#he deserved nothing but happiness and he got nothing but sorrow 😭😭

[wildsaltair]

do y’all ever think about how Maximus’ main joys are things that involve creating and nurturing life? he’s a farmer who loves tending crops. he’s a husband who adores his wife and probably wanted to have more children eventually. he’s a father who adores his son and wants to raise him. his leadership techniques are encouragement and kindness. he treasures the lives of family, his men, and even his enemies to a certain degree.

and still, he is constantly expected to kill and destroy simply because he’s good at it. I can imagine he joined the army because, like most young boys, he saw the glory and excitement of it. he’s a natural born killer with his foresight in battle and his ability to size up opponents in an instant. he’s brilliant at what he does.

but. that’s not what makes him rise in the ranks everywhere he goes.

as a soldier, it’s obvious he’s won the respect and loyalty of his men because he is honest, devoted, and caring toward them. he does not cast them into battle as pawns; he rides alongside them and supports them as equals in battle. Marcus wants him to be the next Emperor because he knows Maximus’ nature is not to be power-hungry.

even as a gladiator, it’s his refusal to kill Tigris that really puts him over the top in favor with the people. they love him for his ability to kill, but even more for his choice not to. he befriends his fellow gladiators instead of seeing them as obstacles to his freedom. he treasures the memory of his family by carrying their statues with him everywhere he goes. his last act of killing Commodus is not just to get revenge and set the city to rights — it’s protecting and nurturing the life of a little boy who reminds him of his own son, the grandson of the man he thought of as his own father.

and I just think there’s something so powerful in the way everyone recognizes Maximus’ humility and kindness and mercy just as much as his courage, prowess in battle, ferocity, etc. he stands out because he doesn’t glory in killing, he doesn’t relish in destroying lives. he mourns life lost. he longs to live peacefully and foster life.

how tragic? that it’s people’s obsession with his natural skillset that prevents him from doing what he wants most?? Marcus won’t let him go home, Commodus won’t let him go home, Proximo forces him to kill, the mob loves him when he kills.

and how ironic? that they all recognize his goodness and refuse to let him live accordingly? how ironic that all he wanted to do was be kind and the people who recognized that still forced him to be harsh?

[leighsartworks216]

Prompt for whenever you want it: the reader grew up in a household where she wasn't allowed to be very feminine/like cute things. Her family was adamant that she be tough and that anything remotely feminine or pretty would be wasted on her. So she secretly likes cute and pretty things, but has internalized all the things her family told her so she never let's it show. I would love to see astarion pick up on it and how he would react? I just imagined one day he presents her with a delicate handkerchief with her initials (he embroidered them himself) and I practically bawled my eyes out 😭😭😭

Idk why I really struggled to write this one. I just had a hard time starting it. So I'd write an opening, hate it, leave it for a bit, come back, leave it again. But I finally got it to a point that I am happy with it

Astarion x fem!Tav/Reader

Warnings: vague references to trauma, self-doubt, swearing

Word Count: 1,041

Main Masterlist

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

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One gets quite good at reading people when that’s all you did for 200 years. Someone would twitch and Astarion could know exactly what they were thinking. Reading you was as easy as opening a book.

Every time you passed a market or merchant, Astarion could see the way your eyes flit longingly over jewelry or dresses. It was always brief. If the vendor noticed, they’d try pitching the item to you; the same old lines: “A beautiful necklace for a beautiful lady!” But you just smiled politely and shook your head, muttering how it wasn’t your style.

It was curious. Throughout your journey so far, he’d noticed other things, too. How you’d save the most beautiful, feminine dresses for your female companions. At first he just thought you wanted to give them something nice, but it was odd when you’d provide them an item much more suited to your strengths than their own. How your eyes would linger a little longer on flowers and lace gloves. But the moment you felt eyes on you, you’d turn away, the distant longing gleam in your eye replaced with a set determination.

He’d even caught you staring at the embroidery on his clothes once or twice.

(“Distracted, are we?”

“I was only wondering what it says. An odd poem for a shirt.”

“Hmph. Clearly it’s meaning is lost on you, darling.”)

So, with 200 years of experience, Astarion came to the only conclusion he could plausibly find. He accounted for your own attire - masculine or purely functional - your steadfast avoidance of anything feminine, the sorrow that visibly washed over you when you came across something particularly beautiful.

You didn’t allow yourself these things, because you couldn’t.

Well, you could, he supposed. But you weren’t. Perhaps, like him, you felt you didn’t deserve it. Or perhaps, like him, it had been ingrained into your very being that you couldn’t have it. Either way, the result was the same.

He wasn’t honestly sure what came over him when he realized. And it had taken him a few days to think about the idea that formulated unbidden, itching at the back of his mind in a way that put the tadpole to shame. But one night, after feeding (on you and a boar), he sat within his tent and got to work. He threaded the eyes of needles with practiced ease, steadily guided it back and forth through the material in his hands, creating elegant shapes. If he was being honest, it was some of his best work.

It took him even longer to gather the nerves to give it to you. You handed out gifts freely - armor, weapons, trinkets, blood. But he’d… well, he’d never really given anyone a gift before. Nothing as genuine as this, certainly. His mind, his own worst enemy aside from Cazador, kept plaguing him with thoughts of how you’d hate it. How you’d take one look at it, struggle through a smile, and tuck it away at the bottom of your bag. And so it remained in his belongings, safely hidden.

And then you just had to go and be so damn good. You just had to stand up to Araj Oblodra when she kept insisting he drink from her. You just had to quietly tell him that he could, if he wanted to, but only if he wanted to. And you just had to respect his choice. He’d never been so overwhelmed with emotion before. Nobody had ever done that for him. His choices didn’t matter, his comfort didn’t matter. But you didn’t even hesitate.

When you sought him out at camp later that night, you even told him he was free. No longer a slave who had to get on his back for mere breadcrumbs. Too many emotions - relief, fear, euphoria, worry, gratefulness - flooded his chest.

He cleared his throat. “There’s actually something I’ve been meaning to give you,” he admits with a nervous chuckle. “Consider it a… thanks, for what you did for me back there.”

He pulled the neat, white handkerchief from his pocket and presented it to you. Red eyes flit over your face, trying to read every little expression that passed, as you stared at the cloth. On the corner, embroidered in the same golden thread as he used on his shirt, were your initials. Immaculate and shiny.

Your mouth opened. Your eyes were wide, your brow furrowed and then raised. You struggled for words. You met his eyes with shock. “A-Are you sure? I mean, this is much too fine for me - I was happy to stand up for you - Not that you needed any help! I mean-”

“Darling,” he hushed. So you did enjoy it, after all. “It’s a gift. Consider it repayment for all the nights you’ve bared your neck for me, if nothing else. A simple exchange.”

A dying sound left your throat with a breath as you looked back down at the handkerchief. With shaky hands, you took it from him. You held it as though it was a religious artifact from the gods, not a folded square of soft silk with lace borders. It had the same smooth feel as running your fingers over the surface of still water. Tears welled at the corner of your eyes as you ran a thumb over the letters.

“I…” You took a shaky breath, looking up at him again through the building water in your eyes. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”

He smirked, though your blatant joy made his lips twitch into the start of a genuine smile. “You… deserve something nice. Something more than, well,” he gestured vaguely at your worn cotton attire, “this.”

You laughed and brushed away the tears beginning to slip down your cheeks with the back of your hands. “You’re still a bastard.”

“Oh, undoubtedly.”

“But a nice bastard.”

“Careful, darling.” He leaned forward with an even wider smirk, fangs peeking out as a mischievous twinkle glinted in his eye. “We wouldn’t want word getting out.”

And if he caught sight of that little cloth poking out from a pocket or resting at the top of your bag, well maybe he let himself enjoy that warmth in his chest.

---

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[randoimago]

Castlevania for the Ask Game please <3

Had to do a little digging to find it again, but thanks Anon! This is specifically about the Netflix show as the only Castlevania games I played were Aria of Sorrow and Dawn of Sorrow on DS

Also I haven't watched Nocturne yet, but from what little I know, I'm gonna be sad 😔

Ask Game Here

3 male characters I love: Alucard, Hector, Isaac (Trevor came close for this list, but he's not broken enough)

3 female characters I love: Sypha, Lenore, Lisa (Lisa girlbossed and married Dracula, the monster lover in me respects her)

3 romantic ships I love: Trevor/Alucard/Sypha (just every iteration of those three rather it's just trevor/alucard or sypha/alucard or all three like I mentioned), Dracula/Lisa, Striga/Morana

3 platonic dynamics I love: Trevor/Alucard (yes I ship them romantically, but I also like shipping them platonically too depending on the mood, I enjoy the brotherly dynamic), Dracula/Isaac (the way he pushed Isaac through the portal to save him 😭),

3 favorite moments in canon:

Every Sypha moment tbh, I love her so much. She's a queen. She's the epitome of Chaotic Good and I love that for her. ("Where did you land the castle?" "Right on top of us :D"

"Eat shit and die." "Yes, fuck you" lives in my head rent free. Trevor/Alucard are great, I love them, enemies to frenemies to friends to lovers

The conversation in season 1 between the Bishop and that demon that enters. "God is not here. This is an empty box." "Lies? In your house of God?" so many chills. I wish the Bishop got a worse death, but hey, I'll take these awesome scenes.

3 favorite headcanons:

That Alucard either traveled with Trevor/Sypha or they tried to visit more often and that the twins thing never happened cause Alucard deserves happiness 😭

Alucard being a happy uncle to Trevor and Sypha's kid. Nothing bad every happens to any of them and they can live out their found family dynamics perfectly.

Imagining Alucard being such a great father figure to a lot of kids in his village. Just the little things he'd do. Townspeople watching the half-vampire, son of Dracula, running around and pretending to fail at Tag or Hide and Seek just for some kids to be happy. It's adorable.

3 least favorite things about it:

That season 1 is so short, but I think the reason is cause Castlevania was one of Netflix's first animation things and they wanted to see if people liked it? Idk, I just remember watching season 1 back when it was first on Netflix and going "That's it??"

I kind of wish there was more Hector moments. Isaac got like all the character development juice while Hector felt like he was constantly thrown in the mud. Idk, I just felt like he could've been much cooler if he wasn't just a way to show how scary Carmilla and her sisters are, even if he did eventually do some scheming.

The fact that it's only 4 seasons. I know there's Nocturne, but it feels like a thing where if a Netflix show is confirmed to have a last season, they'll put a huge thing in the last episode and then we'll just have to sit and wonder. I loved the show, I want it to at least have another season 😔

[averycutesalamander]

ok hi i have a lot of Thoughts and apparently all of it didn’t fit in the tags (like half of it got deleted so i had to retype 😭) but WHATEVER here you go. under the cut because it's kinda long

yandere content is most compelling to me when it's a matter of sharp contrasts, yknow?? their deep obsession and possessiveness in conflict with their yearning to see the love of their life happy and content.. the fight between their core values and their desire.. there’s just a lot of directions it could go, even without the aspects of genuine psychological or physical torture.

anyway. i imagine boothill to be a surprisingly gentle yandere, especially in this context. he gives you your own space, lets you buy your own things and whatnot. surprisingly respectful of your privacy. gives you alone time if you ask (nicely) for it. he always dances perfectly on the lines of your discomfort in a way that never QUITE manages to upset you, but doesn't quite feel right - like he's testing what you respond to, what softens you, what he can get away with.

he's so fiercely protective that he could never hurt you even if he could “justify” it in some fucked up way. he's never angry if you get pissed at him for basically keeping you captive, either; he just gets this sad kicked dog look and goes, “alright, honey. i get it.” he doesn't punish you or lash out at you or anything. just gets this somber look on his face and takes every drop of vitriol or sorrow that you throw at him, because he knows he deserves it. and somehow that makes YOU feel guilty?? bc he's just standing there all crestfallen and mournful and apologetic (but not apologetic enough to free you). he's, like, VIVIDLY aware of the fact that what he's doing is wrong, but he can't convince himself to let you go. 

i think eventually stockholm syndrome would take hold and you'd fall into a relationship with some truly bizarre power dynamics. like, he loves you so deeply that he wants to cave to your every whim, but he's actively at war with his urge to protect you, and you love him so much that you've basically already forgiven him and have learned to handle his hovering, but you ARE a human being and not a pet, so you have to push in some way or another to keep a morsel of independence. or maybe that’s just me lol. can’t resist his sad wet cat energy.

he's so kind about it all that it's extremely easy to fool yourself into thinking that you're on some whimsical space adventure with your overprotective boyfriend. like "yeah dont worry about it hahaha, he's just a little protective :)" meanwhile he's looming right behind you and glaring lethally at everyone who dares to look at you just a little too long. the longer you behave, the more lax he'll become. he'll take you on more and more outings, cave to more and more of your whims, that sort of thing. he lets your leash get pretty damn long - but a leash is still a leash.

now, in regards to escape, im gonna be real here-

don't even fuckin bother. im serious. when i tell you that this man will FIND YOU, with NO EXCEPTIONS, i mean it. best bet you've got is probably finding some way to shelter on the astral express, but he'll catch wind of it eventually, and when he does, there isn't a single goddamn person in the galaxy that can keep him away from you. you're coming with him whether you like it or not.

and when he lays eyes on you again, you feel like a trapped rat that's just been spotted by a rabid terrier.

he hauls you back to the ship without a word, his expression cold and distant in a way that feels almost militant. and this is the only circumstance under which he'll punish you, but maybe not in a way you'd expect.

he leaves you alone. he doesn't say a single word to you. he leaves your meals by your door and goes out on missions like nothing even happened. he's so unmoved by it all that it actually starts to freak you out, like you're waiting for the other shoe to drop - but it never does. it's only when the isolation starts to get to you that you realize what he's doing.

you crawl back to him, inevitably - you're only human - and when you do, he's all smiles and easy reassurances, disturbingly placid. "it's alright, buttercup," he says. "i know ya didn't mean it."

