#captain raptor | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

karlachismylife · 3 months ago

Note

Hi hi! It's me again, i love to that i can be here for your beautiful work, now hear me out, what if, we think out of the box and look out of the animals that were familiar with, do you know what i haven't found yet? Mythical and folklore 141, a bunch of tritons falling in love with a surfer? A pack of wendigos that had been hiding until they want to be seen by dear reader? Omg such an abundance of mythical creatures to choose from! I hope it could help a bit, with love and care

~🐰❄️

Hello, love! Thank you so, so much for your kind words and the amount of inspiration you gifted me!!! I'm sorry I respond so late, I was actually thinking about your ask a lot. I wanted to collect some recommendations for you, but realized I actually don't know any fics like that? I somehow felt that I did, but either I forgot and will only remember later, or I made it up. BUT I do have one recommendation! It's not folklore, but I think it can count as mythical? It's this monster!au fic by @brineoffire that is inspired by @bluegiragi 's very famous monster!au (which I also absolutely love and recommend, but I feel like everyone already knows it lol). I also know that @forestshadow-wolf has some yummy kelpie!Soap, which duh, of course kelpie and selkie Soap fics are the finest.

However, this made me realize that I want to make a masterlist of recommendatons! So thank you for pushing me in that direction :3 Also - and that's for everyone - feel free to send recommendations of your own! I'll be happy to read and share! Self-recs are also very very needed!

Coming back to your ask directly, I actually skimmed through it at first and thought you meant tritons as amphibians and was like "hmm why not axolotls?" and then realized you're talking about mermen xD Which are always on top of my list of mythical creatures because I (in case anyone didn't notice yet) LOVE sea. And everything it holds as well. And also mermaid-adjacent oviposition.

By the way, a long time ago I saw this painting (TW!blood and gore, so not putting it here directly) by Sergei Kolesov of a whale-sized mermaid and it has been on my mind ever since, even moreso after I saw the Drowned Giant episode of Love, Death & Robots. What if they actually were of a monstrous size? If a normal, human-sized tritons/mermen with a surfer feel like a fresh, light, summery and full of laughter and sun romance, these abyssal creatures and a whale researcher (stranded in the midst of an expedition, perhaps?) would make for a hauntingly beautiful, thalassophobic story. A tiny human coming to terms with their insignificance in the face of the eternal, bottomless ocean and at the same time learning what's it like, to be loved by the abyss itself - to be cradled in hands as big as their little boat, to look in the huge eyes of a horrifyingly powerful creature and see mirrored reverence. To soothe scars left by something you'd rather not know existed, if it can harm these giants. Size difference who?

Surfer!reader and tritons/mermen of smaller size would be so fun tho. So much space for mischief and playfulness, strong tails flipping the board over, sunscreen smell mingling with salty seaweed. Drifting while you wait for a wave and feeling something brush against your hand submerged in the water - only to get grabbed by your legs next, because someone just can't leave you alone. Getting shells brought to you seemingly by the sea surf if you don't surf on a lazy waves day and stay on the beach, making sand castles. Being the wind to their waves, kissing the sunburns away from their noses, not used to being out of water so much. Making love on the beach and SUFFERING from sand everywhere. Laying on the board on your stomach and kissing the most beautiful creatures surrounding you like curious dolphins or sea otters, heads sticking out of water, scaly fingers in your hair, webbed ears fluttering adorably.

I would actually love to write a selkie story, since they are one of my most favourite sea mythical creatures and I've written multiple fairy tales about them (including a biopunk take, which I am still proud of), but I am SO sure I've seen someone metion that someone's already writing it... I'll put it in my recommendations list 100% when/if I find it. Also plugging this precious thing by @the-shotce-newsletter since I look at the chonky seal Soap almost every day for happiness boost.

(CW! dark themes including cannibalism and such in this paragraph)

I am a little hesitant to touch on the wendigos yet, since I am not sure I have enough cultural knowledge on them and I do not want to add to the harm done by popculture depictions of them, but I am a sucker for intertwining love, lust and cannibalism. Isn't one type of love exactly that - a desire to merge into one whole with your loved one, unable to be separated on atomic level? To consume, devour and celebrate the strength they gave you? Or - to give up yourself completely, to be devoured, to become that strength by burning in an insatiable stomach? What is oral sex if not cannibalism of sorts? The erotisism of letting someone to touch your heart not metaphorically, but quite literally... and the long, drawn-out way leading up to it, coming to terms with the initial horror until it blossoms into sincere desire? That is something to think about.

