby]

Make It Stick

Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel never thought he’d need a vasectomy. Then, one night, he accidentally finishes inside you.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected-peepaw-p-in-v (I’m sorry). Accidental creampie. Age gap. Cumplay. Breeding kink. Ovulation has led me places I wouldn’t go with a gun.

Note: Convergence is a painting by Jackson Pollock. We studied it in high school and I thought it looked like jizz idk

Word count: 4.7k

He should’ve gotten snipped when he had the chance.

Should’ve taken the plunge, faced his fears of needles and fluorescent-washed doctor’s offices like any man his age could have done and gotten the damn vasectomy. Now he was here, nearly two decades older and still none the wiser in this cold, dead world with a pretty young thing like you between his sheets. In lieu of elective surgery, Joel Miller had only to grit his teeth, bite hard, and repeat over and over again in his head, desperate:

‘Don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, DON’T—’

Words like those normally worked. With women that weren’t you, they tended to serve him exceedingly well.

But you were just so tight. And wet. And welcoming. And try as Joel might to pretend like he got laid on a regular basis, the truth was that he didn’t. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t seem to think straight when it came to this fixation he’d developed for you, so, instead, he let his dick do all the decision-making whenever he found himself around you. Ten times out of ten that ended in:

“J-J-Joel—oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—I’m gonna CUM.”

And that made it worth every last life-endangering drop.

Feeling how your flushed, lithe body came apart beneath his touch. How you needed him. How your eyes grew to half the size of your face and you gaped up at the man, lips parted, like you couldn’t even comprehend how the friction of seven inches could make you feel so good.

If he had it his way, he would’ve loved nothing more than to show you that feeling every night, and twice the next morning if his hip wasn’t giving him too much trouble.

But, at present, the man had bigger fish to fry. Like not becoming a new father at fifty-nine if he could help it.

With the last two fluttering pulses of your heat, and almost going cross-eyed from the pleasure as he felt it, Joel yanked his big, slippery cock out of your body and made a fist around his member as he always knew to do. Tugged and pulled and grunted above you—‘Sweet girl, you’re so fuckin’ good to me’—and watched your tits and your belly for the milky white ropes to ensue.

Strangely, though, your skin stayed the same.

No cum-spray Convergence appeared before him, no opaque and cloudy fluids dribbling down your ribs, nothing. Your stomach was as bare as the rest of you, save for a few beads of sweat, and that was all there was.

Joel shook his dick harder, confused. Beneath him, you were still coming down from your high smiling ear-to-ear and staring blissfully at the ceiling. Your chest rose and fell, rose and fell in quick succession, and while you endeavored to recollect your mind, Joel was losing his.

Where the FUCK was his cum?

In no naked horizontal tango to date had Joel simply…cum without noticing. Shit like that just didn’t happen to men, least of all to ones his age, so when he’d wrung his poor cock like a sodden towel and still saw nothing come out, he felt his stomach turn and plummet inside him.

He dropped to his hands and knees in less than a moment and lowered his head between your legs.

“No, Joel!” you squealed, giggling. Kicking your feet, “Another round and I’m gonna combust, you old perv!”

But Joel wasn’t looking to get his dick wet again. He was inspecting you. Or trying to, anyway. Quickly realizing he couldn’t see a thing in the darkness, he let out a breath through his nose and lifted you off the bed. Your naked frame thrown over his shoulder, bare hip beside his head and your strangled, muffled cry of, ‘What the hell, Joel?!’ hardly seemed to register with the man carrying you off.

You were toted to the bathroom. Joel was about to ease you down on your feet. Then, appearing to change his mind at the last second, he set you onto the sink instead. Your skin bristled with indignation, anger. A little arousal.

“Last time we did it on a sink we broke the faucet,” you reminded him, feigning more dismay than you really felt inside. If anything, you liked it when your fossil-age fuckbuddy switched things up. You were just exhausted.

Heedless of your words, Joel kneeled on the floor and pried your legs apart before him. When you swatted at his silver-flecked head, he brushed your hand away.

“Hold still,” he grunted.

“How come?”

“‘Cause I said.”

How quickly he commanded that tone of a father.

“Wanna sleep,” you groaned, about to roll your eyes.

But you couldn’t deny you liked being doted on by him.

Joel’s touch was gentle. Probing. Spidering down the most sensitive parts of your bare lower half, between your thighs, and slowly coaxing you closer to the edge of the sink. Your breath hitched when you saw his head tilt.

He appeared to be deep in thought—a rare sight for anyone who’d seen Joel Miller in the postcoital state. Most every time he’d blown his load before, the man was dead asleep within ten minutes. His joints could barely hold himself upright after a half hour of plowing the back forty, much less carry you, too, so you were puzzled now.

