#but she feels they do not like her weird intensity

[archiebaldo1414]

Picture it with me people

Season 16. Opens with Dean realizing Heaven isn’t good. He’s having these memories of him and Cas through the years and is just like ‘if this was heaven he’d be here’ type shit you know

Supportive Sam and him break out and try to go rescue Sam from the empty. Dean is depressed as hell as always, but he has a purpose now so he’s compartmentalizing, but we continue to see memories. At first, they were all bro-like shit (as much as Destiel ever can be so still romantic lmao) but it starts transferring into stuff we’ve never seen before.

A night in the Dean Cave just them and they keep just looking at each other. [the audience can’t tell if it’s sweet or if they are getting second hand embarrassment since Dean’s fucking 40 and Cas is billions of years old]

A time where Cas heard about the kiss it better thing and fucking DID IT when he cut his hand or some shit. We begin to realize they might have been slightly more aware of things that we were led to believe.

There’s more chill domestic stuff but the kiss it better thing comes up once or twice more. Enough to show us that’s one of their weird little rituals that no one knows about; but ITS A THING!!!

Cas is saved. There’s hugging and intense eye contact. Sam is there. He gets a hug too and suddenly they are having trouble looking at each other. Dean is distraught. He’s fucked up about feelings, he can’t voice this shit! He tried in purgatory but Cas didn’t let him, but now, now he can’t. He keeps trying to talk to him; Cas is sure to remind him he is okay and knows Dean doesn’t feel a certain way.

He’s frustrated. Why is Cas making this so difficult?? How does he have no clue? Surely he’s aware how he acts with Cas is VERY different to how he acts with everyone else/how everyone else acts with him?

It comes to him suddenly when he bangs his hip on the counter. As he swears (loudly) a little voice in his head is saying ‘Cas needs to kiss it better’. And then he knows. Since he was rescued, they’re little rituals have gotten infrequent and awkward. Cas doesn’t want to make Dean uncomfortable after all! He knows now!

Dean runs. Bangs on Sam’s door. Sam opens it, it’s late, he’s annoyed. “What, Dean, why do you look so excited?” He’s doing his bitch face

“Sammy, punch me in the mouth” he prepares himself for the punch, he can hardly stop grinning. He’s practically vibrating with excitement, the freak.

“Dean? What? Why would I punch you?” Sam is perplexed. He’s concerned. He would love to punch Dean (lol)

“I need you to. It’s important, please, Sam”

Eileen hears them and comes to the door as well. Sam explains what’s going on while Dean looks at her and pleads to punch him. She clearly realizes something Sam doesn’t becuase she starts cackling before winding back and punching him. Hard. His lip splits, and he grins around slightly bloody teeth before waving goofily and turning to go while Sam throws up his hands in frustration because What! The! Fuck!

Anyways. Dean marches down the hall. He’s nervous. He knocks. Cas answers. He looks down at Dean’s fucked up bloody mouth and is like Dean! What happened! Who must I kill! And Dean’s like it’s all good man but 😔👉👈it hurts

Cas is all; let me heal you…and Dean’s like OKAY THAT’S FINE WITH ME HA HA

There’s a bit of staring while Cas tries to figure out what’s going on and he slowly raises two fingers before Dean slowly pushes his hand down. He doesn’t let go of the loose grip on his wrist. His hands are shaking a bit. Cas is feeling a little rejected, he can’t even heal Dean now? But Dean is so close, and he’s still holding his wrist? Why is he shaking a bit? What’s go- oh. Oh oh oh oh

Cas very tentatively leans forward and presses tiny little delicate to Deans mouth as he heals him and cdjrjgfjejficsjtjvisjtv

Anyways they kiss a lot yay the end

dean: ow, fuck. i cut my finger.

cas: here, let me kiss it better.

dean, blushing furiously: oh- uh- okay.

[later]

dean: sammy, i need you to punch me in the mouth.

sam, already winding up: done.

[monstersflashlight]

Commission for @sammehshark

Request: dragon x fem reader, where the reader is a knight sworn to protect the dragon who is royalty. does that work??🥺

A/N: Hope you enjoy this!

From fury to fire

Dragon x fem!reader || teasing, hate sex (but not really), oral sex, size kink, overstimulation

Feeling him inside of you, so deep you could feel him in the back of your throat as he pounded into you chanting about how much he liked your human body, you couldn’t avoid thinking about the first time you met and how his feelings about you weren’t exactly of love (or so he said).

His father, the king, just introduced you as the new royal knight, the one who would protect the prince from now on. You knew it was unusual, a human protecting a dragon? Nobody would suspect that, and that’s exactly why they choose you. And because you were the best knight in the royal army, that too, but the surprise factor was the main reason. You would blend in as his servant, as someone there to help him, but not to protect him. And that would make you the best royal knight possible, and the king knew this. But his son wasn’t so keen on the idea.

