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mononijikayu · 6 months ago

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“a life, a sparkle in your eyes/heaven coming through” — gojo satoru.

It was a smile that spoke volumes, conveying a multitude of emotions in its simple curve. It was a smile of acceptance, of love, of unwavering support for the choices you had made. And in that smile, you found reassurance, a silent affirmation that you were cherished and adored just as you were, in every form and iteration. One that you hadn’t seen in a long time. And Satoru somehow has the kindest one you’ve ever seen before. The most precious.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: the astronaut by jin of bts

NOTE: jin of bts is returning from the military in a couple of hours and this song was on repeat and i had a satoru idea so here we are!!! anyway, i love you!!! ill see you in the next update of ashes of love <3333

masterlist

u s and t h e m

YOU REFLECT A LOT ABOUT YOUR LIFE. You lost faith in love a long time ago. You had been surrounded by love all your life, enveloped in its warmth and comfort. But then your father died, and you were taken from your mother. Your world shattered, leaving you adrift in a sea of sorrow. Then it was Kaiko and Namie who became your anchors. You clung to them desperately, finding solace in their presence and, once more, you were surrounded by love.

But the cycle repeated itself cruelly. Somehow, no matter how you want to escape it, the same suffering was bound to repeat itself. Namie died, and Kaiko went insane, driven mad by her own grief, and left you to inflict her pain upon the world. And then you spilled her blood with your hands, trying to prevent more suffering. You were alone again, cast into the abyss of solitude. Suffering the voices in your head and the shadow of a lost love.

It was a bleak existence, a never-ending cycle of loss and heartache, until one fateful day. You found a cat stuck in a tree, its desperate cries mirroring your own silent pleas for help. As you struggled to rescue the frightened creature, a voice called out to you. It was Gojo Satoru, a first-year boy with striking white hair and a confident demeanor. He approached with an easy smile, offering his assistance without hesitation.

It was a bleak existence, a never-ending cycle of loss and heartache, until one fateful day. You found a cat stuck in a tree, its desperate cries mirroring your own silent pleas for help. As you struggled to rescue the frightened creature, a voice called out to you. It was Gojo Satoru, a first-year boy with striking white hair and a confident demeanor. It was hard to not know what he looked like. You’ve seen him enough in the clan gatherings, though never once interacted with him. And besides, the six-eyes was too hard to miss. He approached with an easy smile, offering his assistance without hesitation.

"Need some help?" Satoru called out, his voice light and friendly.

You glanced down, surprised by the sudden intrusion. "I think I can manage," you replied, though your grip on the tree branch was precarious.

Satoru chuckled, easily reading the situation. "Looks like the cat isn't the only one stuck," he teased, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. "Hold on, I'll get it."

Before you could protest, he effortlessly climbed up beside you. With a gentle but firm hand, he coaxed the trembling cat into his arms. "There we go, little guy," he murmured to the cat before turning to you. "And now for the other rescue."

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as Satoru helped you down from the tree, his touch warm and reassuring. "Thank you.” you mumbled, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude.

"No problem," he said with a grin. "I'm Gojo Satoru, by the way. What's your name?"

You hesitated for a moment, then replied, "Zenin. Gen—”

Satoru's eyes widened slightly with recognition, but his grin only widened. "Oh! Then you’re my senpai?" he said, a playful snicker in his voice as he eyed you from head to toe. “You look pretty for a Zenin.”

The unexpected comment caught you off guard. You couldn’t believe what he’s saying. No one had ever been this blunt with you. At all. You felt like you were glitching. Your face scrunches up as you narrow your lilac eyes at him.

"Excuse me?" you replied, a mix of disbelief and curiosity coloring your tone.

Satoru shrugged nonchalantly, his smile never wavering. "Just saying, you don't have that usual 'I'm better than everyone else' Zenin aura about you. It's... refreshing. Does that make sense?"

You couldn't help but smirk at his bluntness. "Well, I don't exactly fit in with my family." you admitted, the bitterness in your voice hinting at the pain behind your words. You stopped. He was literally stranger. There’s no need to say anything. “Wait, why am I telling you this?”

“Maybe I’m just a comforting person?”

“No, No, that—”

Satoru's expression softened. "Though, I think I get you, senpai. I get that. Not everyone fits into the mold they're given. But hey, that's not necessarily a bad thing. I mean, you’re already cooler than the rest of your ugly—”

You snicker suddenly.

He looks at you for a moment.

You cough back, waving him off.

“Just a cough, don’t worry.”

“I don’t know, Zenin-senpai. That sounds like a laugh to me.”

"And what about you, Gojo Satoru? Do you fit the mold?" You say, changing the topic. Saying too much will only be a headache.

He laughed, a sound so carefree it was almost contagious. "Me? I'm the mold-breaker," he declared confidently. "I do things my way, and if people don't like it, well, that's their problem. But who are they to stop me anyway? I’m the strongest!”

You couldn’t help but be intrigued by the boy. If it wasn’t for how genuine he is, you would think his latter comment was condescending. But you feel like there was more to him than that. His eyes tell. For the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope. A glimmer of life itself was in him and you could tell that easily.

This Gojo boy, with his easy going smile and unwavering confidence, was different. He didn't see you as just another Zenin, and that was a revelation. He reminded you of Kaiko for a bit. And that for a moment gave you heartache. But you don’t want to tell him that. You doubt it was proper.

"Maybe breaking the mold isn't such a bad idea, I think." you mused, a small smile playing on your lips.

Satoru's grin widened. "That's the spirit, senpai. Now, how about we get this cat somewhere safe and then figure out how to break a few more molds together?"

“Hm, why not?” you hummed back at him as you took the cat in your arms. The small creature purred, nestling comfortably against you, as if sensing the new bond forming between the two of you.

Satoru's presence seemed to imbue the world around him with a sense of joy and vitality. His easygoing demeanor and infectious energy were like a beacon of light in the midst of the wide echo of the school grounds. As you walked beside him, you couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly he seemed to navigate through life, as if every challenge was nothing more than a fleeting inconvenience.

It was a stark contrast to your own experiences, weighed down by the burdens of your past and the responsibilities that now rested on your shoulders. Yet, despite the heaviness that often threatened to engulf you, being in Satoru's presence brought a sense of relief, a temporary reprieve from the weight of your worries.

There was something magnetic about the way he carried himself, a confidence and self-assuredness that seemed to radiate from within. It was as if he possessed an inner strength that allowed him to face whatever challenges came his way with grace and resilience.

As you observed him, you couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration and awe. Here was someone who had faced his own share of hardships and yet still managed to find joy in the simple pleasures of life. It was a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was always hope, always a reason to keep moving forward.

In Satoru's lightness, you found a source of inspiration, a reminder to embrace each moment with an open heart and a willingness to face whatever the future may hold. And as you walked beside him, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope stirring within you, a belief that perhaps, just perhaps, there was a brighter tomorrow waiting on the horizon.

"So, Zenin–senpai," Satoru began, breaking the comfortable silence, "what's your story? What makes you different from the rest of your clan?"

You glanced at him, contemplating how much to reveal. "It's a long story and too dull. I doubt it’s one to be heard." you replied cautiously. "Let's just say I don't agree with their methods. Or their values…..Or actually anything.”

Satoru nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I get that. Sometimes family can be the hardest to stand up to. But you seem strong enough to handle it. You got out.”

You gave a small, humorless laugh. "Strength isn't always enough. And I’m not yet out. I bear the last name.”

“But you don’t live in Zenin manor?” He hums, questioningly. “If you had, I would have seen you many times.”

“I did see you many times, before.”

“HUH? Then how come I haven’t seen you before?” His face contorts into a pitiful pout. “I would have noticed a Zenin like you — let alone that geezer’s eldest grandchild.”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, really. But you never greet people.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t. I was there.”

“Isn’t my presence enough as a greeting?” Gojo asks, almost haughtily. You want to smack him, but you hold yourself back. He’s such a brat. “I mean, I am a miracle, senpai.”

“No wonder Yaga complains about you.” You mumbled under your breath. “And it’s only the first year?”

“Hehhhhh, he complains about me?”

“Principal Gakuganji’s happier, if I’m being honest.” You look at him, as he seems curious. “Yaga complaints about you and that other boy—”

“Suguru got mentioned? Woah–”

“You both cause him high blood pressure.” You finally finished.

Satoru's expression shifted from curiosity to amusement as you revealed the cause of Principal Gakuganji's stress. "High blood pressure, huh?" he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I guess we do have a talent for causing trouble."

You nodded, a playful glint in your eye. "It's a special skill you and Geto-san seem to excel at." you teased, nudging him lightly with your elbow.

Satoru grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, what can I say? We're just too irresistible for our own good."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile at his infectious enthusiasm. Despite the challenges and chaos that seemed to follow him wherever he went, there was something undeniably charming about Satoru's carefree attitude. It was as if he refused to let anything dampen his spirits, choosing instead to find joy in the most unexpected places. The quiet came again between the two of you.

“Sometimes, it's about finding the right people to stand with you."

“Hm?” Satoru looks at you, his cerulean blue piercing towards you.

“That would get you by.” You made it clear to him as you shifted the cat against your kimono’s sleeves. “But I suppose from what I heard, you and the other first years get along well enough. Continue that.”

Satoru's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Well, you've got me now too, senpai. And trust me, I'm pretty good at standing up to people. Aren’t I the one that made Principal Gakuganji nearly shit himself?”

“Language.” You tell him as he rolled his eyes. But he was right. Principal Gakuganji felt like he was about to whip out his guitar when he first met Gojo Satoru. At least that’s what Utahime told you. “I know you’re good at standing up to people. But I hope you’re careful, hm?”

“Oh, is that a senpai’s advice?”

“A friend’s advice.”

“You already view us as friends?” He seemed hopeful about that. His eyes were gleaming brighter than ever before.

You chuckled softly, the warmth settling between you. "I suppose I do," you admitted, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Though, if you keep pestering Principal Gakuganji, I might have to reconsider."

“Ehhhhhhhh, but I don’t like him.”

You laughed, shaking your head. "Fair enough. Just try not to give him too much of a headache, alright?"

“I can’t promise anything about that, senpai.”

As you approached the dormitory, the cat still nestled peacefully in your arms, you felt a sense of optimism that had been absent for far too long. Maybe, with Satoru by your side, you could carve out a new path, one that defied the expectations and limitations of your clan. Or at least free you, at least just a little.

Satoru opened the door for you, and you stepped inside, feeling the warmth of the building embrace you. "So, where should we take this little guy?" he asked, looking at the cat.

"There's a place in the courtyard where some of the strays gather. It should be safe there for the little one." you suggested.

Satoru nodded, and together you made your way to the courtyard. As you set the cat down gently among the other strays, it looked up at you with grateful eyes before scampering off to join its new companions.

"See? One problem has already been solved by the great Satoru!" Satoru said with a grin. "Now, onto the next one."

You turned to him, a newfound determination in your eyes. "And what's the next one, exactly?"

He shrugged, his smile never fading. "Whatever we decide it is. The sky's the limit, senpai."

As you stood there, side by side with Gojo Satoru, you felt a spark of hope ignite within you. You didn’t remember him being this expressive or at all talkative all these years ago. But then again, you hadn’t met him in years. He had time to become the boy who met you now.

"It was nice to meet you today, Zenin-senpai. Really didn't think I'll meet you this soon!" Satoru said, setting the cat down gently. "But y'u know, I think you and this cat have something in common."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself. "Oh? What's that?"

He smiled, a hint of mischief in his cerulean eyes. "Both of you need someone to look out for you."

You looked away, the truth of his words hitting a little too close to home. You can’t believe how easily he sees through you. You just met this boy today and he’s already doing so much. You lived a lonely existence, you know that much. You were content with that. At least that’s what you always say to yourself.

"Maybe." you admitted quietly.

Satoru's expression softened. "Well, how about this? I'll look out for you if you look out for the cat. Deal?"

You couldn't help but smile at his earnestness. "Deal."

You did end up adopting the cat. Despite its initial skittishness, it soon settled into your life, providing an unexpected source of comfort and companionship. You named it "Gojonyan," inspired by the snowy white fur that reminded you so much of Satoru’s hair. And even more coincidentally, Satoru’s blue eyes.

Gojonyan had a playful and mischievous nature, always getting into places it shouldn't and constantly seeking attention. It would often curl up in your lap, purring contentedly as you stroked its soft fur, and you found solace in its presence. The cat’s energy and spirit mirrored Satoru's in uncanny ways. Just like him, Gojonyan seemed to have an endless reserve of curiosity and an unshakeable confidence, as if it knew it was meant to be part of your life.

Whenever you felt overwhelmed by the weight of your responsibilities or the shadows of your past, Gojonyan was there, a reminder of the moment your life began to change. The cat’s antics often brought a smile to your face, and its loyalty reminded you of Satoru’s steadfast support.

One evening, as you sat in your room with Gojonyan curled up beside you, you couldn't help but think back to that day by the tree. Satoru had shown you a new way to look at the world, a way that wasn't defined by loss and heartache. He had given you hope, and in a strange way, Gojonyan had come to symbolize that hope.

You often found yourself talking to Gojonyan, sharing your thoughts and fears as if the cat could understand every word. "You know, Gojonyan," you would say, scratching behind its ears, "you’re a lot like Satoru. Always so full of life and mischief. I think you two would get along just fine."

Gojonyan would respond with a soft purr, its eyes half-closed in contentment. You didn’t know if he was agreeing with you or not. But you still found your little one very cute. And comforting too. It was as if the cat understood the significance of Gojo Satoru’s presence in your life and the role it now played in helping you heal. And you feel like you are healing.

You often brought Gojonyan with you when you came by to Jujutsu High, especially when you had missions in Tokyo. The cat had become a familiar presence, trotting alongside you with an air of confidence that belied its small size. You enjoyed the company, and it seemed only natural to bring a piece of your new life with you.

However, you found yourself puzzled by Gojonyan’s behavior whenever Satoru was around. Despite the cat’s generally friendly disposition, it seemed to have taken a distinct dislike to him. The usually affectionate feline would arch its back and hiss whenever Satoru approached, much to his chagrin.

One afternoon, you were sitting in the common area of Jujutsu High with Gojonyan on your lap. Shoko and Suguru were there as well, enjoying a rare moment of relaxation between their duties. Satoru walked in, his usual confident swagger in place, but the moment Gojonyan spotted him, it let out a low growl and jumped off your lap, retreating to a corner.

Satoru’s shoulders slumped dramatically, and he looked at you with exaggerated sorrow. “Why does Gojonyan hate me, Gen-senpai? I thought we were friends!” His tone was a mix of genuine disappointment and playful theatrics.

Shoko chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “It’s probably your personality, Satoru. Cats can sense these things. And yours is just that bad.”

Suguru smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, Satoru. Maybe it’s because you’re too loud and flashy. Gojonyan prefers a more refined company.”

Satoru's eyebrows shot up in mock offense. "Hey now, I'll have you know my personality is top-notch! It's just that Gojonyan hasn't acquired a taste for the finer things in life yet." He flashed them a playful grin, clearly unfazed by their teasing.

“Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that.” Shoko snickers, biting against her lollipop candy.

“Suguru, defend me here!”

Suguru shrugged nonchalantly. "Can't argue with the truth, can we?" He smirked, his eyes dancing with amusement as he leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying Satoru's playful indignation.

Satoru huffed playfully, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine, fine. But just you wait, Gojonyan will come around eventually. He'll see that I'm not so bad after all."

In the midst of all the tension and seriousness surrounding recent events, the playful banter between Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru provided a welcome reprieve. As laughter filled the room, you felt a weight lifting off your shoulders, if only for a moment. It was a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there could still be moments of lightness and joy.

Satoru feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart in mock indignation. "Watch my words! Gojonyan will be in my hands lovingly! One day!," he retorted with a grin. "Gojonyan just needs to learn to appreciate my finer qualities."

Shoko shook her head, still smiling. "Sure, Satoru. Let that copium enter your lungs. I’m cheering for that cope!”

Suguru's smirk widened as he leaned forward, his gaze meeting yours with a knowing twinkle. "Don't worry, Genmei–senpai. We still like you, even if your taste in friends is questionable."

You rolled your eyes playfully, feeling a sense of warmth and belonging wash over you. Despite the challenges you had faced, you were grateful for moments like these — moments of laughter that reminded you that you were not alone. Not anymore.

You couldn’t help but laugh at their teasing. “I have no idea why Gojonyan doesn’t like you, Satoru. Maybe it’s just one of those things.”

Satoru sighed dramatically, plopping down on the couch with a forlorn expression. “This is tragic. I, the great Gojo Satoru, was defeated by a cat.”

Shoko leaned over and patted his shoulder mockingly. “There, there. Maybe if you try bribing Gojonyan with treats, it’ll come around.”

Satoru perked up at the suggestion, his eyes lighting up with determination. “That’s a great idea, Sho! I’ll win Gojonyan’s affection—”

“So, vote buying—”

“—just you wait.” He stood up, already plotting his next move. Suguru just shook his head. “I’ll get the finest cat treats money can buy.”

Suguru rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. “Good luck with that. Just don’t be too heartbroken if it doesn’t work.”

Despite his efforts, Gojonyan remained indifferent to Satoru’s attempts to win it over. He brought a variety of treats, toys, and even a plush bed, but the cat was unimpressed. It would sniff the offerings disdainfully and then pointedly ignore him, much to everyone’s amusement.

One day, Satoru sat next to you, watching Gojonyan with a wistful expression. “I don’t get it, Gen-senpai. I thought all creatures loved me.”

You smiled, reaching over to pat his hand. “Maybe Gojonyan just needs more time to get used to you. Or maybe it’s just being stubborn.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You know, I think I’m starting to like the challenge. It keeps me on my toes.”

Despite the cat’s continued aloofness, Gojo Satoru’s efforts never wavered. He took it in stride, turning it into a personal mission to win over Gojonyan. It became a running joke among your friends, a source of lighthearted banter.

But he’ll probably never get along with him.

You were right about that assumption.

Ten years of marriage, Gojonyan still hated him.

YOU DIDN'T KNOW WHAT HIS REACTION WOULD BE LIKE. Gojo Satoru returned from his mission late in the evening, his white hair glistening with the remnants of rain. He didn’t get to use infinity as much this time, the creature being more clever than he would have liked. And he was exhausted now. He sighed as he brushed off the thread of rain on his head.

