#heroic stance
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lyrinami · 2 months ago
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Iron Cathedral
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Checkpoint: Jib Mix Realistic XL-v15.0 Maximus EclecticEuphoria Universal SD3_k4 black-forest-labs/FLUX.1-dev
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comicaurora · 2 years ago
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is there any particular thought-out reason behind Erin saying "stupid by my mother's standards" instead of "stupid by our mother's standards" or "stupid by mom's standards" to Tess?
Yep!
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troubledtmesis · 1 year ago
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Another layer. Stigma/stigmata is just, like, a regular ancient Greek word lol. Herodotus uses it in the 400s BCE. The word did very much exist, given that Prometheus is also ancient Greek.
eagle: so what do you think about stigmata
prometheus: you know we're in a pre-christian myth, right? like that word doesn't exist yet. your dumb joke is anachronistic.
eagle: stigma talons in your flesh
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punkitt-is-here · 1 year ago
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Man I know I'm bitching about this a lot but I think the complete degradation of the satire and edge of the fallout series over time makes me so mad. The first game literally has an occupying American soldier shooting a Canadian protester dead right there in the opening to let you know the game's stance towards the military and the US as a whole; it's a biting attack on the jingoistic, war-and-profit loving country the US was, rooted in reality. It immediately forces the player to recognize the US (especially in this setting) were not heroic, patriotic do-gooders, but violent, colonizing bastards who blew up the world over chasing a white-picket-fence dream. "War never changes" is about the futile nature of war, the repeating cycles of violence and corruption, the very principles of fighting your fellow man never changing over time. It is always abhorrent, it is always messy, it is always reprehensible, and it is always done for the self interest of the elite in some way. Men do not die for their country, they simply die. Contrasting that with the opening of Fallout 4, which seems to idolize the military and pre-war America, is fucking baffling. You have those white picket fences, those perfect nuclear families, and "war never changes" is stretched like an Animorph cover from a harsh condemnation of the violent cycles the world is put through to a patriotic, watered down idea that war is inevitable and so are heroes. There's no fucking edge to how Fallout 4 remembers the country that ended the world; it gleefully eats up the Americana iconography, sanding down every edge that could make the player even consider that the US in the world of Fallout is meant to be our US taken to a logical extreme, instead revelling in patriotic clothes and ideals and icons while the entire basis of the franchise was built on satirizing and critiquing that exact blind patriotism. It drives me insane that these two completely ideologically different games are under the same roof and that one of them fell for the exact propaganda the first game was satirizing in the first place.
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aymanayyad1 · 6 months ago
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Hello dear friends ! ❤🤍💚🖤🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸
All positive words can't show how generous you are, especially on the side of sharing my posts to let other donors know about the people of Gaza who are still suffering the horrible circumstances resulting from the injust war on Gaza! 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸❤🤍💚🖤
Thank you from the deepest bottom of my heart for the support you are showing to help Palestinian families stay safe and alive.
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Despite the various colours of sufferings and tortures we are undergoing at the moment, your brave stances and support greatly ease and relieve us . Your loud voices and your heroic acts make a great difference to our Palestinian cause. 🖤💚🤍❤🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸
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We are fundraising such donations to have the least basic needs of life and to help find safety and peace for the little kids who don't deserve to lead such horrific situations.
Thanks to your contribution, my family is on its halfway to reach the goal. All forms of your help make a difference to free the people who have been struggling and paying much for almost 300 hard days. ✌✌✌🖤💚🤍❤🇵🇸🇵🇸
Please keep supporting the fairest cause of the world either by directly donating or sharing the link to let others know. Don't hesitate to help people in tough and dire times till the black days end.
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aymanayyad80 · 6 months ago
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Hello dear friends ! ❤🤍💚🖤🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸
All positive words can't show how generous you are, especially on the side of sharing my posts to let other donors know about the people of Gaza who are still suffering the horrible circumstances resulting from the injust war on Gaza! 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸❤🤍💚🖤
Thank you from the deepest bottom of my heart for the support you are showing to help Palestinian families stay safe and alive.🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Despite the various colours of sufferings and tortures we are undergoing at the moment, your brave stances and support greatly ease and relieve us . Your loud voices and your heroic acts make a great difference to our Palestinian cause. 🖤💚🤍❤🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
We are fundraising such donations to have the least basic needs of life and to help find safety and peace for the little kids who don't deserve to lead such horrific situations.🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸
Thanks to your contribution, my family is on its halfway to reach the goal. All forms of your help make a difference to free the people who have been struggling and paying much for almost 300 hard days. ✌✌✌🖤💚🤍❤🇵🇸🇵🇸
Please keep supporting the fairest cause of the world either by directly donating or sharing the link to let others know. Don't hesitate to help people in tough and dire times till the black days end.🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸
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hello-sweetheart · 2 months ago
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I need to see Steve at his breaking point, kneeling in absolute defeat. Whimpering, crying, sobbing with a sword under his chin forcing him to look up that man who is now nothing but a stranger.
But, once he was a familiar and friendly face around the castle. Often running around with the outcasts and playing music in the town square. Telling stories of great heroic adventurers to the children that flocked around him to listen. A tall but scrawny thing with a mouth that knew not when to bite its tongue.
Steven makes a pathetic image for a prince. His skin is stained with tears, grime, and blood. Blood from his knights. Brothers in arms that he’d known since he was a mere child.
He’s nothing now, has nothing.
A fallen prince awaiting death.
Edward has his dark tresses tied at the nape of his neck. His eyes are dark as night, focused and fierce in his gaze. His chest heaves and exhaustion is evident, but he stands proud.
Vengeful.
Such a far cry from the once cowardly and impish man that Steven had known him to be.
Even with the sting of betrayal, the broken bond among him and children, adolescents now, that he had come to care for… he understands why someone would follow him.
He has the stance of a leader and the final unwavering judgement of a king.
Humilated, he thinks of his people, the children (his children), and even the servants that had joined the revolt against the crown. He wishes them a better life, a kinder one than he and his parents had given them under their family rule.
Steven trusts… he trusts in his people’s judgment, despite it all, and their faith in their soon-to-be King Edward.
Accepting the fate of their decision, his cries quiet but he makes no move to wipe the mess he’s made of himself.
Steve raises his chin just a bit higher and tries to steady his breath. Leans his head against the sword that’s at the side of his neck now, a swing away from finality, and looks up at the people’s king.
“Whatever kind of king you choose to be,” his mouth is parched and heavy with the taste of ash, “be a loving one.”
His closes his eyes, and waits.
“Then, my first act as King will be that of good faith to the people. Prince Steven… I show you mercy.”
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mononijikayu · 3 months ago
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loml — gojo satoru and geto suguru.
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Satoru, leaning back with a gentle sigh, broke the silence. "I think... I’ve fallen in love with them." he confessed, his voice soft, almost vulnerable. He looked at Suguru. “Gen–senpai.” Suguru turned his head slightly, his dark purple eyes finding Satoru’s, a hint of surprise flickering across his features. He didn’t speak right away, but then, slowly, a quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest. He smiled against his shoulder. “Yeah… I have too.”
WARNING/S: pre-hidden inventory arc, post hidden inventory arc, domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;
WORDS: 12.5k words.
NOTE: i ended up thinking about this for a while. i think i wanted something that's satosugu focused that is related to the main story of us and them. and i think it was way more perfect like this. i think that's just how it is with stories in between us and them coded, you know??? anyway, i hope you enjoy it anyway. i just wanted to get it off my mind!!!! i love you all, see you in the next story <3
masterlist
u s and t h e m
if you want to, tip! <3
YOU WERE READY. The air around you crackled with cursed energy, thick and oppressive as it swirled between the high-rise buildings of Tokyo. The cursed spirit looming before you was grotesque, a monstrous thing with far too many eyes and limbs jutting out at unnatural angles. Its twisted form made your skin crawl, its movements erratic as it lashed out, causing havoc in the streets.
You shifted your stance, preparing for the next strike, your eyes scanning the chaos around you. Despite the carnage, your focus wasn’t just on the spirit. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted someone standing a few feet away.
He looked… off. His usually neat, smooth hair was fraying at the ends, loose strands sticking out from the messy bun he usually wore. His dark blue Jujutsu uniform was tattered and streaked with dirt, his face marked with fatigue. There was a haunted, weary look in his eyes.
He wasn’t his usual self, that much was clear. The "I've been through some stuff" energy radiated from him like a second skin. You could see the wear of battle etched into his features, the faint tremor in his hands as he stood, catching his breath. This wasn’t someone you remembered.
Ah, he was a first year student.
"Alright, first year." you called out, adjusting your grip on your yari spear. "Looks like I’ll finish this off."
You lunged forward, aiming for the cursed spirit’s core, when—
"Wait! Stop! " Suguru suddenly yelled, nearly tripping over himself to get in front of you, arms flailing.
You skidded to a stop just before the spear tip met cursed flesh. Blinking in confusion, you watched as the first year frantically gestured for you to back off. "I have to consume it."
"...Consume it?"
"Yeah." He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "It's kinda my thing."
You stared at him. This guy was the new first-year? Your kouhai? "Alright... I guess that’s something." You lowered your spear reluctantly, watching the younger boy as he took a deep breath, about to do his curse-consumption thing.
Before he could make a move, though, a familiar voice echoed from behind. "Uncool, Suguru. So uncool."
You didn’t even need to turn to know who it was. Gojo Satoru, in all his flashy glory, strolled into view. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his sunglasses sitting lazily on his face, and a smirk that screamed I-know-everything-better-than-you plastered across his features. Ah, this one you remembered too well. 
The younger boy, Suguru,  groaned, his expression dropping faster than the cursed spirit could regenerate its limbs. "Satoru, not now."
"Oh no, now's the perfect time!" Gojo said, waving dramatically. "Imagine it! Big, heroic finish, and then boom! You, standing there... eating the curse? So uncool, dude. Eat it later!"
Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's not like I have a choice. It’s literally my technique."
"Yeah, but couldn’t you, like, exorcise it or something first? Make it cooler?" Gojo shrugged, shooting you a thumbs-up like you were both in on some inside joke. "You get what I mean, right?"
You glanced at Suguru, then at Gojo, back at Suguru—who, despite his calm demeanor, looked like he wanted to punch Gojo in his perfect teeth. "Uh, sure." you offered, trying not to laugh. "You could at least add some flair to it?"
"See?" Gojo said triumphantly. "The senpai agrees with me!"
Suguru groaned louder this time, side-eyeing you with an "I-can't-believe-this" look. "You’re not helping."
"Just saying!" Gojo continued, "if I were you, I'd finish it with style. Maybe spin around, give a little dramatic speech, then eat the curse."
Suguru ignored him, clearly over the theatrics, and raised his hand, muttering something under his breath. The cursed spirit let out one final, unsettling screech before being sucked into his palm in an anticlimactic puff.
"See?" Gojo chimed in again, arms spread wide. "Boring."
"Shut. Up." Suguru shot back, though his face was starting to crack into a small smile despite himself.
You couldn't help it anymore—you burst out snickered. "You two are something else."
Gojo grinned, basking in the chaos he’d created, while Suguru shook his head, walking off with a quiet sigh, muttering about how he "should’ve stayed home today."
"Hey, wait up!" Gojo yelled after him. "Let’s grab ramen! You can cry into your bowl about how uncool you are!"
You glanced at your yari, wondering why you ever thought cursed spirits were the hardest thing to deal with today.
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THIS WASN’T THE USUAL WAY YOU WOULD BE HERE. You usually ate alone. So it was quite a surprise from the ramen house that you asked for a table of four. The familiar scent of ramen wafted through the small shop, warm and inviting as you took your usual seat near the window. 
It had been a long day, but the evening promised something interesting—meeting the new first-year students of Tokyo Jujutsu High. Special-grade sorcerers, at that. You had already been briefed that they were joining the ranks alongside you and Yuki Tsukumo, which was a rarity in itself. It was only fitting to see who these up-and-coming powerhouses were. You called Yuki about it and she raved about wanting to see you more than the younger ones. But you supposed it's just because she missed you. 
You heard them before you saw them.
"I’m telling you, you don’t need to use that technique so recklessly!" came a voice that could only belong to someone with zero filter—Gojo Satoru, if you remembered correctly.
"And I’m telling you, you don’t need to be so reckless in general." another voice retorted—Geto Suguru, calm but undeniably exasperated.
The door swung open, and in they came. Gojo Satoru, all energy and loud confidence, sauntered in first with that infamous swagger, followed closely by Geto Suguru, who looked as though he'd spent the entire walk here contemplating how to silence Gojo for good. Behind them was Ieiri Shoko, who was a bit quiet and composed, giving them both the same look you often gave people who were trying too hard. They had gone back to their accommodation and changed clothes first. 
You couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. Watching Gojo and Geto bicker reminded you so much of Namie and Kaiko. The way they would argue over the smallest details, turning even a simple walk into a battlefield of egos, was something you had long learned to endure. And here they were, in front of you, a new generation—but the dynamic was eerily familiar.
Shoko, on the other hand, seemed calm in the storm, much like yourself. She had that air of detachment, a stillness that balanced out the chaos around her. For a brief moment, you wondered if these three would get along with Namie and Kaiko. Gojo and Geto certainly matched their energy, and Shoko would probably enjoy some quiet conversation amidst the madness. The thought brought a small smile to your face.
“Oi, senpai!” Gojo’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He had already claimed the seat next to you, throwing an arm over the back of his chair like he owned the place. “We’re not late, are we? You didn’t order without us, right?”
Geto frowned. “Satoru, that’s rude! You shouldn’t be so informal with Zenin–senpai!”
“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry. You also don’t have to call me Zenin–senpai.”
“Then….”
“Just use Gen–senpai. Or whatever. I don’t really particularly care about hierarchy.”
Gojo grinned. “Then can I call you Gen, then?”
“Feel free.” You tell him, with a small smile.
“Aha! Then I will!”
“You also aren’t late, don’t worry.” you replied, holding back a chuckle. “And I was just thinking how the three of you remind me of some old friends.”
“Oh? I’m flattered.” Gojo leaned back, grinning smugly. “Must’ve been quite the group if they were anything like me.”
Geto rolled his eyes as he took the seat across from you. “I’m guessing they were probably nothing like you, Satoru.”
“See?” You chuckled, glancing between the two of them. Suguru noticed a small sliver of sadness in your eyes. “That’s exactly what I mean. You remind me of them too well.”
Gojo’s curiosity was piqued. “Oh, they sound like fun. Were they good-looking? Maybe I’ve got some competition.”
“Yeah.” you deadpanned for a bit. “Well….except they didn’t spend their entire day thinking about how cool they were.”
Suguru snorted at that, and even Shoko cracked a tiny smile as she took her seat.
“So, how’s it feel being special-grade sorcerers?” you asked, steering the conversation back on track, looking at Suguru and Satoru. 
“Amazing!” Gojo replied without hesitation, flipping his sunglasses up to rest on his head. “But that’s just my natural state.”
Geto shot him a sideways glance. “Humility was never an option, was it?”
“Look who’s talking, Mr. 'I-can-consume-anything.’” Gojo grinned, waggling his fingers in mock imitation of Geto’s technique.
Shoko sighed, taking a slow sip of water. “It’s like babysitting.”
You smiled again, a strange warmth settling in your chest. These three were so young, and yet there was already something special about them—a camaraderie that, despite the constant bickering, spoke of deep bonds being forged. You could see them going far, together, just as you and your friends once had.
For a brief moment, the thought of Namie and Kaiko sitting around this very table, throwing playful jabs at each other, floated through your mind. You could almost hear their laughter mixing with the voices of Gojo, Geto, and Shoko. It was a fleeting but comforting image.
“They’d like you, I think.” you said softly, more to yourself than to anyone else.
“Huh? Who would?” Gojo asked, eyebrows raised.
“Old friends, the ones I was talking about.” you replied with a shrug, letting the nostalgia slip away. “You remind me of them. And I think you three would get along well.”