(the worst part is that you honestly can't tell if he believes it or not.)

he forgives you gradually. (he can never stay mad at you for long.) so long as you stay well-behaved, he steadily rewards you with all the little privileges he took away - taking you on outings again, bringing you little gifts, things of that sort.

and if you take advantage of his trust again? if you try to signal for help, or seek refuge with someone else, or - god forbid - try to sell him out to the IPC?

he finds you again, and when he looks at you now - for a heartbeat, you genuinely think he's going to hurt you.

he doesn't, of course. (he loves you, doesn't he?) but when he drags you back to the ship this time, he sets you down on your bed with a smile that's all teeth.

"you're confused, sweetheart," he says, and perhaps it would've been soothing if not for the lethal edge to his gaze. "it's okay. but i have to make sure you stay safe, alright?"

he fixes a collar around your neck - a ring of dark steel, just heavy enough to nag at you, just tight enough to serve as a reminder. a tracking chip is embedded in the metal, he tells you. engraved across the front is "property of boothill - return if lost."

the latch clicks with a sense of finality.

"there we go. now it won't be so hard to find ya if ya get lost again, yeah?"

...perhaps it's best to behave. keep pestering him, after all, and it might be some time until you touch solid ground again.

pls write yan!boothill OMG WHO SAID THAT

ohoho....!! i must confess that im quite picky when it comes to yandere content, bc i don't particularly like the extreme end of the spectrum. physical violence and straight noncon in particular don't click for me (absolutely no shade to people who like that tho, you do you!!) buuuuuuut ..... i mean, im the one writing?? so i can do whatever i want??? so alright here you go :) also check my reblog for.. a lot of rambling lmao

may i present to you: my interpretation of boothill in love, but he has a few too many screws loose. warning for relatively vague descriptions of violence and, uh... yandere stuff. you know how it goes.

In all honesty, Boothill is not a "love at first sight" type. His attraction to you is a gradual, budding thing, built over many repeated encounters. He's emotionally isolated himself, after all - built a wall thick enough to muffle the whispers of his past, smothering it in a slurry of rage and sorrow. It'll take time for him to let down his guard for long enough to even register the feelings you conjure in him - a flutter in his chest every time you smile at him, a spark of joy every time he makes you laugh, a strike of fondness every time he looks at your pretty face when you aren't paying attention.

And beneath it all, a low, simmering greed, a hunger, a yearning; the urge to bite and devour and never let go.

The pressure builds with time, as the two of you grow closer. He visits often, though not so often that it would catch the IPC's attention. You laugh and joke and tease, playfully flirting with him yet keeping a healthy, platonic distance. (He very pointedly and stubbornly ignores the way his heart soars when you look at him like that - like you want to pull him into your bed and let him take you apart, piece by ruinous piece. It's just harmless fun, after all.)

(Right?)

Despite the yawning fractures in the wall he's created, despite the increasing complexity of his feelings for about you, he still hasn't untangled whatever complicated web of feelings that's arisen around you, content to leave himself oblivious for the time being - until you make a joke about him marrying you and sweeping you away on some bizarre galactic adventure, and he damn-near bluescreens.

(He hates, hates, hates that the first thing he feels is something adjacent to the feeling a cat gets when it finally corners a particularly unruly mouse, akin to the thrill he gets whenever an enemy exposes a weakness. A sick, twisted kind of satisfaction.)

His mind churns as the wall cracks, wavers-

...and crumbles.

He panics. He makes a flimsy excuse about getting a notification through his neurochip, about needing to help out a fellow ranger - and he feels even better worse when you believe him unhesitatingly, sending him off with a sweet little "Be safe!" just as you always do.

It's only after he leaves the planet that he thinks about how much you've grown to trust him, about how damn gullible you are, about how often you give him the benefit of the doubt, about how kindly you've always treated him in spite of (or perhaps because of) his dozens of strange quirks. Everything unravels, threads spilling from his fraying mind and spilling between his fingers, and when the tattered fabric settles-

He simply can't deny it. He's in love with you.

It takes some time for him to piece himself back together - weeks of complete silence from him, your texts going unanswered. Every time he sees a fresh notification from you, his heart twists with guilt - but he's not ready to face the music. Not yet.

He comes crawling back to you, sooner or later. He knocks on your door with the most sheepish, guilt-ridden look on his face that you've ever seen, a rich bouquet laden with yellow roses and purple hyacinths tucked timidly in his arms. He lies about why he left - says it was all because of a mission that got more complicated than it should have, and it wasn't safe to reply to your messages - but when he tells you that he's sorry, he means it genuinely.

He's a bit disturbed by the sensation in his gut - that foul, wicked satisfaction when you accept his apology with barely a slap on the wrist, cheerily inviting him inside to catch up. You tuck the flowers neatly into a vase, chatting easily with him as you carefully arrange them.

"It's alright!" you say, waving dismissively at him when he murmurs another apology. "I know you're busy. I can't be your biggest priority, obviously. You've got more important things going on."

(You don't have a clue how wrong you are.)

He integrates back into your life like he never left. When he has the time, he sneaks his way back onto your planet, knocking on your door or searching for you in your usual spots. You get impossibly closer; your playful flirting goes from blatantly humorous to something foggier, something more ambiguous, teasing the line between platonic and something heavier. He matches you step by step, returning your advances with just a little extra spice, his eyes a bit darker and his smile a bit wider.

He tries to be patient - god, does he try - but there's an itch that's bloomed beneath his metal, impossible to scratch, impossible to sate, made worse by every little joke you make about kissing him or touching him or marrying him or letting him spirit you away. The pressure builds further and further, the tension winding tighter and tighter, the anticipation bubbling higher and higher.

(He will never, ever admit that he truly contemplates stealing you away, crowding you onto a ship and carting you off so he can always keep an eye on you, can always guarantee your safety. His paranoia has been building since he recognized his feelings for you; it's taken every ounce of restraint in his body to stop himself from giving into the urge, from crowding you, from suffocating you, from locking you away like a fragile songbird in a cage.)

(He's torn between his protectiveness and his understanding that you deserve freedom. You deserve independence and a life that isn't tied directly to him. He doesn't even know if you return his feelings. But...)

(But there's that nagging feeling in the back of his head, that pestering little voice that grows louder by the day. You'll be safer with me, it says, dark and tempting, bursting behind his teeth. I can make you happy. I can keep you safe. I can show you pieces of the universe that you've never seen before. I can love you like no one else ever could. I can hold you and cherish you and consume you and-)

(He takes that little voice and wraps his hands tight around its throat, frantically trying to suffocate the noise, terrified by its allure. But it's always there, lingering, lurking - because the call is coming from inside the house.)

Something gives, eventually.

When he inevitably breaks, his lips crashing heatedly and messily into yours, there are two paths ahead - but the difference is ultimately moot, because they collide not long after.

Perhaps you reciprocate. Perhaps you melt against his lips, your arms coiling around his shoulders and drawing him further into you. Perhaps you whimper when his hands trail downward, squeezing at your hips. Perhaps you pull away with a gasp, your pupils blown wide, your heart pounding when you see the look in his eye - dark and hot and desperate and hungry. Perhaps you accept his quiet declaration of affection with open arms, returning it in full, your eyes sparkling with joy.

Or perhaps you reject him. Perhaps you freeze like a startled deer before pushing him away, your face slack with shock. Perhaps you apologize, stumbling over your words, your heart thundering in your chest when you see the look in his eye - dark and cold and empty and hungry. Perhaps you gently tell him that you don't feel that way about him - that you only see him as a friend.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter.

...Because Boothill - careful, meticulous Boothill - has slipped up, and the IPC finds you.

After he leaves next, whether that be with a broken heart or a giddy one, a trio of IPC employees pluck you up from the street in broad daylight, shoving you into a dark transport ship for "questioning." And once they bring you to an IPC space station, they do indeed question you - though it feels more like an interrogation, considering that you've been tied ankle-and-wrist to a chair like you're a dangerous serial killer and not a regular civilian.

"Suspected colluding with the criminal known as Boothill," your "interviewer" tells you flatly, idly thumbing at the knife in their hand. "Camera footage, reports from neighbors, records from his Synesthesia Beacon... All clearly show that he has made repeated visits to your planet and your home. We're in the business of knowing why."

Perhaps you keep your mouth shut and refuse to divulge anything, no matter how close that knife gets to your bare skin. Perhaps you break when it begins to slice into your flesh, drawing blood from your body and tears from your eyes and stuttered words from your lips. Perhaps you grit your teeth and bear it, unwilling to betray the man you've grown so fond of.

Or perhaps you cave immediately. Perhaps you sell him down the river the first chance you get, frantic explanations spilling from your lips. Perhaps you tell them that you had no idea he had such a massive bounty on his head. Perhaps you panic when they find the information insufficient and draw the knife on you anyway, deaf to your begging and pleading as they wet your skin with blood.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter.

...Because a distant explosion rocks the entire space station, and the flashing lights from the silent alarms interrupt your interrogation.

You're left alone when the IPC agent flees, locking the door behind them with a heavy clunk. Minutes pass as you fumble desperately with your restraints, your body pulsing with pain; a cacophony of gunshots and screaming penetrates the thick walls, growing louder and louder, your heart pounding faster and faster.

There's a noise just outside the door - a horrifically wet noise, like raw flesh on tile. You freeze like a rabbit that's just heard the panting of a starving wolf, far too close for comfort.

Silence. Your head aches from the flashing red lights.

Suddenly, steel fingers wedge into the gap between the locked door and the wall, single-handedly tearing it open and breaking the hydraulic lock with inhuman ease. Metal crunches and squeals, piercing the quiet - and there he stands, right in the doorway, a silhouette of black and red.

Never in your life have you seen him this manic.

His white hair drips with scarlet and his teeth are bared; his eyes are alight with rage, a shock of bright crimson among the dark smears of blood and viscera that coat him head to toe. In the light of the alarms, he looks like the perfect picture of a killer from a horror movie; violence and slaughter, just waiting to be unleashed. When his gaze locks onto you, there is a long moment of utter stillness; instinctual terror floods your entire body in a cold flash, because there isn't so much as a glimmer of humanity in those eyes - only pure, boiling, ravenous, frantic anger.

For a heartbeat, you're convinced he's going to rip you apart with his teeth.

Then, as if he finally registers who you are, the madness evaporates, replaced by a nearly manic sort of relief. He rushes to your side, looking you over; you don't miss the flash in his eyes - seething, smoking fire - when he spots your injuries. In the same breath, he snuffs it out, focusing instead on breaking your binds with his bare hands.

You're already crying when he takes you up into his arms, cradling you close to his chest and unwittingly smearing IPC blood onto you. "It's alright, sweetheart," he murmurs, soft and reassuring, a beacon of comfort in a sea of terror. "I'm right here. I've got ya. No one's ever gonna take ya from me again, okay?"

(Maybe if you weren't in shock, you'd be startled by his words. As it stands, though, they're like music to your ears, like a warm blanket settled over your shoulders, like a tight hug from someone you trust with your life.)

He encourages you to press your face into his shoulder - mercifully free of blood - as he carries you through the carnage he's left in his wake, the jangle of his spurs and your muffled sobs echoing through the silent halls. Your entire body shivers at the noise of him stepping into some unidentifiable slurry of viscera, and he thumbs at your back in an effort to soothe you, speaking quietly into your ear about everything and nothing.

Time passes in a blur of tears. He takes you to the ship he, uh... commandeered to get here, ducking into the bathroom and settling you gently - so very gently - onto the floor. Or, rather, he tries to - because your fingers are frozen stiff in his jacket, your grip unrelenting.

"You just wait here for a sec, alright?" he whispers softly, the chill of his hand settling lightly against your wrist; the blood there still feels warm to your delirious mind. "Gotta get the autopilot started, okay? I'll be right back."

You're both surprised when you shake your head insistently, your eyes wet and pleading. In an instant, he softens, his heart aching in his chest.

"Alright, sweetpea," he breathes, carefully picking you up again. "I've got ya."

He keeps you cradled to his chest as he walks to the cockpit, holding you easily with one arm as he gets the ship moving. Reinforcements are on the way, no doubt - but you'll both be long gone by the time they get here.