He thumbed at the seam of your cunt, and you whined:

“Jo-el—”

“Can ya…push, baby?” His eyes flitted up quickly.

“Push?”

“Yeah, just…” With a look you couldn’t quite read, he placed the palm of his other hand on your belly. Then, pressing, “Like this. Like you’re squeezin’ somethin’ out.”

You cocked a brow in muted confusion but did as he asked. You watched his gaze, and it stayed on you.

Or, rather, on that soft and pliant spot between your legs the old man seemed to favor so much. On any other occasion, in a position like this, he surely would’ve been wearing a smile. Tonight, his lips curled into a grimace.

And twisted even further when you ‘pushed’ like you did.

At first you felt nothing. A gentle clench of your walls supplied little more than a sense of having been stretched—no novel concept to you, who’d spent the last three-and-a-half months or so getting fucked by the finest AARP affiliate alive most every night. It wasn’t until you clamped down again that you got the feeling there was something else. Something thick and warm and slow as molasses trickling out from between your folds.

You let out a low, tender, ‘Mmph’ without meaning to; it felt kind of nice. Beneath you, Joel’s face turned grave.

He watched as his spend oozed out of your freshly-fucked hole and thought of vasectomies again.

You were young—too young to know better. Too sweet and naïve to see any peril in spreading your legs for a man like him, in a world like this. And Joel swore he’d be careful. But no post-apocalyptic birth control method was perfect, or even close to it, and it was clear he’d relied too heavily on reflexes to keep him from cumming inside you. Joel was old—too old to be doing this shit.

Too grown and well-versed in sex to be making mistakes as stupid as that. His brow pinched in, and he drew his next breath as if the air around him was growing scarce.

“Joel, what’s—”

“When’s the last time you— you— uh…bled?”

Hardly more in control of his face than the rate his heart went thudding in his chest, Joel winced at the end. This time, you were the one to knit your eyebrows together. You could tell by that tight, discomfited tone he wasn’t talking papercuts, but were still unsure of his purpose.

“Like two, two and a half weeks ago. Why?”

Well, fuck.

Joel buried his face in his hands. You scooted closer to the sink’s edge, thinking little of his cum leaking out.

“Why?” you tried again. Softer this time.

An old, weathered head lifted to greet you. It was bleak.

“You see this?” Joel paused. Swiping his finger through the viscous white substance that had trickled out on the counter, in a puddle now, “Y’know what it means, right?”

You let his look, and the question, remain suspended in air for a second. Then another. Then you shrugged.

“Yeah. But…you’re old,” came your answer at length.

You’re old.

Joel and you both knew as much, but the former wasn’t quite following your train of thought. Still wanting to try and mitigate damages while he could, though, Joel reached for the roll of toilet paper that was fastened to the wall and tore himself a strip. He bunched it up and, reaching for one of your knees to spread you further for him, took to daubing the tissue across your entrance.

“What’s me bein’ old got to do with anything?” A little sharp, then, seeing you flinch when he drew too close to your clit, “‘m sorry, baby, just— gotta get this out of you.”

You made a face but let him continue anyway. Your eyes followed each movement of his hand, and reflexively, the muscles in your thighs tightened. Why bother with this when the man has so many better uses for his hands?

For a second, your eyes fluttered half-shut.

“Maria says old folks are, uh…infertile. Got something to do with a middle pause,” you said, breaths labored.

Joel stopped just long enough to shoot you a look.

“Menopause,” he corrected, all too matter-of-fact, before returning to his work, “is a woman thing.”

What the hell were they teaching in Jackson’s sex ed classes, anyway? Then Joel remembered how his brother sincerely believed that women peed out of their vaginas until he was twenty-three, and the thought of you not knowing the ins and outs of male virility wasn’t the most far-fetched idea in the universe. Besides, sexual health wasn’t exactly the community’s highest priority when the world around it was in a perpetual state of decay and hordes of fungus-faced fuckers ran rampant in the wild.

He curved a tender, careful finger against the ring of muscles framing your sex, trying to absorb more cum, and your grip on the edge of the countertop tightened.

“S-So, you—” You swallowed, throat constricting a little too, “You’re sayin’…men can make babies…whenever?”

You sounded so innocent as you said it. Joel wanted nothing more than to club himself over the head for being the cause of this predicament—of being such an instrumental part of the perceived corruption, as it was.

Meanwhile, your head was swimming in filthier thoughts.

Deeper, Joel, keep…pushing in…dee-e-per. You would have scarcely had more luck giving a fuck what Joel was talking about now than if he’d just said the room was on fire. By his voice, you knew you should’ve been paying attention, but the dexterity of his fingers was too much. He was caressing the first couple inches of your inner walls, attempting to scrape what bits of his release he could get unstuck from the flesh, but it seemed he was succeeding mostly in just turning you on. Rendering you deaf to the drone of his words as you pictured him pushing something else inside your tight, throbbing—

“—whole lotta problems for us if you’re, uh…ovulating,” Joel finished, expression taut and oblivious. You hadn’t heard the first part of that sentence and didn’t care to.