“How can a human protect me?” He almost spit the word. The way he roared his disapproval made you feel like a bug, but it also ignited such fury inside of you that before you could realize you were walking up to him, so much bigger than you, your eyes blazing with rage.

You pressed your index finger to his scaly chest, not even caring he was your boss AND your prince. Without blinking you told him: “What better than a human,” you mocked his tone, “to protect a dragon? Is somebody going to suspect I’m the best knight in the army?”

He huffed a laugh, smoke coming out of his nose as he did. “You aren’t the best knight in the army,” he mocked, like the idea was stupid in its own.

You knew you shouldn’t. You knew it wasn’t a good idea. You knew you just got hired, and even if you were great, kicking the prince’s ass was probably not a good move. But he laughed at you, and you were beyond annoyed. So you did what you did best: you maneuvered your body around his much bigger one until he had his back to the floor and you were sitting on his chest smiling down at him.

“Well, my lord,” your tone was full of venom, “guess you aren’t better than me.” You couldn’t believe you used to have a crush in the stupid dragon. (And couldn’t believe even less that you still did.)

“Enough you two,” the king roared, a breath of fire leaving his mouth and almost setting the curtains on fire. “She’s going to be your new guard, and you are going to let her,” the king continued, stopping your bickering.

He grunted in annoyance but didn’t say anything else as you got up. You didn’t offer him a helping hand, you didn’t even say anything as he walked out of the room and you followed close. Your job just began, and you already knew it was going to be intense.

The first couple weeks were weird. He didn’t talk to you and you didn’t talk to him, you simply followed close every time he left the palace and he dismissed you as soon as you entered. You didn’t have to do much outside pulling away some of his fans (even though he insisted they weren’t his fans). It was okay, an easy job.

Until one day someone tried to stab him and you saved his life. He grunted as you stopped the attacker and diffused the situation, calling reinforcements to take him away. He seemed tense when you walked back to the palace, as if your presence alone was driving him insane.

“You should quit,” he stated as you walked him to his room, your body still thrumming with adrenaline and pent up tension after the incident.

You registered his words a second later, grunting a very loud: “No.” You just saved his life and he was acting like you were still a bug, and it started to make you angry. Adrenaline and anger didn’t mix well with your impulsive self.

You arrived at his door, and he turned around to look at you, his face impassible as he asked: “Why are you so infuriating? Why aren’t you scared of me even? I’m twice your size and you are standing there as if I was normal.” He sounded almost annoyed.

“I have loyalty to the crown, my lord,” you told him. His title left your mouth like a dart, leaving him speechless for a second.

You tried not to refer to him as my lord after he specified, you couldn’t, but you had enough. You were mad at him, and high on adrenaline, and he was being a dickhead. You protected him, he could have died, and instead of being concerned he was attacking you for doing your job. For protecting him.

You could see the muscle in his scaly jaw twitch. “Stop that.”

You couldn’t hold yourself back from teasing him more, wanting to get a rise out of him, wanting him to be as mad as you were. As desperate. “What do you mean, my lord?” You played dumb.

“Stop acting all proper and shit. Stop referring to me like that. I don’t like it.” You already knew that, but your anger blinded your brain.

“What do you like then, my lord?” Your voice was filled with amusement and teasing.

“You,” he answered simply, leaving you speechless.

Your brain short-circuited and all the anger inside of you disappeared, confusion overpowering any other emotion you could have. “Wh-what? I thought you didn’t like humans like me.” You cursed yourself, your words sounded stupid out loud.

He laughed bitterly, his claws grabbing your arms and getting you closer to the heat of his big body. “You were wrong. I like humans like you a little bit too much.” There was something in his tone you couldn’t decipher.

“What does that mean?”

He looked at you like you were stupid, and you almost felt like it at the moment. “You think I haven’t been dying to taste you since you knocked me on my ass? You think it hasn’t been driving me crazy to see you all proper and ready to fight for me every time we leave the house? You are wrong, little knight.” And then he claimed your mouth, his big wings coming around your body, cradling you into the tightest and warmest embrace of your life as he devoured your mouth like a starving dragon.

You give back as much as he was giving you, kissing him senseless as you moaned against his mouth. His hands found your middle and he urged you up, your legs wrapping around his middle as he walked backwards into the room, closing the door behind you.

And then his claws were everywhere, groping your ass, touching every inch of your body as you shivered and moaned. The kisses became frantic as you ground against the hard on you could feel against your hot center. He playfully bite down onto your lower lip with his fangs and you let out such a loud moan that he chuckled, pulling away and looking at you like he just saw you for the first time.