There's definitely a lot more to dig up in folklore. For example, the legend of Herne the Hunter? The antlers-wearing ghost keeper of Winsdor Forest, that is often linked to Celtic Cernunnos in modern re-tellings? Is reader seeking spiritual liberation in neopaganism, catching attention of the forest spirit in its hunting grounds? Or are they just enjoying the nature, not knowing yet that they're kept safe by a power as old as the oldest trees in this forest? Or! Maybe they're in a world similar to the Robin of Sherwood series (I fucking LOVE that series and I WILL cry every time I hear Clannad's theme song play)? An archer blessed by the Hunter (why not make it four Hunters? there aren't just deers roaming the forests, after all! but if I had to choose one, I'd say it's very Price coded) to fight for what's right?

Or maybe they're trolls? Cave-dwelling brutes, enchanted by your beauty so much that they take the first opportunity to steal your child, replacing it with a changeling, just to have at least some part of you close to them? What will they do though, when they find out that there's so much kindness in you that you're ready to raise the changeling, protecting the innocent troll child from the wrath of your husband that blames you for your newborn's kidnapping? Of course they have to make everything right. And also - take you away from the man that dared to be cruel to you. You'll find out that being a troll princess is much better than it seems.

Somehow I couldn't remember any suitable slavic entity that wouldn't have some already well-used counterpart (like vampires, water or forest spirits - somehow every single other one I recall is a female entity, wow, that's interesting). But I'll think on it. I like the general image of paradise birds with human faces, like Sirin, Alkonost or Gamayun (which are all female. also, I encourage everyone to check out this short animated film about Sirin, I saw it on a short animated film festival and absolutely fell in love, it's a beautiful work of art. english subtitles available!!!). So maybe the boys are of same species? Powerful, prophetic human-birds, capable both of luring anyone and bringing destruction with their voices. And you, coming to learn your destiny from them, or - offering yourself in exchange for salvation of your village. They won't take your life, but they will make you theirs. Every bird needs someone to sing to.

I do like presonifications of winds, too - not from any particular mythilogy, but just in general. After all, it's wind and sun we're caressed by the most in life, isn't it? And there are four of them, so you'll never be lonely, whatever direction breeze blows today. Living somewhere on a hill, where there's always wind rustling in your curtains, playing with your hair and drawing gentle swirls in the dust under your feet. Cool, breezy kisses on your cheeks - or pranks, when they bring a singular pocket-sized cloud to hold over your head and rain specifically on you? Do you dare to learn just how loyal the winds can be?

I think I went a little too serious, solemn and dramatic route with this. Maybe I should look into some little shits that just cause harmless chaos. But I will definitely put pins on every single idea I wrote out here - and everyone is welcome to tell me, which one you find the most interesting, what would you like to read the most; maybe you wanna expand on some of them? Or you have some completely other view on some of them? Everything's welcome! I loved thinking about it. Thank you so much for asking <3

I will also think about other COD characters in such AUs. Heh. My brain looks like a Chritmas tree right now, so many pretty lights glowing. Many tasty thoughts.

A bit of a later addition, but I suddenly remembered the Sandman (Sandmann) legend/stories/interpretation, and I am actually incredibly fascinated with him (I'm a little bit of a Hoffmann fan and I'm not talking about the Saw character for once, even though that's my babygirl too). I love the complicated relationship of humanity with sleep, dreams, nightmares and death he embodies. And honestly the eye imagery always gets me even though I don't think I mastered using it myself. Anyway, I think task force 141 as four different sides of this entity (sweet, calm sleep with nice dreams; insomnia and nightmares; heavy, restless, hot sleep like with fever/just too intense but not bad (potentially sexy) dreams; and finally, the eternal sleep, death) would be an interesting concept, but obviously it would be more fair to seek one of the German/German-speaking at least characters to take on this role. Can't really see König in this, though. But Krueger and Golem don't really strike me as Sandmann material either... and I don't remember any other German speaking guys...