As Satoru stepped through the threshold of your home, the familiar comfort of your shared space wrapped around him like a warm embrace. The weight of his journey, the trials and tribulations he had faced during his time away, seemed to lift from his shoulders in an instant. Home, with you, was where he truly belonged, where the chaos of the outside world faded into insignificance against the backdrop of your love and companionship.

The soft glow of lamplight spilled into the hallway, casting gentle shadows on the walls as Satoru made his way further into the house. Tsumiki and Megumi were likely already fast asleep in their beds, the rhythmic sound of their breathing a comforting background melody to the quiet of the night. But even in their slumber, their presence filled the air, a reminder of the love and warmth that permeated every corner of your home.

And then, there was you. The thought of seeing you again after his prolonged absence filled Satoru with a sense of eager anticipation, a longing that had grown with each passing day spent apart. He could almost feel the ghost of your touch, the warmth of your smile, as he approached the living room where you were likely waiting for him.

The mere thought of being enveloped in your embrace, of feeling your arms around him and your soft breath against his skin, sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine. After being so cold and alone for what felt like an eternity, the prospect of being with you again, of being surrounded by your love and warmth, filled him with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and joy.

With each step closer to you, Satoru's heart beats faster in his chest, his anticipation growing with every passing moment. He couldn't wait to see you, to hold you in his arms and whisper words of love and longing into your ear. For in that moment, with you by his side, he knew that he was home.

The anticipation buzzed through the air as you waited for Satoru's arrival, your heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and nerves. The decision to cut your hair had been a bold one, a symbolic gesture of breaking free from the past and embracing a new chapter of your life with Satoru. Yet, as you watched the seconds tick by, doubts crept in, and you couldn't help but fidget with the hem of your shirt, your fingers tapping anxiously against your thigh.

The sound of the door opening pulled you from your thoughts, and you turned to see Satoru stepping into the room, a bright smile lighting up his face as his eyes met yours. But as his gaze swept over you, his expression faltered ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before being replaced by curiosity.

You held your breath, your pulse quickening with anticipation as you waited for his reaction. Would he like your new look? Would he be disappointed? The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you fought the urge to chew on your lip nervously as you watched him approach.

Satoru stopped in front of you, his bright eyes locked on your face as he took in your appearance. There was a moment of silence between you, the air thick with unspoken tension as you searched his expression for any sign of approval or disapproval.

“Satoru, welcome home!” you began hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. You turned your eyes away slowly. “I, uh…”

He stops at his tracks. “You cut your hair.”

“I... I cut my hair.”

As Satoru turned to behold you, his eyes widened in surprise, taking in the sight of your transformed appearance. For a fleeting moment, he simply stood there, his gaze fixed upon you, as if trying to imprint the image of you with your new hairstyle into his memory. The silence between you stretched, pregnant with anticipation, as he processed the change that had taken place in his absence.

Then, like the breaking dawn after a long night, a slow, warm smile unfurled across his features. It started from the corners of his lips, spreading gradually until his entire face was illuminated with genuine delight. The smile reached his eyes, transforming them into twin pools of warmth and affection as he looked upon you.

In that moment, you could see the flicker of recognition in his gaze, the silent acknowledgment of the courage it must have taken for you to make such a bold decision. But more than that, you could sense the depth of his appreciation, the unspoken admiration for the beauty that radiated from within you, regardless of the length of your hair.

As Gojo Satoru crossed the room to stand before you, his smile remained firmly in place, a beacon of warmth in the quiet space between you. With each step, his love enveloped you like a protective embrace, banishing any lingering doubts or insecurities that may have lingered in the recesses of your mind.

And as he finally reached your side, he gently took your hand in his, his touch a silent reassurance of his unwavering affection. "You look beautiful," he whispered, his voice soft and filled with genuine admiration. "But then again, you always do."

Your heart swelled at his words, warmed by the sincerity in his voice. You met his gaze, finding nothing but love and acceptance reflected back at you. "Thank you," you murmured, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I was nervous about cutting it, but I'm glad you like it."

Satoru squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. "You could shave your head bald and you'd still be the most beautiful person in the world to me," he said earnestly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "It's not about your hair, darling. It's about you, and you're perfect just the way you are."

A surge of warmth flooded through you at his words, dispelling any lingering uncertainty you may have felt. With Satoru by your side, you knew that you were loved unconditionally, flaws and all. And as you stood there, hand in hand, you realized that your decision to cut your hair was not about changing who you were, but rather about embracing your true self, no matter the external appearance.

You nodded, feeling a rush of relief wash over you at his seemingly positive reaction. "Yeah, I wanted a change." you explained, your voice tinged with nervousness. "I hope you like it."

Satoru's smile widened, his fingers trailing along the curve of your jaw as he studied your face. "I love it, darling" he reassured you, his voice filled with sincerity. "It suits you well enough.”

The tension melted away at his words, replaced by a warm glow of happiness that settled in the pit of your stomach. With a grateful smile, you leaned into his touch, savoring the feeling of his hand against your skin..

You blushed, looking away. “I... I wasn’t sure. I’ve never had short hair before. I did it in front of Zenin Manor, to cut ties with them. Now that I’m married to you, I’m free.”

His smile widened, and he gently cupped your face in his hands, tilting your head up so he could look into your eyes. “You’re always beautiful to me, no matter how you wear your hair. But this... this suits you. It’s like you’re stepping into a new chapter of your life.”

Despite his words, you still felt a pang of uncertainty. “Do you really think so? You’re not just saying that?”

“I mean it,” he said firmly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You look stunning, don’t worry about it. You’re free from all of them and it shows.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, a small smile creeping onto your lips. “Thank you, Satoru.”

He held you close for a moment, his embrace warm and comforting. But then he pulled back, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “I have something for you.” he said, reaching into his pocket.

You watched curiously as he pulled out a small box. Opening it, he revealed a pair of blue butterfly hair clips, delicately crafted with intricate details. “I found these on my mission and thought of you. I know you’ve cut your hair, but I thought these might still look nice.”

Your eyes widened in surprise and delight. “Satoru, they’re beautiful!”

He grinned, taking one of the clips and gently securing it in your hair. “I’m glad you like them. They remind me of how you’re spreading your wings now, free and beautiful.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at your reflection, the blue butterflies standing out against your short hair. “Thank you, Satoru. They’re perfect.”

He pulled you into another hug, his arms wrapped tightly around you. “Anything for you.”

To be known, to be seen — it's to be loved. The realization of this truth washed over you, bringing a flood of emotions that you could hardly contain. Happiness, relief, and a profound sense of belonging mingled together in a rush that made your heart race and your eyes well with unshed tears. For the first time, you felt truly like you had found a way to break that cycle — that cursed cycle of loss and heartache that had haunted you for so long.

As Satoru secured the delicate blue butterfly clip in your hair, his touch gentle and reverent, you couldn't hold back the words that had been building inside you. "I love you, Satoru," you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. "I love you."

His bright blue eyes widened in surprise, his usually confident demeanor giving way to a rare moment of vulnerability. This was the first time you had ever expressed your feelings toward him so openly, so unequivocally. For a moment, the world seemed to stand still as he absorbed your words, the significance of them settling deep within him.

"You know," he murmured, his voice soft and filled with awe. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped down your cheek. "You have no idea how much that means to me."

You leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hands against your skin, the solid presence of him grounding you in that moment. "I've never been able to say it before," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I want you to know, you mean everything to me. And I’m grateful to you. For everything.

In Satoru's gaze, there was a depth of emotion that transcended mere words. He looked at you as if you were the sun and the moon, the stars in his night sky, and the very air he breathed. It was a look that spoke of a love that knew no bounds, a love that had weathered countless trials and emerged stronger with each passing day.

In his eyes, you saw unwavering devotion, a commitment to stand by your side through thick and thin, to support you in every endeavor, and to celebrate your victories as if they were his own. It was a look that filled you with a profound sense of gratitude, knowing that you had found someone who loved you unconditionally, flaws and all.

But more than anything, in Gojo Satoru's gaze, you saw acceptance. Acceptance of your past, your present, and your future. He saw you for who you truly were, with all your strengths and weaknesses, and loved you all the more fiercely because of it. It was a look that banished any doubts or insecurities, leaving only a sense of peace and contentment in its wake.

As you returned his gaze, you felt a bond between you that was unbreakable, a connection that transcended the physical realm and touched the very essence of your souls. In that moment, you knew with absolute certainty that you were loved, cherished, and valued beyond measure. And as you basked in the warmth of Satoru's adoring gaze, you felt a profound sense of gratitude for the gift of his love, a gift that you would treasure for all eternity.

You were so lucky in this world.

Suffering may come and go to you.

But you will be loved by him now.

He will always be there to love you.

And you could not ask for anything more.

His smile was radiant, a beacon of light that seemed to chase away the lingering shadows of your past. "I love you too, darling." he said, his voice steady and sure. "More than words can ever express."

In that moment, the bond between you felt stronger than ever, a palpable connection that went beyond mere words. You had found your way out of the darkness, breaking free from the cycle of pain and loss. With Satoru by your side, you knew that you could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if he never wanted to let you go. "We'll create our own future," he whispered into your hair, his breath warm against your ear. "Together, we'll build a life filled with love and happiness. For us, for the kids. Together.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with hope and determination. "Together." you agreed, feeling the truth of that promise settle deep within you. "We'll break the cycle and create something beautiful."

As you stood there in his embrace, the blue butterfly clips shimmering in your hair, you knew that you had finally found a place where you truly belonged. In Satoru's arms, you were home, and together, you would face whatever the future held with unwavering strength and love.

Nothing else mattered to you now.

As long as you have Satoru with you, it’s all good.

As long as you could see the light in his eyes,

As long as you could see that blue spark in them,

Heaven was sure to come through in your life.

epilogue

The moment had finally arrived — the long-awaited introduction between Gojonyan and your son. Your husband Satoru was a bundle of nerves, pacing back and forth as he anxiously awaited Gojonyan's reaction. It was as if he was more nervous about this moment than he was when you gave birth to Satoshi. After all, the cat hadn't exactly warmed up to him in the past, and now they were about to meet the spitting image of Satoru himself.

You watched with amusement as Satoru fussed over his appearance, smoothing down his hair and straightening his clothes as if trying to make a good impression on a disapproving in-law. "Do you think he'll like me this time?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

You chuckled, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "Relax, Satoru. Everything will be fine."

“Look, our son looks exactly like me and I’m scared, okay?”

“Gojo Satoshi is also my son, but alright.”

You couldn't help but laugh at Satoru's admission, his nerves palpable despite his attempt at nonchalance. "I'm sure Gojonyan will see past the resemblance and appreciate you for who you are," you reassured him, trying to ease his anxiety.

Satoru shot you a grateful smile, though the worry still lingered in his eyes. He pouts. "I hope so. I don't think I can handle being rejected by a cat twice."

“My love, it was more than twice.”

“I know, I know – just trying to lower the blow, okay?”

As you both prepared to introduce your son to Gojonyan, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. This moment held so much significance — not just because it marked the beginning of a new chapter in your family's life, but because it symbolized the unbreakable bond that had formed between you, Satoru, and Gojonyan.

With your son cradled in your arms, you approached Gojonyan, who regarded you with his usual air of aloofness. Satoru stood by your side, his nerves evident as he watched the interaction unfold. As if on cue, Gojonyan sauntered into the room, his tail swishing lazily behind him. He regarded Satoru with a curious gaze, then turned his attention to your son, who was cradled in your arms.

Satoru held his breath, waiting for the inevitable hiss or swat of disapproval. But much to your surprise — and relief — Gojonyan's reaction was far from what you expected. Instead of recoiling at the sight of your son, the cat approached him with cautious curiosity, sniffing him delicately before nuzzling against his cheek.

Satoru's eyes widened in disbelief as he watched the scene unfold. "I think... I think he actually likes him," he whispered, his voice tinged with wonder. “Oh my god, he does!”

You couldn't help but smile at the sight, feeling a surge of warmth and happiness wash over you. "Looks like you were worried for nothing, Satoru."

You laugh at the sight, marveling at the unexpected turn of events. "Looks like Gojonyan has a new favorite, though.”

Satoru let out a relieved sigh, his shoulders relaxing as he watched the unlikely bond form between his former nemesis and his beloved son. "I guess you were right," he admitted, a hint of awe in his voice. "Who would've thought that our son would be the one to finally win Gojonyan over?"

“Well, he is quite too cute to ignore.” You grinned at your husband.

As if to confirm Satoru's observation, Gojonyan let out a contented purr, curling up beside your son as if he had known him forever. Satoru's nervousness melted away, replaced by a sense of wonder and joy as he watched the unlikely bond form between his feline nemesis and his beloved son.

Your husband then pauses. "But wait…. Why does he hate me? Satoshi looks exactly like me….”

You grinned at him teasingly. “Maybe it's because he sees you as competition for my love, hm?" you teased, enjoying the playful banter with your husband. "After all, he's used to being the center of attention, and you were always the ‘Gojo' in town stealing his spotlight. Satoshi isn’t doing that, though!”

Satoru's eyes widened in mock realization, a mischievous gleam dancing in them. "Ah, I see. It's a classic case of jealousy, huh?" he remarked, playing along with your playful theory. "Well, I suppose I can't blame him. After all, who wouldn't be envious of someone as charming and handsome as me?"

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a laugh at his exaggerated self-assessment. "Oh, of course, how could I forget?" you replied with a smirk, poking fun at his inflated ego. "But, my love, I think Gojonyan just has his own unique way of showing affection. Maybe he's just a tough critic, and you'll have to work extra hard to win him over."

Satoru grinned at your suggestion, the challenge evident in his eyes. "Challenge accepted," he declared, his determination shining through. "I'll make sure Gojonyan becomes my number one fan."

“Well, ten years is a lot. But what’s another ten more, hm?”

“Yeah, why not!? Ten more years!”

You couldn't help but chuckle at your husband's enthusiasm, admiring his unwavering determination to win over Gojonyan, even if it took years. "Well, they do say patience is a virtue," you replied with a teasing grin, enjoying the playful banter between the two of you. "And who knows, maybe in ten years, you'll have Gojonyan eating out of the palm of your hand."

Satoru's grin widened at your response, his confidence unshaken. "Exactly!" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Besides, what's life without a little challenge, right? And if anyone can charm Gojonyan, it's me."

You nodded in agreement, feeling a surge of affection for your husband as you admired his unwavering optimism and resilience. "That's the spirit," you replied, reaching out to squeeze his hand affectionately. "With your charm and charisma, there's nothing you can't accomplish."

He grins at you. “Well, I am the strongest, after all!”

“You’re so silly.” You shake your head at him, smiling lovingly at him.

“But you love me, hm?”

“Unfortunately, I do.” You hummed teasingly.

He pouts as he slumps against you. “Huh!? What do you mean unfortunately? Does the vows mean nothing now? Darling….”

You couldn't help but laugh at his playful pout, finding his antics endearing as always. "Oh, you know what I mean," you teased, playfully poking his side. "You're just too irresistible for your own good."

Satoru's pout turned into a mock expression of hurt, complete with exaggerated hand gestures. "Ah, the burden of being so incredibly charming!" he lamented dramatically, earning another round of laughter from you.

"But in all seriousness," you said, your tone softening as you gazed into his bright eyes, "I wouldn't have it any other way. You're my partner in crime, my confidant, my best friend. And even on your silliest days, I wouldn't trade you for the world."

His expression softened at your heartfelt words, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Likewise, darling." he replied, reaching out to cup your cheek affectionately. "You're my rock, my anchor. I don't know where I'd be without you."

In that moment, surrounded by love and laughter, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm. And with a playful grin, you leaned in to press a loving kiss to his lips, knowing that your bond was unshakably true as much as your love eternal.

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cookiesupplier · 4 months ago

Text

Catch You When You Fall - Part Eight

pairing: Nicholas Ruffilo & ofc (Catherine)

warnings/tropes: slow burn, angst, murder, mystery, smut, mentions of speciesism, mentions of violence, trauma, mental health, depression, anxiety, sleep terrors, loss of appetite, (potentially more to come)

summary: A new soul has arrived in the Afterlife. While she appears to adjust just like anyone else might in the new environment of the world of life after death, despite the ordeal she experienced with her death. The question is has she really, and can Nicholas help her without crossing lines that he knows he shouldn't?

Authors Note: Unbeta'd, here we go!

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tags: @missduffsblog @tearfallpixie @spicywhenspeaking @sorrowsofsilence @wild-child-7747

@lacktoesandtoddlerants @blackveilomens @valiantroeagleangel @bngurngheart @collapsedglasshouses

@miamore0570 @emmmm127 @sunsshinesunny @dominuslunae @xxkittenkissesxx

@philomenie @dontdiganothergravetoday @anameunmusical

Nicholas was at a loss, he had a caught Cat in his arms, as she stumbled, thinking she had just entirely passed out, only to have her eyes, wide and glassy blinking up at him, maybe she was just woozy? He swallowed as he looked down at her, the way her expression was in a state of shock seeing him out of nowhere, Nicholas could almost imagine what might be going through her head. Either this was a dream, or she could have somehow died and passed through the doors all over again, he’d been there, the question had been asked by souls in the past with surreal moments after they first arrived. Strands of his long dark hair that had escaped where he’d tied it back into a bun at the back of his head had fallen around his face. They brushed along her cheeks before he was helping her stand back up to her feet.

“Are you alright? You almost took quite the fall just then.”

Watching her carefully, even as she stood up, he noticed as she did, she reached out for the railing on her balcony, to grasp it for support, keeping her balance. Was she swaying a little?

“I, I’m fine, I think I just need to sit down a lit-”

Nick frowned in concern a little down a little at her.

“When did you last eat?”

Glancing at his watch, okay, so it was starting to get a bit later in the day, and maybe he would be heading home, and starting to think about dinner soon himself. But seeing her almost pass out like that, it felt a bit off to him. Not to mention her eyes being all glassy right now, honestly he didn’t quite know what it might mean, if it meant anything at all, she could just be tired after starting her job the past two days. Either way, he worried about whatever had caused the effect, and wanted to make sure she was okay before he left her here on her own. It would be different if he knew she had someone staying with her, but she didn’t. That was a thought though, a roommate situation, or even just a buddy program for the newly acquainted to Hell, but roommates would be most useful. Especially in this situation. Just someone checking in on her, who knows how long it would have taken for them to figure out how long it would have taken to realise she had passed out. Some would say it was also the point of Bryce, but he had piles of cases on his books, Nicholas knew that personally, at least, he should, though, plenty of Nicholas’ were actually ones in punishment. Not all of them were viable souls living in Hell.

