#i still will be watching obviously bc i want to know what happens but i have a feeling things wont wrap up the way id like

[mayoshifts]

realization that i’ve shifted.

i don’t believe that i’ve told this story here (my memory could just be bad tho 😭)

BUT i’m gonna present it now 🕺🏽

back in 2020, i was watching to all the boys i’ve loved before 2. i remember that i stayed up to watch it as soon as it came out.

while watching it, i closed my eyes and suddenly i was in a different room. i still remember it so vividly but it had blue led lights and rock and band posters all around the room.

highkey, it reminded me of finn wolfhard. it looked like it would be his room or something.

i immediately was scared bcs i was in a completely different place. i looked around and was like 😦

i literally said “ i want to go back take me back!!😰” and the next thing i know i was back in my room. i was obviously spooked but then i started to question what happened. fast forward 4 years and i’m still questioning😑

over the years i’ve been gaslighting myself and saying “ohh you didn’t shift it was probably a dream” but last night i had an epiphany.

i 100% shifted. here’s why:

1. if i were dreaming, why did i immediately know that something was extremely wrong?

i’ve literally had 1460+ nights of dreams since then and not even my most terrifying realistic nightmares had instilled the same discomfort that this experience did.

2. i haven’t experienced anything like that since.

i figured if i were having a lucid dream, i would have had more experiences like that, but this specific one was SOO unique. i’ve tried to recreate the same conditions on multiple occasions but NOTHING can replicate what i experienced

3. it fits the description of a lot of shifting experiences that people talk about here.

lots of people preach “disconnect from shifting,” “be nonchalant,” “be indifferent towards shifting,” “shifting happens naturally, ” “it’s as simple as breathing.” and i genuinely think that’s what made me shift.

at the time, i had been doing shifting stuff but i took a hiatus. i wasn’t expecting to shift, but it was still somewhat prominent in my mind. as soon as i detached and let go, my subconscious was like “let’s shift 😈🤘🏽🤘🏽.” i’m noticing a trend where a lot of people who shift have just been relaxing/not focused on shifting so that helped confirm that i had shifted

THE WHOLE SITUATION IS FUNNY THO BCS THE ROOM GAVE ME FINN WOLFHARD VIBES AND MY LITERAL FIRST DR THAT I MADE IN 2019 WAS RELATED TO HIM AND HIS FRIENDS😭 the whole experience was just soo random

i’m still coming to terms with the fact that i ACTUALLY SHIFTED. tbh i’m upset that i didn’t stay longer considering i haven’t been able to do it again 😑. i don’t really know how to move forward with this and use it to my advantage (advice pls). all i know is, i’m about to put shifted in my bio🤘🏽🤘🏽

OMG WHAT IF I TRY TO GO BACK TO THAT ROOM??? HOLD ON YALL SCIENTIST MAYOSHIFTS IS MAKING A COMEBACK

edit: yall why did i accidentally put this as a draft and not a post at first. ����🏽‍♀️ i was trying to figure out why it didn’t show up on my blog

[aardvaark]

the leverage team would have had a games night… once. everyone cheated so much and in such increasingly extreme ways that all mentions of monopoly are banned in their headquarters (this makes talking about marks who monopolize the market very confusing)

[gibbearish]

kinda frustrating how we've spent the last few months acknowledging how a lot of well intentioned but guilt trippy social justice posts are like specifically designed to worm into ocd ppls brains and then now every single post abt palestine is "i dont care how bad your mental health is, i dont care how bad looking at all this makes you feel, if you don't read every single post you see on this topic in full you are a horrible person and directly contributing to their deaths. 'waaaah my mental health' well at least youre not being bombed, did you think about that??" and its like. i absolutely get where youre coming from but you dont get to complain that guilt tripping is bad then turn around and use it anyways because you think the cause youre using it for is worthwhile. like. everyone thinks the cause theyre using it for is worthwhile, thats why theyre using it. but its still a shit way to do it

[lunarharp]

er... extreme amount of dragon age: the veilguard scribbles to soothe my heart🐦‍⬛💀

[mell0bee]

perhaps i shouldnt say anything bc im not caught up but that imogen design..... hmmmm.

[nightowlfury]

honestly i used to think like. i might be the kind of person that prioritizes shipping over the actual themes in a story. but i am slowly realizing that im Rly not. and sometimes it irks me if the show itself does just that (prioritizing shipping over other themes and relationships), which...is sort of the point of a lot of thai bls

from what ive seen, the exception i think is p'aof's shows for me. in a lot of them he really rounds out all the characters and makes them exist outside of each other, and emphasizes those other relationships (familial, platonic, etc.) as really important. he does this while also satisfying the coupling expectations + integrating them cohesively so i have a ton of respect for him bc of that

but in other shows it sort of feels like...the goal above all else is to make ppl coo over the couples. the plot and other relationships come second to that and can be reduced further to make way for the romance. which. i guess is just another way to do it and im not saying the plot + other relationships are always Bad necessarily but idk. maybe just not my favorite way to go about things personally

[xochosoxo]

husband!gojo ✮| headcannons

gojoxfem!reader

MDNI -> warnings: afab reader (but anyone can read yk), sfw&nsfw, arranged marriage, slight angst, comfort, pet names, flufflufffluff!, cunnilingus, gojo is pussy whipped, fingering, creamycreamycreamiest creampies, reader calls gojo daddy!, tummypushing

a/n: i had a dream abt this with some random guy and when i woke up i was so disappointed :(( LOL angwah heres some quick gojo headcannons bc i truly miss him and im so lonely.

husband!gojo who you married per each family’s request, making your marriage an arranged one.

husband!gojo who hated the idea of being tied down.

husband!gojo who couldnt wait for the ceremony to end, however when he watched you walk down the aisle, looking so innocent, he felt a tug at his heartstrings.

husband!gojo who didnt know what to do when on your honeymoon. he didnt know whether or not to interact with you or to keep his distance like he promised himself. he decides for the latter.

husband!gojo who enjoys coming to work everyday after his honeymoon because his cute little wife always delivers his lunch to him despite not asking you to.

husband!gojo who starts to soften even more when he sees that you wait for him to come home from work. youre usually sleeping on the couch. he gently scoops you up in his arms and takes you to bed.

husband!gojo who sees that you start getting tired of the routine after a while. making his lunches, waiting for him to come home late. you stop delivering his lunches personally, opting to just give it to him before he leaves in the morning. he doesnt see you when he comes home either.

husband!gojo who makes sure to wash up before slipping into bed with you, wrapping his arms around you . he missed you.

husband!gojo who feels you wake the next morning, obviously confused to see his arms around you. he sighs before bringing you closer to his chest.

husband!gojo who whispers apologies and sweet nothings in your ear as you settle yourself into him with suspicion.

he strokes your head as he says. “im sorry. i know you didnt want this marriage either. im sorry that youve been doing all this alone. i promise ill be here for you. just tell me what you need and i will do everything to help you. youve changed me y/n.”

you look at him, with creased eyebrows, obviously still not trusting him fully.

“ill give you time.” husband!gojo sighs as he lets go of you to get ready for work. you still make him lunch that day.

husband!gojo who comes home and doesnt see you on the couch. he understands that he needs to wait for your response but there is a small part of him that is wondering whether or not you have left.

husband!gojo who sighs in relief when he opens the door to your shared bedroom, seeing you all dolled up in a pretty pj set, sitting comfy on the bed.

husband!gojo who smiles when he sees your face brighten in delight. you walk up to him.

husband!gojo who is surprised when you wrap your arms around him and kiss him with your soft lips. he groans into the kiss, regretting the fact the he never kissed you after the wedding.

husband!gojo who melts to your touch as your bring him to the bed. you remove his jacket and tie as your straddle him, kissing him more harshly.

husband!gojo who makes sure youre okay with with what’s going to happen next. he kisses you again when you say yes.

husband!gojo who takes his sweet time with you. stripping you from your garments,leaving you bare infront of him. he sinks his long fingers into your sopping cunt, your head lolling back in pleasure.

husband!gojo who’s eyes roll back when he finally tastes you. youre addcitive. he laps up your juices, swirling his tongue on your clit. you cum twice on your husband’s tongue, his hands holding your legs apart so they wont close. his fingers continues to scissor you until youre screaming.

husband!gojo who fucks you in missionary position, making sure to watch your face as your react to the pleasure hes giving you.

husband!gojo who cums inside of you only to turn that cum into a creamy mess around your pussy as he pounds into you some more. he can feel his creampie dripping out of you and down his balls.

husband!gojo who enjoys how loud youve become. moaning obscenities and calling him daddy. he wants to fuck you till your dumb!

“fuck princess, youre so fucking messy. fuc—nghh..” he tries to speak but your pussy is squeezing him too well he can barely get words out.