We also have Orla "Banshee" Murphy in game already (one of my hardcore crushes btw, she's so my type), so, like. There's your banshee hahaha. I actually would like to try writing a banshee in special forces... or maybe IRA... they'd make a powerful enemy I think. With her destructive tendencies (I told you she's my type) that would suit her so well.

Also on the topic of my operator crushes (help, I'm really trying to stay on topic here) I am literally obsessed with Raptor (Natalya Orlova). I don't know what folclore entity she could be (well, could always make her Baba Yaga, but I'm afraid I see our little Yaga as too harmless of an entity, all those films I watched in childhood made her too lovable to me), but she would be fucking terrifying. She's from Kamchatka, and I am unfortunately not too well-versed in the mythology there, but my quick research told me that in that region people have a six-legged white bear demon Kochatko - considering that her bio states she single-handedly killed a white bear proving her hunter father wrong, that would honestly be a great ballad of a hero slaying the monster to take its place. Like Schwartz's "Dragon" play, but this time we spin it as a good thing, empowerment and reclaming of identity and shit. I'm already so far in this yapping aren't I.

There are so many other operators from so many regions I am not even remotely familiar with in terms of culture and folklore... so many opportunities... mm...

59 notes · View notes

reignpage · 13 days ago

Text

Basketball Captain!Toji

Toronto Raptors: home win

Word Count: 5k Warnings: fluff mostly, a little angst, cursing, mentions of darker themes but nothing too serious, not proofread, final pre-relationship chapter, thus concluding toji's story for now,

“Come on,” is all Toji says when you open the door to his solid knocks.

He doesn’t say anything else as you follow him out to his car, where you strap in, confused and unsure. Still in his gym clothes, you can tell he came straight from training, and there’s tension in his shoulders that’s usually all worked out after a good session bullying his teammates relentlessly.

The man just showed up, unannounced, at your door after noon. He didn’t greet you with a kiss or a sneaky squeeze of your ass. He simply urged you to follow him and so you did. Silent, uncharacteristically so, he just led you down.

With a sigh, you breach the silence when he starts the car up. “It’s pretty cold outside, Fushiguro. I don’t understand how you can stand to be in shorts every day.”

“It’s not that cold, ma.” He snorts. His veins are prominent, bulging from how tense he is, but he eases his grip on the steering wheel enough for you to lose that fear he’ll veer off a bridge or something.

“Where are we going?”

He throws you a side glance, hand falling on onto your thigh with a squeeze that you can’t be sure he means to be comforting but rather just to cop a feel. Though you appreciate it, you can’t help but feel even more anxious.

“You wanted me to prove that I’ve changed, that I’m willing to change. For you. So, that’s what I’m doing.”

There’s a conviction in his eyes, a fire you only ever see when he’s playing a game, when he’s facing all the opposing players dotted along the court but all he sees is the way through to get to glory. In your short time of knowing Fushiguro, you’ve learnt that he’s a pretty laidback guy. Rarely does he ever get riled up.

His ability to remain calm under any situation is one of the many things you admire about him -- he was reliable when he helped you with your ex, when he made dinner every night as your roommate, and when he picks you up and drops you off all over campus for this and that.

Though the boundaries of your relationship had never been established, you can’t help but feel like dating him wouldn’t be so bad. After all, that’s practically what you’ve been doing this entire time when he brings you coffee after your class or when he just shows up at your door randomly with an overnight bag.

You like him.

You’ve never denied it.

But you’re not stupid.

Toji Fushiguro is a manwhore. It’s a term you dislike, and you know he’s so much more than his sexual history, but that history is extensive. And though you’ve daydreamed you could be more than a notch on the proverbial bedpost, you’ve never deluded yourself into thinking that he’ll propose to you after a night of great sex.

It would be unfair of you to expect him to change anyways.

However, this past week or two, something about him had shifted. He’s become more serious around you. You could tell when he scolds you for your unhealthy diet consisting of overly sugary cereal and fruit-flavoured candies. Or when he actually takes the time to read your work and sends even just a quick message expressing his thoughts.

Nowadays, he walks around with an arm around you and introduces you not as a friend but by your name and his friends seem to understand exactly what he means. Now, people know who you are and they stop to greet you in the hallways, and all you can do is stutter out an awkward greeting.

It’s all so very odd.

Is it possible he really means it when he says he wants you to be his girlfriend?