Nicholas, what was Nicholas doing here. One moment, Cat was moving to head back inside of her apartment because she was starting to feel dizzy, and the next she had his warm, soft but firm arms around her. Swallowing as his eyes, piercing blue eyes as they stared into hers, she was dazed, and she felt sick, she knew why, not that she wanted to admit it when he asked her when she’d last eaten. It was all she could do not to groan. Just his voice, no matter how soft, and gentle he sounded, there was a commanding quality to it, that promised trouble if she dared lie to him, and yet, what could he do to her really?

“I had something this afternoon, when I got home, after work.”

She had, technically, she had the coffee, never mind that most would say that wasn’t technically eating anything, but she had had something at least. Bending the truth a little, not out right breaking it though at least, there was that, her mother hated it when people lied. The thought of upsetting her mother, even if she was not here, she was glad her mother was not here. That dark feeling in the pit of her stomach churned at the thought of her mother being here sooner than she should. Cat shouldn’t be here. She wanted to sob, Cat shouldn’t be here. Swallowing, she took in a deep breath. Blinking back the sting in her eyes as she thought about how she came to be here at all.

“I just, I just need to, need to sit down, maybe I was outside in the sun too long, a rest could help. At least I hope so.”

She knew what would really help, and he was probably right, food, but admitting to that when he was right there, would just be admitting that she likely lied, and she didn’t want to do that. Cat also didn’t want to think about how he had just appeared out of nowhere as he seemed determined to help her inside, his hand so soft, so gentle on her arm, holding her. She presumed to make sure she didn’t fall again.

As she stepped back inside of her apartment, making her way to her sitting area, Nicholas walked with her to her couch, and she moved to sit down with a sigh, just letting herself relax. It would be a bold faced lie to say she didn’t feel a bit weak and dizzy. Without even realising that he had moved, a moment later, something was being pressed into her hand, a cool glass of water. He’d disappeared into her kitchen to get her a glass of water… and she hadn’t even noticed?

“Drink, and we’ll order you something for dinner, you need to eat.”

She’d been about to lift the glass to her lips when she baulked at his soft voice, not wanting to, as much as intended to eat, controlling her own dinner, her own food, that was different.

“No, I have already planned some-”

“You need to eat something, and I’m sorry, as much as you might want to I don’t think you are up to cooking, I’ll order you something, unless you have a preference?”

Staring up at him, the way his voice washed over her, as kind and soothing as he sounded, there was a no-nonsense quality to it that made her want to shrink in her seat,

“I, um, could we get Chinese, noodles, please? They… They are my favourite.”

Her father’s favourite, actually, and they reminded her of him. Seeing the way his eyes glanced up from his phone before he dialled a number he seemed to already know by heart and press it to his ear, starting to order familiar dishes from a Chinese restaurant, and Cat sighed. Enough for two, from the sounds of it, he wasn’t going to leave her, whether because she tried to fight him, or because she’d had her spill. He had invited himself over for dinner. What had she gotten herself into?

Nicholas knew he was digging himself in deeper by each passing moment. Now he was waiting for dinner to arrive, dinner that he’d insisted on ordering. He shouldn’t be here, but he couldn’t just leave her here, on her own, maybe he could call Ellie, see if she would be willing to come stay with her, or Ishtar? However, as he moved to sit across from her in the armchair across from her three seater couch in her living area, he didn’t. He knew he probably should, give him reason to head home, and keep space between them, but he didn’t. There was just something about her, and walking away and leaving her in the hands of someone else, even someone he trusted, felt just as bad, as leaving her alone.

Then again, it wasn’t about feeling bad, he didn’t think.

He just wanted to be here to make sure she was okay, was that so bad?

Yes, Nicholas it was bad, it was terrible. Dammit, no, no, he was fine, it was just dinner, it was just making sure she ate. He was just passing by, and she had a spell, and he was doing his do diligence, and he’d report it to Bryce tomorrow and make sure everything was above board and fine. No one could be sanctioned, not Bryce, and not himself.

“Have you known Ishtar and Ellie long?”

Smiling slightly, small talk time, slightly,

“Somewhat, yes, I was Ellie’s caseworker when she arrived here.”

Seeing the look that crossed her face,

“Like Bryce, I looked after her case and made sure she had her job, her apartment, though Jolly and Folio took care of showing her around for me a lot, cheeky that they are, they’re good friends of mine. Ishtar, I’ve gotten to know more since she started dating Folio.. Who, well, his name is actually Nick, but we call him Folio so it’s less confusing for everyone that way.”

When that made her chuckle slightly, Nicholas couldn’t help but smile a bit more, it was good to hear that, it was nice. She seemed a little bit off kilter the whole time, wary of him, and he wasn’t surprised. Cat didn’t know him, only meeting him yesterday, he turned up here and inviting himself in, even if to help her, but then staying for dinner, it was a lot. He might have a purpose, but he knew it was a lot. A part of him wondered if there wasn’t more to it, if, she wasn’t worried about something else, and that bothered him some.

How much was Bryce paying attention? Had he checked in on her since she started work yesterday morning? Sure, it was only two days, but he would have checked in on Ellie after one day if he hadn’t seen her that very first night at the bar. Yes, he was aware that had been a part of the problem, being too involved, but it had still worked out. Ellie was fine in the end, but he still felt like something was off was Cat, and he just hoped Bryce was not brushing her off.

“Were you Folio’s caseworker too?”

Shaking his head,

“No, and I wasn’t Jolly’s either, Jolly does however work with Folio and Ellie..”

The way she was nodding, he realised Ellie must have mentioned him, at least his name, or Folio, either of them could have, she’d met both.

“I met Folio, through, my adopted brother, Noah, after Folio got his job in the arrival's office with Jolly a long time ago, long before Ellie came to Hell. Ellie and Noah are bonded, much like Folio and Ishtar. Noah is, well, you’ll know him when you meet him, he comes with a,”

Nicholas hummed as he considered the worded to use.

“Well, an entourage. Ellie likes to refer to them as his shadows, so to speak. It's rather ridiculous. You’d think now that he has a bonded that they’d leave him alone, but no, they still follow him around, like being a demon lord has a point.”

Watching Cat’s eyes go wide, oh he shouldn’t have said that part,

“There’s demon lords?”

“Yes, it just means he’s high up in his level of Hell, I promise you, it's not as special as it sounds. It’s actually a whole hell of a lot of work, that only sounds like it is all kinds of fancy and wonderful. It’s really not. Just a great big headache, trust me.”

Cat frowned the way he said that. It sounded like he was speaking from actual experience, not that he was talking about Noah, but that he was talking about himself. Oh, she turned her head when she heard the doorbell, dinner. Their food had arrived. However, when she went to stand to get up so she could answer the door, she got a bit too dizzy for a moment and struggled, whether Nicholas noticed or not, he reached out to stop her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it.”

She swallowed, looking over at him as she collapsed back into her seat, feeling the darkness in the pit of her stomach twist. The hand around her throat tighten again, she couldn’t breathe before Nicholas was standing up and walk towards the door. What, what was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she do the most simple thing? Stand up and walk to the door, it wasn’t that hard. She wasn’t that weak. She wasn’t that tired. She was fine, she was fine. It wasn’t that she wasn’t eating, she’d missed a meal before. Cat had missed breakfast, sure, but it was nothing. She’d done the forty-hour famine, she had a coffee, it kept her going, she was fine, why couldn’t she even stand up without any trouble right then?

Swallowing as Nicholas sat across from her again, setting the bag of food for their dinner on the table, smiling warmly to him, banishing the thought from her mind, not wanting him to know the self-doubt. He didn’t need to know all of that. That was the last thing she needed, a new friend to find out how much was going on inside of her head. She could figure it out, she could, everything was just, a little bit chaotic, all she needed was time to breathe. Surely that was it.

#nicholas ruffilo #nicholas ruffilo x ofc #original female character #original character #demons #bad omens #fanficition #bad omens fanfic #hell au #hell verse #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #bad omens fic #nick ruffilo #nick ruffilo fic #fic: catch you when you fall

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if-mirrormine · 1 year ago

Text

where's my love?

summary: rowan finally manages to work up the courage to tell grayson how she feels about him but when she accidentally overhears a conversation between grayson and kelsey, everything comes crashing down.

pairing: grayson x rowan (f!oc)

word count: 1992

this drabble is for the lovely @falon-fen! she asked for angst in the form of a love confession gone wrong and i went a little overboard but as the resident angst gremlin, who am i to say no? i really hope you enjoy bestie!

also a big shout out to @softfairies for proofreading this for me. ily bestie <3

rowan paces the length of her bedroom, her stomach in knots and anxiety crowding her chest, making it near impossible to breathe normally. gralex watches her curiously from her perch on the bed, her head tilted to the side and following her owner's movements in a way that's almost comical. she'd locked herself and the cat in here almost an hour ago with the intention of building up her courage, but all she's done since then is worry. her feelings for grayson are all she's been able to think about for days, having grown exponentially despite there being no real reason. nothing has changed, she's still rowan and he's still grayson, but there's something distinctly different about their relationship that she can't quite put her finger on. she knows she needs to tell him, and yet she doesn't know if she's willing to risk losing him altogether.

gralex lets out a long, drawn-out meow and rowan stops to look at her pet. "i'm trying, okay!" she says, settling her hands on her hips. "it's really nerve-wracking. what if he doesn't feel the same way?" the cat meows again, dispassionately, and she sighs, burying her face in her hands. "fine, i'm going!" she walks over to the door and wraps her fingers around the handle before stopping to look over her shoulder. "but if it doesn't work out, no more catnip." gralex does nothing but stare at her and she wilts slightly under the intensity in her big, yellow eyes. "i don't mean that," she adds quietly, slipping out of the room before she can talk herself out of it.

grayson's room is just down the hall, only eight steps away from hers. eight simple steps that she’s taken too many times to count, every day throughout this week, in the dead of night when the world is quiet and she feels confident enough to make her move. her confidence typically dwindles by the time she raises a hand to knock on the door and then she chickens out altogether, running back to the safety of her room before she can be caught. but not this time, she tells herself. this time she really is going to do it.

she comes to a stop in front of his room and takes a deep breath to calm her nerves. you can do this, she thinks as she flexes her fingers. the door is slightly ajar, and she can see him through the sliver of space, standing with his back to her and a hand in his hair. she realises then that he’s on the phone and she stops to listen to the conversation. she knows it’s wrong, but she just can’t seem to stop herself.

“there’s something i need to tell you,” he says, clearing his throat and ducking his head to look at his feet. “it’s important.”

rowan wracks her brain as she tries to think of who he might be talking to. besides herself, he doesn’t exactly have friends, and despite all the time he’s spent with kennedy and alex, they’re more her friends than his. she doubts he’d be talking to her mother or callie, and neither of his parents speak english. that only leaves kelsey; the only person he spends just as much time with as he does with her. but despite that, she can’t imagine what he might have to say to her.

“this isn’t easy for me --” he says, sighing as the woman on the other line cuts him off. after a moment, he nods, and rowan waits with bated breath to hear what he has to say. “okay, here goes...” he pauses momentarily and when he speaks next, the words tumble out of his mouth in a rush. “i love you! i’m in love with you, have been for a really, really long time. and i know i should've said something sooner but i've just been so afraid of ruining what we have.”

rowan sucks in a sharp breath, stumbling backwards and she feels as if her heart has just shattered in her chest. of course he’s in love with someone else, with the detective. she'd been an idiot to think she ever stood a chance in comparison, not when the detective is everything she’s not. confident and beautiful, she does and says whatever she wants, not caring what anyone else thinks. it's only natural that grayson would want to be with her instead.

silent tears begin to stream down her face as she rushes back to her bedroom, desperate for the safety that it provides. but as she presses her back against the door, struggling to breath, it feels all wrong. instead of feeling safe and protected, it just feels as though the walls are closing in on her, sucking all the air out of the room and suffocating her. gralex chirps softly at her from the bed and she rushes over to scoop the feline in her arms. cradling her, rowan buries her face in the soft, brown fur and attempts to stop crying. the tears don’t stop however and, in that moment, she realises she can't stay in the apartment any longer.

with gralex still clutched tight in her arms, she bolts out of her room and out the front door, desperately hoping to outrun the heartbreak that threatens to swallow her whole.

grayson stands idly in the middle of his room, his phone pressed to his ear and his free hand on his hip. the silence is almost deafening and as the seconds tick by, he clears his throat. “okay,” he says, his voice clipped. “your turn to say something.”

“i don’t know,” kelsey says and he rolls his eyes at her bored tone. “how do you really feel about rowan?”

“you’re not helping,” he grumbles, shifting on his feet before going to sit on the edge of his bed. he'd only asked the woman to help with finding a way to admit his feelings since she’s the only other person who knew him best, but he’s beginning to regret it now. at this point, it would be easier to just send his best friend an email confessing his love for her instead.

kelsey scoffs, though it’s evident she finds the whole thing amusing. “i’m just teasing you, gray,” she says. “it’s good; you’ve got this.”

“really?” he asks, dubious that the detective truly has that much faith in him. “you don’t think i'm gonna make a big fool of myself?”

“no, grayson,” she says, her tone dry. “honestly, it doesn’t matter what you say, just as long as you say it.”

he sighs again but nods nonetheless. “okay.”

“now go tell her and do not call me again unless it’s to tell me that you two are getting married.”

he laughs at that, letting himself hope for a moment. “might be a little early for a wedding, don’t you think?”

“whatever,” she says and despite not being able to see her, he can tell she’s rolling her eyes. “i mean it though; i’m picking emerson up from her dad’s in twenty minutes so i only want to hear from you if it’s good news.”

“you got it. tell em I said hi.”

after promising to do so, she hangs up and he stares down at his phone as if it holds more power than it really does. kelsey may have boosted his confidence somewhat but that doesn’t make it any less difficult. he's been carrying the fear of losing rowan for sixteen years; there’s no easy way to just put those feelings aside no matter how ready he feels to do so.

but then again, it’s been sixteen years. it’s time to be honest.

he stands tall, his head held high and his shoulders back, and struts out of his room with as much of kelsey's imparted confidence as he can muster. he walks straight towards rowan’s bedroom, knocking on the door before he can convince himself otherwise. he waits patiently, taking calm and measured breaths, but as the seconds tick by, he gets more anxious. when the seconds turn to minutes, he frowns and knocks again only to be met by stony silence.

“rowan?” he calls tentatively as he pushes open the door. the room is empty and he stands in the doorway in confusion. the last he’d seen her was an hour ago, when she rushed in here with gralex like her life depended on it. he hadn’t questioned it then but maybe he should’ve.

stepping back, he calls for her again, louder this time, as he walks through the apartment in search of her. when he finally stops in the living room, neither his best friend nor her cat to be found, his heart begins to race. he’s transported back ten years, reliving his worst nightmare where he lost the only person he’s ever been able to love. he rushes to find his phone and dials her number with shaking hands, praying that she’ll pick up to any god that will listen.

she picks up on the fifth ring, a disheartened “yeah?” filtering through the speaker and grayson breathes a sigh of relief. thank god she’s okay.

“hey,” he says, trying and failing to keep his voice steady. he shuts his eyes and drags a hand down his face. he needs to get it together. “where are you? and gralex?”

rowan takes a deep breath and he frowns at her hesitance, palpable even through the phone. “she’s with me,” she replies eventually. “i just... i went out for a walk.”

“do you know when you’ll be back?” he tries not sound desperate, like he needs her by his side at every waking moment, but it’s difficult not to when it’s the truth. “there’s something i need to talk to you about it.”

she inhales sharply, the sound freezing him in place and causing his worry to return tenfold. “i don’t know, grayson... not for a while.”

her words come out strained, almost as if she’s trying not to cry and grayson feels a fire light inside of him, his heart and lungs consumed by the flames. “what’s wrong?” he asks quickly, his tone pleading and if he weren’t so worried, he might’ve cringed at the sound.

“can we not do this right now?”

don’t say it, he thinks as he squeezes his eyes shut. please don’t say it. “do what, ro?”

something of a strangled sob crackles through the speaker and he feels his chest tighten painfully. “i just don’t want to speak to you right now,” she says through gritted teeth and he sinks down on the couch, his legs no longer willing to support him.

there it is.

“did –” he stops himself when his voice breaks and he clears his throat in hopes that it’ll conceal his hurt feelings. “did i do something wrong?”

she doesn’t answer for a long moment and he can picture the pain in her brown eyes, the quivering of her bottom lip, the tears streaking down her rosy cheeks. and he feels his own eyes start to well up. “i’ll see you later, gray,” she says quietly and there’s no mistaking the shake in her voice. a tell tale sign she’s begun to cry.

he begins to panic again, crying out an urgent “rowan, wait!” but she’s already hung up before he can even finish. he stares at his phone in shock as his emotions well up inside of him, his hurt and his anger and his worry all melting together into something new and indescribable and before he knows what he’s doing, he hurls his phone across the room with a roar.

after a moment, he sinks back down on the couch, his chest heaving and his face wet with tears. and as he sits by himself, the silence weighing heavy on his shoulders, he can’t help but feel like he’s lost her all over again.

#NO ONE LOOK AT ME #ill cry #mm: grayson #mirror mine

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steviewashere · 10 months ago

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Our Love Ain't Compromised

Rating: General CW: Minor Vomiting/Dry Heaving (I have emetophobia so I made sure that it was minor, don't worry.) Tags: Sick Fic, Established Relationship, Married Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Future Fic, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington has Anxiety, Worried Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Sick Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Takes Care of Eddie Munson, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Medical Accuracies (Surprising, I Know, But I Actually Know Somebody Who's Had a Transplant), Mentioned Kidney Transplant

For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is being taken care of when sick/love is taking care of them when they're sick."

💕—————💕

Eddie’s immune system is shot to shit. Has been since March of 1986. When he had awoken after his little stint in the Upside Down, it was to patches of scars, a missing nipple, and a brand new kidney. Turns out, that when alternate dimension bats chew you to bits and pieces and you’re helpless against them, they bite a little further than you could imagine. The ones that attacked his torso took a little more than necessary. Though, it wasn’t what caused him to get a kidney transplant.