“Ovulating,” you repeated slowly. Indifferent.

Joel carried on without a hitch.

“Kids just ain’t fit for this world. I know you know that.”

You nodded along, not hearing a word.

“And if you’re— if y’ever did consider, maybe…”

Your lungs took an extra sharp inhale when Joel’s fingers coaxed out a warm, sticky glob of his load, and he petted your folds with his thumb. Then let out a breath himself.

“…y’oughta start a family with someone your own age—”

That part snagged your attention. Too swiftly, it came:

“My own age?”

Sighing, in spite of those welts of pleasure so heightened by his touch that the space between your legs began to throb and ache. Hardly possessed of more sense to form words that weren’t just echoes of his own, you tried communication from a simpler source—your foot.

You nudged his shoulder, and Joel looked up.

“What?”

“What?”

Parroting was, evidently, a hard habit to kill. Your toes curled into the bare skin of Joel’s shoulder, and when he re-inserted his finger, you ground your heel even deeper.

“When’s that ev…ever stopped us from doing it before, hm?” you said, tone strained but laced with some humor too, “Thought you liked sayin’ you’d make me a mama.”

Joel’s face flooded pink at the recollection—as a matter of fact, there had been several such memories. Instead of answering immediately, he just averted his gaze again. He anchored one hand to your thigh, and with the other teased out another string of your shared arousal before wiping his finger on the tissue, clinically, and repeating. All he had to offer in reply after was: ‘That’s different.’

And it was, to some extent. Joel wasn’t blind to the sea of uneasy looks that trailed behind you both whenever you walked the streets of Jackson together. How wide the eyes would get when instead of observing some filial display of affection play out before them, as expected, you’d loop your arms around his waist and take his lip between your teeth as you kissed—‘Can we please go home now, baby?’—that Joel was certain he’d been cemented as the resident pervert among everyone in town. Just how much worse that reputation was liable to get if there ever happened to be a round and swollen belly between that embrace someday was unthinkable. Dirty talk was one thing; parenthood another entirely.

This is for the best, became the low, grating refrain in his skull. Why he dug so hard, pushed so far inside the wet, velvety interior of your body without a thought for his own desires in that moment; he had to cull every trace of himself out of there, before he had half a chance to think.

“Baby, hey, hey, no—” Joel cut in a second later, abrupt.

No, no, no. You weren’t thinking either. Wrapping your hand around his wrist, pushing his fingers deeper inside.

Smiling a little, too.

“What are you— no, honey, don’t— you can’t,” Joel’s words splintered in every direction, watching you plunge his own index and middle fingers into the slick and the warmth he’d just been trying to get his cum out of. He looked up and saw your lids were heavy, about to close.

“What are you doin’? This ain’t…no, baby, it ain’t…safe.”

Back to sounding like a dad in no time at all.

“What’s wrong with leaving it in a bit longer? Feels nice.”

You had no idea what you were talking about. Joel pulled back on his hand and, in less than a second, had it freed.

“I just told you,” he huffed, “You’re too young—”

“I’m plenty old, Joel,” you returned, eyes snapping open, “You’ve shown me that more times than I can count.”

Joel was silent, stunned. He rose to his feet as your eyes seared holes into his, and for a second, he was uncertain whether to take a step back or reach out for you again.

“Baby…”

To his surprise, something like hurt surfaced behind your eyes. You set your lips in a tighter line, and your grip on the counter grew firmer just the same. He would’ve taken that move as his cue to lean in gently, slot his body between your thighs, and venture an apology of some sort, when the next thing you did stopped him cold.

Without a word, you slipped your free hand between your legs—eyeing Joel closely, almost scornfully, as you did.

You took your middle and ring fingers and sank them into your cunt. Not intending to let a drop of his spend leak out, you wedged them in as far as they’d go. Joel watched. Gawked. Once sufficiently pleased with the look of shock taking over his handsome, aged features, you withdrew the fingers. You brought them up to your mouth, wrapped your lips around the tips, and sucked.

It was a rare thing to get a taste of you and Joel together like this, so you savored it. You moved your mouth further down to drink it all in, peering up with wide, indulgent eyes and a look that was meant to punish.

Feels nice.

Tastes alright, too.

You’d licked the last bit of this glaze off your hand when your stomach clenched. You knew it would happen. Full as you were, you feared your body still hungered for more. As such, it hardly came as a surprise when next your muscles tensed, and you shifted closer to Joel.

“Maybe I don’t want babies with someone my own age.”