“You’re doing a lot of thinking right now, aren’t ya?” He asks.

You didn’t even realise he’s parked already. You’re in an unfamiliar place: a very nice, wealthy area in West Eden. Up ahead, you see a picturesque estate often visited by flocks of tourists day in and day out. What with its tall, golden gates and lush garden, even grander than Eden’s National Park.

It’s a mansion belonging to an old money family. Even you know their name. The same kind of name often associated with the Gojos and the Ryomens.

“What are we doing at the Zenin Manor?”

He doesn’t answer, simply exits the car and opens your door. The arm strung over your shoulder does absolutely nothing to quell that anxiety inside, because written all over Toji’s face is that very same uncertainty and dread you’re feeling.

His brows are furrowed, there’s no smile on his face, and when he frowns like that, his scar becomes even more prominent. He licks his lips, searching for the indentation on his skin as he eyes the towering fence lining the entire property as far as the eye can see.

He doesn’t say a word.

There’s no comment about how you should dress warmer, or how your ass looks in your jeans or how dead to the world he feels after training. Nothing. Except for a squeeze of your hand when it reaches his on your shoulder.

You’ve never seen him look so…small.

He doesn’t lead you to the gates but rather down the street, following the metal fencing. The manor is gorgeous and old. It carries the weight of centuries of wealth, power and integrity. Everything is calculated to perfection, from the symmetrically aligned shrubbery to the shiny windows. There isn’t a single leaf out of place, no blade of grass taller than the other, and even the cars parked down the road are all freshly washed and polished.

There’s no doubt about it; the Zenin Manor is a work of architectural art.

But there’s something off about the whole place, something detached or clinical. Perhaps it’s because there are no people — not in the streets, not in the huge lawn, and not in any of the windows. It’s like a ghost town. Or maybe it’s because everything is too perfect, too symmetrical and clean.

You’ve heard rumours about ghosts living in the Manor, stories of children’s screams echoing in the depth of the night, of blood splatters on walls, of monsters lurking behind huge trees. You know the stories the locals pass around about the Zenins – they dabbled in dark magic and colluded with the devil. Their descendants possess otherworldly powers and those that don’t are cast away, rejected by their kin.

It’s the kind of folklore that attracts the tourists to begin with; they love the contrast of the pristine beauty of the home with idea of the horrors that fill it.

As far as the building and the family is concerned, however, that’s as much as you know. Which doesn’t exactly fill you with confidence now that Toji is leading you into a maze of roads and alleyways of sorts.

The fencing off the main street is weaker, the metal rusted and the shrubs sharper and sparser. You’ve lost your bearing now that Toji is leading you here and there, guiding you back and forth, left and right. And the houses across the street are smaller, older, and tightly packed. That sterile front is long gone.

He stops.

When you look up at the Manor once more, you’re surprised to find it’s farther in the distance from the fence and you’re staring at what seems to be the back garden —though you’re certain no one would call it a ‘garden’ when it more closely resembles a park.

“Toji, I’m being serious. Why are we here?”

He sighs, arm leaving you and tucking itself in his hoodie pocket. Rocking on his feet, he jerks his head and replies, “There’s something I wanna show ya.”

You follow his gaze to a big cherry blossom tree, leaves rustling and petals flowing in the wind. It’s the only tree littering on the perfect grass and it’s pretty, as all cherry blossoms tend to be. But that isn’t what he’s looking at.

No, Toji is looking at a little boy.

He has black, spiky hair and wears a plain black shirt with shorts. He’s alone. Reading a book, he sits under the tree and is completely obvlivious to the two people watching him.

If this was under any other circumstances, you wouldn’t think much more about the scene. Sure, you don’t know many little boys who read but reading a book isn’t a crime. It’s actually great for children, according to a study you read some time ago.

But this boy is different. Not just because there’s a maturity to him that makes your heart ache, or the fact that a boy his age should be out with friends or at the very least should be watched by an adult, but because he bears a striking resemblance to the huge man beside you.

“You have a son?” You screech.

Toji snorts, hand flying to smush your face like you’re just too adorable not to squish. With an amused tone, he scolds, “Don’t jump to conclusions, ma. I’ve never not wrapped it before I tapped it.”

“Okay, so why are we staring at this kid? Tell me it’s not because this is a hobby of yours ‘cause I swear to god, if you need to be on a register, I’m gonna…well, I don’t actually know what I’d do but I’ll do something.”