Suguru tilted his head slightly, catching the faint note of wistfulness in your voice, but didn’t press further. Gojo, of course, was already distracted by the arrival of his ramen, declaring it to be “the best in Tokyo, hands down!”
As the bowls of ramen arrived and the conversation continued, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. You had a feeling that these three would bring a whirlwind of change—just like the generation before them. And as chaotic as they seemed now, you knew they had something special, something that would take them far.
It was going to be an interesting journey ahead.
The steaming bowls of ramen were placed in front of each of you, and for a brief moment, the chatter paused as everyone seemed to savor the smell. You watched as Gojo Satoru practically dove into his bowl, using his chopsticks with a level of enthusiasm that was almost theatrical. 
Geto Suguru, on the other hand, ate calmly, every movement deliberate, as though he were analyzing the flavors. Ieiri Shoko picked at hers lazily, more interested in observing the antics of her companions than actually eating. You couldn’t eat that much, you weren’t that hungry.
"Best in Tokyo, hands down!" Gojo proclaimed between slurps, noodles half-hanging from his mouth. "You really know your spots, Gen."
“Satoru, call them senpai, Gen–senpai.”
“Nuh-uh!”
“Huh, what do you mean, nuh–uh?”
You smirked, taking a more modest sip of your broth. "I’ve been around. Knew you’d appreciate this place, though."
Geto raised an eyebrow, still focused on his bowl. "Appreciate it? I’m surprised he hasn’t asked to marry the chef yet."
Gojo leaned back, wiping his mouth with a dramatic flourish. "Who says I haven’t? Ramen this good deserves a lifelong commitment."
Shoko let out a quiet snort, her lips twitching into the ghost of a smile. "Pretty sure you wouldn’t last a week in a marriage. Too many noodle-related distractions."
"Hey, I’m capable of multi-tasking, Shoko." Gojo shot back, wagging his chopsticks in Shoko’s direction. "I could juggle ramen and romance. Watch me."
You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. Watching the way they interacted, their personalities bouncing off each other like well-practiced banter, it was clear that, despite the joking and teasing, there was a connection here. Something deeper than the surface-level bickering. The kind of bond that would only strengthen over time.
Geto finished his bowl and set his chopsticks down with a soft sigh. "You’re ridiculous, Satoru."
"Ridiculously awesome, you mean." Gojo corrected, leaning back with a satisfied grin, clearly proud of himself.
"You know….." you started, leaning back in your chair as well. "It's good to see this. You three, I mean."
Gojo raised an eyebrow, now curious. "Good to see us?"
"Yeah." You nodded, glancing between the three of them. "Special-grade sorcerers, the strongest of your generation, yet here you are, acting like normal students. It’s nice to see the kids in you still be kids. It pleases me.”
Geto smiled, a little softer now. "We’re not always this... chaotic. Just when Satoru’s around."
Gojo held up a hand in mock protest. "I’m not the chaotic one! You guys are just too boring to keep up."
"Right, right…." Shoko muttered, taking another sip of her water. "Because you’re the epitome of normalcy."
You chuckled, shaking your head. "Trust me, I’ve seen worse. But seeing you three like this reminds me of the old days. Back when my friends and I thought we were invincible too."
There was a brief pause, a fleeting moment of introspection that settled over the table. Gojo tilted his head, his usual playful expression giving way to something a bit more thoughtful. "Were you?"
"In a way, yeah," you admitted. "Or at least, we thought we were. Until….." You stopped.
Suguru’s gaze sharpened slightly, as if he understood where the conversation was heading. "You lost someone, didn’t you?"
You nodded, feeling the weight of those memories resurface. "We all did, eventually. It’s part of this life."
Gojo looked unusually quiet now, his chopsticks twirling between his fingers. "But you kept going, huh?"
"Had to. Have to." you replied with a faint smile. "Just like you will."
The heaviness lingered for a second longer before Gojo, in typical fashion, broke the silence. "Well, we’re not going anywhere anytime soon. I’m too good-looking to die young, you know?"
Suguru rolled his eyes, and Shoko’s deadpan expression returned. "That’s one way to look at it."
"Hey, I’m just keeping things light, Suguru!" Gojo grinned, his usual cockiness back in full force. "Besides, I’ve got big plans. No way am I letting a cursed spirit mess up this face."
You laughed, but the truth of the matter was still clear. These three—Gojo, Geto, and Ieiri—were in for a long road ahead. And even though they didn’t fully grasp it yet, they would one day understand the weight of their roles as sorcerers. They would carry their own losses, just as you and Yuki had. But for now, it was good to see them like this, carefree, in the moment, enjoying a simple bowl of ramen without the looming threat of the world crashing down on them.
As the meal wound down, the conversation drifted back into lighter territory. Gojo made exaggerated claims about his future as the “greatest sorcerer ever.” Suguru countered with dry remarks, and Shoko threw in the occasional sarcastic comment that kept them both in check.
You paid the bill and stood up, stretching your arms as you prepared to leave. "Well, I’ll see you all soon." you said, nodding toward the three of them. "Try not to kill each other before then."
"No promises, Gen!" Gojo grinned, already halfway out the door, Suguru groaning in tow.
Shoko offered you a small wave as she followed them out, her calm demeanor as steady as ever.
Watching them go, you couldn't help but smile again. They were a lot like you and your old friends once were—full of potential, full of life. You only hoped they’d find a way to hold onto that as long as they could.
And for a brief moment, you found yourself thinking, Yeah, they would’ve gotten along just fine.
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HE WONDERS WHO YOU TRULY WERE. Suguru Geto had heard whispers about you long before he ever saw your face. The rumors circled like an ever-present breeze, spoken in quiet tones by those who thought no one was listening.
His father, who worked as a window for your mother’s family, often mentioned you in passing—a name that carried weight, history, and an air of mystery. 
The whispers painted a picture of someone who was more than just another sorcerer. You were part of an ancient clan, one of those distant, elusive families that even the higher-ups at Jujutsu High regarded with a level of reverence. And yet, despite the importance of your lineage, there was something different about you.
When Gojo Satoru spoke of you, it was always with a casual fondness, even if he had just met you the other day. It didn’t take Suguru long to piece together why. You and Satoru were very distant relatives, after all.
And your life was always going to be a part of that tangled web of sorcerer families that had been interwoven for centuries. But Satoru’s interest in you wasn’t just out of obligation, Suguru knew that much was obvious. 
There was something else there. Something about the way his normally cocky tone softened whenever your name came up, even if only slightly. He was interested in you, Suguru knows. Satoru thinks it's because you were just that good of a sorcerer.
 And your father being Zenin Naoki, it was a big deal. If they saw more of your technique, then Satoru would end up raving about it. But you weren’t around as much to show it. And with how good you were with cursed tools, Suguru doubted you ever needed to use your cursed technique.
Suguru had been curious, of course. How could he not be? Special-grade sorcerers weren’t exactly common, and from the rumors he had heard, you were even more active in the field than Yuki Tsukumo herself. That alone was enough to make anyone stand out. But it wasn’t just your power—it was the sheer volume of reports that came in after every mission you completed. 
From the bustling streets of Tokyo to the more traditional grounds of Kyoto Jujutsu High, your name seemed to pop up everywhere. And not in small ways, either. The curses you dealt with were of a caliber that even seasoned sorcerers hesitated to face. Yet you faced them head-on, time and time again.
Suguru leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the ceiling of his dorm room as he thought about it. He had never met someone so relentlessly active in the field. It was like you didn’t know how to slow down. Missions from one end of the country to the other, reports coming in almost daily… Did you even sleep? 
He frowned, the thought lingering in his mind. Even Tsukumo Yuki, at least what people whispered about her, as restless as she was, had her quiet moments of reflection, her times of retreat from the world. But you?
He hadn't even met you properly yet, but it was starting to feel like you were some kind of living legend, the sort of person who operated on a different plane of existence entirely.
“You think too much, Suguru!” came Satoru’s voice, snapping him out of his thoughts. Gojo was lounging on the bed across the room, balancing a ball of cursed energy on the tip of his finger, a bored expression on his face.
“Am I?” Suguru shot back, eyes narrowing slightly.
“Yeah, you’re always brooding.” Satoru replied, letting the ball of cursed energy dissipate. “You’ve been thinking about them, haven’t you?”
Suguru raised an eyebrow. "Them?"
Satoru grinned, almost like he was amused by the very thought. “You know, them. The one everyone keeps talking about. My oh-so-talented distant distant distant distant distant distant relative.”
Suguru crossed his arms, his curiosity now fully piqued. “I’ve heard the stories, sure. But it’s hard to believe someone is that active without collapsing from exhaustion at some point.”
Satoru laughed, loud and carefree. “Yeah, I’ve thought that too! But I saw them in action the other day. It’s wild. They’ve got this… I don’t know, this energy. Like they’re always moving, always thinking five steps ahead. It’s kinda scary, honestly.”
Suguru frowned, thinking back to the rumors. “I’ve seen the mission reports. They’re everywhere—Tokyo, Kyoto, even some out in the countryside. You’d think they’d take a break at some point.”
“Maybe they’re just a robot, you know?” Satoru said, half-joking. “A cursed spirit-fighting machine, programmed to never sleep.”
“Doubtful.” Suguru muttered, though the mental image was amusing. “But it’s strange. There’s something more to it. They’re not likeTsukumo–senpai, you know? Tsukumo–senpai’s off on her own things half the time, but you can tell she’s always thinking, always observing. From what I’ve heard, Gen–senpai just… goes. Like they’re on autopilot.”
Satoru shrugged, not seeming too concerned. “Eh, maybe it’s just their style. You’ll know more about them soon enough. Besides…..” he added with a teasing grin. “Gen–Senpai’s probably just like that. They’re probably just that good, like me!”
Suguru rolled his eyes. "That's not exactly comforting."
“You worry too much, Suguru. If they’re handling all these missions, that’s a good thing. It means less work for us.” Satoru shot him a thumbs up, clearly pleased with this logic.
Suguru sighed, glancing out the window. The sun was setting, casting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Somewhere out there, you were probably on another mission, dealing with a curse that would make most sorcerers hesitate. And here he was, wondering just what kind of person could keep that pace up without burning out.
“I just hope they know when to slow down.” Suguru muttered, almost to himself.
Satoru smirked, catching the comment. “I’m sure that Gen–senpai knows to pace themselves. They’re more senior than us, you know? Trust the process!”
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HE COULDN’T SLEEP. The cold mountain air greeted Suguru as he entered the small convenience store tucked away in the hills. He had been on a mission with Satoru and Shoko, but after hours of trekking through the wilderness and dealing with a minor cursed spirit, his stomach had started to complain loudly. As he wandered the aisles, looking for something that could pass for a meal, he caught a glimpse of someone familiar.
It was you.
Standing near the refrigerated section, you were calmly perusing the drinks. Suguru blinked, a bit surprised, but then it made sense. You were always on the move, tackling missions in places most sorcerers wouldn’t bother with. This isolated mountain range seemed right up your alley.
He offered a nod of acknowledgment, and you returned it, your expression neutral but not unfriendly. Suguru didn’t expect much conversation—after all, you were both here on business—but as he grabbed a rice ball and some instant noodles, he found himself wandering closer to where you stood.
"Didn't expect to see you here, Gen–senpai." Suguru said casually, placing his items in his basket. “Thought you’d be halfway across the country, based on the reports I’ve seen.”
You gave a small, almost imperceptible smile as you grabbed a bottle of green tea. “I was asked by a nearby temple to help strengthen their barrier defenses.”
Suguru raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued. “A temple, huh? So even the local monks know who to call when things get tough?”
You shrugged lightly, as if it were no big deal. “It’s a small place, but they’ve had problems with cursed spirits slipping through their wards recently. I figured I’d take care of it.”
“Sounds like a fun assignment.” Suguru smirked, grabbing a few more snacks from the shelf. "How long have you been here?"
“Just a couple of days.” you replied, your tone calm, as though discussing something routine. “Should be done by tomorrow.”
Suguru glanced at you, curious. “And after that? Another mission?”
You paused for a moment, as if considering your answer. “Most likely. There’s always something else.”
Suguru chuckled. “You really don’t stop, do you?”
“Neither do you, don’t you?” you countered, meeting his gaze with a knowing look. You smiled. “I blinked and suddenly a second year.”
He couldn’t help but smile at that. You had a point. "True, but I’m not out here fixing temple barriers in the middle of nowhere."
You tilted your head, a faint flicker of amusement in your eyes. “Someone has to.”
Suguru nodded, understanding the unspoken weight behind your words. The life of a sorcerer wasn’t exactly predictable, and while you handled more than your fair share of missions, you did it because you knew it was necessary.
“Well, if you ever need a break, we’re staying nearby. Satoru’s probably driving Shoko crazy by now. Seeing you would probably save her.” Suguru said with a grin, imagining his two teammates bickering back at their base.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” you said, though it was hard to tell whether you were serious or just humoring him. “If I finish fast, then I’ll contact you.”
Suguru gave a slight wave as he made his way to the checkout, his basket filled with enough food to get him through the night. As he left the store, he glanced back at you one more time. You were always moving, always working.
He wondered if you ever let yourself take a moment to breathe, but somehow, he doubted it. Still, for now, you were just two sorcerers in a convenience store, sharing a quiet moment amidst the chaos of your lives.
Suguru stood by the checkout counter, glancing at you with an expression somewhere between disbelief and confusion. He was sure you had a mission scheduled far from this remote mountain village. There had been reports—he knew the kind. It seemed like you were constantly juggling assignments from all over the country.
“You’re supposed to be somewhere else, right?” Suguru asked as you both placed your items on the counter.
“I know.” you replied, unfazed. “But I won't turn down a job.” Your tone was as steady as always, like this was just another day for you.
Suguru shook his head slightly, half impressed, half exasperated. You were relentless, never one to back down from work. He had heard plenty about how you balanced multiple missions in different regions. But there was something different about seeing it up close.
As the cashier rang up your items, Suguru reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet. But before he could hand over any cash, you placed a hand on his wrist and shook your head.
“Put it away, Geto–kun.” you said with a small, amused smile. “I can’t let a kouhai pay for things.”
Suguru blinked, slightly taken aback but not entirely surprised. You had an air of authority about you, not just in your skills but in how you carried yourself. He sighed, reluctantly slipping his wallet back into his coat.
“You sure?” he asked, though he already knew what your answer would be.
“I’m sure.” you replied smoothly as you handed the cashier the money for both your purchases. “I know you get paid as much as a minister like me, but it's better to keep that money for yourself. I’m not letting a kouhai pay.”
As you left the store, bags in hand, the cool evening air settled around the two of you. The path you were taking happened to lead in the same direction, toward both the shrine you were tasked with protecting and Suguru’s temporary accommodations. You fell into step beside each other, the quiet of the mountain enveloping the conversation.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you spoke up. “Geto–kun…. Why did you decide to become a sorcerer?”
Suguru glanced at you, puzzled by the sudden question. “Huh?”
You kept your gaze forward, the faint sound of your footsteps mingling with the rustling of the wind. “I’m just curious. Some people ignore the call. They choose to live normal lives. So… what’s your reason?”
Suguru blinked, surprised by the depth of your question. For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to answer. Most people didn’t bother asking why someone became a sorcerer. It was just assumed that if you had the ability, you used it. But you weren’t like most people.
He thought for a moment, his usual confidence dimmed slightly as he reflected on your question. “I guess… I wanted to protect those who can’t protect themselves.” he said eventually, his voice steady but sincere. “It sounds cliché, but that’s the truth. I want to be honorable in that duty.”
You looked at him, studying his expression. “Honorable, huh?”
He nodded, feeling a little more certain now. “Yeah. There’s a lot of bad out there, and I guess I just want to be someone who stands in the way of that.”
A faint smile touched your lips. “That’s a good answer, Geto–kun.”
He chuckled lightly, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah? Well, it’s the only one I’ve got.”
You both continued walking, the temple drawing closer in the distance. Suguru found himself thinking more about your question, wondering if maybe you had asked him because of your own reasons—your own constant, relentless drive to take on mission after mission. But he didn’t press. Not yet.