Either one of your knees were nudging his hips. Drawing him in. Joel appeared to waver for a second, unsure, but the look on his face made it clear this was mostly a matter of a delayed reaction. He couldn’t get his legs to move because the rest of him was still in awe. Staring at your lips, where the residue of his spend was glistening, then to your eyes, which were no less inviting, then up to the crown of your head and over it, to fix his stare on the mirror behind it. You watched him watch his own reflection with a look that was both hard and unkind, breathing slow. When he didn’t stir from that position after a minute, you touched a hand to his lower stomach.

And, brushing the heel of your palm against what felt like a hundred grey hairs in the old man’s happy trail—your favorite ones—you smoothed a caress along his belly, back and forth, before moving it left. Your hand came to rest on a mound of muscle and fat sitting right above his hip. Love handles, Joel had remarked one morning with vague distaste. Love handles, you’d repeated, beaming. You held on tightly now, appreciatively, and used your well-loved wall of flesh to pull him closer. As with any beckoning of yours, Joel didn’t have so much as half a mind to resist. He did, however, refuse to meet your gaze while you tilted your hips and spread your legs wider, before winding your ankles around the backs of his legs.

“Don’t you think I’d look pretty?” You pouted up at him. Your folds made a light, warm suction rubbing along the front of Joel’s cock—of course he’d grown hard again, and you could hold him, point him down to that wet embrace awaiting him patiently at the edge of the sink.

Joel cursed under his breath.

“‘Course I do…” he said, voice hoarse, “Y’always look—”

“I mean…with your baby inside me, Joel. Right here.”

As if to put a finer point on your words, you nestled the head of his cock inside the first inch of your body. Joel had to seize the laminate underneath you and grit his teeth to keep from letting out a groan too loud. That tip may as well have been a first-rate conductor of heat, and your warmth the thing that might send him spilling again

“You don’t—” Joel choked out, nearly incensed, “—don’t know what the hell you’re sayin’, baby. What that means.”

In truth, there wasn’t a world Joel Miller could imagine where a girl like you could give more than a passing thought to getting knocked up by him—a man his age. What good would it do? You had your whole life laid out before you like a four-course dinner spread; there was no sense whatsoever in letting the meal go to waste on him.

He communicated as much by moving to pull out.

You met the effort with a push of your own, sinking down another inch or two on his shaft and smiling when you saw his eyes roll back in his head at the dizzying friction.

“I know more than enough, old man—” Grin stretching ear-to-ear as you dug your heels in his ass and tugged him deeper, “—who do you think taught me all this?”

Of course, it had been Joel.

Always, always him—the only one, in fact.

Your walls drew him in like a hug. For once, Joel conjured up the strength to take a look between your lower half and his, and when he did, the next moan was inevitable. It trickled through his lips. Your body looked sublime swallowing a third of his cock, and it was almost as though a maggot had crawled into his brain, chanting:

‘Make her full. Make her yours. Tell any man who’d even think of looking her way she belongs to someone else.’

He couldn’t.

Joel would never be so selfish. Just think of her youth.

But when his gaze drifted back to yours, every thought and any word besides seemed gently to melt away. Beneath him, your eyes were two pools of desire.

“You like this…don’t you, Joel?” Your voice was tiny.

“I do.”

In fact, he loved it.

“Then why can’t we?” Why shouldn’t we?

Minuscule now, the words that reached him barely exceeded a whisper. It was as though the moment itself had drained all fear from your face—and out of Joel, all common sense from his brain—leaving you both to stare at the other with shared, stupid, anoetic looks of bliss. The man who had you beat by thirty-odd years seemed nearly of the same mind, with almost identical ignorance.

Idiocy.

“Just once?” Joel croaked.

Somewhere underneath, unseen, you smiled.

“Just one?” you murmured back.

He sank in another inch. When your walls contracted around him, Joel’s hands found your hips by force of habit and pushed your back against the glass behind it. The mirror was cool, and inside you, Joel was throbbing.

“Once,” he repeated, not thinking too deeply.

“One,” you said, with a world of more purpose.

Joel relinquished the last three inches, and with it, all of his resolve. The handsome, scarred, and plainly greying features all twisted as one, and the expression that you knew too well to mean that the man was feeling good took on the slightest hint of guilt. He gripped you tighter.

“One?” Joel panted. Confused.

He pulled out halfway just to find his home again. Your pearly slick mixed together with his spend, and both coated over Joel’s shaft in a pretty, generous sheen.

“One more of you, I mean.” You sounded too sweet. There was no way in hell you’d actually meant it.

Joel’s cheeks flushed again, but he didn’t stop, either.