(Maybe the IPC will get the message when they find the scene he's left behind - when they view the camera footage and see the rampage he went on. Decapitation and disembowelment is a new one, even for him...)

(...but he needed to make it clear that no one, no one, touches what's his and gets away with it.)

When the engine is purring beneath his feet and the rumble of FTL travel is humming in the walls, he brings you back to the washroom and settles you to the tile again, gently untangling your grip from his jacket. You're in shock, he's sure, so he's careful to continue talking to you as he wets a towel with warm water, murmuring soft reassurances as he wipes the blood from your skin, handling you like you're glass.

Once you're clean, he messily towels himself off to get the worst of the mess off, then brings you to the captain's quarters, digging around in the closet to find something comfortable for you. Your shaking fingers cause you trouble, so he gently eases your ruined clothes off, his eyes respectfully averted as he helps you redress. He takes one look at the messy, used bedding and promptly decides to change the sheets. (Something within him stirs and snarls at the thought of you smelling like anyone else.)

Finally, when all is said and done, he eases you beneath the covers, brushing away the last remnants of your tears. His heart is torn between singing with joy and aching with pain when you reach up and take his hand in yours, your fingers wrapping tight around his.

"Gotta go wash up, honey," he murmurs, watching you closely as you sink into the protective huddle of the blankets, exhaustion painting your features. "That alright? I'll be fast."

(He tries very hard to ignore the flutter in his chest from the look in your eye - like you're genuinely considering whether or not you need to stay near him, like you aren't sure if you can bear the distance.)

(He also tries very hard to ignore the little pang of disappointment when you slowly nod, releasing his hand.)

He cleans himself up with record efficiency, resigning himself to wearing clothes that are a size or two too small until he can wash his usual outfit. The clothes are for your sake, really; it's not like he has any, uh... equipment to expose - not yet - but he's relatively sure that it would make you uncomfortable anyway.

By the time he steps lightly into the room again, you're asleep.

For a long, long moment, he's struck stupid by the sight of you, by the softness of your face in rest.

Fuck, you're beautiful. He knows it in his heart, feels it in his core, senses it in his chest - you're the prettiest little thing he's ever seen.

(And you're all his, now.)

His fists clench, and he swallows down the thought like bitter poison. (You deserve better than this - better than him. He's a broken man, he knows - a messy reconfiguration of a thousand corpses, glued together by hatred and grief. He could never love you the way you deserve. He could never-)

He's broken from his rapidly spiraling thoughts when you twitch, a tiny furrow appearing in your brow. A surge of emotion nearly bursts in his chest - the urge to comfort, to protect, to soothe - and he slowly circles to the other side of the bed, climbing into the empty space and settling beneath the blankets. Hesitantly, he wraps one arm lightly around your waist, drawing you against him with your back pressed tight to his chest.

His heart soars when he feels you instantly relax, the tension fleeing your body.

(It's fine. This is fine. He'll make everything better. No matter what he has to do, who he has to kill, he'll make everything better.)

A handful of days pass like that. When he stops by a market to get supplies for you, he gently tells you that it's best for you to stay in the ship for now; odds are that you actually have a bounty on your head as well, now.

(He's not wrong - but he also doesn't need to disable the button on the inside of the ship that opens the exit hatch. You don't need to know that; he doesn't need to acknowledge that.)

As time passes, he tries not to suffocate you, tries not to hover, wary of putting you under any more stress - but it's ultimately a useless task.

When you finally, tentatively ask him about going home, his brain goes numb, the world snapping into sharp focus. He turns his gaze to you, disturbingly absent of emotion.

"It ain't safe for ya there, now that those IPC dogs know to look for ya," he says, his voice far too even.

When tears begin to bud in your eyes, it finally sweeps up some sympathy in his chest, his entire face softening. He takes your shaking hands in his, tenderly grazing your knuckles with his thumbs.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he rasps, reaching up to wipe away your tears.

(He's barely sorry.)

"I don't like it either, but..."

(Yes, he does.)

"It's safest for ya to stick with me, alright?"

(Wishful thinking. He could find somewhere for you to stay - some quiet planet outside of the IPC's reach, where you could live without worry. He could send you credits regularly. He could make sure you were happy and secure, independent of him.)

(He could. He should.)

(He won't.)

[lightlycareless]

First, it hurts— Chapter X

Summary:

Naoya Zen’in x Fem!Reader

While arranged marriages are not uncommon in the jujutsu community, it was strange to receive a proposal from none other than the Zen’in’s, nonetheless your clan accepted and before you knew it, you were married off to Naoya.

Your new purpose was clear: to serve and submit, to be seen and not heard. To forget any sense of individuality in favor of obeying your husband.

Will this marriage ever flourish into something else? Will it change…for better or for worse?

Chapter warnings: mentions of abuse, violence, suicide, misogyny, somewhat disrespecting authority, and a bit of spooky.

A/N: How exciting is to finally post a new chapter on my ao3!!! I’m a bit nervous, hehe, because it’s been a while since I wrote anything new so I feel like I actually got worse 😥...but I hope you’ll still find it enjoyable 🥺❤ 

Other thing I have to clarify is that I might have to skip a few updates on Sundays because I’m getting a bit busier with by business (most cons take place on weekends, as well as most of my time lol) but I will absolutely NOT abandon this story 🥰 so no need to worry about that! I’ll just let you know in advance if I won’t be able to update that weekend.

And of course, thank you for your support!!! Your comments, likes/kudos and reblogs motivate me to do better; I wish I could respond to all of them, but since I’m a side-blog I can’t do so (but if it’s ao3 I’m able to reply) 

I’ll never get tired of saying this, so I’ll say it again: thank you thank you thank youuuuu 😭❤❤❤

Now, here’s this weeks chapter! Happy reading 🥰

Masterpost ➸ Chapter 11.

Ao3 link.

You were like a dog being trained to follow its owner around in every direction.

Being constantly reminded by Naoya’s actions that you were nothing but an object for his desires, adding that Junko was to take care of you until you properly learned all your wifely duties, as if you were learning new tricks…wouldn’t that comparison be true?

And following that train of thought, just like the dog you felt compared to, you would be rewarded at the end of the day if you behaved like expected. Your treat —contacting your sister.

Hinata, the unexpected ray of hope that came into your life in the darkest of days, a promise of things changing for the better…was soon replaced by a storm when Naoya’s true intentions came to light. He never wanted you to contact her out of the goodness of his heart—no, he just wanted you to push her way and seal your fate as his.

You unconsciously wanted the former to happen; to believe that your family hadn’t abandoned you just yet. But your time at the Zen’in had slowly begun to corrupt you; all the bad things you saw in this house were beginning to seem normal to you, and you couldn’t help but think that your forced isolation was something you deserved in a way, beginning to question your sister’s character.

Would she accept Naoya’s intentions cloaked behind your words? Or would she refute them and confront him directly?

It was useless to dwell on the future when it wasn’t written on paper.

But there was only one thing you were sure about: you wouldn’t be able to speak to her without breaking down in tears.

In a way, you were grateful that Junko’s words would sometimes bring you back to the present. The thought of forcing your family to step back brought you so much sorrow, you began considering ending your life just to take the pain away. At least that way, you wouldn’t have to perform what would be your biggest sacrifice yet.

But at the same time, you wanted to see your sister one last time—hear her voice, know about your father and brother, to see if they were okay before you departed this world. 

Thus, you buried the urge to make a decision to occur after Hinata’s meeting. Whatever happened then, would affect the course of the remainder of your life.

For now, you had to continue your tour around the house.

You’ve already gone through the kitchen, the cleaning room, gardens and bedrooms—with the exception of one room, forbidden to enter , Junko said as the two of you passed by it’s door.

You thought Junko's diligence in bringing you to the bedrooms was a bit…odd, since you assumed you were only to serve as Naoya’s wife.

���You’re not below serving others if Naoya-sama allows it” She clarified, as if reading your mind. Her choice of words had to hold back the need to roll your eyes and comment on how noble your husband was being. 

Nonetheless, even when you were permitted to tend to Naoya’s brothers and uncles, you were prohibited from following them inside the training grounds and underground facilities.

This decision was the result of their misogynistic beliefs that no woman is capable of being a sorcerer. And if this thought wasn’t infuriating enough, it only worsened when Junko added that you weren’t even permitted to indulge in exercise to keep your body active.

“If you want exercise, cleaning around the estate should be more than enough”

You wanted to scream.

But at the same time, you were glad to not be permitted to enter said grounds. When passing by, curiosity got the best of you and your eyes darted to the open door, managing to catch a glimpse of the insides to finding none other than your husband and a group of men, the Hei unit, (you recalled Naoya telling you one day, back when you two were still at the ryokan and he wanted to seemingly boast of his successes during pillow talk) training.

They seemed to be taking a break, their chest shirtless and coated with a thin layer of sweat after completing a long routine. 

Your presence, mostly unnoticed for the most part, allowed you to take a longer look at their surroundings and the exercise equipment they carried; not interested in their physical attributes.

That is, until one of the Hei members caught a glimpse of your figure and rushed to inform his partner besides him. The commotion caused by their murmurs irritated Naoya and he swiftly turned around, after reprimanding them, to see who they were gossiping about, intentions of chastising them for distracting his team evident in his angered golden gaze, only to run silent when noticing it was you.

Your eyes locked onto one another for a few seconds, a silent battle of dominance to see who would look away first; but you had no intentions on sparring against him, and quickly looked away, continuing to follow Junko, who apparently didn’t notice —or cared— about this small interaction. 

Even when walking away, you still felt Naoya’s gaze on you, earning a twinge of shame as you tried thinking on anything else but the cocky smirk appearing on his lips you managed to see before looking away.

It didn’t take much for you to assume he was showing you off to his men after you left, his newest acquisition , cementing the ideal of his possession over you.

If spending time at the training grounds entailed spending more time with Naoya and earning unwanted attention from men, then you would happily quit training all together.

Yet, the underground facilities were the complete opposite.

Where in the training grounds you felt ashamed, in the underground you felt threatened.

There was something on the other side of the entrance that evoked an eerie feeling of danger when Junko and you passed next to it.

Perhaps it was the lock made out of talismans that had you on edge; you recognized the combination of seals and scriptures for being used to anchor curses to a specific area without sealing them, like moth to a flame. They were not hard to perform and any sorcerer with basic knowledge of seals could produce them.

Yet, there was an inconsistency with their placement.

These talismans were not recommended to use near humans, as they did not suppress the personality of the curses. This often leads curses to desperately reach out to any unsuspecting passerby, lure them in and latch onto them as possible sources of energy and brutally murder or posses them.

Those who managed to survive often recounted hearing murmurs in the voices of someone hurt, someone whose desperation would send chills to their spine and urge a sense of nobility to reach back and help, only to notice at last second that it was a ruse and end up attacked.

You remembered encountering seals like these in Aokigahara, during a mission you were sent to back when you were a student; this forest had a historical background of holding an unusual amount of ghosts since the very beginnings of Japan, thus, sorcerers found it necessary to do something to regulate the situation.

At first they tried exorcizing all of the curses. It was a direct solution, although a bit tedious, but it was something all sorcerers knew how to carry out. And it worked for a few months, attacks and victim numbers lowered. Everything seemed promising, until months later, the forest was inundated once more with yurei.

It didn’t take long to understand that Aokigahara was infested with an unusual amount of energy that often mesmerized victims who, not knowing any better or were not sorcerers, coerced them to enter the forest; these ghosts would then feast on their energy—never to be seen again. 

After much thought and pressure, the sorcerers created a plan: if they weren’t able to get rid of them, they could control them. Thus, they called all ghosts into strategic areas around the forest and kept them isolated with carefully crafted talismans—first of their generation. It was much easier than sealing them, since there was never an exact number of yurei currently residing inside the forest, nor how many were created each season, and much cheaper to maintain.

Their plan was received with a high percentage of success, and it became a generational task to have a sorcerer visit from time to time and check that everything is in order.

That task eventually fell into your hands.

You were sent during tourism season, where attacks would peak thanks to the rising amount of visitors—adding that the forest had also become morbidly interesting to foreigners during these last few years— to check the status of the talismans and change any seal that was broken, aside from creating a new screen to hide their location from civilians.

Whoever was in charge of performing the last checkup did a terrific job, all of the talismans were in great condition and the screen hadn’t deteriorated one bit. You returned back home disappointed, since you eagerly received this mission with the prospect of earning some kind of first-hand interaction with the curses, to see if one of them would try calling out to you and get a chance to prove you were much greater than their flimsy attempts to attack you.

That never occurred, of course; your amount of cursed energy plus skills got you removed from their list of potential victims (if they had one) and focus on someone else, unfortunately for them, it was no one.

Thus, you believed you would never hear them.

That is, until now.

At first it started as a whisper, a breathy voice calling out your name. You initially suspected it had been Junko, who perhaps was set to get your attention on an important matter,  and you raised your head, replying to her call. But she denied ever saying your name in the first place and continued to walk alongside the garden.

You blinked a few times as you listed the possible origins of that noise; had it been your ladies? They did reassure you they were to stay close, but the whisper didn’t sound like them, and the last time you saw them was at the kitchen, where they offered some snacks for you to take if you so desired—Junko swiftly swatting your hand away, like an angered cat protecting its food, and told you that you were to eat until dinner.