“please daddy!! i need—aghh.. i need you! dont stopp—ahh…” you groan as you have your fourth orgasm of night.

husband!gojo who watches hearts form in your eyes when he cums inside of you for the final time. you can feel his warmth trickling into your womb.

husband!gojo who pulls out and watches his loads flood out of you. he presses on your stomach, watching as more cum gushes out of you.

husband!gojo who brings a warm towel to wipe up the cream around your sex. you moan as he does so, still recovering from all of your orgasms.

husband!gojo who wraps you up into his arms once again, praising you for how well you did.

“you did so good love..” he says stroking your back.

husband!gojo who reminds you that he has fallen in love with you and will do anything and everything in his power to make sure that you are comfortable in this marriage with him.

husband!gojo who knows the two of you will be okay when you peck him on the lips and tell him that you love him.

[awzominator]

Day 13 Scars

the amount of effort I had to put into these and they still don’t look how I want is frustrating but alas time is not on my side

ramblings under the cut

Mikey: Gave Mikey Lichen Burns from that one time he got disintegrated and then reanimated via electricity. He died n got better and honestly it is one of the most violent injuries that I recall for him. Like he plays it off so easily cuz he has super powers and all that jazz but that’s so messed up. Also Raph yelling for him OOOFFFFF will never forget how filled w rage and hurt that dude was. He was ready to kill ❤️ Such a wild episode and I love how Mikey was so depended on in order for the plan to succeed. It was Mikey’s turn for the Self sacrificing bit and he crushed it

Leo: Get Shreddered idiot!!! The fucked up knee and throat from when he got beat up and thrown thru the window. This is def my fav event to happen which is a wild thing to say. It’s the most obvious thing to go for but I personally loved the farmhouse arc and Leo’s need for recovery. That dude is still not well and is repressing stuff but they don’t have time to heal. Their lives are too chaotic, too much is on the line, and Leo can’t afford to take the time to heal 100% none of them can tbh. I know a lot of ppl hate how 12 handled his knee injury but I loved it Bc it’s obviously not better but he’s a stubborn idiot who chooses to push everything down and out. He is the healthiest turtle for sure. I’m pretty sure in later episodes his knee gives out a few times don’t quote me tho it’s been a few years aha

Raph: His broken shell! After watching Lone Rat and Cubs and seeing where it came from, I always wondered if Splinter looks at it with loads of regret. A physical sign of his short comings that one time they almost got caught by the Kraang. A warning and a constant reminder they’ll never be safe, that splinter wont always be able to protect his babies no matter how hard he fights. I also like to HC he becomes the most hovering and overprotective of Raph while he’s still recovering Bc that shell broke so easy. Honestly seeing screen shots of close ups of Raphs shell is awesome to see both shell and plastron are broken.

Donnie: UGHHH THIS DUDEEEE !!!!! Literally had the hardest time Bc he goes thru a lot also but it’s more emotional and mental dude is fuked up in the head fr. I asked several ppl for help Bc I didn’t want to do another lichen burn thing from Karai’s trap. In the end I played around w the suggestions to see what would look most appealing to me. The scars on arm are from Slash (such a good episode thank you for the suggestion 🙌) as his arm was injured and in a sling at the end of the episode. The head scar def a big creative liberty Bc he does get injured there a lot ahah. I was thinking of Fourtrap again which lead to thinking about the time that Leo blew him up accidentally during is emo phase XD

[satoruxx]

PARACOSM OF THE GODS.

PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 11.5k words

SUMMARY: ok here we go, canon au, angst, fluff, best friends being in love, stsg being whipped but unable to express it, reader is clueless as usual, timeskips, canon compliant deaths, bittersweet, longing, mutual pining, emotionally stunted teens, dad!gojo makes an appearance, hopefully that’s it i'm tired of typing

RHEYA'S NOTE: highkey lowkey stressed posting bc this has been sitting in my wips for 4 years now. i honestly didn't have to add much to it i basically just proofread. but yeah when you maladaptive daydream and create a plot where you're a character in jjk and you're also in love with gojo and geto this is what happens. a little sad to let this go but it's time !! plus i can add more parts later. but anyways pls lmk what you think, i'm super curious to know <33

i. the unknown

satoru's first impression of you is anything but kind.  

his words come casually, free into the wind without care, and they aren't meant for you to hear. instead, they fall only to suguru's ears, evoking a deep chuckle and a slight shake of his head. his bangs swish a little with the movement, but satoru is too busy eyeing you over the frame of his shades to notice. 

you're lucky to have not heard it, because the intent with which it was said would have probably made your brow tick with frustration. he says it without a thought, as if he hasn't the slightest bit of interest in you as hints of arrogance fill his tone. 

"who's the rookie?" 

satoru and suguru sit outside against the patio railings of the classroom they had chosen for the day. it overlooks the grounds of the school, where they have a clear view of who approaches the main entrance. suguru absentmindedly clicks his lighter—shoko had gone to get another pack of cigarettes. 

it is from this higher point that they have a clear view of you. you're so obviously new to this, satoru thinks as he watches how you awkwardly stand in front of yaga sensei. 

he already wants to label you as a side character. it's mean, he realizes—cruel even, but he can barely bring himself to care. 

"yaga sensei mentioned that there'd be a new student joining us this week," suguru says, fingering the bangs hanging in front of his eyes. they roam over you with only slight interest before uttering your full name, just as his teacher had said it.

satoru repeats it with a hum. "not a big name or anything. a small-sized family of sorcerers i think." he shrugs carelessly. "but honestly i never really paid attention to all those stupid clan and jujutsu family lessons." 

suguru only responds with a good-natured chuckle, tearing his eyes away from the scene to look at his friend. "no shit." 

the two sit in quiet silence, watching yaga's lips move in structured, emotionless greetings as he shakes your hand. satoru is especially focused on the hunching of your shoulders and the way your eyes nervously dart around. 

suguru is the first to interrupt the peace. 

"maybe she's strong?" 

"are you kidding?" satoru scoffs as he stands up straight, shoving his fists into his pockets. he turns his nose up slightly. "that's not the attitude of someone who's confident in their abilities." 

ii. routine 

"can i ask you guys a question?" 

a cool breeze tickles your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake, and you suppress a shiver. the smell of the air tells you winter is fast approaching. 

"you just did," satoru hums, his snowy hair splayed out against stems of green grass. suguru's chuckle reverberates deep in his chest, and you have to push back an exasperated smile. 

"another one then," you press, leaning over satoru's face to force yourself into his view. his blue eyes pierce through yours over the dark-rimmed frames of his glasses, and even after seeing them so many times, they still feel as dominating as the first. he hums again, and you take that as your cue. 

"what did you first think of me when we met all those months ago?" 

satoru sits up quickly, and you can already feel your shoulders dropping when you catch a glimpse of the teasing smirk on his lips. he shifts so that he's directly facing you, leaning close so that the two of you are barely a palm's distance from one another. 

"thought you were an annoying little rookie~" he sings and you immediately shove at his shoulder.

"'m not a rookie anymore," you huff, and satoru laughs joyously. suguru only grins, his eyes darting between the two of you happily. satoru moves himself into a proper sitting position, digging his long fingers into your bag of chips and popping one into his mouth. you swat at his hand, even though you don't mean it, because though you complain about gojo satoru all the time, you would give him the whole world if you could. 

you and satoru take turns reaching into the bag. you wonder if the sound of crunching disturbs suguru. he's not asleep—he's just doing that thing where he keeps his eyes closed and escapes to his own land of tranquility. you'd like to give him as much peace as you can, so you stay quiet. satoru does too, but you think that's just because you aren't talking to him. 

the quiet is nice when you're with them. sometimes silence makes you feel alone—paranoid. it feels like there is some impending doom hovering over your shoulder, and all you can do is wait for it to come. but with them it is different. you know that any danger in the quiet will be caught by the two of them. maybe that's why it's so easy to let your guard down around them. you trust that they won't let you die.  

"i thought you were weak," satoru pipes up after a few minutes of silence. "you didn't seem like you were confident in your abilities, and that's a sign of weakness." 

after spending so much time with satoru and suguru, the word weak has permeated almost every one of your conversations. later you learned how much more significant it was for them to label someone as strong. you chase after the word—crave it.

"and turns out that wasn't true." suguru adds with a smile, his head leaning back against the trunk of the tree. his eyes are still closed serenely and you wonder if he can feel the way you're gazing at him. 

"yeah and now you act like some big hotshot," satoru grumbles, as though he doesn't want to admit to his old mistake, but you can hear his smile. it annoys you, the way his once degrading little nickname has now somewhat turned into a term of endearment. you would rather die than admit that you like hearing him say it. 