“Baby…” he trailed off instead. He pushed in, pulled out, felt your tender little hole make an ‘o’ around his shaft, and then he kissed the edge of your left cheek—maybe to rein in the need in his words before he spoke again: “One’a me takes and I’m givin’ ya fifteen more, y’hear?”

The smile he received told him as much as he needed to hear. He probably wouldn’t have believed it even if you’d said the words yourself. Joel’s thrusts sped up, and as the pleasure distended in the pit of his stomach with the friction and the feel, his words flowed a little more freely.

In disbelief, “Wanna be a mama that bad for me, huh?”

Your grin grew bigger. You nodded your head.

“Make your old man a daddy, is that it?”

Exactly. Senseless as it was, your look said it all.

To have slipped between the grooves and ridges of Joel’s brain and caught wind of even a fraction of the things he wanted to do to you then, a smarter girl would have run. Would have shoved him back out as swiftly as she’d let him in and told him no, that’s gross, and gone home. And, had the grey matter floating inside your own skull not been so completely dominated by primal need and wanting, that’s likely what you would have done, too. Instead, with a head full of lewd, youthful stupidity, you seized the black-grey curls dangling at the nape of his neck and drew him closer. You spread your legs wider.

“That is what you’ve wanted this whole time, right?”

Under his scruff, a muscle tensed as Joel bit down.

That’s all he’s ever wanted.

Let the neighbors talk.

Let them say what they wanted to say—it was probably all true to the point they were trying to make, anyway. That Joel was a pervert, of course. That you were naïve, also true. That you would look too good not to stare in a white cotton frock with a bump underneath, absolutely. These were the ideas permeating your brain and his while Joel took a firmer hold of your sides and brought his nose to rest against yours. With every stab of his hips, he pressed kisses to your soft, parted lips, speaking low:

“That what you want, too, darlin’?” More serious now.

The head of his cock nicked a sensitive ridge inside you, eliciting a whimper, but you nodded. You nodded again, feeling the brush of his stubble at your mouth and your chin, and nodded again when he bottomed out, stuffing you tight. It felt a little more momentous than any other time in the past, now that you were picturing a fullness that wasn’t just him. Him and you: a concrete being to soothe the sting of his absence long after Joel withdrew.

Something to stick.

“Please say it, baby.”

Someone to call yours.

“I want it,” you said, sounding desperate.

A coil was just starting to form in the place you felt him. Drifting up, pulling tight, making your eyes go glossy and wide while they stuck to Joel’s and begged him for more.

“Want what?” He sped up, and his thrusts got sloppy.

“Want you,” you breathed, “Inside me, Joel, please.”

As if predicting your next thoughts, the man lowered his hand to your belly. You hadn’t even noticed the smallest bulge had taken shape beneath the skin. Joel slowed, momentarily, then rubbed the base of his palm against the mound where your body was obliged to make room for his cock inside you. He drew soft, tender circles there and, with the motion, sent stars flying before your eyes.

“Good girl,” he murmured, “Right here?”

“Ri— right there. Right there.”

Joel adored that sound. The soft, elated look, the gentle knoll of flesh in a bump below his hand, the whimpers rolling off your tongue repeatedly, quicker and quicker the more the pleasure inside you continued to build. Joel’s release was coming soon, too. For the hundredth time that night, he silently wished he were a little younger; so he could fill you up once, twice, twenty more times until your insides were stuffed and painted white. As if reading his mind, as he had for you, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Hope our baby has your eyes,” you murmured to him.

It shouldn’t have had such a strong effect—but of course, it did. Joel pictured the small, sweet infant with irises that shone a bit like his, and his stomach caved in.

Tonight, tomorrow, or ten months down the line, he was getting you pregnant. He’d clear his whole schedule for it

“That right?” And now he couldn’t stop the smile as he spoke, leaning even further in, “What about their nose?”

He kissed the tip of yours.

“Hope they get this.”

He kissed either one of your cheeks.

“These too.”

You had to fight back a laugh while his scruff tickled skin. Two deep strokes away from the brink of release and he still somehow always stayed in tune with your needs.

The threat of your peak was perilously near. Joel’s spend and your slick, tender glaze made a chorus of sounds at each thrust, and the deeper he went, the bigger it swelled. Your smiles couldn’t stay for much longer when the feeling inside you both was being amplified like that. Sensing this, Joel took hold of your face and slipped his touch to cup your chin. He made you tilt your head up to him, as if to ask again, ‘Are you sure?’ and when you nodded, his lips twitched again. A fleeting hint of a grin, like he couldn’t be more eager to finish now if he tried.

Holding your face, cock swollen and throbbing and desperate between your walls, he felt a familiar twitch.

There it is.

[jjk4isen]

ꗃ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃, 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 .