Your mind went to the rattling leaves of the nearby trees. Today had been a rather windy day and this could lead to people confusing the whistling noises of the wind combing through the branches as something else—but there laid the problem. The noise they made was more like a whistle, not a whisper. Thus, it couldn’t have been the wind.

“Y-Y/N” You heard again, this time much clearer; it was a combination of various male and female breathy voices layered one over the other, not a single tone familiar to you, but the portraying emotion blatantly evident: pain.

You looked around to see if it had been a servant, or perhaps one of Naoya’s men playing a trick on you, but nothing. You were completely alone, the woman accompanying you already far ahead, not noticing you had stayed behind—right by the locked door.

Your head carefully swirled towards the mysterious entrance as the voices who kept repeating your name began to merge with one another, the chorus diminishing by each passing second.

Forgetting these were curses, you unconsciously began to inch closer and closer to the door, in efforts of getting a clearer listen to whoever was calling you, effectively throwing all jujutsu teachings of not engaging a curse unless prepared, or at least, recognizing the curse first.

With your attention solely focused on the contents on the other side of the door, you eventually noticed the majority of voices had disappeared, with only 3 remaining, now 2…1…

“Help me!”

Realization hit you like a bucketful of ice as you finally recognized the owner of the voice.

It was you .

Stumbling backwards, your eyes widened as you placed your hand over your chest taking deep breaths in attempts to lower the intensity in which your heart was beating and regain control over your body. 

Sure, you’ve heard of experiences where people often hallucinated with themselves, whether seeing a physical representation of their figure or listening to their voice, but no amount of anticipation could prepare you for the real deal.

In efforts to subdue the horror and replace it with logic, your mind entered a state of disbelief as it began questioning the veracity of its surroundings.

The human body had never seen itself outside of reflections or pictures, there was a theory that if it was possible to do so, it would not recognize itself.

And that's exactly how you felt. You knew it was your voice, it sounded just like you after all; from the way you enunciated the vocals to the intensity of the tone, it was a carbon copy of your speech. But your mind failed to assimilate it was you .

How could it? Your conscience was in this body, your heartbeat was resonating in your ears and your blood was rushing through your body, slightly trembling at the threat before it. All signs that you were pretty much alive and real.

But your weakened state of mind, thanks to the abuse Naoya forced you to endure, alongside Mariya’s betrayal, Hinata’s absence and Junko’s indifference, had pushed you to warp your sense of reality, and you began to consider the possibility of perhaps…you were on the other side of the door.

Thus, your body shifted towards the direction of your voice and stepped forward, propelling your arm upwards, stretching your hand towards the metal lock hanging by the knob. No key necessary, just a bit of cursed energy would do the trick to make all the talisman come undone—

“Please—” your supposed voice ran hollow in the depths of your mind as you began concentrating a small amount of energy on the tip of your fingers. 

 “̝͇͍H̹̠͔e̬̭̠̹̖̯̘͠l̨̫͇̭͖̝p̟͕̠̝̕…̘̰͎̣̤̠̬͡u̳͉̮̰̯͕̟s͈͎̠…҉̙̭̝̱!̻”̰̜̮̹ͅͅ

 “Y/N!” Junko cried as she quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you back with an unforeseen strength no one would’ve thought her capable of due to her thin complexion. Her actions, fueled by frantic thoughts, were enough to snap you out of their illusion and realize the atrocity you were to commit.

Junko had kept a close eye on your every moment, trying to avoid a situation like this from occurring. Ironically, the one second she peeled her gaze from you, you went ahead and did the unthinkable. But instead of earning her concern, like a frightened mother who thanks to her fast reflexes managed to prevent a catastrophe, you earned her judgment—disappointment that painted you as a woman incapable of keeping her hands to herself or following orders. A strike against Naoya’s favor.

“You are to never enter those premises!” She yelled, her tone strict and demanding, and you felt minimized. Her eyes were painted with anger, her brow furrowed and a drop of sweat sliding down the side of her face out of frustration. But underneath that raging emotion, there was a subtle layer of fear. Not for you though, but for her own sake.

Junko was very aware that even if there was animosity between you and your husband, but, the moment you got injured and Naoya was made aware of it, she would be punished in a way that would never allow her to forget what got her in that predicament in the first place. 

Because, even if the two of you were married women, you held a position much higher than hers, and your value was greater.

“I-I’m sorry I just—I just heard something” words stumbling upon one another as you worked to explain your lack of tact, but she took no interest in your excuse.

“I don’t care!” Junko snapped as she continued to pull you away from the enigmatic entrance and headed towards the main wing, her grip on unrelenting—your hand turned from various shades of red, until it became white. Once Junko considered the area safe, she released her grasp on you—now fingers imprinted on your arm. “You’re never to enter those doors if you know what’s good for you”

“I—“

“Quiet!” She yelled, you froze. “Stop acting like a child! Naoya-sama has no use for a woman who won’t follow simple orders, so I advise you to start behaving like a proper wife!”

You didn’t have to be told twice to understand that your next words would be labeled as out of place. Thus, you swallowed and pushed down the cathartic need to tell her what you’ve experienced.

Instead, you looked down at the floor and closed your eyes, pressing your eyelids to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.

“I’m sorry” you gave one last murmured apology, which she did not acknowledge and simply turned around, ordering you to —this time— follow her closely .

From that moment forward, you felt guilt and fear accompany your every step. 

The woman who you cataloged as demure and soft spoken had a sudden shift of personality, and all thanks to your fault. Back when she was willing to look at you to corroborate you understood her words, now didn't even dare look at you.

You wanted to mend things, have her understand that it was a small incident, one that didn’t root from malicious intentions, but to no avail.

And her uninterest only heightened your sorrow.

Perhaps it was your warped sense of survival that led you to latch onto the smallest display of tranquility; any opportunity you could get to be at peace from others' misdeeds, you would desperately cling to it. 

Having been constantly bombarded with the reminder that you were not deserving of attention, her decision to extend the already prominent emotional distance between came to no one’s surprise, and you felt it was the bare minimum of what a proper punishment was.

Nonetheless, even with the amount of disappointment you found yourself drowning in, it was not enough to clear the lingering thought of your haunted experience .

It is one of those things that you only get to realize how serious they are until they happen to you. Only then one would understand the sheer horror others experienced.

Your mind ran through the same scenario over and over again, attempting to find the use the Zen’in could possibly give to those curses. No other clan had curses sealed so close to the nuclear home, let alone around civilians. They were located in the center of the estate for god’s sake! If it isn’t for training, then what is it for?!

The more you thought of it, the more paranoid you grew, to the point where you began to feel ovwheledbed by the sensation of being followed, alongside a pair of shadows that appeared at the corner of your eye. Your eyes darted to the last area you saw the dark figures, only to find nothing. You moved one, closer to your destination and you would see them again, only to seek them out receiving the same results. 

The idea of something latching onto you after your small encounter began to circulate your mind. But you should’ve seen it by now—right? Curses untraceable to the sorcerer's eye were uncommon, very rare to find, but not unheard of. Just what kind of threat did the Zen’in hide in the depths of their home?

By the time Junko stopped, you had failed to realize she’d taken you to the north wing of the estate, the area usually deployed for administrative and political matters, a place where no woman must be found. 

The woman silently guided you to a small room on the far right side of the wing.

“Wait here” She entered and shut the door behind her. Leaving you dangerously alone with your thoughts.

You looked around. The area was relatively quiet, with no servants or members on sight, except for the singing birds on the trees nearby and the fish by the pond. It was a silence and sight that would be delightful to anyone who wanted a moment of peace after a frantic day at work, but the downfall to someone who had their mind crowded with dark thoughts. 

If anything, this place was the center of all miseries, doomed futures and twisted men; women who had no place but below or behind them, alongside dangerous otherworldly creatures that had nothing but harm in their—  

  Thud thud thud

 Thoughts abruptly interrupted, everything around you seemed to go quiet, except for that sudden noise.

With the hair from the back of your neck standing up; your heart began to slowly regain it’s quick pace, beating heavily against your chest as another set of chills traveled through your spine.

In reality, the sound was soft enough to pass unnoticed, intermingled with the seasonal greetings of birds singing or water flowing in the pond before you, but due to your paranoid state of mind,  you managed to hear as if it occurred right next to you. 

You quickly pinpointed the origin of the commotion from around the corner; your eyes hesitantly moving to that direction held your breath as you tried to get a better listen.

  THUD!

 You flinched and your body quickly adopted a defensive stance by tensing its shoulders and clenching your fingers. 

This time, the noise was louder, closer to your position and by instinct, you immediately placed your back against the wall, attempting to minimize your presence and pass undetected from the possible perpetrator.

Silently and slowly, you began to inch closer and closer to the edge of the wall while attempting to place the pieces together—after briefly coming into contact with curses, shadowy figures began to make themselves present. Thus, it would be obvious to assume both incidents were complementary to one another, right? You had no proof, but previous experience in your short career as a sorcerer reminded you that lingering curses that were not properly dealt with often latched onto people and made themselves known by either playing with shadows or calling their name.

This was exactly what you were going through. It had to be a curse, there was no doubt!

Eventually, you came into contact with the other side of the wall and you took no time to scan around for any curses or traces of energy that could mean they were present, from fingertips to footsteps, any indications that meant you were not losing your mind and were, in fact, being tracked down.

Your mind didn’t have space to consider other scenarios, such as a small bird that had fallen from its nest when trying to fly for the first time, or a servant partaking in their duties.

Luckily for you, peace made its way to your psyche when, after a few seconds of observing, found nothing.

You sighed, fear escaping your body through a deep exhale.

Of course it was kind of silly to think a curse would’ve followed you; the Zen’in were brutes, but where not stupid when it came to jujutsu. Of course they wouldn’t allow a curse to stick around, running around like it owned the place, especially when there’s lots of civilians around.

It was refreshing to think you weren’t being followed—one less thing to worry about.

You sighed once more and closed your eyes in efforts to relax for a few seconds. Undoubtedly, stress was making its way to your mind and had you hearing, seeing things. You couldn’t wait for the moment Junko set you free from your responsibilities for the day and allowed you to rest again on your bed—alongside Naoya .

You frowned at the thought of sharing a bed with your despicable husband, and immediately shifted your thoughts to Hinata, the main reason why you were holding on.

Clearing your throat, you began to head back to your initial spot, wondering if Junko had finished doing whatever it was she was doing and what other places you’d—

  Creeeeeaaak

 Your eyes shot to the direction of the creak, and there, saw something that horrified you.

A small, pale hand had begun to creep from inside a nearby chamber. 

Your jaw clenched as the hand carefully placed it’s thin fingers around the shoji door and began to slide it open, agonizingly slowly—almost a millimeter per second.

Your heart’s continuous efforts— having not been able to catch a break— made your ears throb and your chest ache, making it even harder to focus on the impending danger before you. Your vision blurred as you realized there was indeed a curse nearby and you had neither the weapons nor the preparation to defend yourself, or Junko for that matter.

Mind galloping a thousand miles per minute, your body shifted back towards Junko’s direction, mind set on getting her away first, move her to somewhere safer, and inform Naoya there was a curse on the loose. You didn’t care if speaking to him would cause you to be berated later on, there was a civilian who needed protection, and your ethical code as a sorcerer was to protect those weaker than you, even if it cost you your—

“What are you doing?”

Junko’s face came way sooner than you expected, her presence stopping you dead on your tracks; but with no seconds to waste, you regained your purpose and swiftly grabbed her hand to pull her away, contrary to the direction of the pale hand.

“There’s a curse around the corner!”

“What ?”she replicated in disbelief.

“It’s true! You can’t be here, it’ll attack you first if it sees you” You continued to explain, each step becoming harder to take as Junko adamantly tried to free herself from your grasp.

“Unhand me this instant!”

“I can’t—I have to get you somewhere safe!”

“I don’t care!” She cried, and one harsh thug later, she was free from your hand. You gasped as Junko headed back to the spot where you saw the supposed curse, fueled by anger to prove you wrong.

“Junko-san, no, wait !” When she turned around the corner, your body ran cold as you began to imagine the worst. A woman like her, who had dedicated all of her life tending the work of a house, had no preparation to deal with threats like this; even when growing around people who did. If you didn’t intervene, she would suffer the worst way possible! You still had a few seconds to save her, you just had to get to her quickly, just around the corner—! “Junko!”

And then…nothing.

You expected to find a bloodied battlefield, pieces of her clothing scattered around the ground, perhaps a few limbs here and there if the curses opted to take part of her body; but no. Instead, you found a very angered Junko, far more upset that you’ve ever seen her. Red-faced, fiery gaze locked onto yours as she barely held back the desire to scream out her frustrations.

And the pale hand…gone. The shoji door closed.

“I–”

“Are you well, Y/N?”

You knew that tone very well, and embarrassment became apparent on your cheeks in the form of a red streak, making your face turn even brighter. It’s only then that you realized how ridiculous you must’ve looked, even if what you saw was true, and how distorted the image she had of you had become.