"well, I'm glad that i was able to prove you both wrong."

the conversation ends there. 

shoko returns a few minutes later, tossing you a can of soda and suguru a pack of cigarettes. as soon as she sits down in her spot under the tree you're forcing your head into her lap and kicking your feet onto satoru's legs. you ignore his complaints, because you know that in just a little bit he'll quiet down and his hand will rest over your ankle, fingers soft but firm. they'll occasionally drum some rhythmic tune, or draw nonsensical patterns against your skin.

shoko's fingers thread through your hair, just like they always do, and you know that in a few minutes you'll doze off in her lap, just like you always do. it's clockwork, this thing that you have with them. they make the days keep going—time doesn't stop for you. 

a part of you wishes you could freeze time at that moment. 

but you can't. 

iii. halcyon

"hey suguru?"

"hm?"

"how come you always do your hair the same way?"

suguru glances up from his book. he's seated at your desk, and for a minute, the breeze pushes your curtains so that they block your view of him. satoru groans lightly from your left, turning on his side to snuggle deeper into your pillow, and slumber overtakes him once more. him and shoko remain quiet, faces free of worry as they dream in a land that is so unlike the real world you live in.

"what do you mean?" suguru asks in response to your question. he has an amused smile on his face as he places his book on your desk, though his thumb and pointer finger keep his page.

"well…" you suddenly feel stupid for asking, but he's looking at you so intently now. "you have such nice hair. you could style it in so many different ways."

"are you saying you don't like my hair the way it is?" he frowns.

"no no!" you scramble, shaking your head emphatically. quite the opposite actually you think he's so so attractive—how on earth did you screw this up so badly? "that's not it i just—"

he laughs, tilting his head fondly. "i'm just messing with you, hotshot."

you blanch, before crossing your arms with a huff. "asshole…"

he chuckles, before lifting a calloused hand up to finger the tie that holds his hair in a bun. he glances back at you, before a michevious smile settles on his face. he gives the tie one sharp tug, and the bun falls away. black hair drops, resting on his shoulders, and you stare at him—oddly parched. wind brushes through the open window, tickling your curtains, tickling his now open hair. you had seen his hair down before, of course. in the few seconds after a sparring session when the bun had gotten loose, or when too many strands escaped the tie and fell in front of his face (he always pushed them away with an agitated huff). but now he looks different—good, you realize. he looks good.

"how should i style it then, hotshot?"

his question shakes you out of your daze. you hum in contemplation. "i don't know."

he laughs quietly, as to not wake the other two. "didn't you just say there were so many ways to style it? enlighten me then," he teases, reaching over to grab a small scrap of paper from your desk. he slots it where his fingers are holding place, and then closes the book. he swivels in the chair to face you completely, rolling over so that he's right in front of you.

"well…" you start, biting your lip in thought. "a ponytail maybe?"

suguru bunches his hair into his fist, holding it up against his head. "and? how do i look?"

you grin, eyeing the new style with a stifled laugh. "fantastic."

he laughs again, louder this time, before dropping his hand.

"it looked good though!" you laugh and he rolls his eyes fondly.

"yeah yeah," he dismisses with a wave of his hand. he looks back at you, eyes tracing over your hair before he grins wide.

"i like yours."

you blink. "mine?"

"the way you did your hair today," he points to the half up-half down style you've thrown together. a dark blue ribbon holds the hair in place—satoru had said it matched nicely with your uniform. suguru's eyes gleam as he appraises it. "it's nice. it looks really pretty on you."

something in your chest feels like it fell off a cliff.

"oh—" you stumble, before smiling at him because that's all you can do when he makes you feel like this. "thanks suguru."

"do mine like that," he says quickly.

once again, you blink owlishly and all you can manage is a stupid "huh?"

"do my hair like that," he repeats, getting up from the chair to sit at your feet, back towards you. he crosses his legs and puts his hands in his lap, patiently waiting.

"you can't do it yourself?" you tease, scooting closer to the edge of the bed.

"i can," he replies and you can hear the easy smile in his voice. "but i want you to do it for me."

"okay then!" you laugh before gently parting sections of his hair out. and then you work in silence, putting more effort into his hair than you've ever done with your own.

iv. fragility

"lady riko does not have any relations. when she was young, her family was involved in an accident…since then, i've been her caretaker. so please let her at least spend time with her fr—" 

"—so that makes you her family then." 

suguru's words seem to stun kuroi, the weight of riko's situation finally making itself clear as her face crumbles. 

"…yes." 

you listen to the way her voice wobbles, and try to suppress the poisonous lump forming in your throat. 

"then we do everything we can to make her happy," you say solemnly, leaving no room for argument. suguru seems to agree and says nothing—some deeper part of you feels something more than thankful towards him. 

"you're awfully sensitive for a jujustu sorcerer, you know that?" satoru comments offhandedly. you turn to look at him, meeting his piercing gaze over dark rims. 

"maybe," you concur. "is that considered weak?" 

satoru seems to ponder his answer, before shrugging, a light smile on his face. "to some people, maybe." 

you manage to smile back, and he takes in the expression with an odd look on his face. "say what you want, satoru. but you agree with me, don't you?" 

he looks away, eyes gazing out to the distance where you know riko is currently in class with her friends, trying to live the life she wants, and something in them softens considerably. 

"we'll do things the way she wants us to." 

it's one sentence, said without a smile or laugh, but hearing it fall from satoru's lips makes you beam at him. 

that's just your kindness, isn't it, satoru?

your heart leaps when you notice the tips of his ears tinge with rouge. 

v. longing

riko's hand is warm against the coolness of your fingers. your body feels hyperaware of your surroundings, toes deep in hot sand and salty air sticking to your skin. for some odd reason, you can't seem to relax. unconsciously, you tighten your grip around the young girl's palm. she glances up at you, but when you look down at her, she's wearing the biggest smile you've ever seen. 

satoru's presence makes itself known behind you—his shadow looms over yours in the sand. "it'll be fine," he says.

you can't see his face, nor can you see suguru who stands at his side, but your shoulders drop slightly, and you find yourself smiling back at riko. 

"i'm getting in the water!" she squeals eagerly, before dragging a helpless kuroi with her. satoru laughs—a clear, pristine sound—and follows after her. you watch the three of them with a fond smile, something akin to content settling deep within you.  

"and what are you planning on doing?" suguru asks. you turn to look at him, watching the way his heavy eyes stay focused on you. 

"hmm," you quirk a brow mischievously. "build sandcastles with me?" 

suguru blinks owlishly before he breaks out into a good-natured laugh. 

"deal." he walks closer to the water's edge, where the sand is damper, and crouches down. he turns to look at you over his shoulder. "don't make me do all the work, hotshot." 

you stand there, taking him in—really taking him in. he's just as clear as the sky behind him, and the sun shining on his face makes his smile glow. you want him to continue smiling at you like that well into the future. the waves crash onto the shore, as though the ocean is chasing his radiance, and an overwhelming feeling of unfiltered affection swells in your chest. 

your feet carry you forward, and you think that they might always lead you back to him. 

the sun rises as time passes, and occasionally you spare a glance at satoru and riko, who are screaming as they splash water at one another. and then you catch a glimpse of kuroi, who stands with her feet in the water, a soft smile on her face. 

and in that moment, nothing can be ruined. 

"what's wrong?" suguru's voice calls out, and you tear your gaze away from the others to look back at him. he stands behind you with two strawberry ice cream cones in his hands. 

"nothing," you hum, a serene smile on your face. "everything's perfect."

his eyes trace your face, stopping to linger on your smile, and they soften. "it is, isn't it?" 

he turns to the ocean, watching satoru and riko, and his eyes sparkle. "i hope it stays like this always." 

"me too." 

he bends down to take his place at your side before he hands you a cone. you take it from him. suguru's eyes drift away from you to look down at his castle. 

"i think it looks great," he expresses, before taking a lick of his ice cream. 

you roll your eyes with a huff. "yeah, because you made it look so nice. you're unnecessarily good at this, suguru." 

he laughs, waving his hand dismissively. "no no, we did it together! and yours is nice too!" 

"maybe," you grin, looking at his castle. "but yours is extra pretty." 

he smiles back, before pointing at a small hole in his sand tower. "see this room? it's yours." 

"mine?" you chuckle.

"yeah, all yours," he hums softly. "this is my castle and you get your own room." 

"oh? and why's that?" 

suguru's gaze lingers on you, and his dark eyes soften considerably. "because you'll always have a place in my home." 

you stare at him, speechless—something hammers away at the inner crevices of your chest. 

"and this one—" he points to another hole a few inches away from the first. "—is my room." 

"well in that case, that room is mine too!" you declare.

"what?" he barks out a laugh. "how does that work?" 