He doesn’t look impressed with your little rant. In fact, he doesn’t even grace you with a response and instead puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly.

You wince.

The boy looks up, head jolting and gaze piercing right through you immediately. He sets his book down and runs over. Somehow, he looks even smaller when he reaches the fence, barely at your hip. He looks completely suspicious of you but says nothing.

“Hey, kid,” Toji says, bending down to a squat. “How ya been?”

The little boy shrugs and holds the fence in his tiny hands. “Good. Who’s the pretty lady?”

There’s a look of pride that steals your breath when Toji looks up at you. He has that handsome smile on his face, the one that stretches his scar out and crinkles his eyes. The very same smile he gives you when he scores, and his eyes finds yours in the crowd. A smile that makes your heart beat a mile a minute and threatens to knock you on your feet.

“This,” Toji announces with an exaggerated gesture to you, “is ma girl.”

It isn’t the first time you’ve heard him say that, but it sure does feel like it. You release a shaky smile, bending down too to meet the little boy’s inquisitive gaze full on. Mustering a nurturing tone, you introduce yourself. “Hi, I’m y/n. What’s your name?”

“Megumi. He mentions you a lot when he visits. I thought you weren’t real, but I guess you are so, hi.”

“Oi, don’t be rude, ya little brat.” Nudging Toji and giving him a look, you urge him to explain further. “Oh, right. This is my little brother. Pain in my ass but he’s smart so I think I have to be nice to him when he becomes rich and shit.”

Aghast, you hiss, “Do you make it a habit of swearing in front of your brother?”

Something passes through his eyes, a spark of surprise and warmth, one that you can’t quite place. But you don’t have time to ponder it because shouting comes from the distance.

“Shit, we gotta do. Come on, Megs,” Toji urges.

With expert agility, the boy manoeuvres himself through the metal bars of the fence and reaches his arms up so he can be carried by his brother, who jerks his chin, signalling to run.

You do.

Ignoring the shouting behind you, you run through the maze of alleyways and roads, dodging trees and branches, and pumping your legs to keep up with the athlete in front of you. Despite holding up someone else’s weight, he runs incredibly fast. You’re not sure why you’re surprised and impressed considering he’s a basketball player but it’s all you can think about when you finally reach his car and strap in.

Megumi sits in the back, fingers drumming on his bare knees as Toji drives off.

You’re trying to catch your breath, panting embarrassingly whilst the other two seem unfazed, like the whole ordeal hadn’t happened, like Toji Fushiguro, captain of Eden University’s Varsity Basketball team, hasn’t just kidnapped a child from one of the country’s wealthiest families.

“Gotta calm down, ma. Y’r gonna pop a blood vessel with how hard y’r grinding your teeth,” he advices, totally amused.

There’s no drop of sweat on his forehead, no flush on his cheeks, or a heave of his chest. He’s cool, calm and collected, and you hate him so much right now.

“Fushiguro, tell me you didn’t just steal this boy away from his family.”

Toji’s jaw clenches. “I am his family.”

You groan, exasperated. What does any of this have to do with him begging to be your boyfriend?

Does he think kidnapping impresses girls nowadays? Or maybe he thinks you’re the kind of girl who’s always wanted to be behind bars?

“Is this the right thing to do? Won’t we get into trouble?”

“We do this all the time,” the little boy remarks. He doesn’t look bothered at all, either. In fact, he smiles at you, teeth missing and gums showing, like he’s aware of the absurdity of the situation and is rubbing salt on the wound.

You screech again, hands flailing as you heave for air. “I’m too young to go to prison, Toji. I can’t. I wouldn’t look very inspirational as a fugitive. And I don’t know how to fashion shanks out of forks!”

“She’s funny,” Megumi notes.

Toji laughs. He fucking laughs.

“This isn’t funny, Fushiguro. Take him back. Take him back and explain that you found him wandering the streets or something.”

Toji stops laughing.

“No. I’m not taking him back. Not until I absolutely have to.”

He’s too casual about the whole thing, like he didn’t just make you an accessory to a crime. And it’s pissing you off in ways that’s making your brain malfunction. You’ve always known getting involved with him would bring you trouble but you assumed that trouble would manifest in a few jealous girls.