❝ answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and holding me— was she the one on your mind? ❞

summary: it's hard knowing you aren't really the person in toji's heart but loving him was something you still did regardless. as for toji, he thinks he's ready to give you his all.

desc: 2.8k words, f!reader (referred to as ‘mama’), canon compliant i think, takes place after mamaguro's death and before toji’s, age gap (early 20s reader, early 30s toji), baby gumi ahhhhh, sfw, angst to fluff to angst again lol, intended lowercase, think you're tsumiki’s mom but without tsumiki bc the relations would be too complicated and also the second wife erasure in the canon storyline?? yeah it's reserved specifically for this fic, not proof read i fear but pls read it's really interesting i can swear by it lmaoqhdhns

dating a widowed man with a son wasn't easy especially when the said man is still in love with his former wife, or rather, his wife who had died.

love is often beautiful but sometimes it's unfair. it can also be cruel. what other reason would make you still stay despite knowing you'll never measure upto the person who had been here before you?

and you've heard stories about her. she was sweet, so beautiful— not just in her appearance but her entire being was beautiful. there always was an ache in your heart upon just the mention of her name.

so how much more would it have ached for toji?

“mama” the spiky haired boy, barely two years old calls you and you realise the silence in the room. “not mama, i’m nana okay?” sick.

nana. not mama but close enough. it doesn't matter anyway, n and m are just letters and next to each other so how much difference would that make? you're the one that's here after all, are you not?

if there's a lump in your throat and your eyes are burning with unshed tears, you force yourself to ignore.

“okay nana” megumi nuzzles his face into your chest, slowly drifting away to sleep. the boy always liked cuddling with you and it melts your heart immensely.

your hands strand through his dark hair. people always said he's the carbon copy of his dad but you'd like to differ. megumi has his mother's eyes and his hair resembled hers more than it did his dad's.

the thought sends another ache in your chest but you push it away– as you always have.

you recall the last time toji had heard megumi call you “mama”. you had never seen toji that livid. he was never a gentle man to begin with but that night, there was nothing else you've been more scared of.

was he like that to his wife? maybe not.

does that matter though? it's not like toji treats you badly. he's decent and loves you an enough amount. you weren't crazy enough to stay when you're not wanted so that must mean you were something to him right?

you also recall the whispers of pity and condemnation thrown at you for just being with toji. him being a brute is one thing but the difference in age is what people seem to have a problem with. you're so much younger than him and have your whole life ahead of you so why are you entrapping yourself this way?

you disagree though. love doesn't know any age and you definitely aren't naive to be head over heels over a guy just because he's relatively older. no, this was real and genuine.

a faint knock disrupts your train of thoughts. “he sleepin’?” toji nods towards the small boy in your arms and you nod back in return.

taking care not to wake the sleeping kid, you slowly pry his hands away from you and pull over a blanket to cover his small body.

when you make your way towards toji, he wastes no time in pulling you closer “missed you” he mumbles, placing a kiss onto your forehead and suddenly all thoughts plaguing your mind disappears. that's all you could ask for, even if it was just for a moment.

“i missed you more” you whisper back, he only huffs out an amused chuckle.

“got bad news though” a frown finds itself on his lips, decorated by a single scar next to it.

“did you lose all your money again?” toji was a gambling addict, another thing you forced yourself to tolerate just for him.

“sorry, doll. thought i’d win this time” he rubs small circles on your back comfortingly and it makes you a bit uneasy to know that he has his way with you so easily.

“it's alright. i’ll just find another part time job”

“so good to me” toji pulls you into his chest and you let out a sigh— of exhaustion? relief? you couldn't really tell but that's not important, toji had you in his arms.

“i’ll try and think of something too. don't worry your pretty little head too much” he lifts you up with ease. while you're in his arms, you feel the safest.

toji really felt bad this time. he was confident he would win but that stupid horse had to trip and lose its lead, ending up last of all places. he knows luck never favoured him but that's didn't stop him from trying again and again and again.

he also knows how you didn't say anything more than necessary about it but he isn't that much of an idiot either. he sees how your expression falters and your shoulders slump a little more when he comes home with another news of his gambling loss.

this is also why he tries, or rather, tried to quit — one too many times, unbeknownst to you. however, old habits die hard and most of the time (everytime) toji gives into his urge and loses yet again. the cycle keeps happening.

maybe this isn't just about gambling.

with the way you're asleep so soundly next to him after putting his son to sleep and taking care of him too, he is overcomed with yet another feeling to be better for you and megumi alike.

toji isn't a gentle man; everyone knows that, you do too — even more than anybody else but he can't help the familiar pool of warm feelings surging through him the longer he stares at your peaceful state.

he remembers the last time he felt it, with another person. it felt like a lifetime ago.

he also remembers how painful it was when he lost it — the person, the feeling altogether. his hands that were making their way to caress your face stops mid air.

toji knows you deserve so much better. you've been nothing but patient to him, so amazing, so perfect to him. still, he just can't do it yet, just not yet.

he will eventually, he hopes you stay until then.

toji wakes up to an empty bed and his heart sinks a little but the creases and wrinkles on the sheets serve as a reminder that you were really here.

he makes his way towards the kitchen, only finding megumi sitting on a chair next to the dining table.