"well…" you grin at him, the sun burning into your cheeks. "because my home is wherever you are!" 

suguru's cheeky smile fades and his eyes widen. he looks at you, mouth agape, and you're about to say something else before sticky coolness trickles down your wrist. 

"ack!" you hurry to wipe away the strawberry ice cream dripping down your skin and you completely miss the red that creeps up his neck and seeps into his ears. 

vi. ice bath

shoko's fingers are unbelievably soft. you're grateful that you were unconscious through most of her procedures on your battered body—you don't think you would've handled the pain too well. she's quiet as she works over the large wound that now covers almost half of your torso. the man with the scar on his lip had done quite the number on you, and you don't think you'll ever forget the searing ache of his blade slicing through your flesh. he had left you in a bloodied pile, isolated, and you hadn't seen what had happened to suguru after the man shot riko. you could only lay there, vision swimming as a bitter taste filled your mouth—a reminder of the life you failed to protect.

the pain had been the only thing you could focus on, until satoru was on his knees at your side and tightly gripping your shoulders. your hazy focus was drawn to his lips as he spewed curses and insults at you. 

"why didn't you run away, you little shit," he had shouted, a feral look in his eyes. there was something different about him—a change in his very being that you could see even in the throes of death. "shoko's coming, do you hear me? for fuck's sake, keep your eyes open, hotshot!" 

you swore you saw his eyes shine behind that look of uncontrolled anger. he had been talking a mile a minute and your focus had waned until you could only see his lips move, no sound reaching your ears.

you've never thought satoru looked more godly than he did at that moment.

suguru eventually found his way into your field of vision—knelt at satoru's side. his large hand had squeezed your limp fingers in a death grip. he was sweating, and his eyes were darting back and forth between your pale face and bloodied torso, something akin to guilt swimming in them. you wished that you had the strength in you to squeeze his hand in return. the last thing you remember seeing is his dark hair falling in front of his face as he turned to shout at whoever was approaching.

now you're awake. disoriented and bleary, but awake, and all you can look at is the way shoko's bangs fall over her furrowed brows. she's taken care of the bleeding, and now all that's left is a dull throbbing, reminding you of how close you had toed the line with death. you don't know this yet, but the scar will remain for the rest of your life, and that dull throbbing will be a permanent reminder of your narrow escape. 

shoko hasn't said a word since she noticed your eyelids flutter open. you want to ask her so many things. important things that cannot wait: 

where's satoru? how about suguru? i saw them both. satoru's alive, right? and suguru, too? the man—with the scar. where did he go? he said that satoru—riko….where is riko? and—and kuroi…i—i..couldn't save riko. when did you get here, shoko? and why am i the only one who's being taken care of by you? 

you want to ask her. but she's making a very odd expression as her hands ghost over your body. you've never seen it before, this odd quirking of her lips. her teeth sink into the bottom one, and she chews and bites and nibbles like it's some kind of nervous tell. 

"shoko?" 

it's all you can manage to say—all you dare. your voice is dry, shaky, and sounds almost foreign to your ears. you're going to ask more, at least one of those thousand questions you had asked in your head earlier, but you don't get to because she speaks before you. 

"shut up," she spits, and the wobble in her voice has you pinching your lips shut and feeling closer to death than you did before. 

vii. acid rain

the sound of clapping is deafening. you don't think you've ever heard a sound so horrid in your life before, and you feel as though your ears are bleeding heavily. you can faintly make out the conversation between satoru and suguru, your ears struggling to pick out the tones of their voices. 

"no…" you hear suguru say quietly. "it doesn't matter if I'm fine…"

you can feel satoru's eyes roam over your motionless body, watching the way you gaze out into the crowd impassively. 

"let's get out of here, guys."

your feet carry you numbly, and you aren't aware of anything except the way riko's arm is swinging in front of you lifelessly. there are no mirrors around—no way of catching the track of tears cutting over your cheeks. the places where the salt touches burn like acid. you say nothing. 

satoru's gaze feels intrusive. he doesn't need to ask you anything—he just knows. it's like your body is radiating the emotions tumbling around in your gut. 

you're awfully sensitive for a jujutsu sorcerer, you know that?

"do you want to…kill them all?" 

the question stuns you, and for the first time, you can shake yourself out of your daze to look at satoru directly. blood is smeared over the left side of his face, cerulean eyes dimmed, as though something had pulled the shine out of them. red seeps into the fine hairs of his restless eyebrows. 

"right now, i probably wouldn't even feel anything," he continues, staring at you listlessly.

you think satoru might be feeling just as numb as you are. you don't know what happened to him yet. the last you had heard, gojo satoru had been killed by the man with the scar. he had boasted about it to you before he attempted to kill you too. but then satoru was at your side again, completely alive as he ran your battered body to shoko like a crazed man. 

you'll find out later who the man with the scar on his lip was, and what kind of legacy he had left behind. but for right now, all you see is a teenager with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you know your answer.

satoru could help the pain go away; he'd be able to make the clapping stop—maybe then your ears wouldn't bleed anymore. but you couldn't ask that of him. 

"forget it. it's pointless," suguru mutters, and you're glad he's on the same page as you. not because any of these people deserve pity, but because satoru deserves a break—one less burden for him to carry. 

you hear suguru say more, but you can't focus. you continue to listen to the sound of the clapping, and once again lose yourself as you stare at riko's bloodied fingertips. 

"pointless, huh?" satoru mumbles in response to suguru's answer. "does there need to be a reason?" 

"of course. it's important," suguru's voice doesn't carry the same pleasant tone it always does. instead, it sounds strained, and tired beyond belief. unsure. "especially as jujutsu sorcerers." 

satoru doesn't respond, but you know that he's measuring the weight of his friend's words. that's how it was with the two of them. they both balance each other out—their moral compasses influenced by one another. but then you feel satoru look up from riko's body and turn to you. suguru follows suit, and before you can wonder why, it hits you: satoru had asked you both. 

you suck a deep breath in, feeling unusually breathless. the flesh of your stomach tingles with a painful reminder of what might've been, and you make up your mind. 

"killing them won't change anything," you say, breaking your silence. the tears on your cheeks have dried, but they leave a rigid trail in their wake—a trail that still stings. "let's just leave it at that." 

viii. fever dreams

satoru lies next to you. 

a few nights have passed since riko's death, and you've chosen to stay holed up in your room. you're not sure why—death has always played a big role in your life. you don't understand why it's different this time. 

tonight is different as well. while you've maintained a distance from everyone since that day, save for classes and passing by people on school grounds, today you've decided to let someone in. satoru's the lucky one, mostly because he would've pestered you until you opened your door for him anyway. 

it's strange though. he had knocked over and over, and when you finally opened up with a snappy jab at his annoying personality, he had brushed straight past you and laid across your bed. he hadn't said a word since then, and you've found yourself lying next to him in silence for quite a while. 

his hand stretches out in the darkness and you can feel his fingertips brush over the skin of your arm. it's delicate, like he's testing his limits, but you understand. it's just to ground himself—to know that you're still here, with him. to be sure that you're still alive.

you think the scar that goes down your body bothers him a lot more than it bothers you. 

"'m here," you mumble sleepily. your fingers reach up to bump against his knuckles, and you hear him inhale deeply. his voice is throaty when he replies. 

"i know." 

ix. doubt

satoru learns that you've never been kissed before and he teases you for it.

not in a mean way, but in a way that has your cheeks heating and your eyes avoiding his. suddenly it feels like the gap between ages 16 and 17 is huge. he's barely even a year older than you and you're in the same year, but it feels as though he knows so much more about the world than you do. you want to ask suguru if it's bad that you've never had a kiss, but you don't. suguru rarely talks these days. sometimes he'll have conversations with you but won't look in your eyes when he speaks. 

"hey listen, hotshot. if you don't get a kiss by…" satoru hums, an eager smile on his face as he swings an arm around your shoulders and contemplates his words. "…let's say 27, then i'll give one to you!" 

there's an odd note of glee in his voice. 

"shut up, toru," you groan, heat flooding your cheeks. "quit joking around." 

he laughs loudly, pulling your cheek teasingly. "aw, i'm just playing. it's not a bad thing i promise!" 

your shoulders relax slightly as the snowy-haired sorcerer continues to speak. 

"i just thought that you would've kissed someone by now," he shrugs. "wasn't there that one guy you went on a few dates with? the one you met when we went to yokohama?" 

there's an almost sour expression on his face as he speaks, but you're too frustrated to care. "just because i went on a couple of dates with him doesn't mean i kissed him!"

a broad teasing smile appears on satoru's face. "is that so?" 

"ugh, i'm only 16!" you hiss, shoving him away from you. "besides i'm saving it for someone special!"