That you could handle.

Law enforcement?

Your other hand reaches for the door handle, contemplating the possibility of jumping out and claiming he kidnapped you too. The door clicks. He locked you in.

When you look up at him, he gives you a knowing smile, hand on the gearstick leaving to hold your thigh instead. You swat it away. Then, with a resigned sigh, he begins his explanation.

“Listen. I know ya think this is crazy, and yeah, it kinda is. But he’s my brother. And I’m not doing anything to harm him. If anything, this is good for him.”

“Good? This is good for him? What are you talking about?” You stare in disbelief.

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, it is good. ‘Cause you have no idea what those people do to him. They’re fucking insane. They never let him out. He never gets to play. He doesn’t even know any kids his age.”

“It’s the Zenin family. They’re all over the news. Would they actually abuse a child? Like, wouldn’t they want to avoid bad press?”

Both Megumi and Toji scoff.

If they didn’t already resemble each other physically, that arrogant noise would have screamed their relation to each other. Guess being annoying runs in the family.

“They control the media, babe. They decide what goes out on the papers. Trust me, I know.”

You gulp. He’s not suggesting he’s experienced it first hand, has he?

His last name is Fushiguro, not Zenin. How could he be related to that family?

He’s never been pictured with them, never mentioned his connection, and no one, not even in your Insider’s Line has that ever been whispered. But of course, he must be related somehow. His brother is a Zenin child, after all.

“Y’r thinking that ‘cause my last name is Fushiguro, I’m not a Zenin, right?” Your silence is all the answer he needs. “I am a Zenin. Was raised as one. But I don’t want anything to do with them, so I changed my name as soon as I was eighteen. Emancipated myself and shit.”

Your voice is a little more than a whisper when you ask, “What did they do to you, Toji?”

He squeezes your thigh, thumb brushing before he answers, “They’re not good people. They don’t care about how far they push ya as long as they get results. They’ve started doing the same to Megs and I can’t get him outta there but I gotta, y’know? Even just for a little while. So he can get some fresh air, eat some fucking candy like a normal child or something.”

“They know it’s you, though, right?”

“Yeah. They bombard me with threats and shit, asking me to return him but it’s only when they show up at my door that I let him go. But I hate doing it every time. Hate having to say goodbye knowing he’s going back to that hellhole whilst I get to be free or whatever. Don’t look at me like that. Don’t pity us. We’re not a fucked-up charity case.”

You hold the hand on your lap, bringing it up to your mouth to lay a kiss along his knuckles. “I know.”

Neither of you mention the shake in your hand.

Toji pulls up to a drive through, ordering a bunch of junk food he’d always turned his nose up before but scarfs them down eagerly. He let Megumi order everything he wanted from the menu, even two milkshakes and a bunch of burgers no child could possibly finish. With no mention of the elephant in the car, you all feast on the mountain of greasy food from oiled up paper bags.

Soon, the little boy is knocked out, crumbs all over his shorts and ketchup on his chin, a look of utter contentment on his face as he dozes off.

You’re cleaning up the mess, crumpling up the papers and stuffing them into a big bag, busying yourself as Toji leans on a bent elbow through the window. You can tell he’s got a lot on his mind; he keeps looking at his brother through the rear-view mirror.

Though you don’t think of them as a charity case, you do feel pity. It’s a situation you would never want to be in and it’s one they should never have to live through. But they do and you have no idea how to help. To think, that all this time, he’s been worrying for his brother, balancing his weird, messed up family history with his degree and games. You would have never figured it out.

He’s always joking around, always working hard and living easy. How he has any time for taking care of a child, you would never know.

“He’s pretty cute, isn’t he?”

Toji is startled when you speak, almost as if he’s forgotten where he is. The tension in his face wears away though and his gaze softens when he takes in your adoring smile. Hand rising, he thumbs away a sauce in the corner of your lips before he leans forward, lips meeting yours.

It’s not rough and messy the way he kisses you before he’s ripping your clothes off as he pins you to the wall. It’s soft and gentle. A kiss just to feel and taste you. A kiss that shows his appreciation and you return it.

“Y’r a champ,” he says against your lips.

You giggle. “I didn’t do anything.”

He playfully bites your bottom lip before he argues, “Ya did a lot. I’m always nervous doing this. The sneaking around and shit, but it helped that you were here.”