“Why do you ask?” he ventured, curiosity getting the better of him.
You shrugged. “Just wondered what keeps you going.”
Suguru smiled softly. “Same thing that keeps you going, I guess. We’re both too stubborn to quit.”
You smiled slightly as you listened to Suguru's answer, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "That’s not a bad reason, Geto–kun." you said, your tone warm but thoughtful.
Suguru shook his head with a faint grin. "Maybe not. But Satoru thinks differently. He says it’s naive.”
That earned a snicker from you, and you glanced at him with an amused glint in your eyes. "Gojo–kun knows too much about jujutsu society. That’s why he’s cynical. It's hard not to be when you're aware of all the ugliness." You paused for a moment, considering your words before speaking again, a little more seriously this time. “But your dreams, Geto–kun….they’re beautiful. You want to protect people. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Suguru blinked, a little surprised by the genuine compliment. He hadn’t expected to hear that from you—someone who was always so grounded, so focused on the realities of the world. For a moment, it felt like his idealism wasn’t something to be ashamed of.
But then your expression shifted, more serious now. "Just don’t bear it too heavily, okay?" you warned softly. “It’ll hurt you if you do.”
Suguru frowned slightly, sensing the weight behind your words. “What do you mean?”
You exhaled, your gaze fixed on the path ahead. “Being a jujutsu sorcerer is proportionality, Geto–kun. There’s a balance in what we do. If you shoulder too much—if you put everyone else ahead of yourself—it’ll tear you apart. I’ve seen it happen.”
Suguru listened carefully, taking in your words. He had always admired your strength and resolve, but there was something about the way you spoke now, as though you had learned these lessons the hard way. "I get what you’re saying, but... if I don’t do it, who will?"
You gave him a smile, as if you knew that line of thinking all too well. “You don’t have to bear it alone. That’s what I’m saying. Keep yourself in check. You’re still young. You have Gojo–kun, don’t you? He’s your person. Talk to him when things get too heavy.”
Suguru felt a warmth creep up his neck as your words settled in. He was caught off guard, an unexpected blush rising to his cheeks. “Uh… I mean, yeah, Satoru is definitely—” His voice trailed off as he searched for the right words, suddenly aware of how closely you were watching him. There was something undeniably comforting in your gaze, and it made his heart race.
You smiled at him, a soft and encouraging expression that felt like a warm blanket on a chilly day. “I had someone like that too, you know? So I speak from experience.”
Suguru’s eyes widened in surprise, his curiosity piqued. “You did?”
“Of course! Everyone needs a Gojo–kun in their life,” you said, your tone teasing but affectionate. “Someone to share the burden with, even if they annoy you half the time.”
Suguru couldn’t help but chuckle at that, a lightness filling the air between you. “That sounds like him.”
“Right?” you replied, laughter dancing in your voice. “But really, it’s more than just sharing the burdens. It’s about the support. They’re there to lift you up when you feel like you’re sinking.” You paused, looking away for a moment as if reflecting on your own experiences. “And to keep you from doing something really stupid.”
He tilted his head, a playful smirk forming. “Like what? Getting into trouble?”
You met his gaze, your smile transforming into something a bit more mischievous. “Oh, you know. Like trying to fight a curse way out of your league without backup.” You winked at him, and Suguru’s heart skipped a beat. The easy banter felt effortless, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift.
“I would never do something like that.” he protested, crossing his arms in mock indignation. “I’m far too responsible.”
“Responsible, huh?” You raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “I’ve seen the way you and him bicker. If that isn’t a recipe for trouble, I don’t know what is. Yaga must suffer having to deal with the two of you often, doesn’t he?”
Suguru laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, fair point. But you still have to admit that Satoru can be a handful.”
“True enough, I suppose.” you conceded with a playful grin. “But that’s what makes him so much fun. And it’s nice knowing that someone’s got your back, even if they’re a little ridiculous sometimes.”
Suguru’s heart warmed at your words, a feeling of camaraderie blossoming between you. “You’re right. I guess it’s nice knowing I can lean on him, even if he doesn’t always act like it.”
“Exactly!” you said, your enthusiasm infectious. “And you can lean on me too, you know. Just because I’m older doesn’t mean I have all the answers.”
Suguru smiled, a genuine warmth spreading through him. “Thanks. That means a lot.” He paused, hesitating for a moment before speaking again. “So, who was your ‘person’?”
You looked away, your expression turning thoughtful as you seemed to reflect on a memory that danced just out of reach. The shift was subtle, but he noticed how the light in your eyes dimmed slightly, as if the joy of the moment had been overshadowed by something unspoken.
“Let’s just say… life doesn’t always work out the way you expect.” you replied softly, the weight of your past hanging in the air. “And it didn’t work with that person.”
Suguru’s heart ached for you, sensing that there was more to your story than you let on. But before he could press for details, you turned back to him, the sparkle in your eyes returning as if you were determined to lighten the mood. “But enough about me! Let’s focus on your beautiful dreams of saving the world. I mean, someone has to keep Gojo–kun in check, right?”
His laughter filled the space between you, dispelling the heaviness that had crept in for just a moment. “Yeah, that sounds like a full-time job!”
“Then I suggest you get plenty of rest, then.” you said, your tone teasing but genuine. “You’ll need all the energy you can get if you plan to take on both Gojo–kun and the curses. Don’t get injured too much too. Ieiri–chan deserves better than to suffer so much of you.”
Suguru nodded, feeling buoyed by the conversation. He didn’t quite know how to express it, but he felt a deeper connection with you—something that transcended the usual mentor-mentee relationship. You understood him in a way that was comforting and invigorating all at once.
As you both continued walking, the setting sun painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, he couldn’t help but feel grateful. “Thanks for talking, really. It helps to know I’m not alone in all of this, Gen–senpai.”
You smiled back at him, a soft, genuine expression that made his heart skip again. “Anytime, Geto–kun. Remember, you’ve got more support than you think. Call me when you need me.”
“Y–yes, Gen–senpai.”
You gave him a small nod, though your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Then I’ll be off. You worked hard today, Geto–kun. You should get some sleep.”
With that, you turned and began walking away, your footsteps steady yet purposeful. Geto Suguru hesitated for a moment, but he knew you had other matters to take care of. For the first time in a while, he thinks he doesn’t want you to go.
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HE DOESN’T KNOW IF THIS WAS BOUND TO HAPPEN. But this is what happened as time went on. Geto Suguru walked along the winding path, the fading light of dusk casting long shadows behind him.
As he pondered the warmth of your recent conversation, a thought flickered in the back of his mind, growing more insistent with each passing moment. Could his heart grow bigger?
He had always felt love for Satoru and every day, it seemed to grow fonder, wanting, fiery; it was a bond forged through shared struggles, laughter, and an unspoken understanding that went deeper than words.
But now, as he reflected on all the times you had been there for him—guiding him through his studies, sharing your insights on cursed techniques, and even demonstrating how to wield cursed objects—he realized that his feelings for you had blossomed into something unexpected.
Every time Suguru sought your advice, you responded without a moment’s hesitation. Whether it was late at night, after exhausting missions, or in the quiet spaces between battles, you always made time for him.
You never wavered, never hesitated to share your knowledge, your insight. It was more than just advice; you offered your kindness, your quiet strength, in a way that left him feeling both deeply grateful and, at times, overwhelmed by the depth of your care.
He had never been good at asking for help. Even back then, pride had been one of his most stubborn traits. Yet with you, it felt different. He didn’t need to ask twice. You were always there—an unwavering presence amidst the chaos of their lives as sorcerers. You were someone who believed in him, even on the days when he struggled to believe in himself.
"How do you do it?" Suguru asked one evening after a particularly grueling mission. His voice was softer than usual, his usual sharp edge dulled by exhaustion and something heavier, more introspective. The two of you were sitting on the steps of Jujutsu High, the weight of the day’s battle settling in your bones, the moon casting a faint glow over the courtyard.
"Do what?" you asked, turning to face him, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. Your eyes sparkled with that same warmth he had come to rely on, the one that could lighten the weight of the world in a single glance.
"Stay... so steady." he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck, almost embarrassed by the vulnerability in his question. "No matter what happens, no matter how heavy it all gets… you never falter. How do you keep going?"
You looked at him for a long moment, as if considering your answer, before your smile deepened. "Because it’s not just about me, Geto–kun. It’s about the people I care about. People like you, Gojo—kun…..my friends. That’s what keeps me steady. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard."
Suguru’s throat tightened, and he looked away, his gaze drifting toward the darkened horizon. He wasn’t used to hearing those kinds of words—not directed at him. Not with such sincerity. "You make it sound so easy, senpai." he said, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. "But sometimes it’s hard to keep going when everything feels like it’s falling apart."
You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you reached out and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, the warmth of your touch grounding him in the moment. "It’s not easy. But you don’t have to carry it all by yourself, Geto–kun. You don’t have to face it alone."
He glanced at you then, his dark eyes meeting yours, searching for something in your gaze. You had always been there, always offering him that unwavering support, that steady presence he had come to admire so much.
It wasn’t just your strength as a sorcerer that left him in awe, though you were undeniably powerful. It was your heart. The way you cared, the way you saw through his defenses and believed in him—even when he didn’t deserve it.
"You’re always saying stuff like that." he said, his voice quieter now, more introspective. "Like it’s no big deal, like it’s just… who you are."
You tilted your head slightly, your smile softening. "Because it is who I am, Geto–kun. And who I’ll always be."
For a long time, neither of you spoke. Suguru felt the weight of those words, the sincerity in them wrapping around him like a balm to his weary soul. He admired you, more than he could ever put into words.
It wasn’t just your strength or your skills as a sorcerer that left him in awe; it was this—your unshakable kindness, your ability to see through the darkness and offer him light, no matter how heavy things became.
Suguru let those words settle over him, the warmth of your presence easing the ache in his chest, even if only for a little while. And in that moment, he realized that no matter how heavy the burdens became, no matter how far he fell—he’d always have this. He’d always have you, a constant light in his life, even when everything else seemed to crumble.
But he couldn’t help wondering, deep down, if he’d ever be able to hold onto it. Or if the darkness inside him would eventually swallow it whole.
He exhaled slowly, leaning back on his elbows, gazing up at the sky. "You know….." he said after a while, "it’s not just Satoru I stay for. You’re… you’re part of the reason too, Gen–senpai."
Your smile wavered, just for a moment, your gaze softening as you studied him. "I’m glad to hear that." you said quietly. "I’m really glad, Geto–kun.”
“Suguru.”
“Hm?”
“Senpai, you can call me Suguru too.” He whispers as he looks at you. “You call Satoru and Shoko by their names now. You don’t have to call me so…so formally.”
“Oh.” You say and then you smile. “Have I made you feel distant? I’m sorry, Suguru–kun.”
“N–no….it’s okay, senpai.”
“I’ll make it up to you, Suguru–kun.” You say, pulling at his hand and grinned. “Come on, I’ll get us both some chocolate milk in the vending machine.”
“Senpai—”
You giggled. “Come, Suguru–kun!”
Amid this warm affection, uncertainty gnawed at him. Would you ever return such feelings? Did you even see him in that light? And then there was Satoru—his best friend, his other half. How could he possibly explain these newfound feelings? Would Satoru understand, or would he see it as a betrayal?
Suguru sighed, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. Burying these feelings felt like the only option. It was better to keep them hidden, to preserve the relationships he cherished rather than risk losing them all.
After all, love was complicated enough in their world, full of curses and dangers; why complicate it further with feelings that might never see the light of day?
He glanced up at the sky, the first stars twinkling into view. As much as he wanted to be honest with you, the fear of rejection held him back. It was safer to keep his heart guarded, to let the affection remain a quiet ember in the depths of his soul rather than a blazing fire that might scorch everything he held dear.
As he walked, he couldn’t help but think of you, the way your laughter lit up the dullest of days, the kindness in your voice that made everything seem possible. You were someone worth cherishing, someone who had woven your way into the fabric of his life without him even realizing it.
Suguru led you into his room, a cozy space filled with posters of various bands and an impressive collection of CDs lining the shelves. He smiled sheepishly, his fingers brushing against the cases as he gestured for you to take a closer look.
But for now, he would remain silent, allowing his heart to hold onto those feelings, tucking them away in a corner where they wouldn’t threaten to disrupt the fragile balance of his relationships.
It was a bittersweet decision, one that left him feeling both relieved and sorrowful as he continued down the path, the shadows of the mountains rising around him like an embrace—dark, protective, and filled with the weight of unspoken love.
“Uh, so this is my collection. You told me that you like this sort of music.” he said, a hint of pride lacing his words, though his cheeks flushed slightly as he glanced at you. “I’ve been collecting for a while now.”
You stepped closer, examining the colorful album covers and their eclectic mix of genres. “Wow, Suguru! This is impressive! I didn’t know you were such a music aficionado.” you remarked, genuinely intrigued.
His bashfulness intensified at the compliment, and he scratched the back of his neck, a shy grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, well, it’s just something I really enjoy. It helps me focus when I’m training, you know?”
You nodded, picking up a CD with a vibrant cover. “I can see why! Your taste is really good! I mean, look at this—Queen, Bowie? They’re amazing! How did you even discover them?”
Suguru’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink, and he shrugged, trying to downplay your praise. “Oh, I just… stumbled upon them a while back. They have a unique sound that I like.”
You laughed softly, putting the CD back on the shelf and meeting his gaze. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. Seriously, these choices are fantastic. You’ve got a great ear for music!”
His bashful smile widened, and he felt a warm flutter in his chest. “Thanks. I just like to find music that speaks to me.” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t think anyone would really notice.”
“Of course, I notice! Music has a way of bringing people together, and I think it’s awesome that you have such a passion for it.” you encouraged, leaning against the shelf and crossing your arms, your smile encouraging. “You should share it more often!”
Suguru fidgeted slightly, glancing down at the CDs as if they held the answers to his swirling emotions. “Maybe... I just never thought it was a big deal, senpai.” he mumbled, his gaze drifting back to you, a flicker of hope sparking in his chest.
“Well, I think it is.” you said firmly, your eyes sparkling with sincerity. “I’d love to hear your favorites sometime. Maybe we could listen together? Bring Satoru–kun and Shoko–chan. I’m sure Yu–kun and Kento–kun. I’m sure we’ll have fun together, don’t you think?”
His heart raced at the idea, and he nodded slowly, a smile breaking through his bashfulness. “Yeah, that sounds great. I’d like that, senpai.” he replied, his voice steadying as he felt a new sense of confidence in your presence. “On your next day off, I suppose.”
You grinned, feeling a warmth spread between you. “It’s a deal, then! Just warn me if you’re about to play something super embarrassing.”
Suguru chuckled, the tension easing. “I’ll do my best, but no promises. I have a few guilty pleasures.”
“I’ll hold you to that, Suguru-kun.” you teased, your laughter filling the room and making Suguru feel a little more at ease, his heart buoyed by the connection growing between you.
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HE THINKS HE FEELS WHOLE WHEN HE’S WITH SATORU. But even as Suguru grappled with his thoughts, a flicker of hope ignited within him. He often found himself wondering if he would feel even more complete when he, you, and Satoru were together. The notion that the three of you could create something beautiful filled him with a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.
It was in the quiet moments he treasured the most—the laughter shared over late-night snacks, the easy camaraderie that unfolded when you all trained together, pushing one another to be better.
The way your eyes sparkled with mischief when you planned pranks on Satoru or the way Satoru’s laughter rang out like music, brightening the air around you both. Suguru couldn’t shake the feeling that these moments, filled with laughter and love, would fill the empty spaces inside him, the ones he hadn’t known were there until you came into his life.
He had seen the dynamic unfold before him. You and Satoru, with your effortless chemistry, often made him feel like an outsider looking in, yet there was a part of him that ached for that connection. The thought of you all laughing together, of sharing joy and camaraderie, tugged at his heartstrings. It was a simple dream, but one that seemed almost unattainable.