"good," you hear suguru speak up, and you turn to look at him. his fingers are interlocked, elbows resting on his knees, and he's staring down at his hands like they hold the answers to some deep questions he has. "it is something irreplaceable after all." 

x. shadow

satoru's grin is proud as he stands before the three of you, his loose shirt billowing in the summer breeze.

you stare at him, heart thumping as shoko lets out a confused gasp. "huh? what the hell was that?"

"did it automatically choose the target for your technique?" suguru asks.

"yep!" satoru stresses the word, spinning the pencil suguru had thrown as he explains. "though i am the target. i've pretty much automated what i used to have to do manually."

your head is spinning.

"now i can tell an object's danger levels based the strength of its cursed energy, its speed, mass, velocity, shape—whatever. i want to be able to discern poisons too but that's pretty hard right now." satoru's voice is even when he explains, though you can make out the hints of pride that permeate his tones. you think his voice has gotten a little deeper too. "basically this is gonna allow me to keep my limitless technique active all the time!"

"that's gonna fry your brain!" shoko interjects, shaking her hair out of her eyes.

"yeah but i can do it while i continuously generate energy on my own. that way my brain stays fresh."

you can't help but let out an amused scoff. "what brain?"

satoru chucks the eraser at you, and you laugh as it bounces off your shoulder harmlessly.

"i've been working on shortening my hand signals so i can activate red and blue simultaneously." he continues, lips twitching upward as he gives you an exaggerated glare. "after this the only things i need to work on are domain expansion and long-distance teleportation. which i should be able to do if we set up some training courses here at school."

you think if someone examined you closely, they would see the stars in your eyes when you look at satoru.

"shoko~" he calls out, grinning eagerly. "think you could get me some lab rats?"

shoko groans as satoru bounds over to pester her more emphatically. you watch him, thinking you've never seen a person quite so magnificent.

god personified into a 17-year-old body. and yet it is a body that stays so close to you—well within your reach. maybe there's nothing so godly about that at all.

"don't you get tired of getting stronger and stronger, jeez?" you complain, crossing your arms as you raise a brow at him. satoru wets his lips as he throws you a smug smile.

"don't worry hotshot, you'll catch up to me someday!" he gives you an exaggerated wink over the frames of his glasses, and you shake your head somewhat fondly.

"no way! i never want to be at your level," you huff. "i'm very comfortable living in your shadow, thank you very much!"

a strange look passes over his face, almost puzzled, but the dip in his brows melts away as he approaches you. "well—" he slings an arm over your shoulder. "if my shadow makes you happy then you're more than welcome to stay there."

you don't have time to reply. pale lashes flutter at you—a backdrop of cerulean. you think white and blue may be the prettiest combination of colors in the world.

"suguru?" satoru's voice is casual, yet the amusement has dropped from it. his arm is heavy around your shoulders. "have you lost weight? are you okay?"

you look up, seeing tired eyes behind dark stands of hair. suguru's cheekbones are prominent, and you have the sudden urge to reach out and trace your fingers over them.

his lips twitch upward weakly. "it's just the summer heat…"

his lavender eyes drift to your face as he says it, and he tilts his head as he scrutinizes your worried expression. "…i'll be fine."

xi. hellfire

you hear suguru before you see him.

his breaths come loud as he pushes the door to the morgue open, the metal clanging heavily. his eyes bore into your back, taking in your clenched fists and raised shoulders that seem to tremble.

you wonder who told suguru you'd be here. maybe nanami, who was here not long ago, and had sent you a text that merely said: the mission went badly.

or maybe it was satoru, who had been chatting with you near the entrance of campus when he saw the myriad of emotions pass over your face as you read the text. he had probably called suguru as soon as you left.

it doesn't matter—you can't bring yourself to care.

you can only think about the way haibara had smiled at you before he left that morning.

now that smile is covered by a dirty white sheet, and you can't tear your eyes away from it. the taste of blood and vomit is heavy on your tongue.

suguru says your name quietly. you can't even look at him—you're scared that you'll cry if you do.

you don't ever want to cry in front of him. or satoru—so weak in front of those who are so strong.

"he asked if i wanted to go with them and i said no because i was lazy," you hiss, teeth clenched as you spit out the words with venom. "if i had just stopped thinking about myself for a second—"

your fingers dig into the flesh of your palms—deep, deep, deeper.

you hear suguru click his tongue, and his hands wrap around yours. he yanks your fingers apart fiercely, thumbs smoothing over the bloodied indents you've made in your own skin. you tear your eyes away from the body to finally look at him.

"don't—" his breath catches as his thumbs still over your flesh, eyes going hard as he takes in the blood.

he blurs in and out of focus. his head whips up when he hears you sniffle, and his lips slant ruefully. "you—"

"i'm fine," you interrupt, blinking pointedly and taking a deep breath. "it's fine—i mean it's not fine—but i c—"

"stop." suguru grabs your shoulders, giving you an even stare. you don't know how you didn't notice it before, but he looks thinner, older. there are dark circles under his eyes—poison seeping into his skin. "you need to rest."

you stare back at him silently, but you don't feel like you agree. something about this is making you feel restless, like there is so much you need to make up for. his grip tightens, before he's wordlessly leading you to take a seat—he finds his place next to you.

"satoru took over the mission." he stares at the lifeless body on the table as he speaks. you lower your gaze.

"and nanami?" your throat feels like it's closing. suguru inhales deeply.

"he went back to the dorms."

"okay."

you try to figure out if there is any meaning in having this conversation. despite everything, weren't you expected to wake up tomorrow morning and head out on a mission once more? and when you return, you're sure that there'll be another faceless body taking haibara's place.

the cycle continues—clockwork. it scares you, just how replaceable you are.

haibara, nanami, you, another, nameless—interchangeable.

not like satoru. not like suguru. not like the strong.

you lean your head against suguru's shoulder, fingering the hem of your uniform skirt. the fabric is cool to the touch—it seems darker, heavier. heat radiates from the body next to you, and there's something about him that's making your stomach churn with nerves. "suguru?"

his voice sounds far away. "hm?"

"are you okay?"

he stiffens and you suddenly fear you've said too much—nosy, intruding, out of place. you stumble. "it's just, we haven't talked much lately."

"i'm fine," he answers, and you can hear a smile in his voice—whether it's real or fake you can't tell. "just a little tired."

you know there is truth to this. but it scares you, how this tiredness of his has lingered for months. you don't know how to tell him that.

"okay…" your voice is barely a whisper, heavy with unspoken words that you don't know how to formulate. somehow you find that silence has always been your only option.

but like usual, silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable.

haibara's smile burns behind your eyelids.

"it should be a relatively simple mission. if you're not doing anything today senpai, would you like to come with us?"

his voice tickles your ears.

"that's alright! i'll get going then! oh right, today's mission is a little farther than usual, so we'll probably be back late! what would you like me to bring back for you?" 

hypoxia crushes your lungs, your blood burns. selfish selfish selfish. you've only ever cared about yourself.

suguru's arm curls around your shoulder before you even realize you're crying. his palm is warm as it smooths over your hair, and all you can worry about tainting him with your ridiculous tears.

you don't ever want to burden him—just want to quietly live in his shadow.

"i don't—" you internally cringe at the throaty rasp of your voice, swiping a hand at your nose. "i shouldn't be so sensitive about—"

"it's not your fault." he quietly hushes you, grip tightening imperceptibly. through your tears you can see him adam's apple bob, and for some reason that makes you feel worse. you're too scared to look at his expression, even though his voice is resolute. "none of this is our fault."

something has changed in the way he speaks now. something has settled, a confirmation of some idea that has been brewing for a long time now.

you don't say another word, but somehow he manages to sear himself into your very being. he's warm, and fuzzy, and he smells like sandalwood and incense. 

you don't know how long suguru let's you pathetically sob into his shoulder.

but you think you're embarrassed that he has taken pity on a wounded animal's cries.

xii. split

he looks different, but also the same. you've seen him wear that sweater before. it's plain black, no patterns, and you know that there's a loose string on the inside of the left sleeve that he was always too lazy to cut. you've always liked that sweater—always liked the way he looked in it. 

you liked it so much that you've even stolen it a few times yourself. 

but now it looks different. older and dirtier—as though soiled by some unknown curse. 

that's what everything came down to, right? curses. 

suguru stands in front of you, almost no trace of emotion on his handsome face, and his expression makes you want to turn and run. you miss the calm serenity that normally graced his features, wishing that you had some kind of cursed technique that could turn back time. but you aren't blessed like that—you wonder what sin you might've committed in a past life that made you so unlucky in this one. 

"you look confused," he comments. you reel at how casually he speaks to you, like it's just another afternoon sitting under that stupid tree. like he's leaning his head back against the trunk and watching you and satoru bicker with that fond look in his eye. 