He kissed the tip of your nose in the most tender gesture ever, making your heart beat faster and faster. He walked to the bed, laying you down so carefully you felt like a treasure. “You are going to be a good little knight for me now? Are you going to let me give you what you deserve?” His tone was teasing, but there was an edge of intensity there that made you shiver.

“And what is that?” You asked, out of breath after such intense make out session.

“To be worshiped.”

He launched at you, tearing down your clothes and his own, getting you naked in less than a minute. His hands found your legs as he pulled them apart, burying his face in your dripping pussy. He ate you out desperately, his way too long tongue hitting every pleasure point in and out of you, his movements frantic as you moaned. Your hands tried to find some kind of grab in his head, but the smoothness of his scales didn’t allow you to. You ended up grabbing onto the sheets as you cried out his name in an earth shattering orgasm.

You had never come so fast and so hard, but he wasn’t done with you. He positioned himself over you, his big body towering over you like a god. You looked at his scaled dick with concern. “I don’t know if that will fit,” you warned him.

“It will, my little knight, you were made for me,” the tone of his voice left no room for arguing and it made your heart skip a beat.

He started slow, pressing inside of you little by little. He felt so big, so wide, you were about to be split apart. But in a good way. In the best way. He was panting over you, his wings twitching as he tried to be as slow as possible as he kept going and going… and going. By the time he bottomed out you were squirming underneath him, your mouth closing around his hand next to your ear. You bite down hard, making him curse and bulk against you, the movement making both of you groan.

And that was it. It was all it took for him to lose himself on you completely. He roared and started a frantic pace, each thrust making you scream his name as he pounded into your aching core. The scales of his dick felt smooth and soft inside of you, stimulating your G-spot until you were trembling under him with another orgasm.

He didn’t stop. He kept fucking you as you groaned and moaned, the universe fading into the background as he drove you to another dimension filled with pleasure and an incredibly hot dragon fucking you.

You came at least three more times before he looked up and roared his climax, fire leaving his mouth as he burned part of the ceiling as you giggled under him. His erratic movements making you see stars, but your body was too spent to come again.

He filled you to the brim and pulled back, staring at the point where his come was leaking out of your overused pussy. He smirked, his claw pushing the come back inside over and over as you whimpered in oversensitivity.

“My little knight wasn’t as fierce in bed as she’s in combat, are you?” He teased, kissing your soft tummy with reverence.

“You are so cocky…” You caressed the top of his scaly head, and he purred in delight, making you smile down at him.

“And you like it,” he stated, and you couldn’t deny that. “And I like you,” he said with another kiss to your hip, tickling you at the same time.

After that day everything got better. Knowing he didn’t hate you, but he was head over heels for you made it simpler (and complicated at the same time). But you two made it work. You took care of him outside the castle… and he made sure to take care of you inside it.

[wisecura]

Sheets

megumi fushiguro x fem-reader

p.1

p.5  ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.7

p.6

AN: Have you eaten yet? this guys an angsy lil shit

warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build.

the talk

When Toji came home, Megumi’s protectiveness magnified tenfold.

His usual quiet demeanor gave way to something more intense, almost territorial. Without realizing it, he’d position himself between you and his father, his sharp eyes narrowing every time Toji stood too close or made an offhand remark. It was subtle at first, but it grew harder to ignore.

“Why’re you standing so close to her like that?” Megumi’s voice would cut through the air, low and firm, laced with thinly veiled disdain.

Toji, never one to miss an opportunity to provoke, smirked. “Relax, kid. She’s my wife, you know.”

That word—wife—hit Megumi like a sucker punch, sending something bitter and ugly twisting inside him. He hated it. Hated the way Toji said it with that smug tone, as if it were a brand.

Hated the way you responded so nonchalantly, as though it didn’t faze you at all. Toji calling you wife felt deliberate, like his father was staking a claim on something Megumi didn’t fully understand—but desperately wanted for himself.

It set his teeth on edge, made his chest tight with emotions he couldn’t name—most definitely couldn’t ignore. The feeling so abstract, something that had been building up in the months spent at your side. Learning everything he could about you.

“It’s not like it’s real,” Megumi snapped suddenly, his fists clenched at his sides, his voice harsher than he intended. “She’s just your arranged wife. Stop acting like it’s anything more than that. She doesn’t even want you that close in the first place. You’re making her uncomfortable.”

The room went still, a suffocating tension settling between the three of you. Even you froze, caught off guard by the venom in Megumi’s tone. Toji’s smirk faltered slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied his son.

You braced yourself, worried another fight might erupt to completely sour the evening.