You kiss him again, hands cradling his face.

The sun is setting and it’s growing colder outside but being in the warmth of your own little cocoon with Toji holding you close washes away any worries about what tomorrow will bring.

“This is why I brought ya here,” he begins. “I wanted to show ya a different part of me. Wanted to explain some things.”

You shake your head.

“You don’t need to explain anything you’re not ready to.”

He pecks your lips and with a laugh, he says, “You’re too sweet, ma. But I wanna. D’ya remember when you caught me with that girl in my place?”

You pull away.

“Oh, come on, don’t get all mad again. I’m explaining that it was a misunderstanding. Well, kinda. I was sleeping with her, yeah. But not ‘cause I liked her or anything.”

Swatting his groping hands away, you scoff. “Are you seriously telling me you slept with her because you hate her?”

Toji laughs again. “Nah, ‘course not. Barely even knew her. She just works part time as a maid in that place. She takes care of him sometimes.”

“So?”

He grabs your thigh again. “So, I used her to keep tabs on him. Women tend to be more loose lipped after an orgasm or two.”

You’re blinking rapidly, trying to process the information. “You slept with her just to keep an eye on your brother?”

Shrugging like there’s absolutely nothing remotely crazy about that, he replies, “Yeah. Been doing it for a while. Not since then, actually. But since I ran away. Not just her, either. Anyone who can tell me what’s going on in that house. Sometimes, Megs can’t come out and he doesn’t leave for weeks and I just gotta know he’s safe, that they haven’t done something to him. I need to know that I’ll see him again.”

“Oh.”

It’s a pretty pathetic thing to say but it’s the only thing you can muster after an admission like that. Though it explains your relevance to the whole thing, you’re not sure exactly what he’s trying to say. Or maybe you are, and you just need to hear him say it. Maybe you need to hear it from his very lips, need to be sure that whatever’s going on between you isn’t just a fling, something to pass the time.

“Why are you telling me this, Toji? Spell it out for me.”

His piercing green eyes meet yours and there’s that warmth there again. It robs you of your breath and when his hand winds around your neck to bring you close, you don’t resist.

“I haven’t slept with anyone in over a month. Only you. Apart from my fuck ugly roommate, y’r the only one who knows about Megs, who knows about my past. Y’r the only one I trust enough to be around him. And I’ve never let anyone wear my jersey except for you. Y’r the only woman I’ve slept with more than like three times and I want to do it again and again and never stop. But that’s not the only reason I want to date you. Y’r fucking amazing. Y’r smart in ways I don’t really get, y’r funny and incredible and I fucking love ya. I think. I’ve never been in love before so I still gotta figure some shit out but I’m fairly certain.”

He kisses you again, hiding the heat in his cheeks and the nervous furrowing of his brows.

This time he kisses you with so much passion and fire you’re moaning into his mouth, and he swallows it with a bruising kiss. His possessive hands are everywhere, holding you close, feeling your body and you’re exploring his too, despite knowing it so well already. Neither of you can get enough of the warmth you’re generating.

“I want to be with ya. And I know ya think I’m still sleeping around or something, but I’m not. I swear. I won’t sleep with anyone else. I’ll figure out how to keep tabs on Megs but don’t worry about it. We’ll be fine. I just want ya to know what y’r getting into if ya say yes to me.”

There’s an unsteadiness to his words as he mutters them against your lips, a quake and quiver you’ve never heard him have before. The way he holds you is lighter than usual too, like he’s expecting you to run away and never turn back, or he’s worried you’ll be swiped away.

He looks so boyish in this very moment, so unsure of himself, so shy, you can’t help but smile. You brush over the bristles on his jaw and breathe in his musky scent, wholly enamoured with the strength you find in his body.

“I do, Toji,” you breathe out. “I like you, too. I liked you a lot already and then you tell me you’re a really sweet guy who would do anything for his little brother? Fuck, I’d say yes if you asked me to elope.”

You’re joking. You think. It’s hard to tell when he’s kissing you again.

“Let’s make it official, ma. Take me off the List.”

You gasp. “W-why? Don’t you like being on there? What about getting the best of Gojo?”