"suguru," you speak, an odd strain in your voice. you struggle to comprehend this odd turn of events. you've had time to understand that he's now a different person than the one you once knew. you know that he's responsible for killing 112 innocents, including his own parents. you know that he's now an enemy to jujutsu society and you know that you should kill him right at this moment.

but he looks so much like suguru, like your suguru, that you can only manage to stand there, frozen in place. his eyes drift over your body, taking in your pajamas, the bath towel in your hands, and the small drops that trickle from your hair, and you can see the familiarity settle in his expression. 

"why are you here?" you choke out. you feel an overwhelming sense of danger in your gut, knowing that your family is just a few rooms over from where he stands now. 

"at your family home, you mean?" he asks casually. a small, almost amused smirk appears on his face. "you said i was always welcome." 

you did say that. sometime last year or the year before, when you had invited satoru, suguru, and shoko over to visit during one of your quick holidays. suguru had sat across from you at your dinner table. he complimented the food and your father smiled one of his rare smiles. you had chewed quietly to hide your grin.

you don't know what to say to him now. 

"everything they said about you," you whisper, taking a step toward him. he remains rooted in place, but his eyes follow your movements. they shift when he catches your fingers gripping your towel tighter. "is it true?" 

"do you think it is?" he asks, and you gulp. it feels like he's baiting you into some kind of trap. 

"i don't want to believe that it is," you answer, voice shaking. "that you would ever do something so…"

the sentence hangs in the air, and he tilts his head imperceptibly. something in his eyes changes as he focuses on the drops falling over your shoulders. 

"well i'm sorry to squash your hope," he raises his arms in a shrug. "but everything you heard is completely true." 

your head aches, but you're not surprised by his confirmation. "why would you…?"

suguru hums, a dark look falling over his face. "do you remember the conversation we had after haibara's funeral? do you remember what i told you when he died?" 

anger flares in your gut at the mention of haibara, and the bath towel crumples in your hold. "don't say his name," you hiss through gritted teeth. "don't act like he's the reason—just…don't bring him into this. please." 

suguru licks his lips, eyes going soft before he tries again. 

"everything used to make sense back then," he sighs. "back when the strong existed to protect the weak. but it's not true." 

"suguru—" 

"the reason why we suffer is because of them," he interjects evenly, though frustration is clearly evident in the curve of his brows and the volume of his voice. "we clean up their messes. they create problems and we die for it." 

you're stunned into silence, at the way he's raising his voice at you, at the way he's speaking so firmly about this horrible topic, at everything. he seems to realize the effect of his speech, and he quells his anger to speak quieter. "that's why i'm doing this. i'm going to create a world without non-sorcerers, so that sorcerers like you and i can live peacefully." 

a lump forms in your throat because god, he's right. he's so right. your life would be a thousand times better without curses. non-sorcerers were the reason curses existed. but the way he's going about this…

"suguru," your voice shakes, but you press on. "i get it. i really do—" 

"i know you do," he interrupts. "you always have. even back then…" 

he takes a step closer to you, reaching out to finger the towel in your hands. "but you don't agree with the way i'm doing it, right?" 

you bite your lip, and he smiles at the sadness in your expression. "you're so easy to read, hotshot." 

you ignore the way the nickname stings. "i just—how could you kill innocent people like that? your own parents, suguru."

he looks away from you, steely resolve in his eyes. "if i made exceptions for my parents, that would kinda make me a hypocrite, wouldn't it?"  

you don't know what to say to that. he doesn't seem to have anything else to add either. 

he looks around your old bedroom, eyes sparkling as they catch a picture of the four of you from your first year. satoru's arm is slung around shoko. the dark-haired female has her elbow resting on your shoulder, her tongue sticking out playfully. you're clinging to suguru's arm, and satoru's free hand is squishing your cheeks together. the four of you are laughing. 

nobody has laughed in a while now. 

you tear your gaze away from the picture frame to look at him. he's so unbelievably close, and he's gazing down at you with this foreign look in his eyes, the picture forgotten behind him. 

he slips his fingers into your hair. his palm is large enough that it can brush the side of your face, and you wonder why your body doesn't flinch away from those bloodstained hands.

"it's okay," he mumbles, a faraway look in his eyes. they remain trained on your hair, but it feels like he's looking straight through you. like you're nothing more than a ghost he wants to erase. he's so close—you can count his dark lashes as they brush against his cheeks. "it's difficult. i don't expect you to understand." 

his words incite a sudden flare of anger in your gut. it burns something fierce, and in that moment you hate him. 

"no, i don't," you reply indignantly. he pauses, now really looking at you, and his brows quirk upward in what seems to be surprise, because—well, he's never seen you make such an expression at him before. "you never tried to help me understand. you just left." 

a strained silence follows. his fingers twitch against your cheek.

"this doesn't concern you," he says finally. "i don't need you to understand my actions." 

you recoil, as though he's physically hurt you, and your expression falls so hard that it almost makes him regret saying it. almost. 

"if it doesn't concern me, then why are you here?" you ask again, and you see suguru's shoulders drop. "you know that i have orders to kill you. i might not be able to because you've always been stronger than me. but you know that i'll…" 

go down fighting you, is what you want to say, but the words leave a nasty taste in your mouth. but suguru seems to know what you're implying because a wry smile appears on his lips. his fingers twirl a strand of your wet hair. 

"i'm here to say goodbye," he says finally. another tense silence fills the space between you both, and suguru can see the way your fingers shake between the folds of your towel. 

"you're a little bit late for that, aren't you?" you choke out, a strange tilt to your voice as you break eye contact with him. "you left school weeks ago, and you didn't say a word to me then." 

"better late than never, right?" 

the softness in his tone makes you turn to look at him again, and you desperately want to ingrain the features of his face into your head. the gentle slope of his eyes and sweetness of his smile. he almost looks like the suguru you once knew, and you suddenly have the urge to mourn his death. 

his face becomes blurry, the edges becoming less pronounced, and you can see the way his expression falls. 

"i didn't come all the way here to make you cry." his hand drops from your face and he takes a step back. your fingers hurry to wipe at your waterline, and you shake your head. 

"'m not crying." 

suguru smiles ruefully, and his eyes suddenly look devoid of life. he takes another step back—your heart plummets.

he says your name once, quietly, and it hangs in the air as you wait for him to say more. 

he doesn't. 

"you know that I'm not supposed to let you leave alive, right?" you mumble, fingers toying with the towel in your hand. "but i can't—i mean—"

"hm," he chuckles. "still as sensitive as ever, huh? s'okay…" 

he moves toward you again and his hand gently cups the back of your neck. "i think it's your best quality. makes you better than most people in our world."

he presses his lips to your forehead tenderly, and you feel your eyes widen behind your tears. 

you probably could've stopped him, because you're aware that he's now suddenly behind you, and that he's raising his hand. you can stop him, but a part of you thinks that if it's death at suguru's hands, maybe it's not such a bad way to go. 

you accept your fate then and there. 

you'll find out later that suguru never had the intention to kill you then. perhaps he was waiting for a more opportune time, waiting for there to be a meaning behind it. you're not sure. but when you wake up tucked in your bed cozily, you'll feel the remnants of him lingering around you.

he was warm, and fuzzy, and he smelled like sandalwood and incense.

xiii. sanctify

satoru's at your door again. 

you've memorized his knock patterns. he always knocks three times, then leaves a pause, then twice more. for someone so erratic, he can be quite predictable. 

"what's up, satoru?" you call out, not looking up from your busy hands. there are a couple of empty cardboard boxes open on your bed, and you've been placing things into them all morning. things that should've been put away a long time ago. you pause on one of your old test papers, and in suguru's dark, blocky handwriting you read: 

YOU GOTTA STUDY MORE DUMBASS.

underneath it, satoru had scrawled: 

hotshot failing class now huh? :P

and shoko had added: 

both of you stfu you're failing too 

you had drawn a heart next to her name. 

"whatcha doin'?" a familiar voice chirps. "spring cleaning?"

satoru stands directly behind you, peering over your shoulder. you can practically feel his aura shift when he notices the items you're putting away. 

"cleaning of some sort," you sigh, before turning to look over your shoulder. "i've been…putting it off." 

he doesn't move—just continues to stare down at the paper in your hands. you think maybe you shouldn't have let him in. sometimes you forget that satoru might have his own sensitivities—you've always viewed him as the strongest.

a few strands of his hair tickle your cheek, and you scrunch your nose in response. he then turns to you, eyes blinding as he studies you over the frames of his shades. 

"want help?" 

"please." you don't intend to sound so needy, but the way you whisper the word has him immediately grabbing your wrist and sitting you down next to him on the bed. 

"how are we sorting this stuff?" he asks, his voice oddly calm. he hasn't let go of your arm yet, and some quiet part of you is grateful. 