But then something shifted. Toji seemed to catch onto something—something even you hadn’t fully noticed. You've caught yourself a little lovesick puppy. His laugh came low and mocking. And his signature smirk returned, sharper than before, as he leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms.

“Man, you’re so protective,” he drawled, his tone dripping with condescension, every word a deliberate jab. “You do know I’m the reason she’s here in the first place, right? Gotta admit, it’s kinda weird, though—acting all territorial over your mom.’” He practically spat the word mom—a taunt rather than anything sincere. Megumi was sure to not bring it up around him. So why the hell was he hurling it like an insult?

And yet the jab had hit Megumi harder than he expected—not because it was wrong, but because of how wrong it felt coming from Toji.

So what if he had called you “Mom”. He'd always said it quietly, in moments where it felt safe, where he knew he wouldn’t be called out for it.

So what if he liked how you smiled when you heard it, the warmth in your voice when you responded, the way your gaze lingered on him like he was the most important person in the room. In the world. It had made him feel... secure, like you wouldn’t leave him no matter what.

But hearing it from Toji’s mouth, laced with mockery, made it feel almost...invasive. Like he was twisting it into some kind of fucked up joke.

It boiled under his skin, consuming and unbearable, a flame that refused to die out. Why did it piss him off so much? Why did it matter what Toji said? And why did it feel like Toji was seeing right through him—exposing the feelings that even Megumi himself didn’t fully understand? And right in front of you—

“Shut up! She’s not my mom,” Megumi hissed back, much sharper than he intended, unable to keep the vitriol out of his tone. He didn’t even know why he felt the need to clarify, why those words spilled out like a defense.

But the moment they left his lips, guilt crashed over him like a wave. His gaze darted to you instinctively, catching the flicker of hurt in your eyes before you quickly masked it—taking a deep breath. His chest tightened painfully, shame coiling in his gut.

He hated that he’d made you feel that way, hated that he’d let Toji push him into lashing out. He wanted to say something to fix it, to reassure you, but the words stuck in his throat, refusing to come.

You sighed, stepping in before the tension could spiral further out of control. Toji’s taunt had struck a nerve in you as well. His oh-so casual reminder of your arranged marriage—of why you were here, bound by duty more than choice—felt like a veiled warning, a way to keep you grounded in your place. It stirred something uncomfortable in your chest, but you pushed it aside.

This wasn’t about you.

Right now, it was about defusing the storm brewing in the room.

“Alright, that’s enough,” you said firmly, your gaze cutting to Toji with a sharpness that immediately silenced his smirk. Surprisingly, he left little fight for when you bothered to step into their fights.

“Toji, stop teasing him.” You turned to Megumi, your expression softening, your tone gentler but no less resolute.

“And Megumi…” You paused, a voice with such warmth you reserved for him. “Toji is my husband. It’d be weirder if he avoided me. But I’m here for both of you, okay? Not just him, not just you. Both of you. We’re family. So let’s try to get along, yeah?”

Megumi didn’t respond immediately, his jaw clenching as he stared at the floor, his emotions a tangled mess he couldn’t even begin to unravel. 

Family. 

He despises that word, loathes the way it forced Toji into something that, in his mind, should have been just you and him.

The warmth in your voice, the way you said it with such sincerity, made his chest tighten painfully. It stirred something deeper than anger or frustration—something vulnerable and raw that he didn’t know how to name. Disgust. Jealousy. Delirium.

Before Megumi could even begin to piece together the scattered fragments cutting him mind, you gently shooed both of them out of the kitchen.

Your calm words was firm, your smile soft but unyielding as you set the boundary. Pushing him by his shoulders towards the doorway. “Go, Megumi. Relax for once, okay? I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

He wanted to argue—he always helped with dinner—but the way you smiled at him left him unable to make an excuse. He didn’t want to upset you. Didn’t want you to hate him.

Reluctantly, he left, the loss of your presence settling over him like an ache.

Toji, watching the interaction with a raised eyebrow, smirked as he pushed off the counter. “Got him trained already, huh?” he quipped, but his tone lacked its usual bite, almost as though he were trying to gauge your reaction. He had picked up on something. Something he didn’t exactly like.

You didn’t spare him a glance, your attention focused on the meal in front of you. “It’s called building trust,” you replied smoothly, your voice easygoing. But with a subtle edge. That warning telling him not to pester you.

Toji chuckled softly, a low, thoughtful sound, before turning and following Megumi out of the kitchen.

Outside the kitchen, Toji followed Megumi to the living room, leaning lazily against the wall, his smirk as irritating as ever.

It was the kind of expression that always set Megumi’s nerves on edge, a reminder of just how easily his father could get under his skin. They fought constantly these days. Even when Megumi tried to ignore him.