In his more vulnerable moments, he’d fantasized about the three of you taking on missions together. “Can you imagine?” he’d whispered to you one evening, the stars glittering overhead. “Just the three of us, fighting side by side. I think we could take on anything.”
You had chuckled softly, your eyes shining with warmth. “We’d be unstoppable!” you replied, your tone light yet filled with genuine belief. “We’d have fun too, and maybe even find a way to make it all bearable.”
Suguru nodded, savoring the idea. But there was still an ache in his heart, a worry that he might ruin it somehow, that he might overshadow the happiness you shared with Satoru.
The darkness that he often felt creeping at the edges of his mind made him question if he could truly be a part of that happiness. Would he be an anchor weighing you down, or could he learn to fly alongside you both?
As he watched you and Satoru interact, he often found himself captivated by the way you lit up around each other. The way you made each other laugh, the shared glances filled with unspoken understanding. 
He could see the joy radiating from you both, and it stirred something deep within him—a longing for connection, for belonging. Suguru had never considered himself a jealous person, but witnessing the bond between you and Satoru often left him with a bittersweet taste in his mouth.
But there was also a growing realization: he didn’t have to fit into the mold of either of you. He could bring his own light to the trio, his own flavor to the friendship. Each of you had your strengths and weaknesses, and together, you could create something beautiful—a tapestry woven from laughter, shared struggles, and undeniable bonds.
He let himself imagine those scenarios, the three of you exploring the city at night, catching dinner at your favorite spot, or the three of you sprawled out on the floor, playing video games until dawn. Geto Suguru envisioned the sound of your laughter ringing through the air, the feeling of camaraderie that would surround you like a warm embrace.
In those fleeting moments of hope, he realized that he could be happy. You had already shown him that he could find joy again, even amidst the shadows. If he could just allow himself to take the leap, to embrace the uncertainty, maybe he would find himself even fuller—more vibrant—when you, Satoru, and he were together.
Suguru knew it wouldn’t be easy. He had demons to battle, insecurities that needed confronting, but with you and Satoru by his side, perhaps he could learn to navigate those turbulent waters. And as he caught your gaze across the room one day, that hopeful warmth bloomed in his chest, pushing away the lingering doubts that had clouded his mind.
Maybe he thought. We really could have fun together. Maybe we could create something that would light up the darkest corners of our hearts. 
And for the first time in a long time, the possibility of a brighter future seemed within reach, one filled with laughter, love, and unbreakable bonds.
Satoru and Suguru sat down in his bed for a long while after a night spent tangled in each other's arms. The moonlight filtered softly through the windows, casting a silver glow over their quiet breaths. Their bodies still thrummed with the lingering heat, but in the calm that followed, there was space for something deeper. 
Satoru, leaning back with a gentle sigh, broke the silence. "I think... I’ve fallen in love with them." he confessed, his voice soft, almost vulnerable. He looked at Suguru. “Gen–senpai.”
Suguru turned his head slightly, his dark purple eyes finding Satoru’s, a hint of surprise flickering across his features. He didn’t speak right away, but then, slowly, a quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest. He smiled against his shoulder. “Yeah… I have too.”
The corner of Satoru’s lips quivered into a warm smile, eyes soft as he looked at Suguru. “It doesn’t make me love you any less, you know.” he said, sincerity coloring every word.
Suguru’s laughter bubbled up again, deeper this time, as he shook his head. “I know that.” he replied, eyes twinkling. “It just means we’ve both grown a bigger heart, doesn’t it?”
Satoru nodded, reaching out to brush a lock of hair away from Suguru’s face. “I want to make them happy. I want to protect them from the world, the way I do you. I want us to be happy together.”
Suguru leaned into Satoru’s touch, his own smile softening. “I want the same thing.” His voice held the weight of a promise, one made in the stillness of the night, where only truth lingered between them.
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AND YET, NOTHING EVER GOES TO HUMAN WISHES. The world had shattered when Amanai Riko died, a blow so devastating it left an unfillable void. The trauma of loss, grief, and anguish twisted within Geto Suguru like a storm he could no longer control. 
He had always been strong, holding the weight of so many expectations, but that moment—the senseless death of someone they were meant to protect—was the catalyst that began his unraveling.
You had been furious. Suguru had seen it, felt it in the way your energy crackled with righteous anger on their behalf. You had stormed into arguments with Yaga and Gakuganji, your voice sharp with frustration. 
You called them out, unrelenting, accusing them of failing Suguru and Satoru, of putting too much on their shoulders. You offered to take on their missions, as if sacrificing yourself would shield them from the horrors of this world. Suguru had appreciated your fierce loyalty, but he also saw through the mask you wore.
He saw the weariness in your eyes, the deep, bone-deep fatigue that mirrored his own. You were just as tired, just as broken by this life as he was, and yet you clung to hope—for them, if not for yourself. But hope wasn't enough to keep the darkness at bay.
Over time, the distance between them grew like a slow tear in fabric—once so tightly knit, now fraying at the edges. Suguru and Satoru, the strongest, the unbreakable pair, were drifting apart. The burdens neither of them could fully share weighed heavier with each passing day. 
Satoru, with all his strength, was consumed by his own responsibilities, the guilt over Riko’s death haunting him like a shadow. He was there, but only in the physical sense, his heart and mind distant, somewhere beyond reach.
And you—you were caught in the middle, silently holding together Suguru’s burdens on top of your own. You were trying to hold everything together, the glue between the cracks that had begun to form. You had always been the one to fight for them, to step into the line of fire if it meant protecting them from pain. But this pain was different. It was insidious, creeping into every corner of your life, until it weighed so heavy you could hardly breathe.
"Are you okay?" Suguru had asked you one evening, his voice soft but lined with concern. His eyes searched yours, as if trying to find the answer you wouldn’t say.
You had smiled, that same practiced, hollow smile that had become second nature. "I’m fine, Suguru–kun." you replied, your voice steady but empty.
Suguru frowned, his brow furrowing as he leaned forward, his hand reaching for yours. "You don’t have to be fine all the time. Not with me."
"I am fine." you repeated, pulling your hand away gently, your heart heavy with the lie. You wanted to believe it, for his sake and your own. But you weren’t fine. Not at all.
You were just as broken as he was. Maybe more.
Then Haibara died.
It wasn’t just another loss—it was the breaking point. Haibara was one of the brightest lights in their dark world, a beacon of hope, of goodness. His death wasn’t just tragic—it was devastating, senseless, another reminder of how cruel and indifferent the world was.
That night, Suguru came to you, his face pale, eyes hollow with grief. He didn’t say anything for a long time. He just stood in your doorway, the weight of everything that had happened hanging in the air like a fog. You could feel the walls closing in around both of you, the suffocating pressure of everything you had tried so hard to ignore.
"I can’t do this anymore, Gen–senpai." Suguru finally said, his voice raw, barely above a whisper. He stepped into the room, his movements slow, deliberate, like he was carrying the world on his shoulders. "I can’t watch this happen over and over again."
You swallowed the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. "Suguru…"
"No, no." he cut you off, shaking his head as he sat down beside you. "I’m done pretending. I’m done lying to myself that we’re doing something good here. That this means anything."
You looked at him, your heart aching at the defeat in his voice. "It does mean something," you said, though even as the words left your mouth, they felt empty. How many times had you told yourself that same thing, hoping it would be enough to keep you going?
Suguru’s gaze met yours, and in his eyes, you saw it—the breaking. The man you once knew, the one who had carried the weight of others without hesitation, was falling apart. He let out a bitter laugh, one that sent a shiver down your spine. 
"Does it? Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it anymore. I’ve watched too many people die. Too many good people. And for what? So the next mission can take the next person? So we can lose more friends, more lives, and call it ‘necessary’?"
You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. Because deep down, you agreed. Haibara’s death had been a tipping point for you, too. You were so tired—so tired. Of fighting, of losing, of trying to keep it all together. And Satoru… He had been slipping further and further away, lost in his own world of guilt and self-reproach, leaving you to carry the pieces of what was left.
"I wanted to save people." Suguru continued, his voice cracking as his hands balled into fists. "But I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t save Haibara. I can’t save anyone. Not anymore."
He looked up at you, his eyes filled with something dark, something final. "It’s broken, and I don’t know how to fix it anymore."
You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. "You don’t have to fix it, Suguru–kun. We’ll get through this. We always do."
He gave you a sad smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. "I don’t think I can do that anymore."
And then, in the stillness of the night, something in Suguru snapped. You could see it—the cold, detached resolve settling over him like a heavy cloak. The next thing you knew, he had left, and when he came back, it was with blood on his hands.
He had murdered that village. And the man you knew, the man who had once fought so hard to protect, was gone.
The weight of the sorrow, the anger, the pain. All of it became too much to bear. He saw the world for what it was: a place full of suffering that would never stop unless someone made it stop. 
And so, in the dead of night, he walked into that village, his heart cold, his mind set on a singular purpose. He slaughtered them all—men, women, children as if purging the world of that one village might somehow ease the weight in his chest.
It didn’t.
But it was the moment Geto Suguru stopped trying to be the person he once was. And it was the night he fully embraced the path that would lead him to become something else—someone who no longer fought for the world, but against it.
The first person he came to see after it all happened was you.
Suguru stood in your doorway, still dressed in his bloodstained uniform, his face unreadable beneath the coldness that had settled in his eyes. The moonlight cast pale shadows across his face, but you weren’t stunned by his presence. 
You had already known—felt it the moment it happened. What he had done. It was like that night with Kaiko all over again, when she had shown up before you, her hands dripping with blood, her eyes empty of remorse.
You stared at him, your expression calm, though your heart weighed heavy in your chest. "Why are you here, Suguru?" you asked, your voice soft, almost tired. You had been waiting for this.
He didn’t answer right away. His eyes flickered across your face, searching for something—understanding, maybe. Forgiveness, perhaps. He stepped into your space, his presence filling the room, but the warmth that once came with him was gone.
"I’m building something new." he said quietly. "A world where we don’t have to suffer anymore. Where we’re free from this endless cycle of death and pain." His voice was steady, but there was something hollow in it, something broken that couldn’t be fixed. "I came to ask if you’d come with me."
You blinked, his words hanging in the air between you like a heavy fog. "Why me?" you asked, your eyes meeting him, searching for something in the depths of his darkness. "Why not ask Satoru?"
Suguru flinched, just barely, but enough for you to notice. His jaw clenched, and he didn’t answer. He looked away, as if the mention of Satoru’s name was too much, too painful. It said everything you needed to know without him having to say a word.
You sighed softly, sadness curling in your chest like a quiet ache. You smiled at him then, a soft, bittersweet smile, filled with the weight of everything left unsaid. You deeply adored him, cared for him, just as you do with Satoru, but this wasn’t the path you could walk. Not this.
"I’m sorry, Suguru." you whispered, your voice trembling at the edges.
His eyes met yours again, and for a moment—just a fleeting second—you saw the man you once knew. The man who cared, who wanted to save people, who carried the world with you. But it was gone just as quickly as it came, swallowed by the void he had fallen into.
He nodded, his expression hardening once more. He didn’t say anything as he turned to leave, but the silence between you was louder than words. You watched him go, knowing that the Suguru you once knew had already walked away long before he came to you tonight.
And all you could do was whisper to the emptiness left in his wake, "I’m sorry."
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epilogue
YOU NEVER EXPECTED IT. It was 2014, the first time you had seen him in years. You were in Hida, nestled in the tranquility of the forest, resting after Satoshi’s birth. The crisp mountain air surrounded you, the soft rustle of leaves above matching the rhythm of your quiet hum as you cradled your son in your arms.
Leaning against the broad trunk of a tree, you let the peacefulness of the moment wrap around you, the soft melody filling the air as Satoshi dozed in your embrace.
You sensed him before you saw him—Suguru. His presence had always been familiar, a deep current of energy that used to pull you in, but now it was different, muted somehow. When you finally looked up, there he was, standing just a few feet away, watching you with the ghost of a smile on his lips.
“Is that the same song you used to hum to me when you brushed my hair?” he asked, his voice low, carrying the weight of memories with it.
Your fingers stilled for a moment in Satoshi’s soft hair, and you turned your gaze back to your son, trying to keep the ache in your chest at bay. "What are you doing here, Suguru?" you asked quietly, your eyes focused on the peaceful rise and fall of Satoshi’s breathing, trying to steady your own.
He stepped closer, moving with that same graceful ease you remembered. "I wanted to visit you," he said, the smile widening just a fraction. It wasn’t the smile you remembered—the warmth had long since faded from it, replaced with something distant, something unreadable.
You didn’t look up as he sat down beside you, close but not touching, the space between you now more than just physical distance. You hummed softly in response, acknowledging his presence but keeping your focus on Satoshi. "You’ve gotten better at hiding your cursed scent." you remarked, your tone light, though the words carried a quiet truth.
Suguru hummed back, leaning against the tree beside you, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Thank you for the compliment."
For a moment, there was silence between you, the only sounds were the soft rustling of leaves and the faint cooing of Satoshi. The years that had passed felt like lifetimes, like different worlds had formed between you. And yet, in that quiet moment, it felt almost like before. Almost.
But not quite.
"Things change." Suguru said after a while, his voice soft, almost contemplative. You didn’t respond, just continued humming the tune you once sang to him all those years ago, when the world was different, when you were different. He listened quietly, the weight of his presence beside you both a comfort and a reminder of the distance that could never fully be bridged.
You didn’t need to ask why he was really there. You already knew. He wasn’t just visiting. He was mourning you, mourning Satoru. Mourning this life. Right in front of you.
You glanced at him, the man you hadn’t seen in so long, the ghost of someone you once knew. “How have you been, Suguru?” you asked softly, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer, or if it even mattered after all this time.
He smiled, a shadow of the one you remembered from years ago. “I’ve been well,” he said, though the weight in his voice suggested otherwise. He was never one to reveal his heart so easily, especially now, when the chasm between you both felt endless.
You nodded, accepting the answer for what it was. Then, after a moment, you asked, “Do you know Satoru’s coming to visit me?”
Suguru didn’t hesitate, his smile turning a touch wry. “I know, I know.” he said, his tone laced with familiarity. “I can smell Satoru from miles away.”
You hummed in response, a quiet acknowledgment of the strange and complicated bond they still shared. The tension between them had always been palpable, the kind that came from loving someone too deeply, from sharing too much history and heartache.
At that moment, Satoshi stirred in your arms, his tiny fists unclenching as his eyes slowly fluttered open. He blinked up at Suguru, his deep blue eyes—the same piercing shade as Satoru’s—curious and bright.
Suguru looked at him for a long moment, and a faint smile tugged at his lips. “He reminds me of Satoru.” he murmured, his voice softened, the edge gone. There was a warmth in his gaze that was almost foreign to you now.
You smiled softly, nodding. “He should. I married Satoru, and Satoshi is our son.”
For a brief moment, Suguru’s eyes clouded with something you couldn’t quite name—an echo of something long gone, something distant and unreachable. You wondered if it was regret. Regret for the life he could have had, for the choices he made that led him away from this quiet happiness.
You couldn’t help but think of what could have been—how different things would be if he had stayed. If you had been together, building a life, raising Satoshi together. It would have been a beautiful life, you thought, with him in it.
Suguru reached out, his fingers gentle as they traced the soft curve of Satoshi’s cheek. His touch was delicate, almost reverent. He whispered a blessing under his breath, a prayer for a long, happy life, his voice barely audible but filled with a tenderness that tugged at your heart.
You watched him, your chest tightening with the weight of everything left unsaid. “Suguru…” you whispered, your voice trembling, almost heartbroken. The reality of the moment pressed in on you, the finality of it.
He looked at you then, his eyes soft but distant, as if he had already begun to slip away. “I have to go now.” he said quietly, standing up, his movements slow, deliberate. “Satoru grows near.”
You couldn’t stop him, though a part of you wanted to reach out, to pull him back into your life, to ask him to stay, to find some way to heal what had been broken. But you knew it was too late for that.
But that life was not yours to live. Not anymore.