"i was putting our old school stuff in that box. books, papers…" you answer softly, and satoru nods in understanding. "and in the other box…" 

you inhale deeply through your nose. satoru waits, strangely patient. you're not sure if you're imagining it, but you think he squeezes your wrist. 

"…are all of suguru's things." 

there's a moment of silence—a quick mourning for what is no longer there. 

"it's stupid stuff that he left behind, you know?" you chuckle, even though nothing is funny. "some old shirts from when you two would sleep over, his old textbooks, a few pictures from our holidays—shit like that." 

satoru hums. he's not looking at you—instead he's staring at the box, a frown on his face. 

"i guess he didn't really need those things for where he was going. or for wherever he is now," you mumble. 

"guess not." 

you're not sure what's going through his head. satoru's reaction to suguru leaving had been chaotic at best. it was so hard to tell how he felt about it. you knew he was angry, confused, betrayed. but he never showed things like that. you think it might have to do with being the strongest. you're not sure though—you never were strong like him.

you wish there was a way to tell him that he could share his feelings with you, but you can't think of a way that won't be awkward. 

a ticklish sensation crawls up your wrist and you look down to watch satoru's first two fingers tap against the inside of your palm. his thumb brushes against yours as he lets out a heavy exhale. 

"let's get started then, hotshot." 

he looks down at you as he says the words, and you think you might cry. but you want to be strong, like him, so you offer him a smile. he gives you one in return. you realize there isn't that much warmth in it, not like it used to have—you're sure that yours isn't that warm either. 

but it's enough for the two of you. 

"you look tired, toru," you chuckle wryly, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair from his face. his eyes flutter at the touch, and you honestly think this might be the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. 

"so do you." 

"i am," you admit honestly. 

"'s okay," he mumbles. his fingers tap against your palm once more. "'m here." 

"i know," you answer. you always are.

nothing more is said as satoru stands up. he makes his way over to your desk and pulls one of suguru's old sweaters from your chair. you watch him fold it neatly, smoothing out the creases with care, before placing it into the box—you smile once more. 

you think the scent of sandalwood tickles your nose, but it's gone in an instant.  

both of you work in relative silence, sorting through the things in your room quickly. you're surprised at how bare it looks as you're nearing the end, as though there's nothing more to your life than old high school recollections. 

you finish putting the last few polaroids into the box when satoru speaks up. 

"hey." 

you look up and find him staring at you, so you turn to face him completely, giving him your full attention. 

"zenin toji—" the name sends a painful tingle up your body. "—left something behind." 

you frown. "what are you talking about?" 

"a kid. he's got a kid. and i was gonna go meet him today," satoru shrugs. you try to read his emotions, but as usual, he's giving you nothing. "the old man said something about the zenin clan buying up his kid before i killed him. i was gonna go see if there's something i could do about that." 

you sigh before raising a brow, an amused lilt to your voice. "and why have you kept this a secret?" 

satoru's trademark smirk appears, and he walks over to sling an arm around your shoulders. "who knows?" he quips nonchalantly. "guess i was waiting until we were bored. we need something to do now, don't we?" 

you glance at the packed boxes on your bed, and then look around your empty room. everything is always changing, but satoru is constant. 

"i guess so," you grin. his eyes shine, and for a second you see a familiar teenager at the beach, and then a familiar teenager under an old tree. you think you hear waves, and the crinkling of a bag of chips. 

"good," he chirps, walking you to the door, the arm around your shoulder secure. "his name's megumi, and we're gonna make sure he gets strong."

xiv. idyll

it takes you a little over four months to get used to megumi's eyes. they aren't unsettling or invading, like a certain snowy haired sorcerer, but they do give you chills when you first notice them. chills and a fleeting feeling of metal slicing up and down through your flesh. you just have to steady your breathing and remind yourself that the son is not the father.

tsumiki is an angel. you didn't think that kids that age could be so emotionally competent, but she's a pleasant surprise. she had been awfully protective over megumi, fidgeting with a firm hand on his shoulder as you and satoru invaded their space and upturned their lives. even after they had settled into the humble apartment satoru had purchased, tsumiki was still so overly cautious. it was obvious she still didn't trust either of you, but you thought it was admirable of her, and you relay this thought to satoru one day.

"think they hate us?" he asks, squishing his cheeks between his lithe fingers as he eyes the different milk cartons over the rims of his glasses.

"i'm pretty sure they just don't trust us that much," you reply, placing a few packs of instant ramen into the cart. "can you blame them? we're just random strangers who came up and basically kidnapped them."

"i'd like to say adopted!" he points out with a grin, before he sighs. "but we've already proved we're just doing this to help them. but they still barely talk at all."

"they're just being careful. megumi's still a little young and he looks like he doesn't give a shit about most stuff anyway," you chuckle as you remember the expression on the first grader's face as he spoke to your cocky friend. "and tsumiki's being cautious for both of them."

"she doesn't need to be cautious of us!" satoru dramatically whines, pulling out a carton of whole milk and placing it into the cart. you shiver as the cold air hits your skin, eyeing the sorcerer with an exasperated smile. he shuts the door with a huff. "i've been such a good dad!"

you roll your eyes, shoving his arm as he starts pushing the cart down the aisle. "she definitely should be cautious of you, you creep."

satoru looks down over his shoulder, appalled, though his eyes sparkle with mirth. "and why do you say that?"

"have you seen yourself? crazy 19 year old man that kidnaps kids," you mutter somewhat sarcastically, falling into step with him like it's normal. satoru grins at that—amused.

"i think it's pretty cool of her to be that responsible though," you continue, voice going softer as you think about them, and satoru hums in what you think might be agreement. you suddenly grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks and he turns to look at you.

"you think we should get another carton of milk?" you question, tilting your head at him. "megumi's been drinking it every day after he comes back from school and tsumiki said she wanted to try making milkshakes."

satoru blinks at you, eyes widening before an amused chuckle escapes his lips. you're about to ask what is so funny but he gestures back down the aisle. "go get some."

he waits for you as you go grab another carton, leaning against the cart easily. when you make it back and place the extra milk in the cart, satoru slings an arm around your shoulders. you raise a brow, but he just continues to push the cart with his free hand and says nothing.

so you don't say anything either.

the two of you continue shopping, trying to remember the things you've noticed the kids enjoying because you know they'll be too uncomfortable to outrightly request them. for every sweet snack satoru puts into the cart, you add something that can pass as somewhat healthy, and he hides a teasing grin behind his fist each time.

when you're almost done, satoru motions to the shelves of snacks, raising a brow at you. "what do you need, hotshot?"

you look up from where you're analyzing the contents of the cart. "hm? oh i don't wanna buy anything for myself. i'm good with the stuff i have back at the dorm."

"great," he shrugs with a subtle shake of his head. "except you're not buying anything this time, i am. so pick something."

"what?" you frown, walking over to him. "we're supposed to split groceries for the kids."

"we can split next time." satoru rolls his eyes at you, as though annoyed by your insistence. "i just got paid yesterday and i wanna waste money. pick something."

you groan. "but there really isn't anything i want. if you're gonna pay yourself then let's just go. i think this is good enough."

satoru looks unamused, his eyes boring into yours—bright, dominating, mesmerizing. "oh really? nothing you want?"

you stare at him in confusion as he walks over to the frozen section and opens the door. after a few seconds of rummaging, he pulls out a box. "not even this?"

your shoulders drop. he's holding a tub of strawberry ice cream.

he casually places it into the cart, eyes trained on your expression as he bends down. "it's your favorite, isn't it?"

your voice comes out throaty, and you wet your lips nervously—his eyes follow the movement at lightning speed. "how'd you know?"

satoru scoffs out a haughty chuckle, reaching up to knock a knuckle at your forehead—it's cold. "i know everything about you, hotshot."

he moves to grip at the cart's handle, standing close enough that you can feel the energy radiating off of him. the side of his hand touches yours, still cold. "now we can go."

he sticks by your side, pushing the cart towards the counters as he casually looks around the store. you briefly realize that his shadow doesn't cover you when you're at his side like this. the thought both scares you and pleases you in a way you didn't think was possible.

"thanks toru," you mumble before you can stop yourself. his gives you a sidelong glance—assessing.

his lips twitch. "it's just ice cream."