The silence between them stretched, heavy and loaded, before Toji finally spoke, his tone dripping with a hint of mockery.

“What’s got you so riled up lately, huh? Acting all high and mighty—like you’re the man of the house.”

Megumi stiffened, his jaw tightening as he shot his father a glare. “I’m not acting like anything,” he muttered, his voice taut. Ready for the fight. Itching to throw a punch if need be.

Toji snorted, pushing off the wall lazily, his smirk widening with amusement. Strolling closer to where Megumi sat on the couch. He always loved stirring the pot. Especially with his son.

“Sure, sure. That’s why you’re always hovering around her, huh? You like calling her ‘Mom,’ don’t you? But only when you think I’m not around to hear it, right?”

Megumi’s face burned, heat rushing to his cheeks as his entire body stiffened. “Shut up,”—a sentiment he always spat at least once when interacting with his father.

Toji’s grin only deepened, clearly feeding off his reaction. He needed to get to the bottom of this.

“What’s this, huh? Some kinda mommy fetish? You’re a weird kid, you know that? But don’t forget—she’s my wife. She needs this marriage a hell of a lot more than I do, so keep that in mind. Wouldn’t want word getting out that my boy’s been drooling all over her, yeah?”

“Shut up!” Megumi’s voice rose, striking two on the counter. He kept himself taunt, fully prepared to throw punches, no matter the outcome.

And if he’s honest—he didn’t care about the mocking tone, the smug smirk, the bait Toji was throwing.

No. All he cared about was you—the person Toji dared to talk about so casually, so possessively, like you belonged to him. Like he knew you. Like he deserved you.

Toji chuckled, shaking his head as he straightened up.

"Relax, Megs. I’m just messing with you," he said, though the sharpness in his tone made it clear there was more to it.

Then his voice dropped, the humor draining away, replaced by something colder. "But seriously, what’s with you lately?” Toji drawled, unable to keep out some amusement.

“Always stuck to her like glue, damn near biting my head off if I so much as breathe near her. What’s the deal? You think she needs you or somethin’?”

Megumi’s fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tightening as he shot his father a glare. “What’s your point?” he muttered, barely masking the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He’d confirmed it. Megumi was an open book by this point. How you hadn’t even noticed it was astounding. Maybe too swept up in your role in their life’s. In being the perfect little housewife. But he couldn’t let this go. Not that he really cared whether Megumi liked you—no. That wasn’t the issue.

Toji watched—his sharp gaze piercing right through Megumi. “My point? You’re playing with fire, kid. You’re gettin’ too close to her, and you don’t even realize it. Her clan’s no joke—they’re a problem waiting to happen. And trust me, it won’t look good if someone thinks you’re trying to....I dunno, play house or somethin’.”

Megumi froze, his breath catching in his throat. Playing house with her? The insinuation made his stomach twist, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. “What are you talking about?” he said sharply, not able to keep his confusion from bleeding into defensiveness. “She’s my...she’s family.”

Toji raised a brow, his smirk growing more condescending. “Family, huh? Is that what you’re telling yourself? That why you’re watching me like you’re ready to throttle me every time I get close to her?” He leaned in slightly, his tone dropping to something akin to a warning. “You’re a kid. You don’t even know what you’re feeling yet, so let me make it simple. Her clan’s trouble. Big trouble. And if they catch even a whiff of you trying to get closer to her—closer than you should—they won’t just make it your problem. They’ll make it hers, too."

Megumi’s fists clenched at his sides, his glare unwavering. But he can’t deny it—Toji’s words hit like a bucket of ice water, freezing something deep inside him. His mind raced, still trying to process the implications of his words. Still reeling at the thoughts of playing house with you. Of what he was really feeling here.

Toji didn’t let up, his tone growing heavier with meaning. “You know they’ve got their eyes on you, right? Them and the Zenin clan? They’re not the kind of people you want to be messing with. You so much as breathe wrong, and they’ll have you tangled up in their bullshit before you even know what hit you.”

Her clan. His father’s clan. Megumi’s stomach twisted.

He’d known about their visits, their persistence, the weight they seemed to hold over you. But hearing Toji say it like this, with an edge of warning, unsettled him.

Were they really that dangerous? Were you in more trouble than you let on? What did they mean to you? You hadn’t ever hinted at the possibility that they could be a threat. His mind raced, questions colliding with emotions he couldn’t quite untangle. Just what was Toji implying? He felt crazy—not able to form a rationale sentiment.

His judgment clouded.

“I can handle it,” Megumi said stiffly, his voice cold, though his chest remained tight. Not fully believing his own words. “Whatever it is, I’ll take care of it.”