This couldn’t mean well once Naoya was made aware of this.

“I…I’m just tired” you murmured and looked away, your last attempt to persevere whatever of your sanity was left. You weren’t necessarily lying, since you haven’t been able to get a well deserved rest ever since you married Naoya, but you didn’t think stress had already influenced you enough to start hallucinating…or to get you acting frantically, like a recently-discovered sorcerer.

“Let’s—just continue with your duties” You don’t know what prompted Junko to keep her cool, but were grateful she decided to take a calmer route. 

But her reasoning was not one you would be fond of; the idea of pregnancy-induced stress flashed through her mind, inciting her to go easy on you this time. Nonetheless, she would now keep an even closer eye on you.

“There’s still one more thing to do” Junko said as she signaled you to the room where she previously was. You peered inside, where a small wooden table alongside a chair of the same material, stood in the middle of the room. And on top of it, just besides a lamp—a phone.

You didn’t think it was possible for your heart to drop even further into your stomach when you realized what it was time for, but with all things accounted for, why wouldn’t it?

Each time you were sent over the edge, your limit would expand, and that would allow your emotions to be overwhelmed at a higher frequency. At this point, it was a surprise you hadn’t gone through a heart attack.

And talking about your heart, which had gone through various peaks of stress throughout the day, now felt like it was on it’s last runs. Any second now , you mused, I’ll faint, and if I wake up…I don’t want to wake up .

But your survival instinct wasn’t one to give up easily, and by a miracle —even when your head started to become dizzy and your feet struggled to keep you up— you managed to walk over to the desk, where Junko had already picked up the phone from its base and handed it to you. If she noticed your illness, she did not comment.

“Naoya-sama already informed me of the reason for this call. If you try anything out of the ordinary, I’ll know and I won’t be afraid to put you on your place and let him know”

“That won't…be necessary” you breathed, trying to take in as much oxygen as possible for your brain to not blackout.

“We shall see” Looking down to the dial through blurred vision, you force yourself through the pain of pressing the combination of numbers pertaining to your home out of memory.

Junko observed carefully, wanting to make sure you weren’t calling any other number that could compromise their position and hummed in approval when the other line started beeping.

You swallowed as you psyched yourself to play the role of ditzy sister, one that didn’t mean to frighten by cutting all communication with her siblings but did so anyway without taking into consideration their feelings. One that would be of Naoya’s approval and obtain the meeting he desired to complete.

You were pushed through so many things at one, and this was only the beginning of your life as Naoya’s wife—could  it get any worse from here onwards?

The phone beeped a few more times than what either anticipated, and Junko began to think that perhaps they weren’t available at the moment.  

Preparing herself to take the phone away and ask you to try again later, she abruptly stopped when a voice came through the other side of the line.

A response that had the world stopping around you; as you prepared yourself to act the fool.

“L/N Residence?”

╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳

Hinata was someone many would consider unwavering and of strong character. Assertive —not afraid of calling out anyone on their wrong doings, but caring enough to show them how to do better.

Selfless and reliable. Whatever was asked of her, she would perform.

This led many to think of her as one of the most valuable sorcerers amongst the community, thus, forcing her to carry the highest number of missions per season.

And Hinata didn’t really care, in fact, she was more than happy to know that the jujutsu community trusted her to that extent. Never saying no to any request, even outside of formal missions. 

It was with this mentality that she considered perhaps, being selfish for once, would be forgivable.

Her sister and family were in dire need of help, and in order to do something, they needed all of her attention. Thus, she wrote a request to jujutsu headquarters, asking for her missions to be transferred to her brother, Ren, who was more than interested in helping her sister, also turned in a request to take on her missions in hopes to show how serious they were. 

Certainly, after all she’s done for the community, they would grant her this one favor, right?

Wrong

When a letter came back in response to her request, Hinata assumed she was granted permission and proceeded to excitedly open the envelope—only to rip it apart when she read the following contents.

  To whom it may concern.

  We are sorry to inform you that the request submitted by L/N HINATA was rejected.

We understand that this is the first time she has requested a change of this nature in her short—but impressive—career as a sorcerer, but due to the ongoing crisis of rising curse attacks, we find ourselves not being able to allow a single sorcerer to not carry out missions.

Nonetheless, we’ve come up with two solutions that we find might benefit your situation, and we hope you take them into consideration:

We will allow the maximum amount of 2 (two) missions to be transferred to another sorcerer of your choosing. (as long as they agree.) 

Submit another request in 6 months.

We also want to take this time to commend L/N HINATA’s continuous efforts on maintaining peace amongst civilians and sorcerers, as well as to congratulate her sister on her recent marriage.

We hope to continue receiving your aegis.

  Department of missions and expeditions, Tokyo, JPN.

Signed, Yoshimoto Osamu.

 “Rejected?!” Hinata yelled at the top of her lungs, disbelief and skepticism pouring through her words “What do you mean rejected?!”

“I’m—sorry” A servant, and her close confidant of hers, tried easing her nerves, but to no avail. Hinata was reasonably upset by their rejection, but what irked her the most was how they cheekily congratulated you for your marriage, as if it would lessen the blow.

“It’s fine, it’s not your fault, Sumire.” Hinata sighed, rubbing the sides of her temples with her fingers. “But can you believe this?! After all I’ve done for them, they can’t even grant me this one request. And they even dared congratulate Y/N for her disgusting union with that Zen’in brat—in what world do they live in?!” She added, waving the letter into the air before deciding on ripping it apart. Sumire collected the torn pieces of paper and threw them in a trash can nearby.

“I think it might be because she married a Zen’in. They’re very influential amongst the community, perhaps they thought congratulating her through you might earn them points in their favor”

“Hah! That has to be the dumbest thing I ever heard—no offense”

“None taken” she laughed back, knowing Hinata didn’t meant to insult her, but rather, the naivety jujutsu headquarters presented with that mentality “But I do know what you mean”

“...and Gojo isn’t any better” Hinata scowled “Suddenly, he’s also inundated with missions and can’t make time to see me; but sure, he can go out in his daily hook-ups with no problem”

Sumire kept quiet for a few seconds, analyzing one of the many reasons why Gojo now decided to keep Hinata away, but nothing came to mind. He could be mysterious that way, when he wasn’t being silly, of course. 

Instead, she decided to focus on a more serious topic, one that she’d constantly heard through the grapevine.

“Is the crisis really that bad?”

Hinata looked away, her thoughts back on to the last missions she’s completed and what they all had in common: Geto —or at least someone working under his name— was the author behind them.

After all, it had only been around 4 years since he decided to go rogue and disturb the jujutsu peaceful community—his actions left most of the sorcerers questioning what was holding them back from falling into villainy, if it weren’t by their moral standing, and more decided to join his cause.

The crisis many suspected would last around 2 years, started to lengthen by this same reason.

This put an enormous pressure on all that decided to stay behind and defend civilians—but Gojo, who had been the closest one to him, had to make the hardest decision.

Many didn’t consider the emotional turmoil he was going through, and instead of offering a supportive hand or empathetic words, simply dumped most of the responsibilities on him; being the strongest had its perks, but in this situation, it only seemed detrimental for him. This was one of the reasons Hinata and Ren decided to take on much more missions than usual, hoping that it would alleviate some pressure off his shoulders; yet trouble never seemed to rest, to the point where they went through months without being able to come back home.

If Sumire didn’t hear it from her, she would hear it from someone else. It was better for her to know via someone she trusted, in a more controlled environment.

“Yes; it’s been terrible”

Nonetheless, Hinata couldn’t help but think that many who had an evil seed in them, thought of the crisis as the right time to let out all of their frustrations. Could Naoya have taken advantage of this situation to hurt your family?

Sumire’s face contorted to fear and Hinata immediately regretted admitting the situation the jujutsu community found themselves in and rushed to calm her down.

“But don’t worry! We’ll manage. Ren is working very hard and—well, I shouldn’t be that angry that they rejected my request, I do have to care for my community after all. I’m sure Y/N would’ve understood” Hinata laughed nervously, trying to soothe Sumire’s worries with a bright grin. The servant nodded back in acknowledgement, suddenly remembering how strong the siblings truly were, a smile appearing on her lips as she really never had anything to worry about.

“What will you do now?” Sumire queried, tilting her head to the side, her big round eyes looking up to Hinata’s deep-in-thought face.

“I…guess I’ll take their proposal and assign 2 of my missions to Ren, it wasn’t what we agreed on, but it’ll give me some time to–”

“Sumire! Sumire!” A frantic voice followed by loud footsteps called from outside the room.

It didn’t take long before the author behind the calls soon came barging in through the door, spreading the shoji as far as possible and looking around the room for Sumire. “There you are, where is—Hinata-sama!”

“What’s wrong?!” Hinata exclaimed, reasonably concerned to see another servant, Hibiki, ruby-red faced and breathless. He leaned against the door, trying to catch his breath as he pointed to a spot outside the room.

“It’s—It’s Y/N! We got a call from her just now, she’s on the phone!” Hinata and Sumire exchanged surprised looks, and without further comments, the two rushed towards the room with the nearest phone—a wireless gray telephone placed on hold.

Hinata picked it from its base and held it against her right ear, urging Sumire to check if there were no unwanted bystanders and close the door. The last thing she wanted was for her father to casually wander through the halls (although he hasn’t moved much from his room since her confrontation, but at least he stopped drinking) or for the elders to catch ear of Y/N’s call and interfere with her investigation. Although the timing of the call was odd enough as it was…

Hinata took one last deep breath, before clicking on the hold button and greeted her missing sister. 

There was much catching up to do.

“Hello?”

“Hinata”

“Y/N! Where have you been? Are you ok? Is everything alright–”

“Yes! Yes, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to contact you before; but I’m here now” Her voice, although a bit distorted by the static from an old phone speaker, was clear enough to be interpreted as fearful. This only deepened Hinata’s concern. “Just busy getting accustomed to my new life, that’s all!”

“We were worried…you didn’t respond any of the messages”

“Oh, I know…I didn’t mean to worry you. The Zen’in have a huge house, I’d be surprised if you didn’t get lost!” a nervous laugh; your sister was now sure you were not alone whilst making this call. There was no way you didn’t notice how long you were gone. But she wasn’t foolish enough to go ahead and ask you that directly. “Talking about the estate…”

“Yes?”

“I want you to come visit me”

Hinata’s throat constricted as she struggled to choose the right words to respond. 

The words she wanted to hear for so long, the chance to finally see you, now coming out of your mouth, yet they felt…wrong. It’s like you didn’t mean them genuinely, like you were reading them from a nearby book or paper. And Sumire’s concerned face meant she thought the same. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” You responded, cheerfully even. Did you notice how suspicious you sounded, and was now trying to cover it up? “I just thought it would be better to talk in person. You know, I haven’t been able to contact you because I just got back from my honeymoon and settling down in a new place is always so hard–”

“What about my text messages?” Hinata interrupted your rambling. If you didn’t have it in you to tell her what she wanted to hear, then she’ll do it herself. “I know you’ve seen them”

“I’ll explain everything when you’re here. When can you come?”

Hinata gave a long and hard thought to the available dates she could travel; it was far from the ideal scenario she envisioned having when you finally reached out, but in a way, felt like it was the best outcome. This way, she would be able to confront you, alone, no one else peering over your shoulder when talking to her. Just two sisters trying to reconnect. 

With one sigh intertwined with determination and a twinge of economic regret, she dictated:

“Tomorrow”

“Alright. We’ll see you here”

“Y/N wait–!”

But it was too late, before Hinata could fit in another word, you’ve already hung up. All that was left behind were the beeping noises coming through the phone, indicating the line had been promptly closed and the nervous looks Sumire was darting between your sister’s face and the telephone. 

Both women, too busy assimilating what just occurred to do anything else, stood speechless as the air around them began to fill with tension. Your call, prompted out of nowhere, had been short and to the point. You didn’t even take the time to ask about her or your brother…your father…nothing. 

This wasn’t like you— at all. If anything, it seemed like you were reciting a script, from the way you faked your laugh to the mannerisms in your speech. But ask fake as that sounded, it was still you, there���s no doubt about it. It was your voice.

“Is…everything alright, Hinata?”

“No” she frowned, but Hinata wasn’t one to dwell too much into the past and her mind began recounting the fastest way to travel. “Nothing is alright…but it doesn’t matter. I’ll buy the earliest airplane ticket to Kyoto—no matter the cost— and see what is going on with my sister. I’ll deal with the place to stay once I’m there”

“Do you want me to tell Ren? Or your father?”

“It’s tempting but…it’s too early for them to get involved. Sumire, keep an eye on the elders and if they say anything about the bank statement, because I know they will , just tell them I had a last-minute mission to take care of”

She bit her lip and nodded eagerly, taking in her new duties; but more than a servant who was obediently following her master’s requests, Sumire was looking out for a dear friend. She, too, loved you very much.

“It’s time to end this ruse”

╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳

A few hours later, after going through the tedious work that is airport clearance and picking up her small luggage, Hinata was on her way to the Zen’in estate.