“hey kid, where's your mama?”

toji freezes. it came out so naturally he didn't realise he said it himself and almost thinks he didn't but megumi's wide eyes prove that he actually did.

“m…mama?” megumi says hesitantly and toji nods this time. “yes, your mama”.

“potty potty!” megumi points to the bathroom and giggles, toji follows suit. the man crouches to his son's eye level and pats his head.

“you love your mama, kid?” toji sees megumi's eyes sparkle as the boy nods enthusiastically “very very much!!”

“yeah? i love your mama too.”

toji smiles to himself, he can't wait to tell that to you.

the next time toji got his pay, he finds himself hesitating. instead of heading towards the race tracks, his feet takes him to a jewellery store.

instead of picking out a slot and testing his luck, he picks out a ring. it's not fancy by any means but he thinks it would be the most beautiful band of metal to exist if it slides into your ring finger.

the tiny ring carries all the heavy feelings he has for you.

──

it was one particular evening when you saw an old man lingering by the front gate. its particular because the warm sunset and the soft cool breeze contrasted the ground breaking truth you find out.

“can i help you?” you ask the old man who looks at you up and down, not making an attempt to hide his distaste of your sight.

“is this where toji zenin lives?” he stares down at you with his scrutinising gaze; it makes you feel small.

“zenin?” you ask, confused. is he referring to toji? but his last name is fushiguro is it not?

“yes toji zenin. i heard he has a son as well. you're not the mother are you?”

is it that obvious? you wonder how the old man figured it out. regardless, you're not about to give him his answers so you stood your ground.

“i’m sorry i don't know what you're talking about.” you turn around, about to head inside when his words make you stop short.

“are you fushiguro?”

that's toji’s last name isn't it? not zenin or whatever he called it. so why is he asking you that? is he implying that you're married to toji?

“no. you have the wrong person.”

“why? did he say not to get involved with anyone from his clan?” the old man draws closer, chucking to himself. you're just there unmoving, trying to comprehend the situation and the words coming from his mouth.

“or did he not tell you that either? did he tell you anything at all?” he stands tall in front of you, tearing away bits of yourself with every word he says.

“when he returns, tell him the clan wants to propose him an offer. you can do that much at least won't you?”

…

and when toji comes home that night with the ring cluched tightly in his fist and inside the pocket of his white pants, the world stills.

he finds you in a state he has never seen you before. you look completely and utterly defeated.

“hey, what's wrong?” his hands come to caress your face so effortlessly, the ring and prior nervousness long forgotten.

“talk to me what's going on?” he looks around and the house seems emptier than usual. your laundry that were usually hanging with his were gone.

your small trinkets you placed around the house to “make it more lively” were nowhere to be found.

and there's a bag in the corner of the room which toji prays and hopes he isn't what he thinks it is.

your hands push away his own that were cupping your face. you're not even looking at him.

“say something damn it!”

you flinch and toji takes a step back. he recalls the last time you trembled in fear — when he got mad megumi called you his mom. he punishes himself for it.

“im sorry. please talk to me.” he isn't touching you now but he wants to. he wants to reach out and pull you close, as he always had done. but now there's an unbearable silence and the small distance between you both felt like lightyears away.

“who's zenin” your voice was meek, barely a whisper but toji's eyes widen. how did you find out about that?

no fuck that, he was supposed to be the one telling you. in his own time.

“i can explain” was all that came out of him. he's nervous, he doesn't know where to start. there's a lot of information to unpack and he's not sure how to do it without hurting you too much.

when he doesn't elaborate, you ask another “who's fushiguro then?” your voice falters a bit and toji curses himself for it.

but he's done running away and keeping things from you. “my… my late wife” he says wryly.

your eyes close and a shaky breath leaves your body, as if he just confirmed your worst suspicions. damn life is so funny isn't it? everything you thought you knew apparently wasn't what it seemed to be after all.

opening them again, your vision blurs and you realise tears were escaping your eyes. fuck you didn't want to cry now of all times but they won't stop.

and the way toji was looking at you, it makes you want to throw up.

“i must've been so stupid to you” you let out a humourless chuckle. “did you pretend im her?”

your gaze was sharp and so were your words. maybe all your bottled up feelings were resurfacing. it doesn't make you feel better about it but that doesn't stop you though.

“answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and when you're holding me, was she the one on your mind??” your voice was loud now. you should be afraid of waking up megumi who you cradled to sleep just a few hours ago but no, your thoughts are too clouded right now.

toji sighs. he has no excuse.

“i used to” he actually looks ashamed as if he wasn't the one who did it purely out of his will.

your scoff makes him wince “but not anymore.”

his words fall on deaf ears “you know… i knew you did. but i stayed regardless because i thought there would be a chance that maybe one day, you could open up your heart to me. im not even asking for all of it, just a little… i thought you'd let me in.”

you're blabbering and honestly, so distraught.

“but not a moment was there when it was me isn't it? it was always her in the first place.”

now toji should have said something, anything but he stays there planted in place. and maybe that was your breaking point.

you turn around, grabbing your bag and brushing past him towards the door. instead of holding onto you and stopping you, toji clutches the small box containing the ring — your ring in his pocket, almost crushing it in the process, as he hears the door slam.

you think it's funny how toji did not reach out after what happened. it's poetic even. very fitting of him, till the very end, he did not give two shits about you.

so then, why were you back here?

it's been four long years since the trajectory of your life changed. you still don't know if it was for the better or for the worse.

saying it has been hard would be an understatement. it took you a long time just to get back onto your own feet but you did it regardless. however, you left a part of you here long ago and now, you're here to take it back.

that and you missed megumi dearly. perhaps it was an excuse too because you won't deny a part of you still missed toji, despite everything that happened.

standing a few feet away from the place you used to call home, you hesitate.

maybe this was a bad idea. oh this was definitely a bad idea. you'll see them, and then what? what comes after that?

closure? don't make yourself laugh. you’ll just be reminded of how you couldn't be that person for toji— how you'll always come second. and what if they moved?? there's no reason they'd still be here right?

forget this, you don't need to do this. why must you still be the one who put effort? to reach out? four long years passed and still no news means they clearly moved on... right?

you were convinced enough and was about to go back when you saw little megumi carrying a backpack on his back, seemingly coming home from school.

your feet wouldn't move and your eyes wouldn't blink. he grew up so well.

the world pauses as your gaze follows the kid you used to consider your own, now as good as a stranger.

“do you know that kid?” a voice at your back makes you whip your head around. life really is full of surprises and this time, the surprise was in the form of a tall man, no a tall kid with white hair, looking at you curiously through his round tinted glasses.

“... no i don't” well you weren't exactly lying. you don't know the megumi you see now. perhaps if he asked whether you raised him since he was a baby till he was two, then your answer would've been different.

“oh okay” the boy shrugs. “poor guy though”

“why? whats up with him?” you turn to look at megumi again who was minding his business walking home and your heart aches a little.

“I'm here to recruit him. his dad died you see so he's–”

“wait what was that??”

“his dad. he's dead” the amused boy in front of you chuckles and you stare at him, horrified.

“what happened to him?” your voice was shaky and doesn't sound like your own. he leans down to meet your eye level and smirks “why? i thought you don't know that kid. why does that matter to you?”

your stomach churns as you stare at him, not even knowing what to say— the smug expression on his face only widens.

“so you do know him.”

'know' would be a weak word to use when it comes to toji. you knew of his habits, the simple things he does and also of the more complex ones — like the exact place his scar decorated his lips and how it felt to kiss it.

then again, you don't really know anything about him and maybe you never will.

and maybe that's really, the closure you needed.

[curryshesus]

jeon jungkook fics that had me going feral

hi guys, here's a part 2 to my favorite jjk fics on tumblr! note that many of these fics contain 18+ content. you are responsible for the content you consume! as always, if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, please take a moment to send some love to the authors! part 1 | other bts members

➺ cold nights & blurred lines - by @awrkive

summary: jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

➺ night crawlers - by @alphabetboyluvr

summary: jungkook’s always been good at running. track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. drugs, now, too. but he doesn’t expect to run into you. in your shared lecture halls, sure. maybe. but not down the back alleys of daerim at ass o’clock in the morning. there are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. you aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. he's sure of it. so it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?

➺ this is how you fall in love - by @jeonqkooks

summary: after years of drinking and clubbing most days of the week and leaving every gig with a different girl on his arm, jungkook feels what it’s like to want someone with his entire being.

➺ the dilf installments - by @mercurygguk

summary: this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!

➺ ultimatum - by @parkmuse

summary: your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).

➺ a hero's journey - by @hansolmates

summary: jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story

➺ tempest - by @kooktrash

summary: you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.

➺ by its cover - by @gimmesumsuga

summary: the one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression.

➺ slow dancing - by @yoonia

summary: when your countdown appeared on your wrist right in the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesn’t seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale.

➺ e s p r e s s o - by @joonberriess

➺ hold me closer - by @ahundredtimesover

summary: when you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up… Not if your brother can help it, though.