Toji’s smirk widened, his sharp eyes boring into Megumi like he was dissecting him, pulling apart his defenses with ease. The kid never had much experience with the clan life either way. So how else was he gonna know what they were really after? Toji may not be a great father. But he did his job well. Megumi hadn’t any clue what this could mean for him.

There was no humor in Toji’s expression, only a bitter edge that made Megumi’s skin crawl. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about, do you?” His tone almost pitying, the mockery cutting deep. “Like I said before—you’re a kid. You think you can protect her? Keep her safe from that world?” His voice dropping to a low murmur. “You can’t even tell how bad you’ve got it.”

He stayed silent, unwilling to give Toji the satisfaction of a reaction.

But Toji wasn’t finished. Wanting the warning to stick. Needing it to.

“The Zenin clan…” he drawled, his tone laced with bitterness, his gaze growing distant for a moment, as if dredging up something unpleasant.  “They’d love to get their hands on you. You’re already on their radar.”

Though his voice remained calm, the weight of his words settled heavily in the room, the faint clang of dishes sounding in the background.

A constant reminder of your presence.

“Y’know that’s why she’s here, right?” Toji stalled, looking back as if making sure you weren’t there. Nearly debating on if was worth telling him this. He didn’t like the idea of Megumi’s only decent relationship falling apart through him, but he solidified his stance knowing he didn’t like the alternative.

“Funny how they work—arranged marriages. The clan heads can decide whatever they want. They’ve got so much control, especially over people like her. Women, y’know. It’s just another move to pull you in. Sent her here to watch, to get information—on you, on me. See if you’re all talk.”

Megumi’s eyes dart to his father’s, surprise painting his features. And for all intents and purposes, Toji met his gaze—piercing and unreadable, pinning him in place. So shamelessly and casually like he was discussing the weather.

Megumi’s fists clenched at his sides. He didn’t want to believe him. Didn’t want to think you could do that to him. But worst of all—his didn’t want your care to be fake.

And if it was true—because why would Toji lie here? What would he get out of this? He didn’t want to ask the question that burned at the back of his mind—didn’t want to hear his answer—not yet. But it slammed against his thoughts like stones pelting a wall. 

Why had Toji let someone like you into their lives in the first place?

“What do they want with me?” Megumi asked, avoiding the glaring question. His voice low and tense. The disbelief still strung across his face.

Toji’s smirk remained stretched across his face—humorless, a sharp edge to his words almost like it was obvious. “Your Ten Shadows Technique. That’s what they’re after. That’s the prize. They want to see if you’re worth the trouble. Investments and all that. And if you are, they’ll come for you.”  

His tone was almost mocking, like he was telling a scary bedtime story about an unimaginable boogeyman lurking in the shadows, waiting to snatch him up. It was comedic in a way.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he processed the weight of Toji’s words.

“She hasn’t even asked about that,” he shot back, defensive, his mind racing. He couldn't stand the pounding in his ears. The possibility that you might not be the person he thought you were. That you didn't actually care about him. Was this all a performance?

“She’s not stupid,” Toji replied smoothly, his tone unnervingly calm. Feeling somewhat sympathetic for whatever the fuck you two shared.

“She’s sharper than they give her credit for, playing their game better than most of them realize. But don’t fool yourself, kid—she’s still here for a reason. She might care about you, but don’t pretend she’s not tied to a leash.”

His mind was reeling. Turning. Spinning. The idea of you being under someone else’s control, in a way you couldn’t escape, twisted something inside him. The small voice in the back of his head told him there was a good chance you weren't faking it. His father’s voice was heavy with warning, but there was something else there, too—almost pity.

“Even she knows what’s at stake,” Toji added.

Megumi’s glare faltered, feeling drained. Confusion was a constant theses days. And it laced his tone as he pressed further, his voice dropping low so it wouldn’t carry over the sound of your soft humming from the kitchen. "If she’s not with them anymore, then why would she still be reporting to them? Why is she even talking to them at all?

Toji sighed, moving to lean back against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest. “You think it’s that simple?” he said. “Clan heads don’t just let go of what they think is theirs. You don’t just walk away clean, kid. They’ve got ways to drag her back if they want to. Dissolve the marriage, make up some bullshit reason. Hell, if it’s anything like I remember, they don’t even need a reason. They’ll just take her.”

His father continued, ignoring Megumi’s face contorting.

“You think her life before this was sunshine and rainbows?” Toji went on, his voice dropping lower, not eager for you to pick up their conversation. “If it was anything like the shit I saw growing up, they probably beat the defiance out of her a long time ago. I got out lucky, but not everyone does. You don’t survive in a clan like that by fighting back too much."