No, in fact, he only has a brand new kidney because his body was fighting against the skin grafts and other surgeries. His downstairs business—the bladder and one kidney—were compromised. Luckily, his bladder was able to heal. But the scarring on his left kidney was too severe to come back from.

Hence, one new kidney.

The downside to this transplant, though, came in the form of one prescription drug. The immunosuppressant. A bunch of little capsules that he takes daily; in the morning and at night. And, get this, they’re forever pills. Meaning, they follow him to the day he dies. But knowing his luck, he’ll be up there arguing with God, one palm full of pills, and a glass of water in the other.

Surgeons and doctors told him that the suppressants were going to compromise his immune system. They were going to make him more vulnerable to infections and illnesses. And he’d been mostly careful in his life so far. If he catches a cold, he stays home and rests. If somebody he knows gets sick, he stays far away.

Though, when you’re a grown adult with a husband who works around snotty children all the time, the illnesses come whether you like it or not. It started with Steve getting pretty damn sick, knocked down by the yearly flu season. Which, granted, Steve had received his vaccine—but even then, the strongest still can be K.O’d.

Steve’s sick state is…well, less than ideal. Eddie loves him to bits and pieces, but man is his husband a miserable thing when he gets ill. Like a desperate wet cat in a thunderstorm. Mewling and rolling about and picky to a fault. So, Eddie did the logical thing (admittedly, the dumbest), he took care of Steve. Hand fed him spoonfuls of soup. Draped a washcloth on his heated forehead. Changed out his puke bucket. Ran lukewarm baths and did the laundry and tucked Steve in and kissed his forehead and…ran himself dry.

The karma is Eddie gets sick now.

It’s only a few days after Steve is able to return to work. When he’s been fever free for forty-eight hours, that Eddie gets severely sick.

We’re talking many trips to the bathroom. Heat shivers like nothing else. Sweat stains and chilled bones and clicking teeth. Heavy chest and congested nose and an appetite the size of Rhode Island.

When Steve comes back from work, it’s a Friday, he comes through just in time to hear Eddie dry heave into the toilet for the—give or take—eighth time that day. Did he mention that it’s only four? Has he said that he hasn’t had anything to eat except for toast this morning, some that Steve made before he had to leave? Steve’s class starts at eight. He eats at six.

Immediately, Eddie hears the rush of heavy footsteps clamber down the hallway. Skittering into their bedroom. Practically sliding into the tiled, small bathroom. A hand carefully bunches up his hair, ties it back loosely—just enough so it’s out of the way. And another runs up and down his spine in long stripes. The t-shirt Eddie is wearing gets stuck a few times with the movement of Steve’s hand, due in part to the tacky sweat on his back, and also because Steve moves his hand anxiously. He’s an anxious guy when the people around him aren’t doing too hot.

With his last round of dry heaving, Eddie spits into the toilet bowl, reaches up and clumsily flushes the toilet, and then settles loose on the floor. Collapsed halfway on the toilet’s seat. His butt sat on his folded legs. He sighs.

“Oh, baby,” Steve coos above him. “Baby, why didn’t you say you were sick? I would’ve stayed home with you.”

Eddie’s voice is raspy and exhausted when he speaks. “Didn’t know,” he says, “started after you left.” A chill runs up his arms and he full body shivers with it. “Was gonna call, but I knew you were excited to see your kiddos again.” He shrugs. “I can manage for a few hours.”

“Yeah, but you’re miserable,” Steve relays, as if Eddie wasn’t aware. He’s very much aware. Too aware, actually. But he lets Steve make a fuss. “Okay, uh, okay plan. I’ll run a bath for you and I’ll—I’ll, fuck, I’ll make you that chicken broth that you like. And I can change out our bedding while you relax in the tub and I can—“ He stops to swallow. His hands flap at his side. Steve never does well when Eddie gets sick, he immediately goes high strung and scrambled.

With a weak hand, Eddie reaches out and soothes his palm down Steve’s calve. “Honey,” he whispers, coaxing. Steve’s breath is heavy, yet short. And his eyes are darting when they finally look at Eddie. “Honey,” he repeats. “It doesn’t help me when you get worked up. One step at a time, alright?”

“Right,” Steve mutters shortly, “right, you’re right.” He flutters out of Eddie’s space. Instead, he leaves the room. Eddie hears him shuffling about their bedroom, changing the sheets. And then he retreats back into the hallway, to the linen closet for a towel. (Eddie knows him a little too well some days. Especially on high strung days.) Then, he’s back in the bathroom with new clothes and a towel. Just in time for Eddie to be up off the floor, a cup of mouthwash swirling around his tongue. Steve’s talking a mile a minute when he comes back in. “Okay, so I got clothes and a towel. And my phone is on the charger so that I can call your doctor just in case things get really bad. And I—Honestly, I already texted him and he said to just take a couple tablets of Zofran for the nausea. Also, I checked the fridge while I was putting away my shoes—I forgot to take them off, sorry about the little bit of mud by the door—but I couldn’t find any of the bay leaves for that broth. So, I hope it’s okay that the chicken broth is a little bland. Actually—“

He spits out the mouthwash, holding back his laughter. Eddie’s not sure if the rambling is something Steve picked up from Robin or if it’s something associated with his anxiety. Honestly, if he allows himself to think about it, it’s probably a bit of both. But he watches Steve leave the room again. His mutterings about the space are loud to his ears.

“—God, we have like no seasonings,” is what Eddie picks up on when he exits the bathroom. Steve continues, “And the pot I need is in the sink. I’ll do the dishes and then I’ll make the broth and…Well, no, if I make the broth in the smaller pot, then he can eat while I clean. But what if he needs me while he’s eating? I can’t be in a different room when he needs me. What if he gets sick on the couch while I’m cleaning and I don’t hear him and then he’s too tired to clean himself up and then he’s just sitting there and then—“

“Steve,” Eddie calls from the kitchen entryway. He’s stood still in front of the open pantry door. Hands nervous at his sides. Eddie’s never actually been a witness to the rambling before. It’s usually that Steve stays stuck in place, eyes far away, head full of a thousand thoughts that he needs Eddie’s help to parse through. The thoughts don’t typically all leave his mouth at once, though. It’s a little bit concerning. “Baby, I need you to calm down. How about you draw me a bath? Help me wash my hair, because I think I got a little bit of puke in the ends. And then, we can order Chinese food or something? I’ll just get plain white rice.”

Instead of saying anything, Steve nods. Eyes not exactly far, but still somewhere distant. Yet, he crosses the room anyway. A hand to Eddie’s forehead. The other on his chest. Then, he mutters, “You’re burning up. Let me grab the Tylenol.”

“I already took some, Stevie,” Eddie says. “I just need you to run me a bath, please.” He reaches up for the palm on his chest, squeezes, and holds tight to it as he drags them back to the bathroom. Without much prompt, Eddie slips out of his dirty, sweaty clothes. And with a silent demeanor, unusual for somebody like him, gazes on as Steve patters about—bending over to turn the knob to warm, going to the sink’s cabinet for the bottle of lavender soap, reaching up on the shower shelf for the hair products. And for the first time since Steve got home, he goes completely quiet, now sitting on the lip of the tub, hands out in silent offering for Eddie’s. Which he takes with a soft hold and allows himself to be maneuvered into the water.

He lets Steve pour a cup of water over his hair. A hand settled on the side of his neck. Washcloth on his forehead. Eddie relaxes into Steve’s gentle touches, for once today, the idea of being sick dissipates from his mind.

It’s not even ten minutes into the bath that Steve speaks up again.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

Eddie opens his eyes, not even realizing that he closed them. Steve’s hands just feel that good. “Why are you sorry?” He asks genuinely.

Steve shrugs. “For getting all overbearing and whatever. It’s hard to—“ Sometimes, it’s difficult for Steve to find his words, the emotions. Always has been a bit of a thing for him, but Eddie never minds. In fact, he kind of adores watching Steve work his way through his thoughts, actively seeing in real time as the sensations click for him. “—It’s hard to see you sick. Especially when I know that it’s because of my bug that I had. And, you know, considering the bullshit back in Hawkins.”

“Hey,” Eddie says softly, “don’t say it like it’s exclusively your fault.” He rests his left hand over Steve’s own. His skin is soft under Eddie’s palm. The heat radiating from him is grounding. “I made the decision to help you. And it wasn’t something you just decided to bring home from work. It’s okay. Just the flu,” he tries to reassure.

“But what if you get sicker than I did? Like…So sick that we have to take you to the hospital and then you’re there for several days and the bed is empty of you and I—“

“Stevie,” he cuts in. “Honey, you need to breathe for me, alright? I’m right here. And, yes, I’m sick and miserable. But it’s just the flu. I know what it is, you know what it is.” He takes a deep breath, it mingles with Steve’s own stuttered inhale. “If something happens, we contact my doctor. Remember why I get sick easily, baby. It’s just the suppressants doing their job, nothing else. We’ll be alright.”

Steve nods, going completely quiet. Almost still with it.

“What’s on your mind, baby?” Eddie questions.

“I—Do you even like it when I’m the one taking care of you? Like I get when Wayne does because he’s all calm and collected about it, but.”

Eddie soothes his hand up to Steve’s left forearm. Fingers tapping, waiting for Steve to completely look at him. When they lock eyes, he states firm yet soft, “I love it when you take care of me. You make sure I have and get everything I need. There’s nobody else that I’d rather have here with me.”

“Even when I can’t shut up about what needs to happen? Even when my brain goes a mile a minute because I’m just…scared?”

He nods subtly. “Yeah, sweetheart,” he whisper-rasps. “I feel so loved when you take care of me. Because you actually care. It’s hard for both of us when I get sick, I understand that.”

Steve nods back at him. Teeth sunken into his bottom lip. “Is it weird to say that I love taking care of you? Like it makes me feel useful to help you out?”

“Not weird, just welcomed,” Eddie assures. Because that’s the beautiful truth.

A few moments of silence lull between them. The washcloth goes a little cold against Eddie’s skin and he senses the prickling of shivers mingling under his skin. “Help me out of the tub and just lay with me in bed for now? I’m not hungry yet.” Steve bounces back into action. At the snap of fingers, ready to tend to anything Eddie needs of him.

And when they’re back in bed, Steve’s ruffled feathers finally flattened back to his body and Eddie’s fever dropping a single degree, Eddie is content. He lays on his back with Steve curled on his left side. Their legs tangled with each other. A palm heavy on his t-shirt clad stomach. Eddie’s own toying with Steve’s hair. The shirt is stuck to him from the VapoRub that Steve applied.

It’s warm in their room. Radiator on and lowly humming. Curtains closed so that it’s dark, though lit by Steve’s bedside lamp. Eddie’s got his own bucket settled on the floor, just in case. A sleeve of saltine crackers on his table. Poncho is curled up by his feet, purring incessantly, fur shifting and tickling his soles.

This treatment is one of a million reasons why he adores the man he married. “I love you, Steve. You take good care of me; you should know that,” he mutters into the soothing silence.

Instead of receiving an answer, Steve’s snore is muffled into Eddie’s shoulder. Puffing in warm bursts against his neck. He shifts his hand to press between Steve’s shoulder blades. And smiles a little to himself when Steve shuffles in impossibly closer. He feels like crap, that’s pretty hard to miss. Though, he’s comfortable. Comfortable enough that he can slip into a peaceful, syrupy, boneless sleep.

His immune system is shot to shit. But the love that fills his soul sure isn’t.

💕—————💕

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #sick fic #hurt/comfort #fluff #steddielovemonth #day 21

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songforeddiemunson · 7 months ago

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PSA

I've thought long and hard about whether I should post about this, and I decided I should, if only to help raise awareness. Now that it's been a year, I think I'm ready.

Last year, on Easter Sunday of all days, I found a lump in my right knocker. I won't bore you with the details or the diagnostic hell that I went through (that my cat died in the middle off, fucking hell), but long story short, I was diagnosed with ER+ HER- Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, the most common form of breast cancer.

I had a lumpectomy and sentinel node biopsy on May 1 of last year, and completed a course of prophylactic radiation and am now taking an estrogen blocker called Tamoxifen to reduce the odds of recurrence, which for me, is fortunately very low (around 4% I'm told). Since completing treatment I've struggled a lot with anxiety and PTSD, and have started talk therapy and a low dose of effexor to take the edge off the emotional roller coaster I'm currently dealing with. I still have sleepless nights and rough moments, but I truly am doing very well right now.

My point in posting this is NOT to get sympathy or attention; I'm honestly fine! My purpose is this: I am considered young for cancer and hadn't even had a mammogram yet. I just need all my followers and mutuals with tiddies to know that it is possible to get this at any age, even with no exceptional risk factors. I had no family history of it, I'm relatively fit, and I quit smoking several years ago.

Did you know that 25% of all BC diagnoses are in people under 50?! I sure as hell didn't.

I got lucky. I caught it super early because I check myself regularly. In the shower, while I'm on the couch watching TV, or whenever. Different angles is key. I'm constantly feeling myself up. And I felt something that immediately felt wrong. I wasn't sure I would ever know if something was there, with all the lumps and bumps already present in there, but I knew. It felt hard, like a little stone.

So, I got it taken care of, and now I'm good! But If I can help even one person catch something early, then that would be a wonderful thing.

I truly am fine so I don't want anyone to worry. I posted this to my fandom blog simply because I have a LOT more followers here than on my boring main, and I'd like as many people to see this as possible. I know I'm not the only one in the fandom who has gone through this, so if you're out there and you want to chat, I'm here.

I'm happy to answer any questions you may have; my ask box is always open! Love you all! xx

#tw: cancer #cancer talk #breast cancer awareness #breast cancer #sorry to everyone who might not want to see this #feel free to ignore #ily

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sitp-recs · 1 year ago

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Hi I looooooooooove your rec lists you have helped me through SO much by making it available to read any kind of fic I need at that time!!

I was hoping for any recommendations for angsty & ptsd drarry fics with nightmares and anxiety/ panic attacks. But Draco and Harry help eachother through it and use sex/BDSM as a coping mechanism / to help each other heal. My all time favourite is Scenes of Surrender by Rasborealis, but I've never found anything like it.

Hi there friend, so happy to know you enjoy the recs! Scenes of Surrender is fantastic and while I don’t read a lot of BDSM in general, I do love me some fics exploring mental health issues and sex as a coping mechanism. I hope you enjoy these, btw I haven’t read Freedom to be but from what I’ve heard it might be a good fit :)

Begin As You Mean To Go On by @doubleappled (E, 2.8k)

The first time, it was an accident. The second time, Harry’s going to have to ask.

A Pain of Our Choosing by @lqtraintracks (E, 6k)

It’s 8th year and everyone’s still a bit messed up. Harry and Draco fall into being messed up together.

Wicked Game by Cassiopeias_shadow (E, 20k)

Harry and Draco fall into a spring that allows them to enter into each other’s dreams - but Harry doesn’t quite understand what’s happening, not at first. Why does he keep seeing Draco having kinky sex with a dream version of Harry? And furthermore, why does he like it?

Inside Your Mind by @lazywonderlvnd (E, 36k)

Goyle's taken it upon himself to act as Malfoy's personal, one-man guard and Harry can't help but feel like it's only making the bullying worse.

He Who Must Not Be Normal by lettered (E, 41k)

Potter has fame and fortune and posh clothes and all he wants is a simple life. Draco has a flat and a cat and a steady job and all he wants is a complicated life. Which makes you think this story has something exciting like body-swapping, but it doesn’t.

The Waiting by @oknowkiss and @babooshkart (E, 43k)

It’s been almost ten years since Draco Malfoy disappeared during a routine Curse Breaker training exercise. Harry, his partner in more ways than one, is determined to figure out why. As the past resurfaces and the present fades into confusion, Harry discovers the only thing more unreliable than memory is love.

What Shall Not Be Unearthed by @iero0 (E, 49k)

At the northernmost point of Shetland, surrounded by pointed cliffs, towers the Ootsta Lighthouse on a small isle in the middle of the open sea. Little does Harry know that he's not the only new lighthouse keeper. Draco Malfoy is as obnoxious as he always was, with his posh tone of voice and his luxury yacht jumpers. Harry tries his best to avoid the git—who knows what he's up to anyway?

Chocolate and Pastry by agentmoppet, anemonen (E, 50k)

When Pansy bets Draco that there is no chance he and Harry could carry out a genuine romantic relationship, he and Harry form a plan. But as their fake relationship progresses, Draco sees a side of Harry he never expected. Harry is struggling with something, pushing it far down inside him where he doesn't have to acknowledge its existence.

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (E, 93k)

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography.

#asks #Drarry reclist #ptsd #sex as a coping mechanism

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pastelpeterparkerr · 2 months ago

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Selkie!Elliott Part 4 - The Coat

Elliott tells the farmer about his sealskin coat... and his distrust of humans.

Sorry, I took a LONG hiatus from this but don't worry! I have been on that brainstorming grind! Have a sad one, I guess, cause who doesn't love that hurt/comfort trope

ANGST, past relationship abuse, trauma/venting, general distrust, established relationship, hurt/comfort, fem!farmer, selkie!elliott, elliott x farmer

Similar HCs: Part 3, Part 2, Part 1

Elliott and the farmer have been dating for a few months when this happens.

The farmer had just finished checking the casks in her basement when Elliott called her upstairs

"My love, I have something important to say"

The farmer raises her eyebrow but ultimately is unfazed

Elliott will often start a conversation this way and then talk about their cat or his upcoming novel, but this time is different

He leads her outside, through Pelican Town, and to the beach

"Elliott, where are you taking me?" the farmer giggles.

"[Farmer], this is no laughing matter."

He then opens his cabin and beckons her inside. She sits on his desk chair, curling her lip at the faint smell of rotting wood. Elliott pries off a floorboard and takes out a long sealskin coat that goes below his knees

"Do you know what this is?" he asks anxiously

"Uh... your grandma's old mink?"

Elliott doesn't reward the farmer's joke with a laugh, cementing her own anxiety that she did something wrong

"El, what's wrong?"

"You've never seen me change forms, but I need this coat to do so. It's my seal skin coat, [Farmer]. If it's taken from me, I become trapped in human form," he grimaces, "and eventually, I'll become increasingly desperate to return to the ocean so I'll be driven mad..." the author gulps

The farmer looks horrified and sits in shocked silence for a moment. After a while, she looks down. "Why are you telling me this?"