As Suguru stood up to leave, the words spilled from your lips before you could stop them. "If Kaiko was the light of my life, and Satoru the love of my life…." you said, your voice barely a whisper, trembling with emotion. "Then you, Suguru… you are the loss of my life."
For a moment, he paused, his back still turned to you. The silence stretched between you, heavy with the weight of everything that had been broken, of everything that could never be repaired. Slowly, Suguru turned to face you, and when he did, there was that smile again—so soft, so sad, it made your heart ache.
"I know." he whispered, his voice gentle but lined with sorrow. His dark eyes met yours, filled with the kind of understanding that only comes with time, with regret. "You and Satoru were mine."
The truth of it hung between you, raw and painful. Your heart clenched, and the tears you had been holding back finally broke free. You bit your lip, trying to stifle the sobs, but the grief you had carried for so long, the grief of losing him, of losing what you all could have been, spilled out like a wound reopening.
Satoshi stirred in your arms, his little face scrunching in concern. Noticing your tears, he reached up with his tiny baby hands, clumsily trying to wipe them away. His touch was soft, innocent, and it only made your heart ache more. You held him close, your tears falling onto his soft hair, as you tried to compose yourself.
Suguru watched for a moment, his expression unreadable, as if he were memorizing this final image of you and Satoshi, this life he had chosen to walk away from. And then, without another word, he turned and left.
You watched him go, your vision blurred by tears, your heart breaking with each step he took away from you. This was the end—the last goodbye. The loss you had always feared would come, finally settling into your bones, leaving behind a hollow, aching space that would never be filled.
Satoshi cooed softly, still reaching for your face, his small hands warm against your skin. You held him close, feeling the bittersweet weight of your love for him, for Satoru, for Suguru—all of it tangled together in a web of memories and emotions that would never fully fade.
Suguru was gone, and with him, the last piece of a life you once dreamed of.
Gojo Satoru arrived not long after, his familiar presence filling the quiet space of the forest as he approached. You looked up from where you sat, still holding Satoshi close. The moment his eyes met yours, you saw the flicker of concern cross his face. He noticed, of course. He always did.
"Hey." he said softly, crouching down beside you, his voice gentle as the breeze. His gaze lingered on your face, taking in the remnants of the tears you had wiped away.
You smiled at him, the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, but one you hoped would be enough. “I cried because Satoshi’s just so adorable, Satoru.” you said, your voice light, almost playful, as you nuzzled your son’s soft hair. “Our son’s beautiful, don’t you think?”
Satoru looked at you, and even though you knew he didn’t believe you, he didn’t press. His blue eyes searched yours for a moment longer before his lips quivered into a knowing, sad smile. “Is that so?” he murmured, tilting his head as if playing along. 
He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his warmth grounding you in a way only he could. Then, with the same tenderness, he kissed Satoshi’s little head, making your son giggle softly in your arms.
But you knew he could sense it—Suguru’s lingering presence in the air, in the space you all once shared. Satoru’s bond with Suguru was something words could never fully capture, and even if they hadn’t spoken in years, he could feel that he had been here. You could see it in the way his shoulders tensed ever so slightly, the way his smile faltered for a split second before he steadied himself.
And you knew, in that quiet, unspoken way between the two of you, that Satoru was mourning too. Not just for Suguru’s absence in his life, but for the life that could have been—what you all could have had if things had been different.
But like always, Satoru didn’t say anything about it. He just stayed there, next to you, his presence a comfort as Satoshi began to babble happily, oblivious to the undercurrent of sadness hanging in the air. You leaned into Satoru, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, as the quiet settled between you.
Together, you mourned for Suguru in the silence. You didn’t need to say it. He didn’t need to ask. You both understood the ache that would always remain for the one who had been lost to you both.
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audliminal · 1 month ago
Text
Survivability Bias Pt 4
Masterpost Ao3
“Cassiopeia,” Danny murmurs, his eyes never leaving the glimmering void above him. “Though epsilon looks dimmer than it usually is. I wonder if it still has a ring...” Around him, the world is shadowed, the distant lights of cities visible on the horizon but not bright enough to truly disrupt his view of the night sky. It had been a bit nerve-wracking leaving the town, but he’d been making an effort to lay low for the last week, and had seen nothing to indicate anyone was coming to search for him. The idea of visiting the firefighters still makes his skin itch, but a little trip to stargaze had started seeming like a reasonable risk to take, and with the calm expanse of void above him, Danny can feel something deep inside of him settle. The buzz of fear that’s been around since before he even got here evaporates, as he counts the stars and constellations. They’re not all the same, Cygnus seems to be mostly missing, and a few of the individual stars Danny remembers seem to be gone, but for the most part, it’s the same. Certainly more familiar than anything else has been so far. The technology here is all far more advanced than anything Danny’s seen before, which is ironic considering the portal.
It’s funny, really that he can be this far away from home (a literally incalculable distance), and the stars are still generally the same. Even the ones that are new are still stars; still the same burning masses fueled by fusion and gravity, and feeding the universe at large with new material. They're still millions of light-years away, and yet they’ve been there for so long, streaming their light into a void, where it can eventually reach this very spot where Danny’s currently standing. All his problems seem so small in the face of the great expanse of space.
“Amazing!” Danny exclaims, letting himself just laugh with delight. Maybe he’s alone here, but has he ever felt this free before? Nobody to drag him away, or force him into fights, or yell at him about the chores he hasn’t done yet. Hell, if he really wanted to, he just take off, go hang out in space, maybe fly until he finds one of those alien planets that he’d seen mentioned on Wikipedia. Sure, it would probably take a stupid amount of time to get there, but he could , if he wanted.
Behind him, there’s a rush of air, and the sound of a person taking a breath, and Danny tears his gaze away from the stars, flipping himself into a fighting stance as he runs through the list of heroes he’d read about, trying to remember which of them could fly. As he turns, his eyes lock on to another boy, though, that looks to be close to Danny’s own age.
“Woah, dude.” The boy says, holding his hands up and floating a few feet backwards. “I’m not here to fight?”
“Then why are you here?” Danny asks. He is just a kid, so like, maybe , it’s safe, but also the symbol on the kids chest is the same one Superman was wearing, so he could just be a recruit or something.
“I dunno, man, I just heard you talking and got curious? Not exactly many people around that can just hang out in the sky, you know. I can leave if you want.” The other  boy’s expression seems sincere. Mostly he looks startled and a bit uncertain, and deeply unlike the weird, heroic, confident posture that Superman seemed to have in every picture. This guy looks like he’s trying to look confident, sure, but not like he actually is .
“You’re not Superman, but you’re wearing his logo.” Danny says. Dropping his stance, but not letting himself fully relax. Just because it’s not a fight, doesn’t mean he’s safe, after all.
“Yeah, uh, I’m Superboy.”
“Superboy,” Danny echoes. “I read something about sidekicks? Is that-” Danny cuts himself off when the other boy winces.
“No, I’m not his sidekick. More like he’s helping to train me. We’ve got the same powers, so... Yeah.”
“Huh. Training sounds... Nice? What’s that like?” Honestly, training sounds downright miraculous. Danny hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the destruction caused by the train crash, and how everyone in Amity had always complained about the damage caused by ghost fights. He hasn’t forgotten how much he’d gotten himself hurt in those early days either, not that anyone else had ever noticed that bit.
“Yeah, I guess it’s nice. I take it you don’t have a mentor, then?”
“I’m not a hero.”
“No? I thought- I mean, you look a lot like the description of the guy who helped with the train crash over in Concord.” Superboy frowns, glancing off in the direction of Danny’s hometown.
“I mean, yeah that was me but I’m not. I don’t wanna fight anyone.”
“Oh, yeah that’s totally fair.” Superboy immediately responds with a laugh. “Honestly most of what we do isn’t actually fighting people, so y’know. You don’t have to be a fighter to be a hero.”
“Oh.” That kinda makes sense. After all, Danny had done a lot of fighting back home, and nobody had called him a hero there.
“Yeah, it’s like. There’s a lot of stuff about emergency response and civilian rescue and stuff. Hell, from what I understand half of what the Bats do is just, like detective work. That’s a lot of what my training’s for, actually. I’m pretty good at destroying stuff, I guess, but Supes says I need better control, before I can be trusted to handle relief stuff, because I might accidentally hurt people with my strength or something.”
“That’s. Cool, I guess?” Danny risks a glance up at the stars. No attack comes with Danny’s split attention, though after a moment, Superboy slowly floats over to his side.
“What are you looking at?”
“The stars.”
“Just, like, in general?” Superboy asks. He sounds dubious, and Danny can feel him glancing between him and the sky every couple seconds.
“What, have you never gone stargazing before?” 
Superboy doesn’t say anything for a minute, and Danny glances over. The false confidence has completely evaporated from the other boy’s expression, and instead he just looks unsure.
“I’ve never really had the opportunity before.” Superboy finally murmurs, quieter than any of their conversation so far.
“Well, I guess you’re in luck!” Danny says, offering his new companion a smile. “Because I’m something of an expert in it!” And Danny begins to point to the different constellations, and tell Superboy as much as he can about all the stars and planets above them.
“You really are an expert, huh?” Superboy eventually says, in the middle of Danny’s tangent about why Pluto isn’t considered a planet anymore. That had been one of his most interesting discoveries in his Wikipedia explorations. He’d been kind of surprised at first when it hadn’t shown up on the list of planets, but he’d specifically searched for it, he’d learned about it’s reclassification, along with all the reasoning behind it. He’d been a little sad at first, but the realization that it came alongside the implication about a whole number of other bodies orbiting their sun had been exciting in it’s own way.
“Yeah,” Danny responds with a laugh. “I, uh, really like space. I actually wanted to be an astronaut as a kid.”
“But you don’t want to be one now?”
“I mean,” Danny hums. “It’d be nice, but I don’t think it’s really a plausible goal anymore. It- the way I got my powers came with some... complications. And anyway I kind of don’t legally exist anymore, so it’s. I can’t even go to space camp, let alone go to actual space.”
“Is that, uh, why you don’t have a normal heart beat? I didn’t wanna ask and be rude, but like, you sound kinda like a really large bee.”
“Yeah, that’s, um. I mean I’ve never been called a bee before, but yeah.”
“Wild. But like, if it’s meta stuff, then aren’t they legally not allowed to discriminate against you for it? They’re not just gonna be like ‘oh you don’t have a heartbeat guess you can’t go to space.’”
“I mean, there was, like, a meta scholarship on the website, but...”
“You’re worried about revealing your identity.”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Well, that’s fixable. I mean, I didn’t have an identity to even reveal until this year, so the Justice League can definitely-”
“I don’t want them to know about me,” Danny interrupts.
“Oh.” Superboy says. “Well, what about just, like one person? Because Robin could definitely make you a whole new identity all by himself, and I know he has no qualms about keeping shit secret from everyone else.”
“Robin.” Danny thinks he remembers that name being referenced in relation to Batman. Something about a boy wonder. “Is he our age?”
“Yeah.” Superboy looks excited. “I could introduce you sometime if you want?”
“I dunno.” Even one Justice League associate knowing about him is concerning, and if Superboy knows about the thing with the train, then probably the adult members do too.
“Well, you don’t have to decide now! I have super hearing so if you call my name I’m almost guaranteed to hear it!”
“You can just hear me anytime?” Danny asks.
“Oh, uh. I mean technically yes? But generally it’s like effort to just tune into one person from a distance. But I listen for anybody calling for me, in case they need help or whatever, so I’m always kind of listening for that.”
“I’’ll keep that in mind, I guess.”
“Right. Uh, do you wanna tell me more about the planets?”
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diagonal-queen · 9 months ago
Note
HELLO!! i keep requesting them sotty im obsessed but what about hunting dogs with a s/o who has a child😅😅i got silly again
Hunting Dogs with your child
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♡ pairing: Fukuchi Ouchi, Jouno Saigiku, Tecchou Suehiro, Teruko Okura (platonic), Tachihara Michizou x gn!Reader
♡ synopsis: How do these goofballs fare as stepdads? (or, in Teruko's case, fun auntie?)
♡ cw: Swearing, unofficial stepfathering, unrealistically good stepfathering, reader's ex situation is not established but it's assumed that their baby momma/daddy is not in the picture (Tachihara), mentions of violence
note: I just haven't written anything in ages, and for that I apologise. Wow, being in university is time consuming! I've had block for months and it's been an absolute pain in the arse but I'm back babey! Keep your requests coming anon- I am the Hunting Dogs whisperer and I will write them till I die. Apologies for errors and I hope you enjoy x
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Fukuchi:
My dude is so so so enthusiastic. You mean to tell him that he gets a beautiful loving partner AND a new little guy to hang out with?? Sign him tf up
This man buys your kid so many presents it's genuinely concerning. Your child is spoilt to hell and back by Fukuchi. You need to discourage him from this behaviour STAT
He constantly uses dad words like 'buddy' and 'pal' and 'kiddo' to refer to your kid and they eventually start responding to these nicknames lol
He would totally also do dad stances and just embrace the fatherly aura that is slowly overtaking him day by day (bro starts falling asleep on the couch while the game's on at 9pm)
He's actually surprisingly gentle with your child. If they cry he'll pick them up and comfort them very well. He's like a whole different person when your kid is scared or sad- it's the cutest thing ever
If your child ever gets him a Fathers' Day present he'll probably cry like old man tears of joy. In fact if your child ever does anything nice for him he'll be incredibly touched. Kinda reminds him what he's doing his job for :')
Tells your child great exaggerated (CHILD FRIENDLY) stories about his heroic achievements as a soldier before bed. It's genuinely super cute you guys
If the kid ever runs up to him in excitement when he arrives home in the evening he returns the energy and is like 'omg there they are! that's my kiddo! how have you been??' and picks them up and AUGH they're so cute
Just....🥺🥺
Jouno:
Your child is probably scared of him at first. Within their first meeting he probably makes them cry.
Sorry y'all 😭 but he doesn't exactly come off as much of a teddy bear...and nor does he really act like one with anyone else other than you in private
Jouno just isn't good with kids. Not in the sense that he's scared of them but that he doesn't really know how to interact with them without being intimidating or otherwise just detached
But he really loves you, and he wants to be a good parental figure to your kid, so he tries to warm them up to him by getting them a gift. That probably helps- he might not know much about kids but he's right to assume that they fucking love receiving gifts
Whatever your child's hobbies/interests are, Jouno genuinely does try to connect with them over it, and after a while it does work.
Soon enough your child and Jouno are inseparable and your child is spewing sadistic military rhetoric and oh dear god you've made a terrible mistake introducing the two of them
Yeah, Jouno probably teaches your kid all KINDS of horrible things. He will tell your child stories about times he's tortured suspects, or slaughtered gangs, and just stuff that is not family friendly. You have to nip that behaviour in the bud or else...
He's generally pretty good at taking care of your child, but like, if your kid cried because they were scared there was a monster under the bed, Jouno would probably be like "Yeah. There is. Good luck." and then turn off the lights and leave 💀
Just give him time. He'll learn how to be an emotionally available parent at SOME point
Tecchou:
He's not the step dad. He's the dad that stepped up
Tecchou is definitely very aloof and awkward around your child- like, he knows how to interact with you, but children are different. Children are frightening. And they are his biggest fear maybe
In spite of this, he is fiercely protective of your kid. He will make sure that child is as safe and calm as possible at all times, and he certainly prefers to show that he cares through actions rather than words.