There were moments where she thought that visiting you tomorrow was a mistake, a logistic miscalculation (and an economic punishment for her bank account) one that would linger heavily in her mind—but then, the urge to see you, to know about your wellbeing and rescue you quickly overwrote those lethargic musings and went forward with her plan. Even with the accumulating expenses that began skyrocketing in numbers, that didn’t stop her. If her money wasn’t there to help her sister, then what use did it have?

Luckily, she managed to book a room in a hotel relatively close to the Zen’in estate. Only 20 minutes away by car, perhaps a bit more since they lived almost at the outskirts of the city and animals tended to cross the roads and stop traffic, but if everything occurred as planned, then she would be able to see you for the first time in 3 weeks.

With no time to spare for sleep, Hinata placed her bags on the cheapest, minimalist room she found, ( I just need a bed and a bathroom , she said to the receptionist who was adamant in booking her in a room with a balcony, plus unnecessary add-ons to make her stay more pleasant ) and called the taxi service. 

It was a relatively quiet ride, even when the driver tried to ease the tension settling in the air by commenting on the surrounding tourist locations, hoping to intrigue interest and maybe, more work to get paid for, but Hinata had no intentions on entertaining him, her mind solely focused on you.

He eventually offered to play music, turn on the radio, just about anything to alleviate the nerves of her shoulders (and perhaps soothe himself as well, as her silence began to inundate him with 2 possibilities: your sister was a ghost, or she was going to kidnap him), but all attempts were shut down by your sister's quiet no, thank you’s and if you’d like to hear something, go ahead .

Eventually, just on the top of the furthest hill up north, surrounded by massive trees and abundant rivers, the Zen’in estate became apparent to all eyes inside the car. Even when enclosed by the vegetation native to the area, it still remained imposing and prominent. 

The architectural design of the estate brought an air of royalty and power, enough to imply that whoever lived there was far from poor and had more than enough to spare, but not humble enough to offer shelter to wandering souls who misjudged the estate as a ryokan. 

“We’re almost here” the driver announced, and Hinata looked up from her phone—which she had used to distract herself to make the trip shorter, as well as to check if no one had managed to figure out her whereabouts, she’d thank Sumire for that later— to the window before her. The sight of the building where you were locked away brought her a new wave of anxiety and eagerness—one rooted in the prospect of being so close to seeing you once again.

Once at the top, it only took a few more minutes of driving along the paved road before the entrance to the estate became visible.

Two wooden doors, as tall as the nearby trees, proudly stood adjacent to the main road. The Zen’in clan symbol is engraved on a pillar beside them, continued by stone walls surrounding the property, nothing can be seen through them except for the branches of the trees peeking through the top.

Hinata looked at the driver and took out a few bills from her wallet, amounting to the price he’d initially stated the ride would cost, plus an extra, and informed him to wait; for she’ll need a ride back to the hotel once she was done. The man nodded and received the bills with a glimmer in his eye, replying:

“Take your time, I’ll wait for you here”

She nodded and closed the door behind her once completely out. 

Hinata wasn’t one to be known as frequently nervous, but visiting a strangers land had her agitated, and her hands searched comfort by playing with the strap of her bag. She took quick steps towards the door and reached for the door-knocker, a large and heavy bronze hoop  protruding from the right side of the entrance. Hinata picked it up with one hand and slammed it against the rectangular piece of the same material below it, 3 loud bangs trembled across the door and then—silence.

Your sister was counting the seconds to when the door would open. After 10, she was motivated to knock again until she heard shuffling on the other side of the entrance, someone unlocking the door and slowly pushing it open. There, the face of a young servant came forward, eyes locking into each other’s gaze, face void of any emotion; Hinata was unsettled by the look of the young woman before her. A twinge of ire began to sprout in the depths of her mind as she imagined the conditions she could only assume the Zen’in forced her to work in—would she find you in this state as well?

Her thoughts were cut short as the servant motioned her inside, Hinata took one last look to the outsides, back to the taxi driver who was all too happy recounting the bills he just received, and finally stepped inside.

“Welcome, L/N-san, we were waiting for you”

It’s time to reveal the truth.

╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳

The night before your sister's arrival, you did not get a wink of sleep.

Twisting and turning around the futon, your mind ran a thousand miles an hour as you recounted the conversation you had earlier with your sister through the phone, and the horrifying experience that rattled your sense of reality. 

Without any surprise, your sister was quick to notice there was something wrong in the way you spoke, but her questions were not to be answered that moment; not with Junko peering over your shoulder to check if you were saying the right things, not giving out any hints of your mistreatment.

Naoya was visibly pleased to hear that your sister had agreed to come over to the estate, and in such a short notice too, but failed to see how all of these quickly occurring successions could rid you of a good night's sleep. And apparently Junko decided to keep your little scare private from Naoya, evident by how he didn’t comment on it when eating dinner together, or later at night, when the two of you were in the privacy of your shared chambers.

Nonetheless, you still managed to irritate him by your constant movement across the bed and he eventually snapped, ordering you to get yourself together or to sleep on the floor. You sheepishly apologize, not giving him reasons for your agitation, and excused yourself to the bathroom, where you would splash a bit of water onto your face in hopes of refreshing your tense façade as well as to take, much needed look into the mirror.

The woman who greeted you back was a stranger. 

She was nothing but the shadow of who used to be: a young, cheerful, full of life, energetic woman. One that had a whole promising future ahead, someone that had the opportunity to choose whatever she wanted to do, supported by those who loved her dearly.

But now, you were stripped of those characteristics, relegated to being the wife of an heir and nothing else; but far from enjoying the luxury that title usually conveyed, you were forced to sit back, stay quiet, cast away any desire in favor of your husbands and leave your future in the hands of strangers.

It was blatantly obvious in your face that you were far from happy—Hinata would certainly notice and push you further into answering her demands. But Naoya didn’t intend the meeting to go that way, you had a part to play if you wanted to satisfy him.

Thus, you forced a smile on your lips, rehearsing the look you would give your sister when seeing her for the first time in 3 weeks, and prayed she would believe you before going back to bed with your husband.

The next morning, just like every day, your ladies picked you up from the room and led you to the bathroom.

They heard of your sister’s visit just moments earlier, and although they didn’t know much about the relationship you had with your family —or if you had any at all since you kept quiet in allot of matters pertaining to your life before the Zen’in— nonetheless, they still treated it like a special occasion and dressed you up another beautiful yukata , this time pink and with white embroidery, courtesy of Hitomi.

To your surprise, Haruko kept unusually quiet as she tended to your hair; but would occasionally throw a few cheerful comments here and there, thus, you didn’t give it much thought, perhaps she wasn’t feeling very well this morning. 

Mariya didn’t speak much either way, but still gave you a reassuring smile—one that fell deaf to your acknowledgement, still wounded by her betrayal.

Hitomi was always quiet, but blushed and thanked you when you complimented her work.

Once ready, your ladies-in-waiting took you to a garden in a section you briefly visited with Junko days prior, on the south side of the estate. 

It was spacious, filled with a mix of daisies and lilies, a combination you didn’t know was in season, yet, took time to appreciate its beauty. 

In the middle of the garden, stood 2 stone benches and a small table, one that you assumed was rarely used since it was covered in dirt—promptly removed with the help of Hitomi and a piece of cloth.

You carefully walked all the way to the center of the garden and sat down on one of the benches, you spread the skirt of your yukata downwards until it was fixed, and looked up to your staff.

“We’ve been informed that your sister is already here.” Mariya said, while Haruko placed a cup of tea before you, to calm your nerves , she said.

Your ears perked at the sudden information and your shoulders tensed with yearning.

“Naoya-sama will join you momentarily” The 3 women gave a courteous bow and left the same way they entered, leaving you with the flowers as companions.

Somehow, Naoya’s presence in your meeting with Hinata did not come as a surprise. If he wanted things done correctly, then he must be present, or at least that’s what he must’ve considered when arranging this gathering. He didn’t speak to you that morning, and in fact, he didn’t even indulge in his perverted fantasies last night, which took you as another surprise. 

He instead opted to keep his thoughts and hands away from you, as he prepared to change himself for the day and share breakfast with you.

Perhaps he too, was too nervous to think about anything else that wasn’t your sister.

Nonetheless that silence was temporary, once the deed was done, he would go back to torment you, now without restraints—your family effectively out of sight.

Hearing footsteps approaching from your right side, you quickly turned around to see who it was; in the back of your mind you hoped it was your sister, only to be received by the image of a very serious Naoya. 

“Your sister is here, you know what that means, don’t you?”

You pressed your lips together and nodded. 

“Don’t try to do anything funny , wife. I’ll be quick to put you in your place, in front of your sister, even!” He chuckled, his serious facade now gone, replaced by his usual cockiness, and you suppressed the dark feeling beginning to prosper at the bottom of your stomach. “The servants are bringing her in, I wonder what face she’ll have when she sees you”

And just as he said, another set of footsteps became noticeable; this time, from the left. Your head slowly turned to the origin of the noise, eyes focusing into the depths of the halls, as you knew they could only belong to one person, and one person only. And there…you saw her—Hinata.

Contrary to you, she was not taken aback by the beauty or the garden before her or the decorations around the house, her mind and gaze was solely focused on you, and once she saw you in her reach, rushed towards your figure.

“Y/N!” she cried, ready to embrace you in the tightest of hugs she could possibly give, but was promptly stopped upon noticing the presence of your husband. She, too, was not surprised to see he’d decided to be present during your talk. She cleared her throat and composed herself “I’m…happy to see you. Both of you” Hinata lied through gritted teeth, but her tone managed to paint her words as genuine. Although she didn’t really care if Naoya caught her lie, she just wanted to see you.

“Hello, sister” You greeted, the smile you’ve been practicing hours before making itself visible. Your cheeks coated with moderate amounts of blush, and the faintest amount of lip gloss, had your face looking far more angelic that Hinata remembered, and much more happier than you really were; although with or without makeup, you’d always been her innocent little sister, no fact could change that. “I’m glad you could make it in such short notice! I didn’t think you would be able to come; please, sit down! It must’ve been a quick but tiring trip”

“Anything for you, sis” Hinata replied as she took your invitation and sat down on the bench across from you. Naoya followed suit and sat beside you, his eyes now locked on your sister’s. “It wasn’t that bad. I managed to find everything very quickly”

“Where are you staying?” you asked, swallowing the other questions you wished to ask, and choosing a more natural topic to keep the conversation flowing. 

“A small family owned inn. I just needed the basics, I don’t play on staying long”

And I don’t want you to, Naoya wanted to add, but held back his desire by giving her a small smile instead. 

“You could’ve told us, we would’ve arranged something for you” Naoya feigned care and this irked Hinata the wrong way.

“Perhaps another time” your sister responded, quickly shutting his offering and focusing on you once more. “Y/N…how…have you been?”

“Me? Oh, good. You know, busy” You shrugged “There’s so many things to do, I just spend most of my time helping the staff around to alleviate some of the duties”

This brought forth an old  memory in Hinata’s mind.

She remembers well the time when you were a child, when you would hide in the kitchen, away from the servants in hopes of getting to wash the dirty dishes before them. Even when your older relatives reminded you that it was part of their duties, you countered them, saying:

They take care of me, so I want to take care of them!

It was always in your nature to help others, thus, Hinata became more tranquil when she heard you still preserved a bit of your kindness.

Sadly, it was far from the truth, and it was because you knew how she thought of you, that you decided to say those words when you did. It was all part to keep her compliant, unsuspecting…

“That’s good.” Hinata said, unconsciously inching closer towards you. “I…there’s something that I want to ask”

“What’s up?”

“Why didn’t you respond to my messages after you saw them? And have you received any of my letters?” You swallowed. It obviously didn’t take long before Hinata began asking the tough questions. She wasn’t one to go around in circles and avoid the main topic of her concern, no. Your sister always went straight to the point—and with much more reason, now that her mission was you.

“I–” you began, trying to hold back the evident hesitance in your tone. You could feel Naoya’s gaze on you, voicing, don’t fuck it up! You looked down to the floor, and up to her eyes. Her gaze determined in getting an answer.

You cleared your throat and continued.

“Hah, you’re not going to believe it! Remember that video I sent you a long time ago, about a hiker who wanted to take a picture of the landscape but dropped his phone?”

“Yeah…?” she responded, somewhat seeing where this conversation was going.

“Well, guess what happened to me!” You laughed, and Hinata raised an eyebrow in skepticism.

“You… lost your phone?” “Yeah, I dropped it! Naoya and I decided to walk on one of the trails nearby, and I wanted to take a picture so I could send it to you and Ren, but when I took my phone out it slipped through my fingers and…well, the forest is very big. I think it might’ve fallen on a nearby river. Ah, but you should’ve seen the view! It was impressive.”

“How long ago was that? Like, how many days into your honeymoon?” Hinata queried, judging by her face, she did not seem to believe…some of your words.

“I-I…I think like 3 days maybe?”

“Then that can’t be possible. I sent you messages like 5 days into your honeymoon”

You internally cursed and Naoya’s frown deepened. Instead of stepping in and trying to cover your mistake, he only blamed you for not being able to tell a convincing lie to your sister. 