Toji reiterated—quite mercifully if he might add, "She’s not reporting because she wants to. She’s doing it because she has to.”

The silence stretched. Megumi’s mind replaying every moment he’d seen you quietly brushing off the clan’s calls, every forced smile, every dismissive excuse. His unrelenting white hot anger surfacing at the thought of you enduring that kind of life. What else did he not know? The questions, the veiled threats, your nervousness—all of it had been happening right in front of him. The disgusting thought of someone beating you into submission.

“Let me be real clear, kid—I don’t want you getting dragged into this clan bullshit. I’ve spent years keeping you out of it for a reason. I don’t like where this is headed, not one damn bit. But if you keep acting like this, keep pushing the way you are, they’re gonna notice. And when they do...”

The silence heavy and foreboding, as though Toji himself didn’t want to say it outright. But the implications were clear. What could they do? Snatch you back? Use you as leverage? Dangle you over their heads like bait in their endless games of power and control? Force Megumi into a spot he didn’t want to be in? He was still a kid after all.

Toji leaned in slightly, his voice cold and clipped. “They’ll use her. They’ll use you. And trust me, they won’t give a shit about what either of you wants. They’ll make it messy, and they won’t think twice about it. This isn’t some game you can play without consequences, Megumi.”

For once, there was no mockery in his tone, no smirk playing at his lips. He was dead serious, his warning obvious.

Consequences. What consequences would he endure for you? Megumi swallowed hard, his voice quieter now. “I can handle it.”

Toji’s gaze didn’t waver, his eyes narrowing, his presence heavy. He couldn’t change his mind, but Toji at least wanted him to know what he was signing himself up for. “You don’t have the luxury of playing the fool here, kid. If you’re serious about this—about her—then you better start thinking ahead. Because the way you are now? You’re weak. A burden at best. And weak doesn’t stand a chance against people like them.”

The words hit like a hammer, each syllable deliberate and cutting. It’s true.

“If this is the hill you wanna die on, then you better do something about it,” Toji fixed Megumi with a small glare of his own. Something Megumi surprisingly saw rarely. “You’re not gonna get anywhere sitting around, sulking like a brat. You want to step up? Fine. Do it. I don’t like it, but I’ll respect your decision. Just know what you’re getting yourself into. Do it for the right reason. And make sure you aren't dragging her behind you along the way.”

Once again bathed in silence, they stared at each other. Opposite ends of the spectrum yet so similar in so many ways.

With a shrug that seemed too casual for the tension he’d left behind, Toji retreated back to the kitchen, where your soft humming still drifting through the air. Oblivious to the fight that’d just take place. Fight? More like a warning. To Megumi, it sounded almost mocking now, a reminder of how close yet distant you were. That warmth you brought into their lives was there, just out of reach, and it only made the ache in his chest more unbearable.

Later that night, Megumi lay sprawled on his bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as his father’s taunting words played in his mind on an endless loop. Too weak. A burden. Danger. He grit his teeth, the weight of it settling like a stone in his chest.

Distance—that’s what he needed. He needed to put some space between you and him, for your sake.

But even as the thought crossed his mind, his chest clenched painfully. The idea of pulling away, of losing the comfort of your presence, felt like a knife twisting in his gut. He hated this feeling.

Hated how much he relied on his father for protection, how Toji’s words exposed every insecurity he fought to ignore.

What made it worse was the truth behind them. If your clan really was as dangerous as Toji claimed, if they were determined to drag you back—or worse—what could he do to stop them?

Right now, he was nothing but a danger to your safety. The way his thoughts spiraled whenever he was around you, the way his heart twisted and burned with feelings he didn’t fully understand—it made him reckless. Possessive. Clouded. He'd act on impulse, clinging to you like his life depended on it. His feelings still so jumbled, he tried to sort them out.

Why did his chest tighten every time you smiled at him?

Why did it matter so much when you called him family?

Why did he feel this gnawing need to keep you close, to make sure no one—not his father, not your clan, not anyone—could take you away?

Why were these feelings still present when he knew they weren’t dedicated to a mother?

It was raw and confusing, tangled in ways he couldn’t yet unravel.

But one thing burned through the haze of uncertainty: whatever this was, whatever you’d become to him, he couldn’t let it go.

He wouldn’t let it go.

You were the most important person in his life—that was for sure—and you were trapped in a situation he couldn’t fix. Yet.

For so long, he’d stayed on the outskirts of jujutsu society, avoiding the weighty politics of clan life despite his development of the Ten Shadows technique.

But now he had to face the question he’d been dodging: 

What was he willing to do?