"It is commonplace for a human to... take their selkie lover's coat to prevent them from returning to the ocean"

Elliott looks so fragile in that moment. The farmer looks up at him and he flinches so she looks back at the floor, wishing to hug him and support him

She finally responds, trying to mask her confusion and hurt, mistaking his fear for blame. "Are you accusing me of wanting to steal your coat?"

"No, my love." Elliott looks like he's racked with guilt for implying such a thing, and the farmer looks less upset

"Well, I don't want to take your things, especially your prized possessions. To have that type of power over another, especially over my most beloved? That's terrible. I don't want to steal your coat from you. Ever."

The farmer continues, softening her tone, "Can you come here?"

Elliott lays the coat on his cabin bed, slowly walking over the creaky floors, his shoulders rigid, betraying his anxiety. He stops in front of the farmer who stands up from his old desk chair. Their gazes lock for a moment

The farmer suddenly pulls Elliott into a large hug. He gasps and hugs her back tightly, tears in his eyes

"I would never do that to anyone, especially not you!"

Elliott freezes, still in her embrace, "My love, it has happened before to me"

The farmer's face twists in a protective anger. "How could they? Are you alright?"

"There was a woman from Zuzu City. She would hate when I was called to the sea. She was so possessive of me and distrusting..." he trails off while the farmer sighs

"I eventually found my coat hidden inside her bedroom's drywall and I fled into the sea. She was one of my first encounters with humanity and ever since I haven't been able to fully trust any human. Although, you make me really want to try..."

The farmer combs her hands through his hair, giving him a sad but understanding look

"Elliott, it's okay. I understand. I know it took a lot of trust in me for you to even show me your coat today. Thank you for telling me."

They sit on his old cabin floor while she holds him in her lap, just trying to show her love for him

As an extra show of trust, Elliott lets the farmer feel his seal skin coat, with a promise that someday when he's ready, he'll even let her try it on

#ill be nicer to them in the next part #i promise #maybe #stardew valley #elliott sdv #elliott stardew #elliot stardew #elliot sdv #sdv #selkie #selkie au #elliott x farmer #fem!farmer #selkie!elliott #stardew bachelors #stardew headcanon #flickers posts #miss flicker has something to keep 5ever

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nepticmancer · 2 months ago

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Head canon time? Now??

- So a big one I’ve had for over a year now is Cygnus being an amputee and being blind in one eye, I saw other people hc recently and I’m very happy to see people on board

- The Space Time Hotel was made by The Traveler’s emotions, this was another one for a while, but I recently started to think that the hotel also being kind of sentient. Like it has emotions and can communicate to only the traveler because it’s also connected to his life and his powers rub off on it

- The Traveler is actually a humanoid star. He has a form where he looks more like a star but prefers his classic Traveler look.

- My biggest hc and the one I’ve had the longest is the Traveler’s Association, surprisingly, The Traveler is not in command despite being who everyone there worships, the association might need its own thing because it’s a bit complex, but the man in charge is actually an OC who only has a design in a jd rp server(the lore there is different from my own because the server combines everyone’s lore)

- The Traveler physically cannot stop Night Swan himself, I have this one because I believe that The Traveler is an amazing man and caring father(Nep lore leading to me being his son is wild), he can’t stop her because when he realized his mistake and went to send her back to earth, he was punished for bringing her in the danceverses in the first place and he was made unable to defeat Night Swan himself(so was Si’ha)

- Kwang and Mothigan are actually half siblings…Just listen to me on this one- So Mothigan is the daughter of countess butterfly and the head traveler(my oc) and Kwang is the son of countess butterfly and Wild West ext, he’s the younger one and does not know anything about his family so he refuses to believe he’s related to any of them(except his dad who’s dead)

- Uptown Funk is a shapeshifter and I named him Simon, he’s also kind of a hitman🧍🏻

- Alex and Lukas are ferret parents, this is a canon thing in the rp server, they have three ferrets, one’s blood thirsty and would like to kill Gabriela

- So I know some people hc Smalltown Boy and Scotty to be the same, but I like to believe that Scotty Smalltown Boy(Tristan which is Angel’s hc name) and Lumen are all brothers, Tristan ran away and Scotty and Lumen were placed in an orphanage and Scotty started going to Eternyx where he then was taken in by Vester

- Mothigan is more moth like without the use of magic, she had moth eyes, actually antennas and four arms, but to fit in she changed her appearance with magic

- The Traveler has some false memories/he has missing memories, the head traveler liked experimenting with memory alteration and mind control, so he would test it out on the traveler which would often cause major confusion anxiety in the traveler and occasionally caused him to lash out because he could feel something was wrong but he could never pin point the issue

- The Nova kitty is a Cheshire Cat like fella, he can do everything the Cheshire can do but he prefers normal cat life because it’s easier to just do nothing

- Kapyy and Hoku are brother and sister who didn’t grow up together(Kapyy lived in Cyberfunk, Hoku lived in WinterHaven, Bo Blu was made to keep her out of trouble but she uncoded and recoded him to help her and be more of a comfort)

- Kapyy REALLY idolizes Cygnus and wants to be an inventor, he knows the whole Cygnus working with Night Swan thing should make him idolize him less, but after their separation, Kapyy started idolizing him more and he would like to one day be Cygnus’ apprentice

- These aren’t hcs but ships I created and love are Diego/Liege Rosal, Aria(Dance All Nite)/Sailor and Stormi(Umbrella)/Seymour(Hey, Ya!)

I have some just dance ocs too who I kind of wanna share a bit about too while we’re here

- I have ocs based on songs from Eurovision, the songs are Europapa, Doomsday Blue, The Code and Rim Tim Tagi Dim, the characters names are Elioson Phyles(he/him), Delilah Blue(they/them), Theo Collins(they/them) and River Dimmit(he/him)

- I have many ocs who’s songs are måneskin songs, my oldest one being Marlena Holloway who is Cygnus’ mother and a former ballerina who quit after experiencing some bad leg issues and losing a competition

- Dami is another jd måneskin oc, his song is L’altra Dimensione, he’s a human who wanted more and turned to the danceverses, I haven’t decided if he has beef with Cygnus yet

- Delilah and River are actually a couple who fall in love after getting separated from Elio and Theo

- My second oldest jd oc is Odette I think, she’s Cygnus’s older sister who’s cause of death is an earthquake in Floworld(she was an exchange student there and opened a bakery after she finished school, Cygnus moved in with her months prior to the earthquake)

- Since I introduced Cygnus’s mom and sister, his dad is named Mathias, he’s just been dead for a long time

- I have other måneskin jd ocs but they don’t have names and I forgot their songs, I think one was for Sh*t Blvd

(I’m a HUGE måneskin fan, feel free to feed my JD fixation or my Må fixation)

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year ago

Text

HERE, KITTY, KITTY (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader

Synopsis: In which you find yourself in the weirdest predicament after you’re scooped up and taken to a cat cafe after you decide to take the streets to fight some crime, and you’re adopted by your very anti-social and hot coworker Aizawa aka Eraserhead.

Story Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY), Swearing, Adult!Reader, Ear and Tail Stroking, Light Degradation, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Multiple Positions, Creampie, Unprotected PIV Sex, Facial, Scent Play, Collaring, Deepthroat, Cunnilingus, Begging, Edgeplay, Power Play, Rope Play/Shibari, Master Kink, Some Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Some Action

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: This took fucking FOREVER to type. Y'all know how much time smut AND action sequences take?? Please be nice to me. -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

Other Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five.

*********

EIGHTEEN.

Aizawa waits for you that night at the opera, and you appear out of the darkness to meet him.

Literally. You’ve been hiding in the shadows of the alleyway across the street for nearly fifteen minutes after shifting out of your cat form.

You watch him now from the alleyway, anxiety mingled with arousal in your body at the sight of him. He looks absolutely scrumptious in his fly-ass black Armani suit, red bottom shoes, and low ponytail as he leans against the wall, one foot up and scanning the streets. He fits right in with the gaudy, wealthy folks that pull up to the theatre in their expensive cars.

You hope to fit in with the crowd too, especially since you’re undercover. You look into the window of the shop you stand beside, the woman reflecting back at you looking nothing like you. She wears a slim red dress that highlights her complexion and gives the illusion of an hourglass shape.

The push-up bra she wears allows her breasts to sit perfectly in the sweetheart bosom of the dress, the rest of it sleeveless. Her braids are pulled back in a carefully-braided French braid that exposes her dangling gold earrings, matching choker, and glamorous makeup–dark eyeshadow; blush; red lipstick.

She made sure to disguise herself as much as possible. She stands tall in her pumps that are hidden under the floor-length skirts that she has to hold up in order to walk.

She looks sexy; alluring; classy. Like an old movie star or a model straight out of the 1950s. And she’s you. Just like that, the fight earlier with Nemuri leaves your mind and all you can think about is tonight.

After taking a deep exhale and saying a quiet pep talk in your head, you take a handful of your dress and strut across the street once it is safe to do so. You don’t stop or pause in fear of changing your mind or letting your anxiety get the best of you. You keep your eyes firmly on Aizawa and your mind on the mission. When Aizawa sees you, his eyes widen an inch. They skate down your body and up and down, taking in every feature of you.

“Wow,” he exhales.

Your heart slows somewhat at the sound of his voice and the astonishment in his gaze. ”Well, that definitely calms my nerves,” you giggle, poking his chest with your clutch. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” Already, you feel the anxiety you felt earlier leave you.

Aizawa goes to say more, possibly something dirty, but stops, his face looking incredibly irked. “Hang on,” he grumbles. He presses against his ear where an earpiece sits, noticeable to only you.

“Yeah?” he curtly asks the person in his ear. “Yeah, I just got here. The show hasn’t started yet, so I don’t think he’s inside yet, but I’ll check.” He takes his fingers off of his ear and tiredly sighs. “Sorry. Damn cops keep buggin’ me about our target.”

That anxiety that comes from reality comes rising back within you. You nearly forgot that you aren’t here for a regular date. “They don’t know I’m here too?” you ask.

“No, but you can talk freely,” Aizawa replies. They can only hear me when I press the button on my earpiece.” He pauses to check his watch, pulling back his suit sleeve to do so. “The show doesn’t start for another twenty minutes so we have time to plan everything. Come on.” He presents you with his elbow and you take it, placing your hand on his arm.

He escorts you towards the cherrywood double doors of the theatre where a line has already formed near the ticket booths. All you see are people in the most expensive of gowns and designer suits, dripping in finery and wealth.

With Aizawa by your side, so calm and collected, you feel as if you could fit in, at least for tonight. You can play the part well if it means completing this mission. When you and Aizawa finally arrive at the booth, you’re all smiles with your back straight and shoulders squared.

“Good evening!” the young man at the booth cheerfully says. “How can I help you?”

“Two tickets, please,” Aizawa replies, barely cracking a smile.

The young man luckily doesn’t take fear as Aizawa pulls his credit card out of his pocket and hands it over to the young man who completes the transaction. “Enjoy the show!” He chirps as he hands Aizawa two tickets. You give him a grateful smile before Aizawa whisks you away towards the theatre.

There are several entrances into the theatre depending on which floor one is on, and each one has people flooding in. You try to get a quick look at each person’s face or demeanor, searching for something that makes you feel slightly off or unnatural.

You don't realize that you are gripping Aizawa’s arm until he visibly winches. You look down, finding your claws digging into his suit jacket and possibly scratching his skin. “I’m so sorry!” you gasp, horrified at yourself. You quickly let go of him and retract your claws, furious at yourself for acting so paranoid.

Aizawa peers down at you, his brows furrowed in concern. “You okay, kitty?” he worriedly murmurs to you. You plaster on a reassuring smile, hoping he doesn't see through you. “I’m fine!” you squeak out. “Just…I’ve never been to an opera before. Or around all these rich folks.”

But that doesn’t fool him for a second. “That ain’t it,” he grumbles, turning around to fully face you. You lower your head in shame, knowing damn well trying to lie was a foolish idea. “You nervous about tonight?” he softly asks. “Y/N, if you don’t want to do this, you know you can–”

“No,” you firmly respond, fixing your eyes up at him. “I’m not leaving. You didn’t have to let me come along tonight, but you did. The least I can do is see this through.”

The worry in Aizawa’s eyes only makes you feel worse. You don’t want to disappoint him or make him feel as if you’re not fit for this, but you also don't want to deceive him any more than you already have. The least you can do is tell him how you feel.

Embarrassment blooms inside of you, making you flush in your pretty gown. “I just don’t wanna fuck up,” you softly confess. “I wanna be good for you.” You feel weak; useless. You wither like a pretty, red flower, feeling oh-so horrible in your dress.

Aizawa suddenly takes your hand and you see an intensity in his charcoal eyes. “Come here,” he demands, already snatching you off to the side. “Where there are no eyes.”

You have no choice but to follow him as he leads you away from the doorway to the theatre and down an empty hall. You’re breathing heavily, your calves aching to catch up with his long strides. “Where are we going, Shouta?” you demand, utterly confused. “What if the villain is here?”

“Even if he is, he won’t attack until the show starts and the lights are off,” he replies, still focused on moving. “It’s called ‘the element of surprise’.”

He suddenly pauses and you nearly crash into him. You watch as he pushes open the door to an empty inclusive bathroom. “In here,” he mutters, holding the door open for you. Though you’re still confused, you tip-toe into the bathroom anyway, your cat eyes adjusting to the dark shapes of the bathroom sinks and stalls.

You turn to Aizawa to ask him what the hell is going on, but the intensity in his eyes has begun to grow and it leaves you silent. He takes off his jacket and hangs it over the sink counter before popping two buttons to his crisp shirt, revealing his strong neck and bobbing Adam’s Apple. “We’ve got seventeen minutes until the show starts, which gives you just enough time to cum all over my face.”

You blink at him, perplexed. What the fuck did he just say? “W-What?” you stammer.

He begins to walk toward you like a predator stalking its prey, causing you to walk backward until you hit the sink counter. He traps you between his arms and the counter, giving you the illusion that you have no place to run or ride. It’s so fucking hot.

“You’re in your head,” he explains, “which will make it a lot harder to go through with this mission. If you’re gonna work with me, kitty, then you need to trust yourself and clear your mind.” He gives you a crooked, lustful smirk. “I’m here for that.”

Before you can protest or even take a breath, he yanks you into his arms and envelopes your mouth in a toe-curling, mind-blowing kiss. As his soft lips move against yours, one hand grips the back of your neck while the other palms at your ass in your dress, squeezing and needing the soft globes of flesh. “Shouta,” you sigh, grappling for his collar.

Aizawa takes that moment to begin kissing your neck and shoulders, his lips touching every single sensitive bit part of you. “Tell me you want this,” he hoarsely tells you as his lips caress every part of your naked skin. “Tell me you want me to clear your head.”

His fingers glide under your dress to slip between your lips, touching your now-aching pussy through your panties. “Yes, Shouta,” you moan. “Please…just please do something!”

You don’t care what he does to you. You just want him to take care of you. Aizawa wastes no time pulling you over to the sink and bending you over, his big hands on your hips. You softly moan as he does so, this dominant side of him turning you on heavily. You press your hands against the cool counter of the sink, your breathing labored and your heart pounding.

You feel his calloused fingers glide up the hem of your gown as he pulls it up over your hips. “Thank God for the slit here,” he growls. “Makes my life a whole lot easier.”

His fingers then loop through the waistband of your panties and pulls them down your shaky legs. He doesn’t waste any time–his wet kisses are immediately planted all over your inner thighs and pussy lips as his hands begin to massage your ass.

You moan at the feeling, biting your lip to avoid getting any louder. The last thing you need is someone coming in here and seeing you…though the thought of it makes you wetter. Aizawa comments on it as his fingers glide over your slit, hissing quietly at the wetness he finds there. “You’re soaked already,” he groans. “What I wouldn’t give to fuck this wet, little pussy right now.”

You whimper at his dirty words and close your eyes, already picturing him fucking you while you’re bent over the sink counter, completely vulnerable and open for him. “But we’ll have time for that later,” Aizawa softly murmurs before his face is planted in your ass and his tongue is gliding along your pussy. He takes his sweet time despite there being a very important mission, his tongue swirling along your clit and your slit.

You moan and grind your hips back into his mouth, your mouth wide open as the pleasure explodes all over you. “Fuck, Sho, baby,” you whine, gripping the counter. “You’re so…so good!”

He moans into your pussy, occupying his tongue in your pussy while his fingers begin to rub soft circles around your clit. His soft touch nearly sends you into orbit.

And though this feeling is good and amazing, it only does so much to curb your anxiety. No matter how good Aizawa’s mouth and fingers are, those intrusive thoughts about tonight come rushing back to you.

Thoughts of whether or not you’ll be good enough; if you’ll be able to keep up with Aizawa; if you’ll end up hurt or possibly dead. They propel you into a dark hole, farther and farther away from the pleasure and tender, loving care you’re receiving now.

“You’re tense,” Aizawa murmurs from behind you. His hand moves to stroke your ass soothingly. “Relax, kitty. I’m here with you.” His hand then moves up your back, stroking it slowly. His fingers feel heavenly. “You don’t have to think about anything but what you’re feeling right now.”

You flush, feeling guilty for your emotions. Here this man is, on his knees on a dirty bathroom floor and working his jaw like it’s his duty, doing everything he can to make you feel better. And yet, you just can't get out of your head.

“I’m sorry,” you weakly say. “I just…I’m just scared.” You inhale and exhale deeply, trying to calm yourself down. “I’m okay,” you whisper. “Please continue. Don’t stop.”

But Aizawa doesn’t touch you. Instead, he stands and you can feel him behind you. “You’re still shaking though,” he comments, his voice deep and blunt.

You flush with embarrassment, hating your body for betraying you. Now he’s going to stop and lecture you for being too insecure in your skills and abilities. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to stop the dam of tears from breaking and flooding behind your eye sockets.

“Turn around,” he orders, firmly but softly. You slowly do so, your eyes still closed. His hand touches your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin. You slowly open your eyes to stare into the worried, charcoal pools staring down at you.

“I wanna do something for you to help, but I need you to be absolutely sure about it before you say yes. I know we’ve only been intimate for a short while, but I think this could help relax your body and your mind.”