He began berating you. 

Women were too stupid to plan ahead, they’re too emotional and only think about—

“That’s… scary, Hinata.” Your quick wit responded; the best way to get out of this situation was to fake that someone now had possession of your supposed lost phone, which in reality was stored away in one of the basements of the estate, turned off with chip removed so you wouldn’t be able to contact anyone, if you somehow managed to find it. Now you just have to convince her. “Have you received anything else from my number?”

“No” Hinata frowned “Was I supposed to?”

“I mean, I hope not! I don’t have that phone anymore, I left it back there in the forest…maybe…I think maybe someone found it and has been using it—Hinata…I think it’s best if you block my number, like…tell my carrier to disable my phone”

“What? ”

“Yeah! I have many contacts there and private information…I know you always told me to never put information regarding my missions or the jujutsu community, but I couldn’t help it and now…I don’t know what I would do if it fell into the wrong hands” You continued to thread another web of lies. And by the look of Hinata’s eyes, she seemed to believe you. “Please”

“I–I guess?” Hinata, still confused by your words, responded. You didn’t make any sense…unless it did? It would explain why you didn’t respond to any of her messages or why the tracker in your phone no longer worked. Your cellphone was probably out there, being sold in an underground market after being promptly wiped out of all it’s contents. If that were the case, then no information was at risk of being leaked; but she also didn’t believe you would be foolish enough to do specifically what she requested you not to—but Gojo often did it, so why would it stop you? “And the letters?”

“I haven't received any letters” You looked at Naoya “Have we?”

“No” he followed your initiative “We’ve been missing a lot of mail recently, we think someone might be stealing from us to get information on my clan—probably a conspirator of Geto’s”

Hinata had no way to either prove or disprove his accusations. 

Mail theft was a felony that had become more common these past few months; and although most of it were pertaining to everyday civilians, there were a few packages labeled as jujutsu business that were interjected by curse users, adding another felony to their ever growing list of crimes. 

To combat this situation, Hinata offered the solution of sealing certain contents to avoid unwanted eyes prying on their information, but it didn’t take long before the seals were broken in and everyone found themselves back at square one.

Perhaps Naoya was telling the truth this time.

Nonetheless, for him to speak of Geto’s name so casually brought disgust to your sister. Even if he was a criminal, Geto had been a close friend of hers, and he certainly did not deserve to say his name.

“I see…that’s unfortunate. How will I be able to talk to my sister, if her phone is lost and mail won’t go through?”

“Well, Naoya and I thought that maybe you could visit, from time to time, you know? Just to check how things are and see how my family is doing” You added with a grin, bright as the sun, as if this was the solution to all of her problems. But far from being the medicine to her illness, it only brought sickness to her stomach. There was a perfectly good phone somewhere inside the walls of this estate, that was being intentionally kept away from your reach. Why weren’t you offering that alternative? Why were you excusing your lack of communication? 

Why were you pushing her away?

“But the call—”

“Oh, that’s a phone solely used for business matters, not personal. The line has to be clear at all times for the Zen’in to be able to receive calls, there’s not a single time where that phone isn’t ringing!” You giggled, the collar of your yukata carefully sliding away, revealing part of your neck. Noticing your exposed skin, you quickly pulled the cloth up, back to its original place and rested your hand on your husband’s lap. “That’s why I had to cut you short, I’m sorry”

After a few seconds of silence and analyzing the alternatives, Hinata’s lips began to curve into a wide smile, as if suddenly, it all made sense.

“Ah, I should’ve known! The Zen’in are a very big and influential clan, of course they wouldn’t have time to let us sisters hog the phone all day!” Hinata laughed, and her reaction caused you to flinch. Naoya, who had been silently observing the two sisters interact with one another, was also taken aback by her sudden change of behavior, but that surprise was soon replaced with satisfaction. “I’m sorry about the mail though, my clan and I have been trying to come up with alternatives to lower the number of reports, but to no avail”

“There’s nothing to apologize” Naoya gave her a sympathetic smile and he looked back at you “It’s something that was bound to happen after all the attacks”

Hinata was finally convinced that you were ok, and it was now time to send her away—for good.

“I’m glad you understand, Hinata.” You added, your husband gently squeezing your hand as you began to see what he was seeing. You began to seal your fate by swallowing the agony of your next words ”For now, we would like to have more time to ourselves, I have to get used to the clan, if you know what I mean”

“Of course, a just-married couple needs all the time they can get their hands on before finally settling down. Besides, you two are from an arranged marriage, so there’s a lot of things to learn from one another—no offense.”

“I’m glad everything is clear” The last ray of hope you were desperately clinging onto was destroyed. Ripped apart, burned to the ground, nothing left but the ashes of your despair.

Hinata, who you believed knew you the most, who you trusted to catch the hints you tried to convey on your tone or on the words you chose to speak, fell into your deceivement and thought of you as unredeemable.

Perhaps this solitude you always felt wasn’t feigned. You truly deserved to be alone.

“I guess that’s it then. I’m glad you’re ok, oh, before I forget, Sumire, Ren and Dad said hi! They’re doing well, but I don’t want you to worry much about them, focus on your life right now” Hinata beamed as she stood from the bench, looking around as if trying to remember where she came from “I would like to stay more time, join you for dinner, but I have to go, since I have a few pending missions so…uh…do you mind leading me to the exit?”

“Of course not, follow me” Naoya offered and you stood up, wanting to see your sister off one last time, although your husband much preferred you stayed behind. He’d allow it this time, he thought, like the final fuck you to your sister. Sealing his victory once and for all.

It didn’t take long before the 3 of you stood by the entrance, wooden doors now open for your sister to leave whenever she was ready. Hinata rubbed her hands with one another as she tried to warm herself up from the sudden gust of wind that sent chills traveling up her spine. She commented on the upcoming weather, and how winter was estimated to be far worse than last year, earning some chuckles and comments back from you and your husband.

“Well, I guess this is it” Hinata stood before you, her eyes filled with the warmth and relief of a woman who got what she looked for. Her visage could not hurt you more, as the image of the always supporting sister turned corrupted; she was now a stranger.. “I had no reason to be worried”

“I’m glad you’re better now” You said, grinning as widely as possible to stop the forming tears on the corners of your ears from falling. But far from stopping them, your gesture only caused you to feel even more miserable, and before you knew it, you were crying.

“Oh, Y/N” Hinata cooed “I’ll be back before you know it”

“I–It’s fine, I just—”

“We don’t want to keep you busy, Hinata” Naoya intervened “Or your taxi for that matter”

“Ah, I’m sure he can wait a bit. I just want to hug my sister goodbye, is that alright with you, brother-in-law?”

Naoya held back a scoff and looked away before nodding in approval, not wanting to see any more of their emotional interaction, not when he already had what he wanted. 

Hinata stared at you for a few seconds, and gave you a soft smile as her hand gently patted your cheek, swiping away the hot tears with a swift nudge. You hopelessly held back a sob as she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. Her face rested over your shoulder, as her warm breath fell against your ear. 

She continued to coo and reassure you that her visit, although temporary, was not the least one, that she’ll be back in no time, after she finished her missions. She sealed her words with a kiss on your head and you sobbed once more.

You hugged her back, tightly as possible, with no intention of letting her go. Your body unconsciously attempted to reach out to her one last time, another attempt to see if she could make out your desperate cry for help, before your mind dictated it was pointless—with her words, it was clear she’d already given up on you.

But before you could pull away, Hinata placed her lips as close as possible to your ear, and whispered, low enough for Naoya or anyone else for that matter, not to hear, but loud enough for you to understand.

  “I”ll get you out of here, I just need time”

 Your breath hitched, eyes widening as you slowly turned to meet your sister’s gaze. 

Instead of finding the glimmer of an ignorant sister who believed you were ok, you found an unbreakable determination you previously thought yourself unworthy of.

Hinata was not stupid.

When you laughed and your collar started to fall out of place, her eyes were quick enough to travel down to your uncovered skin, before you fixed it away, and saw a horrifying fact unfold before her that made everything make sense.

Underneath your yukata, by your collarbones, were two darkened bruises, surrounded by patches of red skin, apparently from recent wounds. There was also a light tremble on your fingers as you moved to cover the sight she wasn't supposed to notice, stopping her trailing gaze to fall further into your cleave, where more hickeys were hidden.

Having this shocking revelation made all of your excuses make sense.

You weren’t saying these things because they were the truth, or because you wanted to stay away from her. You were saying them because Naoya held you captive, and he was abusing you! This was far from settling down and getting along with the servants, you probably haven’t been able to see anything outside his disgusting face!

The nerve of this man to hurt you had your sister seeing red, and she was more than ready to lunge over your husband and choke him to death–but your presence and reality of her surroundings stopped her.

She was inside the Zen’in estate, surrounded by members who swore loyalty to Naoya; if she were to attack him, there was no doubt in her mind that someone would seek retribution, and your fate would end up being worse than it currently was.

Hinata berated herself for even considering that the words you were spewing held an ounce of truth; but once felt her time at the estate quickly coming to an end, she was forced to prepare a plan that would inform you she unveiled everything.

Thus, she gave you her own rendition of the Kiss of Judas , but instead of sentencing you to death, she was sentencing you to salvation.

Fight, Y/N. Fight! Because I’m not giving up on you .

A sudden spark of confidence began to ignite from the depths of your mind as Hinata pulled away from your warm embrace. This had been the truth the entire time: you were not alone. 

Your sister, as expected, was quick to notice there was something wrong and saw through your faked deceivement. She was just playing along to not get caught.

Suddenly, you felt you had all the power in the world, enough to fight Naoya off until your sister saved you.

But you were not one to keep still with arms crossed. You would help Hinata in your own way, from behind enemy lines, anything to complete the new mission she had entrusted herself with.

“I’ll see you later. Take care” Hinata said one last goodbye and exited the estate, wooden doors eventually closed by nearby servants. 

You looked back at Naoya and held back the urge to smile and mock his stupid idea of bringing your sister down.

Perhaps he underestimated the strong bond siblings could have because he never bothered to get along with them. He thought it easy to break something he didn’t understand, but in the areas that he lacked, others would strive; his lack of social skills and human decency was to be his downfall, and your sister’s conviction was living proof of that statement.

“That was easy” Naoya grinned as he walked towards you, one of his fingers wiping away the tears that managed to ruin your makeup “Your tears even had me feel pity for you two”

You nodded, using the sleeve of your kimono to pick up the remnants of your almost-dried tears,

“Ah, well, it doesn’t matter. She’s out of the picture, and I can finally focus on my missions” He shrugged, turning around and heading to the inside of the halls, you closely trailing behind him. “It’s done.”

“Yes.”  you smiled, basking in the glory of your first victory over him. “It's done.”

[saintlike78]

I've been thinking a lot about druig and the way he disliked the way humans treated each other, I think he's genuinely good beneath all the grunts and "anger", like being inside their heads for that long, hearing the way hatred filled they minds, you'd think it made him cold but I think he's just tired of not being allowed to do anything about it

I've also been thinking about how that applies to his person, selfishly I'd like to think he'd be very protective of your heart, he'd be easily angered whenever you let him into your head and he found thoughts of sorrow left behind by other people, he'd try so hard to make up for it, make up for the darkness they tried to cast over his little light

idk if this makes sense for a dialogue or if you'd rather just reply to it as if it were a hc, I got a little carried carried away bdxbf

This is so sweet Monique! 😭 I hope I did it justice

——

“Druig, I told you I’m fine,” you laughed into his strong chest, Druig’s arms wrapped tightly around you, keeping you safe and secure.

“It’s not fine,” he grumbled, tightening his grip on you and kissing the top of your head with a permanent frown on his face.

“You can’t protect me from every bad thought ever…- sorrow is inevitable, but luckily I don’t feel it often, my love,” you sighed softly, nuzzling further into him - not for your own comfort and reassurance, but for his.

Druig breathed out, rubbing down the expanse of your back in hopes of casting away all of the bad thoughts and actions of those around you.

“I know, dove… but you deserve nothing but happiness.”

“And you give me nothing but happiness… stop overthinking… I wouldn’t have asked for anything but this,” you smiled softly, pulling your head from his chest, looking up at him with pouting lips, “kiss?”

Druig’s worried face lightened with a soft smile, leaning down, “anything to keep you happy, my dove,” he whispered before connecting your lips.

[madame-fear]

ahhhhh hfgsjdkdj

can i get a serving of josh templeton x reader angst, that maybe blends into fluff (still not ready for full angst 😭). where the reader comforts him after the incident with the sword. angsty cus hes pretty shut off and mean after it but the reader like idk reassures him. yknow

this is my therapy 100% im sorry

~🦈

omg yesss!!! Definitely!! 💕 He's such a cute bb who deserves to b loved 😭😭

Happy reading, my dear!! ❤

WARNING: Mentions of murder, isolation, and some slight cussing. Starts with Angst, ends with some fluff.

_______________________________________

By Your Side | Josh Templeton x Fem!Reader

"Josh?" Gently knocking on his bedroom door, you called out his name, waiting for a response.