Toji skims his nose over the length of your neck, inhaling deeply before he mutters, “Don’t care about that freak. As long as ya like me, that’s good enough. Ya can still write about how hot I am and shit, won’t stop you there, but if I’m y’r boyfriend, people might accuse ya of favouritism.”

“You’re doing this to defend my journalistic integrity?” You jest, a low moan stuck in your throat as you rake your fingers through his hair.

He hums, lips dragging over your jaw to meet yours again. “Of course. Not gonna let anyone suggest ma girl is biased, even if she totally should be.”

Groaning in your mouth when you arch your chest into his hand, he tightens his hold and leans even closer. You’re losing yourself in the pleasure, that rush of something addictive as he lays it all out for you, and you greedily take everything.

You want more. You want all of him.

“Toji,” you whine.

Someone clears their throat.

You part ways, panting.

“I’m still here,” is all Megumi says.

Toji laughs and throws a balled-up tissue at the boy who slaps it away with a disgusted look on his face. “Had a good nap, kid?”

“I was until you started making kissing noises. Ew.”

You laugh and reach behind to give his knee an apologetic squeeze. Using a tissue, you wipe up that ketchup on his chin that’s been bothering you. Megumi doesn’t say a word, still eyeing you with suspicion, but he also doesn’t resist when you squeeze his teeny tiny hands. He’s just too cute.

With a final look around at you and his brother, Toji starts up the car. “Alright, where to next?”

You don’t hesitate to announce, “My dorm.”

The car is lighter when he begins driving again. There’s a gleeful shine in his eyes as he throws you glances and clutches your hand. Your cheeks are hurting from how much you’re smiling but you don’t stop, you wouldn’t be able to even if you try. Something plays on the radio, and you hum under your breath, watching the scenery pass by.

Megumi, lulled by the journey, falls back asleep and, after parking, Toji carries him in his arms as you lead the way to your room, making sure to keep quiet. Once inside, he lays him on the bed, tucking him in and brushing his hair back.

For a little boy, he’s very well behaved. He sits quietly, listens and cleans up after himself. He doesn’t cry, doesn’t complain or get pouty. That just saddens you more. Sweeping his little figure, he looks a little lonely on a plain bed, hidden under feminine sheets.

There’s something wrong with the sight of a child alone at night and you know just how to fix it.

You ignore your boyfriend’s confused look when you venture over to your desk and pluck up the gift bag covered in dust. There’s no shame or embarrassment in the air as you finally address that looming object in your room, taking up space and reminding you of how quickly you opened your heart up.

“I was gonna give this to you, but I think he’d appreciate it more,” you whisper.

Toji takes offence to that and wrestles you into him, peppering attacks against your neck with his lips and tickling your sides. You fight him off with a barely restrained giggle. Fixing him a stern look, you distract him from touching you up by ripping the bag open and showing him what’s inside.

“You made these?”

Shrugging, you explain, “There’s a crocheting society. I joined it so I could spy on the president because apparently, she’s been sleeping with a professor. I thought it would make for a good story.”

“Was she?”

You shake your head. “No. But she was sleeping with her cousin, so that was interesting.”

Toji snorts.

“That happens way too damn often on this campus.”

“It really does!” You agree, with a look of disbelief. “Someone needs to do something.”

He comes up behind you, arms wrapping around your body and chin resting on your head as you both watch Megumi sleep soundly. It hurts your heart to think that the only fun the kid gets is when Toji finds the time and the opportunity to steal him away once in a while. And it hurts your heart even more to know that they have to say goodbye and wonder when the next time will come, if there’ll even be one.

Toji hums. “Kinda jealous he gets to have those all to himself.”

“You would have had them f you didn’t whore yourself out, Fushiguro.”

He gropes your breast in apology.

Placing the two handmade toys beside Megumi, you smile as he clutches them subconsciously, holding them close and inhaling deeply. Finally, the scene looks right. A child shouldn’t be without a toy, and from now on, he won’t be alone.

Because, in his hands are two dogs, black and white, who’ll protect him from all that’s bad in the world now that they’ve been introduced to each other. Together, they’ll find a way to free him so that he can be with his real family. It might not be today or tomorrow, but eventually. It’s not good enough but it’ll have to. That’s what they both deserve.

“Wanna fuck in the bathroom?”

“Toji! Can you keep it your pants for one fucking second? Like seriously!”

#modern au

472 notes · View notes