You blink at him, confused yet intrigued. “What did you have in mind?” you question. He continues to stroke your cheek, the feeling soothing you already, though he looks almost uncertain about his idea. His lips are drawn into a tight line and he seems like he’s in his own head.

But before you can ask what’s up, he drops his hand from his cheek and takes his suit jacket from the sink. There, he retrieves his scarves and turns to you. Even in the darkness, you feel the intensity of his gaze on you.

“I’m gonna be upfront with you,” he bluntly says. “I’d like to tie your wrists and ankles with these, but only those. Restricting your limbs will help your body relax and your mind would have no choice but to focus on the pleasure because your body can’t move. I’ll only do it with your permission though.”

You silently stare at him for a moment, the gears in your head slowly turning. He wants to what? Your eyes tick down to the scarves hanging loosely from his hands before ticking back up to his waiting eyes.

You clear your throat, flushing. “Uh…you’re into that?” You can’t help but nervously giggle. You never thought Aizawa would be so kinky, but then again, he’s also the same one who groped you in a school elevator.

Though you can’t quite make out his complexion in the darkness, you can tell that he’s blushing by his eyes flicking away from yours. “A little, but I’ve only done it with a few. Not everyone really…gets…what I’m into.”

Your eyes widen. What the fuck else is this man into besides bondage? You suddenly remember him mentioning a collar the night you two had sex for the first time and you blush.

Aizawa takes your silence for discomfort even though your mind is short-circuiting. “If you don’t want to, I completely understand,” he quickly adds. “There’s no pressure. I just want you to clear your head for a while and feel every ounce of pleasure I want to give you because you deserve it.”

You stare into his eyes, searching for any confirmation that he means what he says. He does. You can tell by the way he stares you down, his gaze soft but unyielding. You’ve never done something like this before. It’s way out of your world, especially when it comes to sex.

But the idea of being tied up by Aizawa’s scarves and given a good orgasm arouses you more than you understand. Your pussy clenches and gushes impatiently in your panties, desperate for this fantasy to become a reality.

“Okay,” you decide. “Let’s try it.”

Aizawa’s eyes widen, obviously not thinking you would agree. “But only on one condition.” With a sway in your hips, you sashay up to him, your heels clicking against the tiled floor. You press a hand to his toned stomach and slowly slide it up to his chest, feeling him up. “When you tie me up, I want you to fuck me just like that,” you purr.

The shock on Aizawa’s face immediately fades, replaced with a darker, more intense look. It’s intimidating. It’s sexy. “So I have your permission to do this?” he asks, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble that excites you. You slowly nod.

“And you can revoke that consent at any point during this. Your pleasure and your safety are all that matter to me, and they should be all that matter to you.” He cups your chin in his hand, forcing you to keep his eyes on his. “Am I clear?” he asks.

Though your mind is going blank and your tongue feels dry, you manage to answer: “Yes.” He raises an expectant brow. “Yes what?” he probes.

You swallow your now-dry throat, feeling like you’re in the damn Sahara desert now. “Yes…sir?” you timidly answer though it comes to as a question.

That satisfies him though, a crooked smile crossing his lips. “Good girl,” he chuckles, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Now turn around and face the mirror with your legs together and arms behind your back, one wrist over the other.”

Trembling in excitement, you do as he commands and turn toward the mirror. You watch the woman staring back at you place her hands behind her back and stand with her legs pressed tight together. Aizawa comes up behind her and gently takes one of her wrists into his hand where he begins to wrap his scarf around it. He does the same to the other until both are tied together, stuck behind your back. You flex your hands in your new binds, the restrictions tight but not painful.

“That okay?” he asks, looking up at you for your reactions. “It doesn’t hurt?”

You slowly shake your head. “No,” you answer. “But I can’t move them either.” The grin that stretches across his face is no short of devious. “Good; now we do your ankles.”

He bends down and gives your ankles the same treatment, his fingers working expertly to tie a knot around the back of your ankles that pulls them tightly together. Finally, you’re finished and you feel completely stuck. You can hardly move and even if you try to, you know that you’ll trip due to your feet being restricted. The fact that you’re completely at Aizawa’s mercy makes your heart thump faster in your chest, especially when you feel his hand press on the middle of your back.

That anxiousness twirling in your stomach is replaced with pleasure when you feel Aizawa bend you over the counter and lightly glide his fingers against your cunt. “You’re still so wet,” he growls, arousal deep in his voice. He begins to stroke you there, emitting breathless moans from your lips. You shut your eyes from the feeling, unable to hold yourself together.

You suddenly feel Aizawa at your side, his hot, minty breath fanning your face. “Is this turnin’ you on, kitty?” he teasingly asks, his lips at your ear. “Havin’ nowhere to run or hide because you’re tied up in my scarves? I could do anything I want to you at this point.”

You whimper at his words, already picturing him doing that. He could fuck you in any position he wants; move your body however he sees fit. The more Aizawa plays with your pussy, the harder you can feel him becoming in his pants as he pushes against you, the wetter and more impatient you get. You need him. Now.

“Shouta, please,” you pitifully whine. “Please just fuck me. Please make me forget.”

Sensing your neediness, Aizawa doesn’t waste time unbuckling and unzipping his slacks with one hand. “I’ve got you, baby,” he murmurs, and you feel his cock press against your entrance. He lightly strokes your slit for a few seconds, coating his head in your juices, before he pushes himself inside of your aching, waiting cunt, stretching you out. You gasp at the feeling, your toes curling in your heels and muscles turning to jelly.

Aizawa slowly begins to rock his hips against your ass, creating a symphony of skin slapping against skin. “God, you’re tight!” he grunts. “Keep your thighs pushed together. Keep yourself tight for me.”

You do as he says, clenching your thighs tightly together, causing your pussy walls to clench around his cock. He takes that as his cue to go faster, bumping his hips mercilessly against your ass that bounces and claps against his lower stomach. Every time he thrusts, he strokes another part of your pussy walls that has you seeing stars and glides against the underside of your G-spot.

“God, Shouta!” you gasp. “I can’t…can’t…” Your breath comes out in huffs as he fucks you silly against the sink. It’s too much. He’s just too good. Your mind is now a blank canvas, blinded by the euphoric feeling that Aizawa is serving you on a silver platter. You have no choice but to take it, your restrictions forcing you to.

“Can’t what?” he huffs with laughter from behind you. "Can't take it? You wanted this, right? Wanted me to fuck all of those bad thoughts out of that pretty brain of yours?”

He grabs your hips and rams into you faster, turning your pussy to mush. You can no longer hold back and start to sob and whine, your voice bouncing off the bathroom walls. “Talk to me, kitty,” he demands. “Answer me.”

“Yes!” you sob, nearly crying at the sheer pleasure. “Yes, sir, I need this! I need you!” Aizawa continues to sharply snap his hips, ramming his cock into your pussy again, bringing you to the brink of orgasm with every thrust. You are gone, absolutely “Please keep fucking me like that!” you babble. “Please, please, Master!”

Your eyes pop open, horrified at your words. Aizawa falters for a moment in his thrusts, obviously catching that word too. ‘Oh, no,’ you lament inwardly. ‘Now look what you’ve done, stupid! Now he’s gonna think you’re weird! You’ve ruined every–‘

The self-critical thought is instantly squashed when Aizawa begins to claw at one of your breasts, bringing it out of your dress to fondle as he proceeds to fuck you dumb again. “Say that again,” he hoarsely demands, almost begging you. “Call me that again.”

Your pussy clenches desperately around his cock, your clit swelling as you get closer to that orgasm. “Please, Master!” you beg. “Please make me cum! I’m so, so close…” A string of mewing moans leaves your lips as he speeds up, doing his damnedest to make you both cum.

“Cum all around my cock,” he growls. “Do it right now. Give it all to me, kitty.” As you clamp down around his cock, prepared to do just as he ordered you, he grips your breast and your hip hard enough to draw bruises. “Fuck, I’m cumming!” he grunts. “Gonna cum deep inside this pretty lil’ pussy…”

After a few more earth-shattering thrusts that knock the wind out of you, he grips your body to him for dear life and bursts inside of you with a primal growl that makes you unravel in his arms and scarves. Combined with the feeling of being restricted, his dick gliding over your G-spot, and his warm cum gushing inside of you, you finally cum all over his cock. Your orgasm washes over you in a blissful tsunami that has you curling your toes in your heels and biting your lip to keep from screaming at the top of your lungs.

You are overcome with mind-bending, back-breaking pleasure. And Aizawa. Your senses come alive with every part of him–his scent; his touch; the warmth radiating off of his body.

And for the first time since tonight started, you feel good. You feel so good that you can hardly control your breathing. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as the aftershocks of your orgasm take over your body, making you writhe and buck against the restraints. Aizawa slowly slides out of you and presses his nose to your cheek, nuzzling it.

“Breathe, baby,” he whispers. “Just breathe through it.”

You do as he commands, slowly inhaling and exhaling through your nostrils until the aftershocks fade. Aizawa pulls away enough to let you lean your head back into his chest. You feel spent and sweaty but oh-so satisfied with what just happened. “Thank you,” you mewl softly. “That was amazing. Definitely did the job.”

He chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead. “I am to please. Now let’s get you out of my scarves.”

You feel slightly disappointed when he unties your wrists and ankles. And then you’re shocked at yourself feeling such a way. Did you really enjoy being tied up by him like that? Do you like the idea of being vulnerable and possibly controlled by him?

‘Very,’ you think, and you bite your lip at the naughtiness of it. You never considered yourself that submissive, but something about having Aizawa dominate you yet still takes immense pleasure in your pleasure is totally arousing to you.

After you and Aizawa wash your hands and clean up, you quickly get dressed. You smooth out your gown, check your hair in the mirror to make sure it doesn’t look too fucked-out, and apply fresh lipstick in the mirror. You don’t need anyone questioning where you were. Once finished, you turn to Aizawa who is fully dressed and tucking his scarves into his suit jacket.

He turns to you, his gaze soft and giving you butterflies. “Ready, kitty?” He asks, and the pentane you’ve become so familiar and accustomed to makes your heart soar.

You smile at him as you strut up to him, a newfound confidence in you that can only be given by a good fucking. “Yeah,” you reply with conviction. “Let’s do it.” And off to the opera you go, hand in hand.

No one is around when you two come out of the bathroom, fortunately, so the trip to your seats is smooth. Everyone is already sitting in their seats, the entire place packed. Aizawa lets you enter your aisle first to find your seat before he follows. The seats are under a balcony where others sit above you and though high up, you still get a great view of the stage below.

“The show starts in five,” Aizawa whispers as he sits next to you. “He should be here soon.”

You bite your lip as you begin to scan every seat surrounding you–down, up, left, and right. “What does he look like?” you whisper, eyes still scanning the audience below.

Aizawa does the same, his eyes shifting among the sea of heads. “Look for a man with terrible, scarred skin, green eyes, and long, black hair. Supposedly, he’ll be wearing a black suit and he’ll be here with a woman too, obviously as a cover for a hit tonight.”

You cross your legs and put your hands in your lap, clutching your purse in an effort to relax. “What do you want me to do if I see him?” you ask, unable to calm down.

Aizawa puts his hand in yours, holding it. “Just squeeze my hand twice and I’ll know. You can just be my lookout for now.” He goes back to looking straight ahead at the stage, looking calm and collected, but you can tell he’s alert.

You wonder how you can be like that. How does he stay so calm in such a high-alert situation? You can barely keep still. You’re jumpy; unable to keep from voicing your concerns to Aizawa. “But what if–“

Before you can get the rest of your words out, the lights in the room are dimming, shrouding the audience in darkness, and the crowd is excitedly applauding for the start of the show.

You instantly grip the arm of your chair, your claws sinking into the cushion there and ripping it. You’re reacting as if a villain will pop right out of the stage. Aizawa grips your hand, his thumb running comfortingly across your knuckles. “Relax, honey,” he coos. “Just keep breathin’ for me. You’re doin’ great so far.”

On stage, a spotlight appears, illuminating a woman in a long, black gown and the most beautiful, glossy curls you’ve ever seen. As she opens her mouth to sing, a string section below the stage begins to lay alongside her melody and a big, white moon rises above her in the background.

“It’s not that,” you whisper fearfully. “What if he sees us first and attacks us?”

Aizawa shakes his head. “He wouldn’t do that unless he wants to make a scene. With how low-key he’s been, it wouldn’t make sense for him to do such an irresponsible thing. That would be like painting a target on his back.” He turns back to the stage, paying attention to the singer…or at least acting like it.

You try to do so, but the loud sounds of horns, flutes, and drums coming from the band below make your anxiety reach a crescendo along with the music. You busy yourself with being Aizawa’s trusted lookout and slowly scan the audience to your left. Thanks to your cat eyesight, you can make out each face in the darkness. You check their eyes; their hair; their features.

You see no one that matches Aizawa’s description of the villain or one that looks remotely close to being a threat. You can feel yourself becoming frustrated. How are you supposed to find him in such a big audience? He could be anywhere!

But when your eyes scan up to your left towards the balcony seats, you know you’ve found him. He stands out immediately like a sore thumb. And he might as well be–his skin is terrible, pebbled with healed scars across his cheeks and jaw.

His hair is long and black like Aizawa’s, but not as luscious or sexy. It looks oily and cascades down his shoulders in waves. He wears a dark indigo suit that matches his eyes and the dress of the beautiful woman he sits next to. They sit in their own seats isolated at arm’s length away from the rest of the audience.

While his date doesn't give off the vibe of evil, he certainly does. His appearance makes you weary and the way he sits–back straight and rigidly as if he’s about to get up at any moment–makes you uneasy.

You know for a fact that you’ve found the villain. You waste no time squeezing Aizawa’s hand twice and he immediately turns to you. “See him?” he whispers. You nod, motioning your head to your left where the balcony seats are.

He shifts his body to look, pretending to be whispering to you. You shift your eyes to the left to keep your eyes on the villain and his date. She leans over to whisper something to him, her hand on his knee. He nods and whispers something back, making her grin and slap him on the arm. She then rises from her seat and walks towards the exit behind her.

“Looks like she’s getting up,” Aizawa whispers, already rising from his seat with you. “C’mon before she comes back.”

“What!?” you quietly hiss, shocked that you are already moving in action. What are you supposed to do?

But Aizawa doesn’t explain, instead taking your hand to get you out of your seat. He whispers “excuse me” to your seatmates as you squeeze past them before heading up the steps to one of the exits. With his hand still in yours, he hurries to the next exit on the left where the balcony seats, and your target, are. You see the back of his head and feel those nervous butterflies return.

You turn to Aizawa for comfort but he is busy talking to someone in his earpiece. “Yeah, I see him,” he tells the person in his ear. “I’m approaching the target now for interrogation.”

Your eyes shift to the villain and back to Aizawa who proceeds to creep towards the balcony. You stop him, your hand on his shoulder. “Wait, Shouta,” you protest.

He cocks an eyebrow at you, confused. “He may recognize you and freak. Let me try to get him first before you do.” You know the villain won’t recognize you and if you act right, you would seal the deal on this mission for both you and Aizawa.

The pro looks uncertain and a little afraid. “You sure?” he worriedly asks. You nod, determined to show him that you’re more than capable of doing this. He finally nods, presenting his hand in an “after you” motion toward the villain. “Go get ‘em, baby.”

You grin, wanting to kiss him. ‘I certainly will.’

Slowly, you creep towards the balcony seats, glad that the singing is loud enough that your heels clicking across the floor aren’t heard. You move slowly and methodically, keeping watch of the villain’s head to make sure you're not heard. But he’s too busy staring ahead. Holding your breath, you finally make your way to the seat next to him and sit down, finally exhaling. You try to keep calm and not give yourself away as his cologne hits your nose.

He barely glances your way when you finally settle into his date’s seat. “You’re back,” he says, his voice gritty and low. “That was quick.” You feel his hand move to grip your thigh. You do your best to not claw it off. “I just couldn’t wait to get back here and see your handsome face, darling,” you purr.

You glance at him, watching his scarred face morph into a scowl. He finally turns toward you and his eyes widen in shock. “Who the fuck–“

“Nice outfit, right?” you chuckle deviously, motioning over your red gown. “I did a quick change. And how ‘bout my nails? You like ‘em?” You present your hand to him where your claws jut out of your nails, sharp and glinting in the darkness.

Before the villain can say anything more, he is suddenly yanked back into his seat by his neck where a scarf is wrapped tightly around it from behind. “Say one word or make one move, and I’ll snap your neck,” Aizawa warns, his voice dangerously low. “I’m gonna ask you some questions and I want you to answer them honestly. Maybe then the cops will go easy on you.”

The villain grunts slightly as his breathing is slightly restricted but not enough to choke. “Eraserhead?” he chuckles in disbelief. “They got you?” His indigo eyes shift your way, ticking up and down your face. “Who’s the chick?” he curiously asks.

Aizawa’s fists clench around the scarf wrapped around the villain’s neck, causing him to wheeze. “Her name is Night Claw and she’ll most definitely put those claws to use if you don’t start talking.” You flash your claws at the villain and even grip his knee for good measure, causing his body to tense. “What’s your real name?” Aizawa demands.

“Toyoma Kaneki,” he hoarsely responds. Aizawa nods as if expecting him to say that. You don't doubt that he did. “What are you here for?” he demands. “It can’t just be for a night out to enjoy the singing. You’re here for someone.” Toyoma defiantly grits his teeth and Aizawa tightens his grip, causing Toyoma’s face to turn beet red as he tries to choke down air.

Aizawa finally releases his hold and the villain gasps. “God!” he coughs. “It’s him! Multi-millionaire and politician.” He nods at the bald man wearing glasses sitting several seats below. “Someone paid me to do it, but I wasn’t gonna kill him!”

“How can we believe that?” you scoff. “You have a track record for murder and assault, apparently.”

Toyoma visibly shakes as Aizawa’s tightens his grip again. “I-I just get paid to it!” he stammers. “Plus, these people are bad news too: blackmail; money laundering…I’m doing the streets a favor for takin’ them out.”

“That’s not up for you to decide, Toyoma,” Aizawa lectures, sounding like a father lecturing his son for bad behavior. “So what do you wanna do here?” Toyama continues to stare ahead at his target, a scowl on his face. His shoulders then slump in defeat. “You caught me, I guess,” he sighs, raising his hands. “I know if I do anything, you’ll fuck me up. If the cops are waiting for me outside, just take me to ‘em.”