Recently, you've been involved in a rather complicated situation. You were hanging out with your friends and enjoying some time together...you were especially enjoying your time with Josh. Suddenly, things got heavy and rough, which that lead to an unfortunate accident: Josh stabbed Daryl in the neck with his brother's katana he was using to show of his skills with it.

Of course, it was a mere accident, but it was traumatising for everyone who witnessed the horryfing moment. You all kept it a secret, and left Daryl's body in the middle of the forest, next to Josh's katana. Deep down inside, you thought he kind of deserved it for being an asshole towards all of you. The one who was the most shocked about the situation was Josh, and despite his sudden isolation being absolutely understandable, it had become worrying.

Now, your top priority was visit your friend and make him understand, it was just an accident. You had currently went to visit him at his house, and you were trying to make him answer you by knocking on his bedroom door and calmly calling him by his name. Unfortunately, he gave you no response; so you decided to open the door.

The door quietly creaked as you opened it. Your heart was shattered with sorrow at the sight of him sitting on the floor, staring at the wall. You deeply sighed, and slowly walked towards him. "Hey, Josh..." You sat next to him, waiting for him to respond you. But still, you got nothing from him. Extending your hand, you tried to place it in his shoulder to soothe him a bit. Under your fingertips, his body immediatly got tense, and harshly pushed your touch away. "Don't touch me." He quietly muttered. "Josh, it wasn't your fault. It was just an accident." You tried to convince him, but his face had zero expression.

"Please...(Y/N), stop trying." Before you could say something else, he quickly interrupted you. "Leave me the fuck alone." His voice was quiet, and monotone. You truly hated seeing him this way. And he hated treating you this way, but he just was way too overwhelmed with the situation. "You had enough alone time, we were all very worried for you." His facial expression had now softened a bit. He turned his head around to look at you, his blue eyes were deeply focused on yours, and you decided to try placing your trembling hand once again on his back. He didn't push you away this time, so you softly began rubbing it in a comforting way. His body was slightly more relaxed than it was before. "Please. I miss you. I hate seeing you like this." You slowly made your way from his back to his face with your hands, caressing his soft cheek, provoking a small blush.

"It was a very traumatising and shocking situation for all of us. And I know you're the one who's been most affected by it, but it was just an accident. I know you didn't mean to stab him. You have to understand, it wasn't your fault..." You understood how he felt, absolutely. But seeing him this isolated just made you feel horrible, he looked so broken...you just wanted him to understand. "Don't push me away, please...I just want to help you, and I want you to know I'm always going to be there for you, no matter what happens." He just stared at you, he had a slight bit more of expression than before.

You sighed, and looked elsewhere. "I-If you need some more time alone, I understand. I really do." You said, as you stood up, ready to leave his home. "So I guess, I'll leave you–" He interrupted you by tightly grabbing your hand before you turned around to leave his room. "No. Don't." His voice tone was softer, now. "I'm sorry. I really need you right now. Please don't leave." Your lips partly opened so you could speak, but he quickly stood up, just likd you did, and the grip on your hand softened. "I don't want to push you away. I'm just...shocked. I feel so fucked up about this. I really appreciate your company...please, don't leave. I need you."

You were totally speechless and shocked at his confession. He was never very open with his feelings, so you kind of felt special knowing what he was thinking right now. "If you say so, I'll stay, then." You offered him a sweet, and warm smile. Unknowingly to you, his heart fluttered everytime you flashed him a big smile.

Out of the blue, he suddenly threw himself at you, tightly wrapping his arms around your delicate body, and his head was placed in your shoulder. It took you a few seconds to return it, but you eventually did, as your cheeks suddenly turned pinkish and warm. You truly appreciated when he opened his feelings to you, it made you feel closer to him. Giving into the hug, you rubbed his back with one hand, and with the other, you played with some strands of his messy brown hair. "Thank you...(Y/N). I love your company. I...I love you, in general." God, you found him to be so adorable in his own little way.

You placed a soft kiss on his head, as you kept calmly rubbing his back, offering him some more comfort. He was so relieved to have you next to him, even if he acted mean towards you...but you never gave up on him, and he loved that. You made him feel appreciated, and he knew he could always trust you. He couldn't deny it, you made his heart warm with love.

"I love you too, Josh. You're so special to me. I promise you, I'll always be by your side no matter what happens."

[photogirl894]

For the writing prompts, can I please request “We’ve been by each other’s sides for years, you think I’m gonna leave now?” with Echo 🥺 my boy deserves so much love.

UGH, I LOVE ECHO SO MUCH!! 😭💜😭💜

I would love to do this for you, my sweet friend!! (The wording is slightly different.)

"Not Letting You Go Again"

14. “We’ve been by each other’s sides for years, you think I’m gonna leave now?”

Pairing: Echo x fem reader

***

He was alive.

Echo was alive.

You still couldn't believe it.

For so long, you had believed your closest friend from the 501st was dead. Since the beginning of the Clone Wars, you had been a medic for GAR and you grew close with Echo. You had been completely devastated when Fives and Rex had returned from the Citadel and broke the news to you. The one time you didn't go on a mission with him was the time you lost him. For a long time, you weren't as happy as you used to be. Nothing had been the same without him and you missed him every day. The hole he had left in your life made you realize too late just how much you had really loved him. Later on, things got worse when you learned Fives had been killed. Not only was he your friend, too, but he was one of the last reminders of Echo that you had left.

Now, you had just received word from Rex that Echo was alive and was being brought back to Coruscant after a mission on Anaxes.

Your feet took you faster than you'd ever gone before in your life as you sprinted out to the landing bay. You saw Rex coming your direction and you ran right up to him.

"Where is he, Rex? Where is he?" you demanded as you stopped in front of him and he took a hold of your arms.

"He's here, but...you need to be prepared, (Y/N)," he told you. "Echo has been through a lot and isn't quite the same."

"I don't care! I need to see him," you replied, the urgency in your voice building with every passing second.

You caught movement over his shoulder and Rex moved aside as he saw you peering behind him, revealing Echo standing a few feet away. A gasp of shock and relief escaped you as your hands flew up to your mouth and tears filled your eyes.

Echo was as white as a ghost and, even with a set of armor on, you could tell he was much thinner than before. It was even more noticeable in his face. His hair was gone and you could see what looked like small holes in his head. What shocked you even more was that he no longer had his right arm. Instead, he now had some sort of cybernetic scomp arm. There was both nervousness and sorrow in his amber brown eyes upon seeing you.

Finally, he spoke timidly, "Hey, (Y/N). It's me."

There it was: the voice you had missed hearing for such a long time. It really was Echo's voice. It was him and you knew it. No matter how he appeared on the outside, you knew immediately that this was still your closest friend in the galaxy. You cried out, your tears falling from your eyes, as you dashed towards him. You leapt at him and threw your arms around his neck, hugging him as closely as you could.

"Oh, Echo!" you sobbed into his neck as he hugged you back. "It's you...it's really you! You're alive!" You pulled back and cupped his face in your hands. "How is this possible? Who did this to you?"

"It's...a long story," he said with a shrug.

You couldn't help but smile as more tears fell down your cheeks. You couldn't contain the joy you felt as seeing Echo standing in front of you and physically feeling his embrace again.

"I want to hear everything. I'm just overjoyed you're still alive. I've missed you so terribly, I couldn't bear it," you told him.

"I'm so sorry," he said with sadness. "I mean, I can tell you what I can, but...I'm going to have to leave soon."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Well...I'm joining a new squad. Clone Force 99. They're the ones who helped bring me here."

Something about the squad name sounded familiar to you. You recalled something about them being "defective Clones".

"Well, don't leave yet," you stated, stepping away. "Tell your new squad they're getting a new medic, too, because I'm coming with you."

Echo's eyes widened in surprise. "I don't know how they'll react to that."

You scoffed. "I don't care. Tell them it's happening." Then you turned and started walking away, preparing to go pack up your belongings.

Echo called after you, "Are you sure about this? What about your life here?"

You stopped, faced back to him and answered, "I've barely had a life here for a long time...but now you're back. That's all I care about now. We were always by each other’s sides for years. You think I’m gonna leave you now? Not a chance, Echo. I already let you leave once and I lost you. I'm not letting you go again."

Listening to the conviction in your voice, Echo couldn't help but grin proudly. "There's my girl I know and love," he said out loud.

You smiled even brighter. As of that moment, it didn't matter what happened or where life took you after this. Your Echo was alive and had come back to you. As long as you were with him, you knew you'd be happy.

20 Fluff/Relationship prompts

More Echo fics

Bad Batch Writing Requests

[g4rous]

Y'ello !

I keep thinking about my man Yoriichi and how he freaking DESERVED a happy life and a family. I'm sad 😖. So you know that scene where he went to talk to tanjiro's ancestor. That scene but it's the reader comforting Yoriichi instead.

Ty 💋

GOD THAT SCENE GOT ME CRYING EVERY TIME I RE-READ IT 😭

Seriously though, why does such a good-hearted precious guy gotta go through all that bs?

All he wanted was a family, a simple life, nothing more and he couldn’t even have that :(

I hope you like this 💖

 Reader comforting Yoriichi Tsugikuni

-A frown found it’s way to your face upon witnessing the sad man next to you

-He was a quiet, good-natured soul and there were few moments where he was visibly down

-It took you by surprise. “What could be wrong?”

-After a few dreadful minutes of silence, Yoriichi began to speak of his past, tranquil sorrow in his voice

-You two were so close, never hesitating to lean on each other when times were rough, but this is different

-What could you possibly say upon hearing such tragic moments? How could you comfort this man who you care about so much? The thoughts kept swirling

-You know he deserves the world and bearing witness to his saddened state really shakes you

-Gently placing a hand on his back and looking him in the eyes with pure sympathy, you began;

-“Hey.. It’s alright now.”

-“I’m here for you, please know you’re not alone.”

-“None of this is your fault. I promise you”

-You weren’t sure how to formulate a comforting sentence that’ll cheer him up and were afraid to bother him, but your words were sincere and heartfelt

-Gently leaning against your shoulder, he listened to each and every one of them, giving his heart solace at least for a moment

-You lightly ran your fingers through his hair, giving him a feeling of comfort he thought he had almost forgotten

-You knew he needed time to feel better, to be himself again and let go of all that grief

-You couldn’t imagine how horrid those experiences of his were, he had every single right to feel depressed

-That’s why he came to you in the first place. He needs to let all those emotions out, to feel as if someone understands him, to feel complete again

-He took hold of your hand and looked at you with sorrowful eyes, filled with both regret and gratitude. Gratitude he still had you there for him

-“Things are going to be alright. You may not realize it, but you did your best, and I am so proud of you for that.”

-He listened to your soft voice, taking you in a long, loving hug. He needed it

[janumun]

imagine when at the end of the exchange program, MC goes back to the human world and she lost all of her memories of when she spends her time in Devildom. A couple of months passed (MC got her self a human partner), then somehow Diavolo want to hold another exchange program, brought MC back in and she met Lucifer. What will Lucifer's reaction be towards MC already having a partner and not recognizing him? I'm right here imagining all the angst😭

Part 2:

Dear Anon, why must you try to hurt me (and yourself) and Lucifer in this manner щ(ಥДಥщ) Here's a bit of my self-indulgent rambling. I guess this can count as an alternative ending to Honor-bound, a revenge, as my previous anon, suggested? (I hope this satisfies you too, other nonny!)

You'll step through the doors of the Student Council room and a familiar figure will cut through your path, tall and regal and you're mesmerized by the sight of him: as handsome as the Avatar of Pride is.

No emotions of familiarity; nothing crosses that face but inside, he's a defeated storm of emotions. Lucifer knows of your human lover of course, he's been keeping track of you on Earth; worry for you stealing his gaze towards your happy face within the Portal of Reflection (yeah, I made that up).

The other demon brothers have all been down to see you, once or twice but not him. Never him. Satan urged him once to "get off his ass and quit being a lily-livered bastard." but even that wasn't enough to rile Lucifer into action.

You were far, far happier in the human world, among your own kind, than you could ever be by his side. Until Diavolo brings you back to Devildom and it's all just in vain—

"You'll be living here as our human representative and we hope you'll do your part in making sure our Exchange Program is a success. I officially welcome you to Devildom." A gloved hand extended towards you, graceful, as befitting of the second highest entity in Devildom.

And you take it, smiling up at him in greeting, tearing his heart apart in soul-deep sorrow, anger and yearning. You'll never be his again. And somehow, he deserves it all.

Your laughter ringing in his ears in the moment when your human fiancé had proposed and you had said yes, prior to your appointment in Devildom, has him biting back the blood, bitter and raw.

"Hello, I'm—"

Oh, how the mighty Avatar of Pride has fallen.

_________________________________________

LOLOL, okay in the crack AU of this, the second Diavolo announces he's calling you back, all Hell breaks loose and Lucifer is leading a revolt against the demon because how fucking dare he.

Also, that memory loss, ugh, forget it. He knows you're pretending you don't know him since you made clear that cheating was not something, never something you could forgive him for.

Devildom burns. That's the real tragedy here, folks.