He usually wouldn't initiate physical contact with your child but if they hugged him he would hug back, if they gave him a hi-five he would do it back, etc etc. he will never let your kid down
If your child likes make belief, you can bet you'd walk into a room and find your kid all dressed up, off their rocker in full theatre mode, while Tecchou is sitting on the floor, also dressed up, but looking more depressed than ever before
Save him from your baby. They are taking YEARS off his life
He probably accidentally sends your kid to hospital at some point because he cooked for them. Damnit Tecchou, how don't you realise that a child's stomach wouldn't be able to handle a combination of chocolate and beef
It's okay though, he does learn from this. Plus, he takes care of your child and buys them presents and hangs out with them until they're better <3
He might not join your child in the ball pit, but he would watch them swim around in there with the softest, faintest, most affectionate smile on his face. And that is all that matters folks
Teruko (platonic):
The funnest, meanest, coolest auntie ever
Teruko will lead your child down a dreadful path. Limit their visits to holidays and birthdays for your own sake and the sake of your young one
She's really more than happy to negatively influence look after your child if you need her to though, and they love her because she's super chill and lets them get away with all kinds of things (that aren't violent crimes against humanity)
Your parent says one cookie after dinner? Screw it, have six. I won't tell if you won't. - Teruko, probably
She uses her ability to entertain your kid sometimes- usually she'll decrease her age so she can join them in things like building pillow forts and playing on jungle gyms
I'm just picturing them playing at the park and some concerned parent coming up to them asking where their guardian is and Teruko just fucking transforms into a grown woman on the spot and goes 'WHO'S ASKING' 😭
Teruko is a super cool fun aunt. But she is very wise, and she really will give your kid good life advice on occasion.
She'll also cheer them up when they're feeling down, and if they're feeling scared she helps them step out of their comfort zones and confront their fears (in a safe way!!)
If your kid is like, getting picked on at school or something, Teruko will nag you to phone their school about it. If you don't, she does. If they don't do anything about it, she does. Bottom line is NOBODY fucks with your kid when Teruko is around
I guess technically she really is scary dog privilege lmao
Tachihara:
Help he's so nervous at first? Tachihara this is a child, not a wise sage- you can be normal around them
He just wants to make a good impression on the child okay he's doing his best
But (obviously) your kid immediately loves him, and thinks he's the coolest guy ever, and wants to hang out with him all the time
Tachihara has a bit of a concern that the kid will think that he's trying to replace their other parent, which is fair, but it's unfounded because your child absolutely adores him and does not care about that at all
If your child ever calls him 'Dad' watch his soul fucking transcend to a new plane, he's so surprised and honoured that this beautiful person's child would consider him their parent
Your kid has Tachihara wrapped around their tiny finger. He will oblige them with anything- if you've got a toddler who likes uppies and piggybacks, say your prayers for Tachihara's upper arm and back muscles because he will carry them for hours
You really need him to stop leaving weaponry around the house, though- the absolute HEART ATTACK you had when you saw your precious baby carrying around an unloaded pistol
Also, Tachihara, babe, STOP SWEARING SO MUCH AROUND THE BABY. I CAN'T HAVE MY KID SAYING 'FUCK' TO STRANGERS - you, probably
Doesn't really ever talk about his job(s) with your kid, all they know is that he 'kills bad guys', and they think that's cool as fuck
He's not perfect, sure. But he is trying so hard to be The Perfect Parent™ and, more importantly, he loves your child to bits
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taglist~ ♡ @gettinshiggywithit, @fyodorhatr, @flower-of-darkness, @bejeweledgirl, @kokoenjiandco, @pinkiipeachiikeen
of course, thank you to anon for this req!
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natswife-marvelicious · 3 months ago
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Medbay Confessions
Plot: You and Natasha start off disliking each other, but over time the tension turns into unspoken feelings. During a mission where you're seriously injured, Natasha confesses her love fearing she might lose you... maybe more than once.
Warnings: blood, injury, mentions of death, sacrifice, kinda hatred towards each other
Word count: 3,1k
Masterlist
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The Avengers tower buzzed with the usual chaos of superhero life, filled with the sounds of training, strategizing, and the occasional playful bickering that came with living in close quarters. You had joined the Avengers a few months ago, excited yet apprehensive about proving yourself to a team renowned for their heroic deeds and remarkable skills. However, your excitement was frequently overshadowed by one particular member of the team, Natasha Romanoff.
From the moment you stepped foot in the tower, Natasha had treated you with a cool, disdainful demeanor. It was as if she had an invisible barrier around her, one that you could never quite penetrate. You felt like an intruder, constantly under her watchful eye as if she were waiting for you to mess up. And mess up, you did.
During your very first training session, you could sense Natasha’s scrutinizing gaze. While most of the Avengers were supportive, offering tips and encouragement, Natasha seemed hell-bent on pointing out every flaw.
“Is that really your best?” she quipped, arms crossed, her voice dripping with sarcasm as you stumbled during a complex maneuver.
“Why are you here?” you shot back, frustration bubbling to the surface. “Shouldn’t you be off saving the world or something?”
“Funny,” she replied, her expression deadpan. “If I don’t show up for training, then how will I know you’re not just a liability?”
You clenched your fists, anger bubbling inside you. “I can handle myself just fine, thank you very much. Maybe if you spent less time being condescending and more time helping, I wouldn’t have to prove anything to you.”
“Maybe if you were actually competent, I wouldn’t have to critique you,” she shot back, a smirk teasing the corners of her mouth.
Her words stung, and you could feel the heat rise in your cheeks. You turned away, trying to shake off the embarrassment that flooded your system. Over the following weeks, the animosity only intensified. It was a game of one-upmanship, Natasha’s biting remarks seemed to find their way into every interaction.
During one particularly grueling day, you found yourself in the training room again. Natasha stood across from you, her stance poised, ready to engage. As the two of you sparred, her movements were fluid and precise, a testament to her years of training.
“Are you even trying?” she taunted, dodging your punch effortlessly and countering with a swift kick that sent you stumbling back. “Because it doesn’t look like it.”
You gritted your teeth, your competitive spirit flaring. “Maybe if you stopped being such a show-off, I could actually get some training done.”
Natasha’s laughter echoed in the empty room. “Show-off? This is just me doing my job. You should try it sometime.”
With each scathing remark, you felt your frustration reach new heights. It was like she was on a mission to tear you down, and you couldn’t understand why. What had you done to earn her ire? You were on the same team after all, fighting for the same cause.
As time went on, you found yourself increasingly aware of her presence, even when you tried not to be. There was something magnetic about Natasha her confidence, her strength, but it only fueled your irritation. Every time she flashed that smug smile after getting a jab in, you felt your resolve waver. You couldn’t let her get to you, but the challenge was becoming harder to ignore.
It wasn’t just the training sessions that became a battleground, even during missions, the tension between you simmered. Natasha often took the lead, her strategic mind making her the perfect field commander. But whenever you tried to offer your insights, she brushed you off with a wave of her hand, as if your ideas were irrelevant.
“You’re new, so maybe just stick to following orders for now,” she would say dismissively, leaving you feeling small and overlooked.
“Maybe if you actually listened to the rest of us, you’d see that I have good ideas too,” you snapped one day during a mission briefing. The rest of the team looked at you in surprise, but Natasha merely rolled her eyes.
“Good ideas don’t mean anything if you can’t execute them,” she retorted, her tone laced with condescension.
With every interaction, you felt like you were in a perpetual state of conflict, and it was exhausting. You hated the way she seemed to effortlessly undermine your confidence, yet you couldn’t deny the flicker of something else that grew each time you met her gaze. It was infuriating and confusing all at once.
Then came the day of the mission, a crucial infiltration of a high-security facility suspected of harboring a rogue organization that had been causing havoc worldwide. The team had split into pairs, and when you heard Natasha call your name, a wave of dread washed over you.
“Looks like we’re stuck together,” she said, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.
“Lucky me,” you replied sarcastically, trying to hide your apprehension.
As you made your way to the facility, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this mission would be the tipping point for both of you. The tension was palpable, and as you moved through the shadows, you found yourself in close proximity to Natasha more often than not. Every time your shoulders brushed against each other, you felt a jolt of something electric, but you quickly shoved it down.
Inside the facility, chaos erupted. Alarms blared, lights flickered, and the air became charged with adrenaline. You both moved as one unit, relying on each other’s strengths as you navigated the maze of hallways.
“Cover me!” Natasha yelled, diving behind a column as gunfire erupted from the guards ahead. Without thinking you followed her lead, taking cover beside her. You could feel the heat radiating from her body, the intensity of the moment charging the air between you.
“Keep an eye on the left flank,” she instructed, her voice steady and authoritative. “I’ll take the right.”
“Right, got it,” you replied, your heart racing as you nodded.
As you fought side by side, the lines between rivalry and respect began to blur. You admired her combat skills, the way she moved with confidence and grace, and for the first time, you realized that her sharp tongue might be masking a deeper vulnerability.
Just as you thought you had the upper hand, you heard the distinct sound of footsteps approaching from behind. Without thinking, you turned to warn Natasha, but it was too late. A guard appeared, aiming his weapon directly at her.
“Natasha!” you screamed, throwing yourself in front of her just as the gun fired.
You felt the searing pain shoot through your side, and you stumbled back, the world spinning around you. You collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath as the adrenaline faded and the pain set in.
“NO!” Natasha yelled, her voice breaking as she rushed to your side. “Stay with me! I need you to stay awake!”
You struggled to focus on her face, the worry etched in her features piercing through the fog of pain. “I… I’m okay,” you whispered, but even you didn’t believe it.
“You’re not okay!” she cried, pressing her hands against your wound, her expression fierce and determined. “You’re going to be fine. We’re going to get you out of here.”
You could feel the warmth of her blood on your hands as she tried to stop the bleeding, and as your vision started to blur, you felt a strange calm wash over you. “Natasha… I—”
“Don’t you dare say it,” she warned, her eyes fierce. “You’re going to get through this. I won’t let you go.”
But the darkness was creeping in, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. “You need to know… I care about you. I always have. I just didn’t know how to say it.”
Tears filled her eyes, and she shook her head. “You’re going to be fine. You hear me? We’re going to have our chance. You’re not going anywhere!”
As the world faded away, you heard her voice calling your name, the panic evident as you slipped into unconsciousness.
_____________________________________
When you woke up, the familiar scent of antiseptic filled your nostrils. Blinking against the bright lights, you found yourself in the medbay, a wave of confusion washing over you. You tried to move, but pain shot through your side, reminding you of what had happened.
“Hey, easy there,” a gentle voice said and you turned to see Natasha sitting beside you, her expression a mixture of relief and worry.
“Natasha?” you croaked, your throat dry. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she replied, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re the one I was worried about. You scared the hell out of me.”
You managed a weak smile, feeling a warmth in your chest at the sight of her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you through that.”
“You didn’t put me through anything,” she said, her voice firm yet soft. “I’m just glad you’re alive. You took a bullet for me, and… I didn’t know how much you meant to me until I almost lost you.”
“What do you mean?” you asked, your heart racing.
“I'm in love with you,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t realize it until that moment. I thought I was going to lose you, and it terrified me.”
Tears welled in your eyes as her words sank in. “You love me?”
“Yes,” she affirmed, her voice steady but filled with emotion. “I’ve been so guarded, so terrified of losing anyone again that I pushed you away. But when I saw you take that bullet for me, it made me realize just how deeply I care for you.”
You felt a rush of warmth spreading through you, mingling with the pain that still throbbed in your side. “I’ve felt the same way,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I thought you hated me. I thought I could never measure up to your expectations.”
Natasha shook her head, her eyes intense and sincere. “I never hated you. I was frustrated because I could see your potential, but I didn’t know how to express it. I was scared to let anyone in, to care again. But you broke through all of my defenses.”
A soft silence settled between you as you absorbed her confession, the weight of unspoken feelings lifted at last. “You’ve always been so strong,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “I admired you from the moment I joined the team. But I couldn’t stand the way you pushed me away. I didn’t know how to reach you.”
Natasha reached for your hand, her touch gentle and reassuring. “I’m sorry for being such a jerk. I let my past dictate my actions, but you showed me that I could let my guard down. I’ve been so lost for so long, but with you… it feels different.”
“Different how?” you asked, curious yet hopeful.
“Better,” she replied simply, squeezing your hand. “You make me feel alive. You make me want to be a better person, and I want you in my life, not just as a teammate, but as something more.”
Your heart raced at her admission. The vulnerability in her voice resonated deep within you. “I want that too,” you said softly. “I want to be there for you, to support you, to love you.”
Her smile was radiant, and you could see the relief washing over her features. “Then let’s make it happen. Let’s take our time and figure this out together, okay?”
You nodded, feeling tears of happiness slip down your cheeks. “Together.”
The following days passed in a haze of healing and warmth. Natasha was by your side every step of the way, her presence a constant source of comfort. She helped you with physical therapy, always encouraging you to push yourself while reminding you to take it slow. The camaraderie that had once been strained was now blossoming into a deep friendship, one that felt like the beginning of something beautiful.
As you regained your strength, you and Natasha began to explore the depths of your relationship. Each shared glance lingered a little longer, every accidental brush of hands sent sparks racing up your arms. The tension that had once filled the air was now charged with an unspoken promise, and you both felt it.
One evening, as you sat on the rooftop of the Avengers Tower, the stars twinkling overhead, you found yourself wrapped in a blanket beside Natasha. The view of the city stretched out before you, a sea of lights dancing in the darkness.
“Can you believe it?” you asked, gazing at the skyline. “A few weeks ago, we could barely stand each other.”
Natasha chuckled softly, her shoulder brushing against yours. “I can believe it. I was a complete idiot.”
“Yeah, but you’re my idiot now,” you teased, nudging her playfully.
She turned to you, her expression suddenly serious. “I’m really glad you’re okay. I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost you.”
“I’m here now,” you said, looking into her eyes, the depth of emotion reflected back at you. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
Natasha’s gaze softened, and she leaned in closer. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“What are we doing? I mean, where do we go from here?”
You took a deep breath, the weight of her question settling in your chest. “I think we take it one day at a time. I want to explore this, to see where it leads us. I don’t want to rush anything.”
Her lips curled into a warm smile, and she nodded. “That sounds perfect to me.”
The moment felt electric, and as the city buzzed around you, you felt a sense of peace envelop you. The road ahead would undoubtedly be filled with challenges, but for the first time, you felt ready to face them, hand in hand with Natasha.
Days turned into weeks, and your relationship deepened further. You became inseparable, your bond growing stronger with each passing moment. The other Avengers noticed the change and you could sense their supportive glances and knowing smiles. Even Tony, usually too busy with his antics, offered an unexpected thumbs-up one evening, raising a playful eyebrow as you and Natasha shared a lingering kiss.
“Hey, you two lovebirds! Save some for the rest of us!” he called out, a teasing grin plastered on his face.
You and Natasha broke apart, laughter spilling from your lips. “You’re the worst!” you yelled back playfully, but your heart swelled with happiness.
As time went on, you both faced missions that tested your skills and courage. Each battle fought together brought you closer, solidifying your teamwork in ways you never thought possible. You learned to trust each other implicitly, a silent understanding passing between you as you navigated danger side by side.
Then came another high-stakes mission, this time targeting a global arms dealer who was threatening the world’s security. The team gathered in the war room, strategizing and preparing for the dangerous infiltration.
“You ready?” Natasha asked, her voice low, filled with determination.
“Always,” you replied, matching her intensity.
As you geared up, you could feel the familiar thrill of adrenaline coursing through your veins. But this time, it was different. You were no longer just trying to prove yourself, you were fighting alongside someone you loved, someone who had your back.
The mission unfolded smoothly at first. You and Natasha moved with precision, taking down guards and making your way through the facility with ease. But as you reached the heart of the operation, everything fell apart in an instant.
A trap was sprung, and chaos erupted. Guards flooded the area, guns blazing. You fought valiantly, but in the whirlwind of gunfire, you felt the sharp sting of pain in your leg as a bullet grazed you.
“Get down!” Natasha shouted, shoving you behind cover, but it was too late. You could feel the adrenaline fading, replaced by a sense of dread as you realized you were injured.
“Natasha, I-” you started, but she cut you off.
“Stay with me! We have to get out of here!”
You tried to push through the pain, focusing on the mission and the love you felt for her. “I can’t leave you,” you replied, gasping for breath. “You have to go!”
“No!” she insisted, her eyes fierce. “I’m not leaving you behind!”
As the chaos raged around you, you felt your strength waning. “I love you, Natasha,” you managed to say, the words spilling from your lips before you could stop them. “No matter what happens… just know that.”