You and Aizawa instantly share a look of pure confusion. That doesn’t sound right. Before you can question Toyoma if he's serious, the clicking of heels startles you, and your ears perk up high on your head. You and Aizawa turn, finding Toyoma’s standing there in a state of shock.

“What’s going on here?” she demands, squinting at you. “Who are you?” When she sees Aizawa, her eyes just about pop out of her gorgeous skull. “Eraserhead?!” she gasps, loud enough to catch some eyes. Before either of you can speak, Toyoma suddenly sinks into his seat and disappears into the floor like he isn’t made of solid matter. You can hardly believe your eyes.

“Fuck!” Aizawa growls, already racing to the exit past Toyoma's distraught date. You follow him as fast as you can in your heels. As you do, you rapidly search the area for a way downstairs, knowing Toyoma could be on any of the lower floors.

You swear you get blessed when you find a staircase near the elevators. “Shouta, this way!” you shout before quickly venturing down the staircase. Aizawa follows close behind, his dress shoes slapping against the stairs as your heels slam furiously down each step. You know you’ll be feeling this tomorrow.

The staircase is luckily only five floors, leading right down to the final floor: the basement, right behind a door. Though out of breath, you immediately grasp the doorknob and jiggle it, finding it locked. “The door!” you growl, frustrated as you continue to pull and push with no use.

With his hand on your shoulder, Aizawa silently moves you out of the way, keeping you as far from himself and the door as possible. He then raises his left leg and forces the basement door open with one swift kick. The door nearly breaks off its hinges as it slams open, revealing a dank, dark basement with creaky floorboards, cement walls, and dusty tools, stage equipment, and dining tables.

Aizawa carefully walks in first, his movements silent and methodical. Before you enter after him, you unstrap your heels and carry them instead, not wanting to make any unnecessary noise. Walking barefoot allows you the silence you’re looking for. The basement is quiet but not unnervingly so when you follow Aizawa into the room. When the door shuts behind you, it engulfs you in total darkness.

You’ve never been more thankful for your senses than now when your feline sight kicks in, allowing you to see the shapes of different items and Aizawa standing in the middle of the room. “Sense anything?” he asks, his voice hushed and low.

You take a moment to tap into your senses. Though it’s dark, you don’t see anything move; not even the tiniest bug or dust particle. You don’t hear anything despite a show happening several floors above. You also don’t smell something out of the ordinary that isn’t mold or dankness.

You don’t sense…anything. And that frightens you. Toyoma is clearly a very skilled villain which means he knows when to attack and when not to. Aizawa has to keep on his toes. You turn to warn him, but before you can, you suddenly find yourself being kicked hard in the middle of your back and falling chest-first on the floor. You gasp, the wind completely knocked out of your lungs.

“Y/N!” Aizawa shouts, racing to help you but is stopped when Toyoma materializes from the solid floor beneath him and punches him in the face.

Aizawa falters slightly but manages to quickly recover and scoop you up with one arm. Carefully, he carries you away to the other side of the room and lays you on your side. “Y/N, stay down,” he demands. “I’ve got him.” You can’t even protest; you’re in too much pain.

You have no choice but to watch Aizawa as charges at Toyoma, drawing his scarves and immediately targeting them at Toyoma. His attack is done in vain when Toyoma disappears into the floor again.

Aizawa barely has time to look for his opponent when he suddenly appears right behind him from the floor and wrenches an arm around his neck. Toyoma is incredibly fast, you realize. So fast that neither of you can sense him.

Aizawa grunts, his knees buckling as Toyoma locks his arm around his neck. “You should’ve known better than to have followed me down here,” he grunts, working his damnedest to choke Aizawa. “You should’ve let me leave.”

Aizawa gargles and grunts in Toyoma’s deadly hold, his face turning a dark shade of red the more time he goes without breathing.

He’s killing you, you realize with fear flaring in your gut. And if you don’t do something, Aizawa is sure to die.

Thinking quick and concealed by the darkness, you press a hand to your stomach and roll over to the nearest wall where you find an old toolbox. You grab the first thing your eyes land on–a crowbar–and quickly rise to your feet. You run towards Toyoma and quickly hit him over the head with the crowbar, glad for your swiftness and the silence your bare feet allow you.

Toyoma grunts in pain as he falls to his knees, grabbing the back of his head. Aizawa immediately crumbles and begins to cough, gulping down air.

Toyoma glares up at you like you just murdered his entire family. “And you should’ve known better than to have fucked with us,” you growl before bringing the crowbar forward to hit him across the face.

Toyoma quickly sinks into the floor and appears again through a wall, this time on the far left. You’re on him immediately, ignoring the pain in your stomach as you draw your claws and swipe at him. Toyoma backs up with every single swipe of your hands, moving as you do.

You dip low to try and kick him from below, but he one-ups you by grabbing your leg and swinging you around like you weigh absolutely nothing. You shriek as he does, becoming dizzy from the constant whirl. When he finally releases you, you go soaring into the air and quickly twist your body to land on your hands. You then flip backward and land in a squat, your heart pounding and lungs burning.

Toyoma chuckles at your skill. “Your bitch can fight, Eraser,” he spits. “But she’s not gonna stop me. Neither one of you fuckin’ idiots are!” He opens his jacket and Aizawa is on him, quickly charging toward him with his scarves drawn and eyes flashing red.

But before he can stop him, he reaches into his back pocket, pulls out a small canister, and forcefully throws it down. As soon as it hits the floor, the canister explodes into a plume of thick, blinding smoke that has you coughing and your eyes tearing. You find sanctuary on the nearest wall and press your back against it as the smoke gets thicker.

“Y/N!” Aizawa shouts in the smoke. “Where are you?” His voice is loud and clear despite the smoke concealing your sight. He sounds close by, but where is the question.

You begin to try and walk along the wall, keeping your hands on it to give you some balance. “I’m right here!” you call to him, squinting into the thick, gray fog. “The motherfucker was ready, apparently.”

“Stay right here you are,” Aizawa grunts. “I’ll come to you.” You want to ask him how when the fog is too thick, but you stop when you hear something: the honk of cars. It is coming from your left, right where you remember the small window being. Toyoma is escaping. “Wait, I hear him!” you shout. “He’s near the window! He’s getting away!”

“Y/N, wait!” Aizawa warns. “Don’t go anywhere!” But you don’t listen, too pumped up on adrenaline and the fear that this piece of shit will get away for good.

Crouching in the fog, you quickly crawl on all fours, navigating through that way until you feel another solid wall. You trail your hands up until you feel nothing but the cool night breeze on them. The window.

Reaching your hands out, you grasp the window and open it further. Hopefully, the air will clear the fog for Aizawa’s sake.

Quickly, you securely grasp the top of the window ledge and climb through, now squatting in the window. You twist your head to look up, finding a poster for the opera hanging there. You sink your clothes into the fabric and begin to climb up one at a time, grunting as you do.

The farther you climb, the more distant the sounds of the street become, but you don’t look down. If you do, you know you’ll stop. You keep your eyes up, trained on the stars above.

‘Do it for Shouta,’ you think. ‘He needs you.’

When you finally reach the rooftop, you pull yourself up with all of the strength you can muster. Toyoma is there, standing at the ledge with his back to you. When he hears you, he barely spares you a glance. “Don't move,” you demand, your voice low and dangerous. “If you know what’s good for you.”

You can’t help but wonder why Toyoma didn’t just use his quirk to escape. You get your answer when he turns around and reveals the bomb sitting there, attached to dozens of wires. “Do you know what’s good for you, bitch?” he mocks you, an overly cocky smirk on his face. “If you take one step toward me, I’m settin’ this thing off. Consider it my plan B.”

He retracts a device from his jacket–a remote with one single button. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that it’s for the bomb. Fear flows through you like ice was just shot into your veins, making you freeze up.

'So that’s why Toyoma came up here: he’s planning to bomb the theatre.'

He cocks his head to the side, staring you down like you’re nothing more than a child playing dress-up. And you do feel like you’re a child playing dress-up right now. You are now faced with one of the most malicious villains you’ve ever come across.

“I knew one of you stupid heroes would be here undercover tryin’ to stop my mission,” Toyoma spits. “So I improvised. If you even think about comin’ near me, I’ll kill every single person in this building, including you and your man.” His thumb grazes the remote button, making your heart lurch. “Just leave me be and I won’t do it. I’ll even spare your life.”

You know that all he spouts are lies. He may even kill you or worse, Aizawa even if you let him off the hook. Even worse though, he could be telling the truth. If you do as he says, you know it’s only a matter of time until he successfully accomplishes his mission or kills someone else the way he’s been doing so far. But if you decide to attack, he’ll bomb this entire place.

Sweat gathers at the back of your neck as you find yourself caught between decisions. ‘What do I do?’ you think in a panic. ‘What would Shouta do?’

You squeeze your eyes shut as frustrated tears prick at your eyes. You wish you could disappear somehow to take Toyoma by surprise. Maybe shrink down enough to sneak behind him and…wait. A lightbulb flickers in your head and you nearly laugh. ‘That’s it!’

Toyoma continues to stare at you, his thumb hovering tauntingly over the button. “What are you still standin’ there for?” he cackles. “What’s the matter? Cat gotcha tongue?”

You smirk at him, using those lines as the perfect time to shift. The world suddenly gets bigger and Toyoma appears much taller than he is when you shrink down onto all fours, your skin and clothes morphing into fur. Toyoma watches in horror and awe as your limbs shrink, your human ears shift into points, and your hands and feet transform into paws. Whiskers protrude from your cheeks. Your nose is now a snout. Your cat irises shift, directed right at him.

“What the fuck?!” He shouts, nearly dropping the remote. You waste no time rushing towards him on your feline legs and pounce on him, your claws extended and fangs drawn. The shock on his face is absolutely hilarious, even when you drag your set of claws across his cheek and sink your teeth into his nose. “Ow!” he screams, holding his now bleeding face.

As you land perfectly on your feet, you take the remote from his hand and into your mouth. Quickly, you shift back into your human form and slip the remote into your back pocket. Toyoma gives you a deathly stare, ragged claw marks on his cheek, and blood bubbling from the teeth marks in his nose. “That’s for calling’ me a bitch, bitch,” you hiss at him. “And this is for bein’ a dickhead.” You begin to charge at him, prepared to tackle him off of the building.

You don’t count on him suddenly disappearing through the rooftop, stopping you dead in your tracks. You barely have time to look for him when you suddenly feel his hands grip your ankles from below. You shriek, trying to free yourself, but you only lose your balance. You gasp as you find yourself teetering off of the ledge of the building. Quickly, you grip the ledge with both hands, your claws scratching at the stone. “Shit!” You gasp, your heart leaping into your throat.

You scramble to press your feet to the wall but you’re unable to find your footing. You sneak a look down below, finding the city traffic below you. Even if you did manage to land perfectly, you’d be squashed by one of the cars. A whimper leaves your lips as you grip the ledge, desperate to climb back up.

But Toyoma stops you when he appears in your line of vision and gives you a menacing smirk. “Now who’s the bitch?” he chuckles down at you. “That’s all you’re ever gonna be when you splatter all over the pavement for playin’ pretend.”

He kneels down to give a good look at his eyes. “You think don’t see that you’re not a real pro?” he asks, squinting at you. “That I can’t see right through you?” He presses his foot to one of your hands, nearly crushing your fingers. “Now look at you: seconds away from death. Let’s see if cats really do have nine lives.”

“Please!” you beg, but you can’t stop him when he pries your hands off of the ledge. You squeeze your eyes shut and wait to feel your body hitting the ground…but you don’t feel pain or hear the splat of your body hitting the cold pavement below.

What you do feel is something gripping your wrist to stop your fall and hear Toyoma grunting from above you. You open your eyes, finding Aizawa’s scarves wrapped around your wrist and Toyoma’s body, restricting his movement.

“Get the fuck away from her,” Aizawa demands, rage written all across his handsome face and in his eyes that glow pure, deadly red. Toyoma's eyes widen for a moment, obviously feeling the effects of Aizawa’s quirk draining him of his power. “No!” he growls and squeezes his eyes shut behind he sinks through the rooftop once more.

Aizawa isn’t too concerned with that though. He’s way more concerned with getting you up to safety. He begins to pull you up by one of your arms though you’re afraid to let go. “I’ve gotcha,” he grunts. “Grab my hand.”

He reaches his free hand out to you. Though hesitantly, you do so and he yanks you up by both of your wrists. Once you feel your feet touch the ground, your claws retract and your body relaxes though you still tremble.

Aizawa immediately unties his scarf from around your wrist and wraps his arms around you. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. All of the fear and relief you can feel radiating off of his big, hard body pressed against yours in his tight embrace. He is solid, real, and true. Everything that you need to know that you’re okay.

You reach into your back pocket, presenting the remote to him. “I-I got the remote for the bomb,” you softly stammer. "He was planning to bomb this place.”

He silently nods, not even acknowledging it too much. He just continues to squeeze you as if afraid you’ll disappear again. You lean into his chest, allowing yourself to melt into him, even feeling those tears threatening to rise to the surface. He rubs your back soothingly, reassuring you (and possibly himself) that everything is okay now.

But everything isn’t okay. "Goddammit!” you growl frustratedly in his chest. “He got away again.” Tears begin to flow freely down your face now, ruining your makeup. "I almost had him! I almost–“

“Stop,” Aizawa firmly demands, taking hold of your shoulders. “You don’t need to worry about him right now. I knew he was gonna get away anyway. He’s skilled, remember?�� His hand moves to caress your cheek, his thumb wiping away a lone tear.

“But I had him, Shouta!” you shout, feeling so much like a loser. “He was right there! If I would’ve just…” You hang your head in shame. “I’m a failure,” you defeatedly mutter to yourself.

“No, you’re not,” Aizawa growls intensely, his stare firm and almost angered. “I don’t wanna ever hear you say that shit again, do you understand? You’re not a failure, Y/N. You’re strong, intelligent, and a damn great fighter. You’ve shown me tonight and so many other nights that you’re needed by my side.”

He wipes away another lone tear, cupping your face into both of his hands now. ”Don’t ever call yourself a failure, understand?”

Knowing he wants an answer, you defeatedly slump your shoulders. “Yes,” you huff under your breath. His grip on your face tightens.

“What was that?” he firmly asks.

You try to ignore the way your heart leaps at his dominance and the effect it has on you. “Yes…sir,” you hesitantly repeat.

He nods once, pleased with that. He opens his mouth to possibly say more, but his expression morphs into one of irritation and his hand goes to his ear. “Eraser!” a gruff voice yells from the earpiece. “Eraser, come in!”

He sighs, pressing his ear. “I hear you, chief,” he huffs, irritated. “I lost him, unfortunately…yeah, I’ll visit the department later tonight with information on him. Stay put.”

“Do you need me to come with you?” you ask, hoping he’ll say yes and you could be more help to him. You could make up for losing Toyoma.

“No,” he replies, and disappointment blooms inside of you. “You almost got knocked off a building tonight, baby. Go home and rest.” His lips stretch into a thin line which means he definitely doesn't want the backtalk tonight.

But you never listen. “But I–“

“No buts,” he firmly states. “Get home. Now.” His charcoal eyes drill a hole in you, daring you to protest or argue. But you don’t, the exhaustion of tonight being just too much.

You smile up at him despite yourself and fix his tie. “Still so bossy,” you softly giggle. That earns you a smile.

Minutes later after collecting your heels and getting escorted outside by Aizawa, you do go home. But against his wishes and your better judgment, you show up at his door hours later in the night.

You sit and wait for him patiently by the door and once he arrives in his tracksuit hours later, you give him a big greeting, purring and curling your tail around his ankles.

“Hey, you,” he coos.

#shouta aizawa #shoutaaa #smutty smut #my fic shit #my works #here kitty kitty #bnha smut #black coded reader #black fanfic writer #black writers #aizawa x black!reader #shouta aizawa x black!reader

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indigoraysoflight · 5 months ago

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Hiiiii!!! Recently finished TWD and gotta say Carol and Daryl have given me brain rot and have taken up so much space in my head (like all I want is for those two idiots to just declare their undying romantic love for each other and kiss - so that I can get on with my life) Anyway - I am here to say that I love the work you and your friend (Laura, I believe - sorry for not tagging - new to all this) have been doing with the podcast - it has helped me discover new layers of these wonderful characters and see things from a different perspective and to appreciate them more. I have this ritual (especially for s10) where I wait for your podcast updates to rewatch the episodes every week (and oh boy - s10 is already so painful to watch - then combined with all your analysis - I think I just like torturing myself). I love both the characters individually as well. The reason I got to tracking down Caryl enthusiasts on Tumblr and Twitter is because I think you guys just have a deeper understanding of the characters individually as well. The sort of metas I see here breaking down the symbolism and stuff - its phenomenal. Unfortunately I don't think the GA has that depth of awareness about these characters - especially Carol (again just based on my experience of viewing all these reaction videos of YouTubers and reddit posts and all.) Carylers are incredibly perceptive and I am loving it.

Also I recently found out that you are the author of my favorite Caryl fic "Saudade" - The way you have written it to read like an episode on the show - with descriptions of these small minsicule moments between Daryl and Carol (the stolen glances and the yearning...the staring into each other's souls) and also the incorporation and focus on the rest of the characters that feels real - I don't know - just the whole ambiance of the fic feels canon - I just always go back to re-read it whenever I start missing these two too much - and I think I have convinced myself that this is canon now. Hopeful that you will continue the fic.

Also - since I have already overcome my social anxiety to interact this much - I would just like to ask you...

Besides Daryl and Carol coming together and reuniting - what else would you like to see when it comes to Carol's arc particularly? (I think I am really excited for her to interact with new characters and form strong bonds with them - bcoz unfortunately the main show sort of failed to give us a lot of that when it came to Carol - Like I always felt like Daryl got the opportunity to build substantial relationships with a loot of other characters and Carol didn't.)

My Dear Anon!

First of all, oh my goodness, thank you for this beautiful message. I appreciate you very much for taking the time to write this.

Congratulations on acquiring the Caryl brain rot. Yay. It's a lot. Thank you for all your kind words. It makes me happy to hear that you listen to the podcast while watching the episodes. I hope it brings out more value for you on the rewatch. ❤️

Twitter can be an experience 😬 But I appreciate all the meta on Tumblr because people have more room to express their thoughts without any character limit constraints. So I hope you're able to find what you're looking for.