His jaw tightened, a spark of resolve cutting through the haze of doubt. He couldn’t let things stay like this. Couldn’t keep standing idly by while Toji spoke about you like you were just his possession—his wife. While his clan threw around your life like it meant nothing.

Megumi’s feelings for you ran deeper than even he wanted to admit.

You weren’t just his stepmother.

You weren’t just someone who cooked and cleaned and made his life softer in ways he hadn’t known he needed.

You were…something else.

Someone who mattered in a way he couldn’t put into words. Something beyond words.

And if he wanted to prove that—to protect you the way you deserved—he couldn’t afford to hesitate. He needed to change. To get stronger. To become someone capable of standing by your side, someone who could protect you without relying on his father. He needed to grow up.

And fast.

p.7

AN: Thank you for reading! This is my last one for today, i've gotta go to bed-- to be continued soon. please give a follow and reblog if you want to stay updated - or follow along on my ao3

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

what do you mean your family can predict tragedies. huh what

It’s weird, honestly? I’m personally quite skeptical and wary of all that stuff myself these days but unfortunately my family is weird and I’ve predicted a death before and I know one of my Aunts gets strange warnings ahead of time, like she knew my Uncle had a serious blood clot and forced him to go to the doctor, and she once had this awful feeling something was about to happen and she had to call someone, so went through her whole phone and when she called her mum, it turns out her mum had fallen asleep at the wheel and the phone call woke her up.

The first one my cousin told me so not sure on that 100%, but the second one I remember her telling me a while ago.

It’s interesting because me and my aunt aren’t biologically related at all, and yet I think we’re the only ones in the family who’s had this sort of thing? Although, my two uncles who I am related too have a very intense sixth sense that I’ve also inherited.

Sixth sense is more of a natural thing though at least. I think some people just have more of one than others.

[oflolth]

27. is your muse more confident or shy when it comes to approaching someone they like? for nathryn

romance & relationship headcanons ; @darkdabbling .

in menzoberranzan, she's extremely confident! on the surface, however, nathbryn would rather die. she thinks this is insane, of course, but that doesn't really help her in getting over it.

she's a fish out of water. or a... spider out of water? a water spider. araquanid. an araquanid out of water. she will probably confess, but it's just as likely that she'll leave it forever - which she can also justify quite easily by pointing out to herself that romantic relationships will not actually get the tadpole removed faster. she is focused on the mission.

[quietwingsinthesky]

i really do think the desire to paint ten as unambiguously The Worst™️ when it comes to his relationship with martha is out of this desire to uncomplicate their relationship. to decouple them as friends and people who profoundly impacted each other’s lives. it’s just an easier narrative to swallow: that ten was Awful to her and then martha kicked him to the curb when she realized she was too good for him. easier, maybe, then dealing with the troubles of unrequited affection don’t have to be anyone’s fault, or that ten shut martha out in a lot of ways but let her in in others that he wouldn’t let any other companion near, or that they were still friends, they still wanted to see each other and be around each other, even though it was messy and sometimes hurt. you know?

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads

The Deep Sky

scifi mystery thriller

on a deep space mission traveling from an environmentally devastated earth with hope to restart humanity elsewhere

when they’re halfway, an explosion kills 3 crew and pushes them off course

the only witness is the Alternate who has no specific role, and she has to figure out who caused it & if they might continue to sabotage, while they're figuring out a way to get back on course with limited resources

flips between present and the past: of her childhood and training for the mission, her identity struggles, and relationship with her mother

questions the ethics of ‘restarting’ humanity elsewhere vs putting resources into fixing earth

[thetardisisnotourdivision]

Hey did I ever tell y'all about the time I dreamed that I had a baby daughter called Ellie that began with my finding out I was pregnant and ended on like her third birthday?

I legitimately woke up thinking "I should go check on Ellie" and then realised she was never real and when I tell you I SOBBED. I've been haunted by an implacable sense of loss ever since. Did I travel to another dimension? Wtf happened because that was insane.

[dyketennant]

oh i can already tell i’m about to have some really unpopular opinions about the edge of sleep tv show

[milfygerard]

living in the inbetween hell where I dont hate or love ttpd enough to agree with anyone on the dash so im just sort of flinching whenever I see a post about it from any side

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[spiderz-n-circuitz]

unfollowing one of my long time moots without any hesitation because they posted a big thing about why cheating is fine 👍

[ame-to-ame]

there are things that you don't do for a year or more and pick up just right where you left off and these days i fear loving you might be one of them

[vilnan]

gitch creche is one of my favourite parts of the whole game but man i just want to be done with act 1 already 😭

[radlegowaffle]

giving you a melty kiss, i dedicate my first death to you

@pixellyix's d&d character for her campaign ;u;

[zevrans-remade]

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