Her expression softened, and you could see the fear and determination in her eyes. “You’re going to be fine. We’re getting out of this together!"
But as the battle intensified, you could feel the darkness creeping in again, threatening to consume you. “I… I can’t…” you whispered, your vision blurring.
“Stay with me!” Natasha shouted, her voice breaking. “Please!”
With everything you had left, you forced yourself to focus on her. “I’m here,” you said, but the world around you was fading. “Just… stay close.”
The last thing you remembered was her voice, fierce and determined, echoing in your mind. “I love you! You’re going to be okay! Just hold on!”
_______________________________________
When you woke up in the medbay, the faint sound of beeping machines surrounded you. Panic shot through your veins as you tried to sit up, only to be met with a sharp pain that radiated through your leg.
“Easy there,” a gentle voice said, and you turned your head to see Natasha sitting beside you, her expression a mixture of relief and concern.
“Natasha?” you croaked, your throat dry. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she replied, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You scared me half to death, you know that?”
“I thought I lost you,” you admitted, your heart racing. “I didn’t want to die without telling you how I felt.”
She leaned in closer, her voice soft yet fierce. “You’re not going anywhere. I’m not letting you out of my sight again. I love you, and you’re going to be okay.”
Relief washed over you as her words sank in. “You really mean it?”
“Absolutely,” she said, her expression serious. “I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life. You’re my partner, and I want to fight for you every day.”
Tears filled your eyes as you reached for her hand, intertwining your fingers. “I love you too, Natasha. You’ve become my everything."
She smiled, a genuine warmth spreading across her face. “Then let’s take this one day at a time. Together.”
As you sat there, hand in hand, you realized that the battle you had fought was just the beginning of a new journey.
What can I say, I love the angsty stuff way too much :)
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thus-spoke-lo · 1 year ago
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Birthday Gift // Trafalgar Law x afab!reader // NSFW/18+ Kink: Cosplay/roleplay
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A/N: It's Law's birthday--what better day to show him some love? Thank you to @thenotsofantasticlifestory for the concept! CW: afab!reader [no pronouns used]; reader wears a skirt; choking; vaginal fingering; unprotected vaginal intercourse; creampie WC: 2.7k // Fictober Masterlist
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“What’s taking you so long in there?”
Law’s voice is muffled by the bathroom door, but you can still detect a hint of irritation threaded through it nonetheless.
“Don’t worry about it!” you shout back, carefully pulling fishnet thigh-highs up your legs, sweat beading at your temples as you concentrate on trying not to rip the delicate honeycombs upon first wear—that would be something you would leave to Law. “Just another minute!”
Law was typically a patient man, especially where you were concerned, but tonight he was slowly becoming unraveled. It was your doing, of course—once you had told him you had a surprise for him, standing on tiptoes before you left your shared quarters to whisper it in his ear as you pressed yourself against his back, hooking your fingers in his belt loops to pull him close, his steely resolve slowly began to melt. He had tried to mask his excitement as they day waned, now keeping his gaze fixed on the coins he was sorting into thick books, but you still caught the hint of a smile quirking up the corners of his mouth, spotted the slight crinkling around his eyes that gave away his barely-suppressed interest. He would deny it if asked, but the accumulation of tells was giving him away—he was eager to learn just what it was you had in store for him.
The swishy skirt that sits on your hips sways as the submarine shudders, and you adjust the pleats, hiking it up just a little higher, exposing the exact right amount of thigh that you intend. With a slow exhale, you add your final touch—a lightweight helmet that you carefully lower down onto your head before studying yourself in the mirror, frowning and pouting, trying to perfect the most stoic and brave look possible. You stifle a laugh at delightfully ridiculous you look, like a comic-book character come to life—precisely as you intended.
“Happy birthday, my love,” you announce as you open the bathroom door, placing your gloved hands on your hips and standing with your legs apart, looking off into corner of his room as though you were gazing into the misty horizon; all that’s missing is a strong breeze to rustle your flowing blue cape and swish the hem of your ridiculously short skirt.
“Oh thanks b—” Law’s jaw hangs open as he turns in his chair to address you, and the coins he holds in his hand drop and scatter on the floor. “You—you’re—”
“Sora, Warrior of the Sea,” you say proudly, puffing out your chest and adjusting your stance, beaming wildly at his reaction. “From the infamous issue where Sora is hit with a gender-swap ray.”
Law clucks his tongue. “Well, I mean technically it was more than one issue for it to be resolved, you know.”
“Law…”
“What?”
You huff a sigh and smile as you cross the room to him, his gaze never leaving you, eyes flitting over every heroically-decorated inch of you. Law stands and lets out a shivering exhale as he approaches you cautiously, almost reverently, long fingers reaching out and running over the smoothness of your helmet, tracing every curve and sharp angle. He delicately fondles the shimmering fabric of your cape, taking handfuls of it and rubbing it between his fingers, touching it to his face to feel the softness of the material, humming at the sensation. It was rare to see this particular look of awe on Law’s face, to see him wrapped up in something this intensely, his eyes taking in every single inch of your carefully crafted costume. His pupils dilate as his palms trail down the stiff material of your sleeves, until his hands reach yours and he grips them tightly, and even through your thick leather gloves you feel how he trembles just slightly, seeming to vibrate with excitement.
“You look—I mean, all of it—i-it’s perfect. And it’s…oh, fuck, you look so sexy.” His eyes glimmer in that way you love, when something catches his interest and holds it tightly and won’t let him go. “It’s exactly like the comic. Every detail.”
You swallow hard, biting your lip. “You really like it?”
“I love it.” He leans down and presses his lips to yours with an impulsive urgency, almost seeming as though he’s restraining himself from something more. “And I love you.”
“I love you too. And I’m glad you like it, it took me forever to make it.”
“Wait…you made this?” A soft dusting of blush begins to cover his cheeks. “You must really love me if you sewed something this complicated.”
“Well, I had a little help,” you demur, hoping the money you slipped to Penguin and Shachi would be enough to keep them quiet about your bespoke birthday gift, at least for a while.
“You didn’t have to do this, you know,” Law murmurs as he carefully removes your helmet and sets it on his desk, his hands returning to your face to cup your heated cheeks. “I didn’t expect anything.”
“I know.” You turn your head and kiss his palm, placing your gloved hands on top of his. “And that’s why I wanted to do it.”
“You’re too good to me.” He kisses you again, softly sighing against your lips, his thumbs stroking the apples of your cheeks.
“Don’t say that just yet,” you chuckle as he breaks your kiss, “I’m not done.”
You bend over—slowly, deliberately, making sure the hem of your skirt lifts perfectly to expose the underside of your ass cheeks, until you hear Law hiss through his teeth at the sight—and grab a box from under the bed.
“Here.” Your drag your teeth along your lower lip as you watch him tear into the wrapping paper, fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “I didn’t have time to make more pieces but it’s—”
“A Stealth Black cape.” His look of shock turns to one of something close to delight as the box falls to the floor and he holds up the long, flowing cloak, his eyes fixed on it almost worshipfully. “Shit, this is so cool.”
“Well, put it on,” you finally blurt excitedly. “I have a criminal to capture.”
“Oh, you think you’ll capture me, do you?” he purrs, smooth and low, quickly adapting to his role as he dons his getup. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Then try I shall!” You grin and press your hand to his chest, the feeling of his racing heart under your palm catching you off guard. “S-stop, vile villain!”
“Honey.” A look of utter seriousness washes over his face. “He wouldn’t say that.”
“Law…” You flatten your lips and press them together, blinking at him questioningly.
“What?”
“Nevermind,” you shrug with a grin—this was his birthday after all, a little more accuracy to the source material won’t kill you. “What would he say then?”
“You know what?” he says after a beat, his tone softening for a moment. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Then prepare to be brought to justice!”
“You’re no match for the might of Germa 66, Sora—you will never be able to outwit our scientific might!”
You throw a soft punch at Law’s midsection, then a lazy kick at his thigh as he pretends to double-over in agony and stumble backwards towards his desk. But before you can land another hit, he lunges forward and wraps a strong hand around your wrist, twisting you around as he pulls your arm behind your back and yanks you against him. He wraps his other arm around your waist as you feign a struggle, throwing your head back onto his chest as you grunt and grumble.
“I have you now, Sora,” he growls, his tongue running along the shell of your ear. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“You’ll never be able to hold me, Stealth Black,” you mutter as you softly kick at his shins, your boots barely making contact with his body as you find yourself enjoying the fabricated scuffle more than you expected. A familiar heat begins to spread throughout your partially-restrained body, an ache beginning to build between your thighs as Law groans softly every time you writhe in his grasp. “No one can escape my justice, not even you.”
“Oh, is that so?” He tightens his grip on your waist for a moment, pulling you closer until your ass is flush with his groin; the swell of his arousal presses against you, and a moan creeps up your throat unexpectedly. “We’ll see about that.”
Law’s free hand runs up the front of your body, his pace achingly slow and deliberate, his fingers dancing over the smooth fabric of your costume, lingering on your breasts, circling over your clothed nipples until you squirm. His palm comes to rest on your neck and he keeps it there, stroking your jaw with his thumb as he groans low in your ear. Long, slender fingers wrap around your throat, and he begins to squeeze, applying a gentle, persistent pressure to the sides of your delicate neck, just below your jaw.
“Give in yet, Sora?” he asks as he releases his grip, a shivering breath leaving his lungs at the way you gasp for air, the way you quake so perfectly in his grasp.
“N-never,” you stammer—at least, not as long as it means he’ll be forced to keep tormenting you in the way you love.
He lets out a low chuckle and squeezes tighter this time, pressing at the sides of your neck, keeping his hand positioned just-so to force your head straight. Your free hand grasps at his forearm, digging your fingers into his tattooed flesh as your pulse starts to grow louder in your ears, darkness starting to form at the edges of your vision. But Law knows precisely where the edge is and how far he can let you peer over it before he needs to pull you back, and with a gasp of his own, he releases his hold on you, quickly moving his arm to wrap around your chest and keep you aloft.
“Hmm, you are a tough one, Sora,” he murmurs against your cheek, warm breath spreading across your skin as you pull in lungfuls of air. “I guess I’ll have to use stronger measures.”
With a few quick movements, Law maneuvers you onto the bed, your body landing with a soft thump; he nudges your legs apart and kneels between them, looking you over with a hunger in his eyes that makes your pulse race and your body flood with a needy heat. He trails his hands up the soft leather of your boots, up the plushness of your thighs, fingertips poking and prodding at the holes in your fishnets, snapping the elastic band at the top against your skin until you yelp from the sharp stings.
“You want something from me, don’t you?” he purrs as he undoes the fastens of his cape and lets it fall to the floor. You aren’t sure if he’s asking as the villain or as himself—and the growing need between your thighs doesn’t particularly care which. You chew your lower lip and watch as his tattooed hands push your skirt up over your thighs, up further and further until his lips part and his tongue pokes at the corner of his mouth. “My, my—no panties? You really did come looking for trouble.”
“I suppose I did,” you tease, parting your legs a little more, allowing him to take in the full extent of your arousal. “I really can’t help but be attracted to the bad guy.”
“The bad guy, huh?” Law groans softly under his breath at your glistening wetness and trails his fingers down the downy softness of your mound, down to the apex of your slit, pressing on your tender bundle of nerves, making subtle circles over it until your back arches and you whine with need. “Would the bad guy do this?”
“I-I guess not,” you stammer as he toys with your aching clit, moving his thumb over it with a fierce insistence. He deftly slides his middle and ring fingers into your dripping cunt, driving them into you again and again as you buck your hips against him, fucking yourself on his hand.
Tension coils inside you with every pump of his long fingers, every bit of pressure he applies to your clit, and you writhe with every burning caress. Law grins lasciviously and crooks his fingers upwards to massage that most sensitive spot inside you, forcing the breath from your lungs with every stroke of your walls. Your shaking hands grip the sheets, and that tautness in your core finally snaps; you convulse into a chain of spasms, your breath coming in short, harsh gasps with every throb and every pulse.
“What do you say now, Sora—do you surrender yet?” Law asks as he slows his movements, still relishing the way you flutter and clench around his fingers as your orgasm subsides.
“I-I surrender, Stealth Black,” you manage to utter between harsh, choppy breaths.
“Good.” Law stares down at you for a moment, head cocked, his pupils blown with lust, taking in the sight of your shivering body in the costume you made just for him. “It’s a lot more fun that way.”
He’s insatiable, his actions frantic and almost wild as he strips his shirt off and hastily unzips his jeans, pulling them just far enough down his hips to pull out his pulsing cock, the reddened head already shining and smeared with precum. He guides himself to your cunt, running the tip through your slick folds, before easing himself into you, inch by inch, until you groan at the feeling of fullness when his hips finally meet yours. His thrusts are frenzied, voracious, his every movement filled with pulsing, vibrating need—you’ve awoken something deep within him, an aching need that he needs to fulfill.
“You look so perfect, honey,” he moans into your mouth as he captures your lips in a long, drugging kiss, his tongue making sweeping, swirling motions inside your mouth. “You’re so good to me.”
You wrap your arms around his muscled shoulders and arch into him, tipping your hips to meet each powerful thrust, as his lean hips snap against your body, pushing you against the mattress. His low groans reverberate in your chest, every thrust even more desperate and demanding than the last, chasing after his own release.
“Fuck, fuck you feel so good,” he says in a low whine, nipping at your neck as he rocks into you with a steady, urgent rhythm. “Gonna cum, sweetheart. Gonna cum so hard for you.”
Law’s thrusts become more and more erratic, his hips stilling for only the briefest moment before he groans and shudders, spilling himself into you as he mutters your name again and again in blissful gratitude. He rests on top of you for a moment, kissing down your neck, flicking his tongue over your jaw and nuzzling against your cheek, before he flops down beside you with a contented huff. He pulls you into him, tucking you under his arm and kissing your forehead softly, humming under his breath.
“That was so much fun,” Law manages to utter between sharp inhales.
“Yeah? You liked your birthday gift?”
“I loved it, couldn’t you tell?”
“Oh I could,” you smirk, feeling his cum leaking out of you, stickiness spreading between your thighs. “I still like to hear it, though. Hell, you made it feel like my birthday, too.”
His elongated fingers flit over your upper arm, drawing little patterns in the now-rumpled fabric of your shirt as you lay in satisfied silence, only the sounds of your slowing breaths and the occasional rustle of the tangled sheets mingling in the air.
“You know,” Law utters after a moment, “we are gonna have to work on your dialogue though—I have some back issues of Sora that would probably be the most helpful. We can read them together if you want.”
“Law…”
“What?”
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shinyspooks · 2 years ago
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DP x DC combined with the Balanced/Dual Obsessions AU where Danny frequently goes to the Watchtower to safely stargaze and fulfill his secondary space obsession while invisible, and he’s been doing this for months and has yet to be noticed (albeit there has been some moments where members of the Justice League have felt a little creeped out, and the Flash swears he saw a glowing kid when he ran past the main room earlier, but when he stopped running the kid was gone-).
He sometimes brings some homework or snacks and other such things up with him.
One day, he just,,, gets so entranced watching space that he just... forgets to be invisible, and scares the FUCK out of half the Justice League due to suddenly appearing.
One rushed explanation later, Danny manages to convince them that he’s just a harmless, powerless ghost, who just wants to stargaze. He stays semi-intangible, and flickers to invisibility a couple times to make it seem like he doesn’t have enough power to form a corporeal form. And you know, they believe him.
He doesn’t plan to keep that up for long, but you know how it is with Danny and lies.
Eventually, the Justice League needs help with a threat.
So of course, Danny shows up to help out.
But the thing is. The differences between how he looks when fulfilling his hero obsession (heroic/protective aura, more confident stance, etc) and his space obsession (looks more childish/his actual age, comforting/kind aura, star freckles), plus the way he made himself seem slightly less corporeal when in the Watchtower, lead the Justice League into believing that these are two different ghosts.
Especially since Danny never gave them his name when in the Watchtower, claiming he didn’t remember it. (He does tell them to call him Phantom when he helps them out though).