I love Carol and Daryl deeply. I fell in love with Daryl first, but I must admit, I fell for Carol harder — almost like Daryl did. I tumbled down like a wobbly cat and pretended it was the plan all along.

Thoughts on the general audience

The general audience doesn't have the emotional investment the core audience does. They lean on impactful stories with a healthy amount of subtext, which is where a showrunner with a clear vision, love for the characters, and creative freedom can work wonders. The rich subtext appeals to the ride-or-die audience, and the clear story hooks appeal to the GA. And an intricate storyline with a strong emotional core is important for the show's success.

TWD is well recognized even today, but the more missteps they make, the more it affects how word of mouth spreads. You want people to say, "It's a must-watch," not "It's a dying franchise." When GA says the latter, it's time for a reassessment that doesn't lean on recycling stories for fan favourite characters like Carol and Daryl.

The spinoff has a bright future in the right hands because Carol and Daryl have strong roots in the flagship show. A showrunner who can recognize the goldmine on their hands will know precisely how to position and leverage it. We need an emotionally indulgent narrative and explicit storytelling (sprinkled with some badass moments) to move this show into a bright future. They have an in-built audience and can pull more viewers if the cards are played right. I just hope they make the right call.

And by "the right call" I mean I hope they give us a cathartic canon moment for Daryl and Carol. I want it to be explicit, indulgent, and undeniable.

Saudade

You're reading Saudade? 🙈 Aww thank you. I haven't abandoned it, I promise. The podcast takes up a lot of my time so it's difficult to make time for it. But I will continue it and finish it. ❤️ Thanks so much for reading. I tried to make it as canon compliant as possible while maintaining the integrity of the characters involved so you feel like you're watching the show in your mind's eye. So I'm glad you were able to "see" what I was trying to do.

Carol's arc

Many story nodes were left unresolved for Carol. Some are about Daryl, but many link back to losing Sophia. I love the idea of a deep exploration of Carol's psyche. Melissa's creative input helps, but I hope her vision for Carol is allowed to flourish because it will feel disjointed if things change in post-production.

As I've mentioned many times on the podcast, I love the idea of Carol having more female friendships — more friendships in general — so we can see the difference in the way she interacts with her friends and the way she interacts with Daryl.

🥹 Thank you for your courage and vulnerability. I appreciate you very much. Don't be a stranger! My askbox is always open.

I hope this space is kind to you. ❤️

#caryl #melissa mcbride #caryl spinoff #daryl x carol #twd caryl #the book of carol #caryl fic: saudade #caryl discourse #anon ask #answered #9lives2mics

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girl-next-door-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Merry Christmas To All, And To All A Good Night!

Characters: Armitage Hux x reader

Summary: Two years on and some things have definitely changed, but has Hux really given into the Christmas Spirit, or is it simply something else?

Word Count: 1043 words

A/N: Okay, so to be totally honest, I forgot I hadn’t finished this little series, and it wasn’t until a lovely reader left a comment over on AO3 asking about it that I realised I should probably do that. I love these two idiots and almost 2 years on, this feels like a fitting epilogue.

In his mind, he had created the most perfect, the most festive moment possible. The fire was crackling as the light tones of a gentle piano softly filled the air with Christmas carols; a form of Christmas music he had not realised he quite enjoyed before meeting you. The room was illuminated by the firelight and the playful twinkling of the fairy lights which adorned the tree. The scent of pine combined with sugary treats caressed his nostrils each time he inhaled, and his heart felt warm and full as he looked at the pile of gifts beneath the tree. That had been the plan.

In reality, however, the tree he had acquired was too damned big for the room, and bent ominously to the left despite his best efforts. From where he stood, the decorations were… adequate, but he knew for a fact if he took two steps to his right, the whole display looked like a two-year-old had simply thrown things at the tree. The fire was a nightmare to get going and the sleeve of his Christmas sweater now had a small scorch mark to prove it. His attempt at Christmas cookies sat on a plate on the coffee table, burnt around the edges, icing running all over and pooling in places which highlighted the unevenness of his offerings. At least the music was soothing.

“Millicent… don’t you dare.” He glared at the lythe ginger cat who was eyeing the tree once more. The fact he’d had to pry the little maniac out of the branches three times already, causing the gifts beneath the tree to become a little battered, had him narrowing his eyes, preparing to pounce before she had a chance to make it a fourth.

Just as he was stalking towards his troublesome cat, he heard keys in the door, and his whole demeanour changed. A soft smile tugged at his lips, and a feeling of nervousness, which had never quite left him when it came to you, washed over him. Suddenly, he felt very self-conscious. Should he rush to greet you? Should he lean against the fireplace? What should he do with his arms? As he floundered for the right response, you came into view and all that nervous anxiety faded into the background.

“Hello, sweetie. Wow! Looks like you’ve been busy while we were away.”

He simply shrugged, as if this had not been a complete labour of love, taking him the entire week while you had been visiting family. Armitage watched you closely, desperately hoping for your approval.

“What do you think, little one? Did daddy do a good job?” You smiled softly at the six-month-old child in your arms, who seemed rather enamoured with the twinkling tree.

“I’m sorry it isn’t your usual standard…”

“My standard? Oh, you sweet, adorable man, this is absolutely perfect. Thank you.” You crossed over to him and tenderly caressed his cheek before placing a loving kiss to his lips. This was your third Christmas together as a couple, the first as parents, and the effort he had gone to made your heart grow twenty times bigger.

“Well, I wouldn’t say perfect.” He murmured, bending a little to kiss his daughter’s forehead, catching Millicent disappearing beneath the tree out of the corner of his eye.

“Armitage, it is perfect.” You smiled tenderly and he felt that familiar feeling of his world softening around the edges.

As you passed your daughter over to him, you took in all the little details. The mistletoe hanging, and the smattering of tiny holes in the ceiling where it had obviously taken him several attempts to get it to stay up. The lop-sided tree, missing its star because the top branches were crushed against the ceiling. The oddly shaped cookies which possibly should have been snowflakes, but now had the appearance of melted snowmen. Turning your gaze back to your husband, watching him explain the intricacies of tree decoration to your tiny daughter as she reached for the sparkling lights, you really couldn’t describe this as anything but perfect.

“Oh, Millicent! For god’s sake!” Armitage huffed as the ginger menace’s head popped out of the branches, a smug, self-satisfied look on her face as several baubles bounced to the floor, causing you to laugh.

“I take it she has been ‘helping’ you with the tree since you got it?” You smirked as he rolled his eyes.

“She is just lucky I haven’t punted her out of the window yet.” He groused, but there was no real threat there, you both knew Millie was part of the family and he adored her.

“Millicent Hux, get out of that tree.” You said sternly, and the cat slank back, not leaving the tree branches, but at least staying out of sight, so that could be considered a win.

Armitage wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. “I missed you. I know I was working, but…”

But the festive season without you by his side just reminded him of how lonely he had been before you had dragged him into this magical chaos. Every day, he was so grateful that you had seen something in him worth pursuing, something that meant you put up with him at his worst as well as his best. Placing a tender kiss to your forehead, he silently thanked whichever supernatural deity who was responsible for dropping you into his life.

“Oh, I got us all new Christmas jumpers. I’m afraid this one is more colourful than your last.” You smirked as you looked up at your husband with a hint of adoration. This adorable, awkward mess of a man really was the best person you knew, and you enjoyed pulling him out of his comfort zones.

“When you say colourful… please tell me it isn’t neon.” He sighed dramatically, trying to hold back his smile.

“You always assume neon. When has it ever been neon?” You teased, heading over to your bags to find the jumpers.

“One day your mummy will bring me neon, and I will only have myself to blame.” He cooed down at his daughter with a grin. His girls were home, Christmas was fast approaching, all was right in his world once more.

#Armitage Hux #Armitage Hux x reader #gndw fic #something I wrote

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cookiesupplier · 4 months ago

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Catch You When You Fall - Part Seven

pairing: Nicholas Ruffilo & ofc (Catherine)

Authors Note: Anddd we're back, trying to get back into the swing of things, so please bare with me on this story!

To find the others in the Hell AU Universe: Combined Hell-Verse Masterlist

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tags: @missduffsblog @tearfallpixie @spicywhenspeaking @sorrowsofsilence @wild-child-7747

@lacktoesandtoddlerants @blackveilomens @valiantroeagleangel @bngurngheart @collapsedglasshouses

@miamore0570 @emmmm127 @sunsshinesunny @dominuslunae @xxkittenkissesxx

@philomenie @dontdiganothergravetoday @anameunmusical

Nicholas was sitting at was at becoming their semiregular booth at the diner, at least when they came here. He was sitting across from Noah and Jolly, with Folio next to him. Ellie was having lunch with Ishtar again today, and he supposed they might even have it with Cat again, maybe. He wondered how it was going with her garden, if Ishtar had managed to help her start it last night, or if they were going to wait until another day. Nicholas knew it had been late enough in the day by the time he’d dropped off the supplies. It would have been smart to perhaps wait until the weekend. Wait for a day off when it was nice and sunny out, when they could have taken it slow and not rushed the low light, that way not possibly pushed themselves too far.

That was just him, though, after years of watching his mother spend time in her garden, and seeing her enjoy her time planting flowers and tending them in the earth. Perhaps he could talk to Ishtar, ask her if she wanted to talk to his mother for some advice. As much as she had become a close-knit little member of their friend group being bonded to Folio, she hadn’t really spent much time with his Mom, it might be a wonderful thing for that to change. Folio was family after all, he had been welcomed in just as Jolly had, with open arms, like all her wayward strays, and Ishtar fantastic for Folio after all, he was sure that his mother was going to love her. Hell, the moment she found out about her love for nature, and soon to be gardening project with Cat, he was going to be hard-pressed to pry Mama Ruffilo away from her, he could bet on that. She might even want to meet Cat. Oh… well.

Cat, well, he was going to have to be careful there, knowing she was likely to be reincarnating soon, thanks to Bryce’s encouragement, no doubt, and Gavin. It wasn’t a bad thing, it never was, not technically, unless she wasn’t ready. Nicholas wanted to say something, he wanted to, but he knew he shouldn’t. It was a grey area. He could, he could say something to Ishtar, Ellie, they could talk to Cat, but then Gavin could turn on him, and it could get, ugly.

“Hell to Nicholas, come in Nicholas, Helloooo, three two onnnnneeee and theeerrreee he is!”

Pulled from his thoughts, Nicholas shook his head slightly, what, he rolled his eyes as he looked over to his best friend. Dammit Noah, with that shit eating grin, stealing his chips, again, Nicholas turned around and went to stab at his hand with his fork in retaliation. His reaction immediately drawing laughter from the other two and a mock gasp of outrage from the demon in question as he pulled his hand back, having been deprived of his prize fried potato sticks.

“Damn, over reaction much. Ice, man, ice.”

Nicholas just rolled his eyes at that, pulling his fork back and setting it down as he pulled his fries out of reach from Noah and ate some of them himself.

“Well, one day you’ll learn, food thief.”

They all knew better, there was no way that Noah was ever going to learn against the nasty habit of his when it came to stealing food all the time. He just snitched food, and really, why he did it when he could just get his own was ridiculous. You’d think Noah would just order his own fries when they all ordered, it wasn’t like he hadn’t gotten his own burger along with the rest of them, he had. But had he ordered any fries? Of course not, why would he when he could just sit there and steal from the rest of them. Nicholas was almost sure at this point it was a game, just to see how much he could get away with before one of them reacted.

Now he was wondering how many of his fries his best friend, slash adopted brother, had managed to pilfer away from his plate before he had even noticed what he was doing. The devious little sneak, or not so little, as the case may be. He needed to talk to Ellie about this, at least they had her in their corner now, there had to be a plan.

Not that it would change a single thing, and he knew it. Sure enough, Folio snorted in amusement at the situation with a grin, and even Jolly just sat there watching the scene, and smirked slightly before,

“You have to know better than that Nicholas, you have been his friend far longer than both of us combined, lifetimes even. If you haven’t gotten the loyal pet trained by now, what makes you think you’ll ever stop him from peeing on the carpet?”

Noah called him ice, honestly, he had nothing on the jibes from Jolly sometimes, laughter bubbled from him as Folio roared, Noah himself just looking at the man next to him in mock offence. Definitely mocking, he knew was only playing with him,

“I’ll pee on your carpet.”

“Weak, dude, totally two outta ten.. Hey Nicholas, can I have some fries?”

When Folio asked with a hopeful smile, Nicholas looked Noah right in the eye before he slid his tray of fries over in front of Folio, sitting beside him, knowing exactly just how much it would frustrate Noah.

“Sure, go ahead, have as many as you want.”

The affronted gasped that came from his best friend as he gestured to Folio’s shit eating grin as he happily grabbed for a decent amount of the fries was perfection. Oh, Nicholas more than knew that Folio did not actually give two shits about eating that many of his fries at all. It was only about the fact that Nicholas had agreed without any argument, and Noah was making a fuss about it. Nicholas couldn’t say he wasn’t feeling the same, it was all he couldn’t do not to just start laughing at the look on Noah’s face. As it was, Jolly was sitting back in the booth, a lazy smirk on his lips.

“I take that back.”

Noah was glaring at him half-heartedly now.

“You aren’t ice, you are just plain evil.”

The look on Noah’s face was only met with a round of laughter from his friends, not even Nicholas could hold back then when he saw just how disgruntled Noah looked now!

Cat went right home after work today. She couldn’t say today felt easier when it came to work, it was just as crazy, it was just as rushed, and she felt just as chaotic. The anxious panic settled in her chest when the customers kept coming, and the darkness settled like a blanket choking her chest until she didn’t know how to breath as the morning wore on. Folio coming in, and this time he had waited patiently in her line until he got to the front of the line at her counter, and ordered his specific order so she could complete it just as she did yesterday. He was cheeky though and threw her a curveball though and got a bit of a fancy coffee order, which she made just fine, happily so, and Cat handed over with a smile.

It also helped that somehow, after he left, the rush seemed to have ended.. Not that it stopped that the lunch rush came later, but that was always was going to happen. She was just going to have to get used to it, Cat knew that. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was the job that she chose, and after the gentle encouragement from both Ishtar and Folio, she didn’t want to let them down. She didn’t want to let herself down. This was about trying something new, right?

Still, there was a dead weight in her feet when she got home after work, and the thought of eating anything just made her want to be sick. She knew she had to eat, she did, she hadn’t eaten since before she left that morning when she had nibbled down some dry toast for breakfast, which she hadn’t been able to finish. She hadn’t even taken the opportunity to stop for a moment to have that short break before the lunch rush like yesterday. There had been a moment when Ishtar had asked, asked if she’d grabbed a snack and water to keep her going, Cat had assured her she had. While she felt bad telling her that fib, the thought of stomaching anything at all for some reason, just, didn’t sit right with her today.

Now, that she was home, alone in her apartment, glancing around at the empty space, staring at the fridge she knew was full of food that she knew she should make, her stomach twisted. She was hungry, she was, but every time she thought about eating she remembered last night. When she was waking up in the middle of the night empty her stomach with the memories of hands around her throat choking the life out of her. She just needed something, maybe some small would help keep her going, at least until dinner, considering it was later than a normal lunch now, it made sense. So she made herself a coffee, and the hunger pangs eased enough with that enough to ignore the need to eat long enough to glance out of her balcony. At her garden, bare, and waiting for her in the sunlight.

Ishtar had mentioned that maybe, they should wait until the weekend considering they worked most of the day away, and the weekend they would have free to themselves, and Cat had agreed, but now looking out there, she felt nothing but longing. It made her wonder if Ishtar would hate her horribly if she took just a little time to start. Perhaps not everything, she could start with something small, they’d bought some plant boxes for around the edges, she could start with one of those, she could just plant one of those, for her balcony. See how that goes. Yes, she liked that idea, and it would be the perfect distraction, well, no, no, not distraction, she didn’t mean that, it would just be fun.

Once she finished the coffee, Cat rinsed her mug, and went out to the garden where the supplies were.

Nicholas knew he shouldn’t be here, he knew he shouldn’t, but he was sitting in his car, watching Cat like a fucking creeper. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, ever since last night he’d been thinking about her. Knowing Bryce just was going to have her on her way off to reincarnation like she was on some conveyor belt of souls back to the living world, it didn’t sit well with him. It wasn’t his place to stop him, it wasn’t even wrong. It was part of their job to help them reincarnate. Though, it wasn’t, however, wasn’t their job to push them, force them into it. Thing was, no one could prove anything, so, no matter how Nicholas felt about it, until someone reported Bryce or Gavin for pushing reincarnation, no one would even investigate. No one wanted to go against a demon lord. The moment Gavin was raised to that level, Nicholas had known it would cause so many more problems. He’d always been difficult to deal with, and now he was just impossible.

There she was, working on a plant box, filling it with potting mix and seeds of some kind, a small smile on her face. Sitting there, she was just another soul, just another soul that passed him by, he saw them every day, met them all the time. Sure, his friends seemed to be getting attached to this one, and that was going to end in disaster, he knew it, Noah knew it. He’d said as much when they were leaving lunch. Folio had mentioned how Ishtar had talked about Nicholas had helped them yesterday last night, and Noah had glanced his way. Folio had sounded all pleased about Cat working at the café, him helping her to get settled into Hell, joked about how he was doing Nicholas job for him. Noah point out she wasn’t one of Nicholas charges, so, he can’t say anything.. Folio had just laughed, said he’s allowed to be her friend with them after all them, Nicholas had just smiled.

When they left Noah had just shaken his head, he knew as well as Nicholas did Gavin’s reputation and how he encourage his team, hell, the people he had under him all seemed to think the same way. A lot of demons agreed with them. A lot of demons, even the nice ones, didn’t understand Noah bonding with Ellie, Ishtar bonding with Folio. Dating sure, but bonding? That was a level beyond.

Nicholas was just about to leave, it was getting late, he should head home, crap. He’d been here for hours, he had been lost in thought, and such a creeper that he hadn’t noticed just how long he’d been sitting here, thinking… Glancing back over towards Cat’s house, where, where was… Was she stumbling on her balcony by the plant box? She was going to fall down, was she okay? Without thinking, he was out of his car and across the road before walking up the path along her small garden area…

“Cat, Cat, are you okay?”

Jumping the railing of her balcony, just as she lost her footing, and he caught her, dammit, no, no she was not okay.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

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