Danny finds out about this assumption and doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry over having to keep up ANOTHER secret identity. He refuses to go to the Watchtower despite being inducted into the Justice League because he knows the instant he steps in there his space obsession will take over and he’ll be outed.
....And then one night, while stargazing, he accidentally leaves behind the Crown of Fire. So, the next day, mid-afternoon, Phantom shows up, in hero obsession mode, desperately searching the Watchtower for his crown, pointedly Not Looking at the Windows.
A couple of people (namely Batman) figure out what’s going on/see him flicker to space mode while searching, but overall it’s still a surprise to the majority of them when Phantom breathes out a sigh of relief upon finding the crown... and adrenaline rush over, snaps immediately into space mode in front of them.
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txttletale · 4 months ago
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https://txttletale.tumblr.com/post/760752457583394816
I don't understand why every so often you reblog posts that are just plain and simply mean-spirited. There's criticism of copyright and people's delusions, and then there's outright nasty sneering "I hope your art gets stolen lol".
I don't know if you've ever had (say) a game you made just straight up reuploaded somewhere else without even your name on it but you don't have to be a "smol creator" with "petty bourgie dreams" to be upset by that or to want some recourse against that happening. I swear to god, this kind of petty cruelty will probably be the reason I unfollow you one day in spite of all your good analysis.
i mean i think it's fair to say that i am perhaps too jaded to Being Mean and taking hyperbolically confrontational or glib stances on the computer, i think that's something i could stand to work on generally because i, personally, think it does not contribute to nice times on the computer
but, like, i don't care what their motives are, people cheering on IP law and its expansion are enemies of art and culture itself. they hold a worldview that is corrosive to everything i value about art and i feel justified in being a little aggro about it sometimes. & i think you will notice that nowhere in the original post does it say "stolen", it says a bunch of things which i think are good to happen to art! the only one of these that is anywhere close to 'stealing' is 'reupoading', which is not 'stealing', and instead something which contextually ranges from 'heroic preservation of otherwise lost cultural works' to 'a dick move'
anyways i did not primarily reblog this post out of spite towards the small copyright jakeys, but because i think a world where the expectation is that the things you make will be remixed and interpolated and used and translated and scrapped for parts would be a better world for art and culture and the joy of creation
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ghostchems · 1 year ago
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bad idea right? - raphael x f!tav
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your companions have made their stance on making a deal with a devil clear but as the stakes of your quest grow you aren't so certain
a/n: i am shouting out @angellayercake for screaming about this with me and for also having to deal with this:
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this is my first raphael fic! i tried :) 2.1k words. smut! mdni! 18+ please. both tav and raphael make bad decisions! ao3 link.
Your muscles and bones ache as you toss and turn in bed, eyes squeezed shut while you try to force yourself to sleep but to no avail. The bed creaks as you shift, an exasperated sigh leaving your lips. Sleeping used to be easier before the tadpole, before your abduction and before you somehow became the hero of this story. Your eyes flicker across your companions, watching as they sleep, their chests rising and falling between soft breaths. You knew booking a room at Elfsong would be good for them, allowing them to sleep in actual beds for the first time during your adventure rather than bedrolls on the hard ground. You care for them, more than you’ve cared about anything before, putting their needs above yours. Perhaps that’s why you’ve taken on the role as the heroic leader.
But you don’t want to be. Not anymore. You’re exhausted from trying to go about this the right way when there is a slightly easier way to go about it.
The second those big, brown eyes fell upon you in the Devil’s Den he knew you were exhausted. You still went about the delicate dance of learning what he truly wanted from you and how you refuse to make a deal with a Devil. But deep down, you wanted to and he knew. The way his lips quirked into a slimy smirk as you left, your eyes met his and you gave him a knowing look. He would be expecting you to come back.
You just didn’t think you would be back so soon but you aren’t able to get your thoughts to quiet down. You need your plans in place to quiet your mind enough to rest. Gravel crunches beneath your boots as you make your way back to Sharess’ Caress, a cautious eye scanning the streets for anything out of the ordinary. You miss the days when you could walk these streets without worry, when signs of danger were few and far between. 
The hair on the back of your neck stands on end once you reach the door to Devil’s Den, a lump forming in your throat. Ever since Raphael showed his smarmy face and performed his rehearsed speech to your group, you couldn’t help but be curious about him. A devil, a cambion to be more specific, coming to you with a deal was never even a possibility that crossed your mind before, let alone having multiple run-ins with him since you escaped the wreckage. There is always something far too tempting about him and his schemes.
I’ve grown fond of you, in my own way. 
You think about the way those words rolled off of his tongue more than you would like to admit. An infernal creature fond of you. You can’t help but feel special. A quick thought blips to the front of your mind, a sudden worry that it’s too late at night for you to be disturbing him. You suck in a deep breath and shrug the thought away — you are his favorite client, after all. The door to his room clicks and you push open the door, revealing Raphael still perched at his desk almost as if he hasn’t moved since you left him earlier.
“Back so soon, mouse?” The devil tilts his head, an amused smile playing on his lips. “You put on quite the performance earlier, I figured you would take a few nights to stew over it before you came crawling back.” His voice drops deliciously low as he curls his fingers underneath his chin, his eyes scanning your body. You feel warmth start to blossom in the pit of your stomach but you choose to brush the feeling off. It’s just like him to continue this little game of his when he knows full well what you are here for. You decide to play along. 
“Where is the hammer, Raphael?” You ask, annoyance dripping from your town while you walk completely past him and into the bedroom. He trails after you curiously, watching as you start to go through the drawers of his bedside table. You know it’s not here but you must play along with him, wanting nothing more than to hold his attention. Raphael lingers behind you, peering over your shoulder with a bemused expression.
“It’s not here, my pet. You’ll receive it at the right time — if you accept my deal.” You feel his warm breath on the back of your neck and your cheeks flush, your grip on the drawer tightening.
“How do I know you won’t screw me over?” You don’t dare turn around, almost afraid how close he is to you. One of his hands grabs you by the waist and you can’t help but give a startled mewl. He snaps his fingers and a contract appears in front of you, the infernal script too complicated for you to understand, and a quill floats beside it.
“You wound me.” Raphael purrs into your ear, savoring the position he has you in. The chase, the seduction is always his favorite part. “My deal is fair. We get what we both want. I promise you, my dear, I would never lie to you. You are my favorite client, after all.” His lips touch your earlobe and he can practically taste your desperation. He sucks in a sharp breath to compose himself while his hand on your waist drifts lower. Raphael has you right where he wants to and he’s relishing in having the hero of the sword coast in his grasp. 
“Raphael—“ His name catches in your throat as his fingers slip inside your waistband. You shudder and your eyes flutter open and shut, your cheeks bright red as he continues lower. For Raphael, this is something that happens every so often with his business — having to sweeten the deal with a little bit of devilish delight, but this felt especially sweet. Raphael is corrupting you himself, in more ways than one. His fingers stroke along your opening, your folds already slick to his pleasant surprise.
“My, my.” He teases and you can feel him smile against your ear. “Seems that you are quite ready to accept my deal, little mouse. Take the quill.” His voice is a mere whisper now, his fingers teasing at your entrance. You hesitate for just a moment, putting on a small act of reluctance before following his command, the quill feeling impossibly light in your hand. Raphael hums his approval and presses one of his long fingers inside your dripping cunt. You dip your head back and lean into him, resting on his shoulder as your eyes close and lips part, an embarrassingly soft moan falling from them. 
A rush of desire courses through Raphael, so strong that it nearly distracts him from the task at hand, a blush rising to his cheeks that unfortunately you can’t see. He gives a low growl, his mouth finding your neck and sucking on the delicate flesh while he starts to curl his finger inside of you. You gasp and drop your hand to grab his forearm, fingers digging into his sleeve as he continues, your body writhing and your toes curling in your boots. Your body is impossibly hot, your mind thinking only about how sinfully good his finger feels, the dangers and worries of signing his contract far away now.
Raphael is lost in your taste. His tongue and lips drifting along your neck, planting wet kisses and sharp bites, his eyes closed and his breathing heavy. He slips another fingers inside, stretching you open with deft digits as he sinks them even deeper. You’re putty in his hands and you hate that it feels so right, that this is what you wanted, what you dreamt about after first laying eyes on him. Your knees start to buckle and the tension in your abdomen is almost at its breaking point, stuttering moans and huffs clawing their way from your throat. Raphael nearly forgets himself, so utterly wrapped up in your taste, your scent, but he’s able to catch himself before he takes it too far. He pulls his fingers from you and starts to stroke lightly at your fully drenched entrance.
“Sign the contract, my little mouse, and I’ll finish you off.” His voice is gravelly and you feel the words vibrate from his chest. You don’t hesitate this time, feverishly signing the contract as his fingers lazily circle your cunt. The second you’ve signed the contract ignites into flames and disappears, quill included. Raphael wastes no time, plunging his fingers back inside and thrusting them roughly. Your hips buck and your eyes squeeze shut, riding his fingers to the edge of the precipice. His teeth find your earlobe, grazing it before giving it a rough nibble that is enough to send you toppling over the edge. Your body trembles and convulses, breathing heavy as your vision blurs and it overtakes you.
Normally, Raphael would have slipped away from his mark, leaving them alone to bask in the delicious shame of making a deal with a devil. But he can’t leave you. His nose scrunches as his eyes meet your glassy ones, your cheeks an adorable shade of red and your lips shiny and pink. He shouldn’t be feeling this way, not for you, not for anyone, but he can’t help but want you. Raphael hasn’t felt this kind of want in ages. His heart pounds in his chest, his gaze drifting to your lips. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. But he can’t resist you.
Raphael’s lips crash against yours, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You groan at the taste of him, cherries and musk, and you melt into the kiss. It’s fierce and possessive, his strong hands grabbing you again by the waist and clumsily pressing you back into the nearest wall. It’s like he can’t control himself which is alarming given how carefully he has crafted his image for hundreds of years just for you to tear it all away in a moment of weakness. He can’t stop himself though. His hands are groping you all over, drifting from your ass to your breasts, with one firm hand settling on your throat.
You can’t breathe and you’re sure Raphael has forgotten that you need to breathe. You manage to tear yourself away from the breathless kiss, air filling your lungs as he bites at your jaw, those caramel eyes never leaving yours. He uses his free hand to tug at your pants, ripping them in the process but he doesn’t care. He needs you. He needs nothing but you in this moment. You’re not used to how quickly he moves, suddenly finding your legs wrapped around his waist while he holds you up against the wall with one hand, his hard cock already pressing against your slick entrance. 
You brace yourself against the wall as he slams into you, his sharp nails digging into your ass and a deep moan rumbling from his chest. A scream leaves your lips, your hands pawing at his chest before curling into his doublet to hold on. He keeps the pace desperate, the mere strength of his thighs pounding into your ass enough to leave bruises. You squeeze your legs tighter around his waist and he whines, a sound you want more than anything to hear again. He captures your lips in a kiss again, his burning tongue dominating the kiss as he fills you so deeply, deeper than anyone has before. Your hands drift up his shoulders to settle around his neck, fingertips brushing the soft curls at the nape of his neck and you swear you hear him purr.
Raphael’s teeth, somehow sharper than before, sink into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Your nails dig into the back of his neck as you give a sharp yelp, your body jerking as the pain sears through you. His breath catches in his throat before giving a deep, rumbling snarl against your lips. One last thrust and he’s spilling himself deep inside you, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. Your eyes are wide as you take in his face, his forehead glistening with sweat and a few loose strands of his usually perfect hair, his cheeks flushed red. His gaze meets yours, seeing your reaction and immediately disappearing, only to appear a second later in front of you and tidied up except for a hint of redness in his cheeks. 
Meanwhile your lips and teeth are stained with blood, your hair is a mess and your pants are still around your ankles with the devil’s cum dripping down the inside of your thighs.
“A pleasure doing business with you, mouse. We shall keep this a special secret between us.” Raphael sounds almost angry with you, nearly growling between gritted teeth but there is something else that catches you off guard. His face – his words sound threatening but his face looks unsure, perhaps even worried?
Raphael leaves in a flash of fire.
part two
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missrosiesworld · 5 months ago
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Starlight Flutters
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Here are some cute headcanons for Billy Kid when he has a crush:
Starlight Hero Persona: Billy adopts a more heroic persona around his crush, often quoting lines from "Starlight Knight" and trying to emulate the show's protagonists.
Billy: "In the name of justice, I vow to protect you! No harm shall come your way while I'm around!"
Crush: "Are you quoting Starlight Knights again?"
Billy: "Maybe, but I mean every word!"
Over-the-Top Gestures: He tends to make grand, dramatic gestures to show his affection, like showing up with a bouquet or performing a flashy stunt to grab their attention.
Billy, arrives with a dramatic flourish, bowing slightly: "For you, a token of my admiration!" hands over a bouquet of holographic flowers.
Crush, laughs, clearly amused and touched: "You didn't have to go all out, but thank you!"
Billy, his voice warm and sincere: "Anything for my favorite person."
Nervous Energy: Despite his confident exterior, Billy gets nervous around his crush. He fidgets with his hands and his voice may rise a notch higher when he's excited or flustered.
Billy, fidgeting with his hands: "So, um, do you... like movies? I mean, of course you do, who doesn't, right?"
Crush, smiling: "Yeah, I do. Got any recommendations?"
Billy: "Oh, totally! I've got a list! Uh, maybe we could watch one together sometime?"
Show-Off Moments: Billy loves to showcase his skills, especially with his custom-made revolvers, "the girls." He might challenge others to friendly duels or display impressive marksmanship to catch his crush's eye.
Billy, pulls off a perfect trick shot: "Not bad, huh? Just a little something I picked up from Starlight Knight."
Crush: "Wow, that's impressive! You're really good."
Billy, trying to act casual: "Oh, it's nothing. Just, you know, a hobby."
Special Attention: He gives special attention to his crush, remembering small details about their likes and dislikes. Whether it's their favorite snack or a specific hobby, Billy tries to incorporate these into his interactions with them.
Billy: "I remember you mentioned liking spicy food, so I brought you this hot sauce. It's got a kick, just like you!"
Crush, surprised: "You remembered? That's so sweet. Thank you, Billy."
Billy: "Of course! Anything to see you smile."
Protective Stance: Billy becomes protective of his crush, always positioning himself in a way that he can keep an eye on them. He wants to ensure they're safe and will step in if he senses any danger.
Billy steps in front of his crush: "Hey, stay close. I’ve got this covered. No one's getting past me."
Crush: "You don't have to do this, Billy."
Billy: "I know, but I want to. It's my job to keep you safe."
Clumsy Sweetness: When Billy gets flustered, he can become adorably clumsy, sometimes tripping over his own feet or dropping things. He laughs it off, hoping his crush finds it endearing rather than awkward.
Billy, stumbles slightly, almost dropping a package: "Whoops! That was... not supposed to happen."
Crush, giggles: "Are you okay?"
Billy, laughing nervously: "Yeah, just distracted by... something, or someone."
Secret Glances: He often steals glances at his crush when he thinks they’re not looking. 
Crush, catches Billy staring: "What is it? Something on my face?"
Billy, his voice faltering slightly with a hint of nervousness: "No, no! Just... admiring the view."
Crush, teasingly: "Smooth."
Confiding in Nicole: Billy confides in Nicole, seeking her advice on how to approach his crush. 
Billy: "Nicole, what do I do? I can't stop thinking about them, but what if I mess it up?"
Nicole, smirking: "Just be yourself, Billy. And maybe tone down the Starlight Knight lines a bit."
Acts of Service: He goes out of his way to do small, helpful things for his crush. Whether it's fixing a malfunctioning gadget or finding something they’ve misplaced, Billy is always eager to lend a hand.
Billy: "Hey, I noticed your bike was making a weird noise, so I tightened the chain and oiled the gears."
Crush: "You did that for me? Wow, thank you so much!"
Billy, rubbing the back of his neck: "It's no big deal, really. I just wanted to help."
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