"no, it's a lot more than that." you're not really sure why you say it so tragically, and satoru inhales sharply. you notice that his knuckles have turned white as he grips the cart's handles. once again, his eyes dart rapidly over your face—between your eyes and then further down.

then he lets out a hushed laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "as long as you share with me, hotshot."

everything is always changing, but satoru is constant.

you can't help but smile. "always."

you two don't say much as you head to the counter, taking turns placing all the items on the belt. you quietly watch satoru dig into his wallet, feeling oddly content doing so. you think the stars in your eyes will never disappear.

the clerk eyes you both, and suppresses a fond grin. with your close proximity, shared cart, and satoru's easy going smile, you realize that she's probably misunderstanding, but you don't really know how to correct her. satoru says nothing—he just continues smiling, oddly pleased.

he smiles all the way to the car. you catch yourself doing the same in the rear view mirror.

xv. retribution

the first thing you notice when you kneel in front of suguru is that he's bleeding all over the place. you have the strongest urge to scramble and grip his fingers tightly, just as he had done for you so many years ago—but you don't dare. you're too scared that touching him will ruin you completely.

he says your name quietly, and yet it's the loudest thing in the universe to you—crashing over your ears until you've lost all sense of self.

and then he leans forward, his gaze heavy, and his hand comes up to tangle in your hair. his palm rests on the side of your face just like it did when he visited you at your family home. the last time you saw your geto suguru.

except this time he moves further—crosses a line. presses his lips to yours.

he tastes like blood. you don't pull away.

the feeling of his lips shocks you though, and you stay permanently frozen in place as you feel your eyes glaze over with something you can't put into words.

suguru kisses you slowly, deeply, like he's been waiting but wants to savor it. maybe you've been waiting too. you're not sure. you're so confused.

you don't even process the way his tongue slips past your lips, tasting almost eagerly like your mouth is some kind of conquest he's trying to claim.

it's intrusive, but not unwelcome. slow, but not gentle.

you whimper quietly, feeling acid sting down your cheek as he pulls away and his eyes flutter open. he takes in your expression, and a million emotions pass over his face.

a quiet chuckle. "that bad, huh?"

you shake yourself out of it and try to push away the flush creeping up your neck. "w-what?"

"you're crying," he announces, his furrowed eyebrows paired with a sweet smile that makes him look so unbelievably tragic. "the kiss was that bad?"

your face burns, and you raise a shaking hand up to your cheek—it's wet.

"it wasn't—i didn't—" you struggle. "i mean—"

he smiles ruefully. "i'm sorry. you were saving it for someone special, right?"

there's a charged silence that follows as you scour your brain for the conversation he's referencing. when you find it, your heart sinks.

"you've always been special to me, suguru." your voice comes out quiet, but he hears it all the same. his eyes widen fractionally and you can see a light pink dust his cheeks before he laughs. it's soft, hushed, and looks like it's painful, but he lets it run its course.

it reminds you of a laugh from so long ago, at a beach, with childish screams echoing against the sound of waves. you think you can feel strawberry ice cream dripping down your wrist.

his laughs die down and he's left smiling softly at you. his lavender eyes sparkle with mirth as he tilts his head. "i'm glad. that you were the one i gave a room to."

you can hear waves in your ears, crashing crashing drowning. sand is in your hands, in between your toes, in your eyes.

he coughs, and his palm shakes against your cheek. you wonder why he doesn't just let go already dammit suguru.

you inhale sharply, trying so hard to breathe because what is that stupid thing that's clogging your throat and preventing you from speaking? there's so much you have to say to him. so many questions. so many things left unsaid. your words are failing you.

but silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable, right?

you raise a shaky hand to press against his where it lays against your neck. "do you regret it?"

he licks his lips, smiling faintly, as though he's enjoying the new taste of you on them. "no."

"why not?" you whisper. your body unconsciously shuffles closer to him, chasing his warmth because gods is he warm. he's always been so warm, even now, in the throes of death.

"my feelings are still the same. i still hate the monkeys for everything they've done, all the crap they cause." he shuts his eyes, smiling that serene smile. you wish he was leaning against a tree trunk. "i still have no resentment to those at jujutsu tech. and you, i still…"

he doesn't continue. you don't think you want him to. there's a flush crawling up his neck, the faint pink a stark contrast to the red of blood. it makes you nauseous.

another deep inhale, and his thumb slides over your jawbone, before brushing under your bottom lip. he stares at the flesh heavily, letting his finger press into it. his tongue swipes over his own lips, eyes darkening further.

and then something shifts in his face, and he smiles mirthlessly. his hand drops from your face—broken contact.

he doesn't tear his gaze away from you, committing your face to memory. it's almost like he wants to say something, but decides against it at the last minute as he slumps further into the wall behind him and shuts his eyes.

when he speaks again, you know that it is all over.

"you're late, satoru."

[unacknowledgeable]

Uhm, hey!

I love your serial killer reader so so much, and I just want to say that it just scratches that itch in my brain.

Though, I feel like commissioners Gordon could be a yandere of a sort. He’s obsessed with the killer and finding this person, willing to break any law to find evidence, to risk his own morals to get a clue. And if he finds out its reader???

Well, I’ll be kinda like a Hannibal and will situation, but platonic. Like, reader now has their sight on this man, curious on how he’ll play the game, and Gordon is too obsessed not to play.

Anyway, could I be 🔎? Thanks for reading!!

Oh anon, anon anon anon, big kith for you (to transfer the worms, obviously) I told myself i would take a BREAK, but you, you, I'm bouncing off the walls bc of you

Y’know I actually have a spreadsheet with all of the batfams ages? when certain events happen, motivations, etc, now I gotta add gordon too, goodness me.

I honestly haven't watched Hannibal QwQ haha, would you believe me if I said most of the media I consume is actually feel good kids cartoons….? 

BUT I have been wanting to watch it so I watched the first few episodes before replying to this, because I gotta be informed y’know? admittedly i find there's a lot of disconnect between the correlating characters, but this is a wonderful jumping off point!

ANYWAY, I have actually been trying to think of a way to give the MC more of a life outside of angst with the batfam and, well, you know, murdering people. and this? This is so fun. I think the MC would probably know Gordon through Barbara (obviously), but that's not how they met. He was there, the night your mother died, arriving on the scene to find something he had hoped he wouldn't have found again, not after the first time. A small, 8 year old child, orphaned in a single night.

 Admittedly, that's where the similarities ended.  Where Bruce lost his parents in a back alley of Gotham, you lost yours within your own home. Where two gunshots marked the Wayne couple, your mother was bludgeoned . Where Bruce had wept, blood on his shoes as he gripped his parents bodies, pleading and fighting to hold on, you sat outside, waiting for police to arrive, not a drop of blood on you. 

Getting you to answer questions was like pulling teeth, all they could gather was that your mother had sent you to bed and you later woke up to find her body in the kitchen, having already been dead for several hours. They figured it was a robbery gone wrong, which would explain the killer not knowing another person was in the house, having fled the scene as soon as possible. But that didn't explain why on earth you didn't wake up to what was obviously a loud struggle, there was simply no way. 

The blood results very quickly answered that question and sparked hundreds more. Your mother had been microdosing your food with sleeping pills, all found within the apartment under her name. Either she didn't want to deal with putting you to bed or wanted to make sure you stayed there throughout the night. The fact that you were even still conscious was kinda a miracle. Gordon seriously wished that had been the biggest surprise from those damned tests. Because it turned out his earlier comparisons with Bruce Wayne were far more accurate then he ever would have guessed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's not exactly a stretch to assume Gordan kept some kind a of contact with you after everything is settled, he’s done it before, dudes literally one of Bruce's best friends 

He sees you at charity galas a lot, and after catching you trying to sneak alcohol from one of the tables? He appoints himself as your chaperone for any galas you both happen to attend from there on out, which is quite a few of them over the years

You'd have been a lot more annoyed with him if he hadn't allowed you to ramble and talk non-stop throughout the whole event (he was a distraction, like the alcohol, at least this distraction is legal)

This continues on even when your older, when he no longer has any legal need to herd you away from the drink tables, it's just habit now, and you hate breaking habits

While your connection with Bruce can get you many places, it's your connection with the Commissioner that basically guarantees you a position in the coroner's office

yeah, they work in the coroner's office as a mortuary assistant heheheeh  

It's not really suspicious either, Gordon had been well aware of your goal for the job for many years (long before you started making the bodies yourself)

So now, not only do you have near unlimited access to all the case files the bats have on you, you also had access to what the police knew (it's mostly the same stuff, but you had to cover all your bases, god you're just like your father)

There was some sort of irony, performing autopsies on the people you killed, but you don't care to look for it, more focused on destroying any bits of evidence you can

Gordon is no stranger to giving out confidential police info, hell he has a glorified flashlight built specifically to call the bat and just hand him case files, ON TOP OF THE POLICE STATION!!

You often work similar hours, so you let him talk and talk and talk at length about how fucking weird this serial killer in particular is

Unlike with the batfam, reader literally gets a front row seat to Gordon's descent into obsession

You'd seen him with almost every other criminal case that popped up during your time spent around the police department, so you caught on pretty quickly that this was was no normal case to him anymore

He was obsessive, rattling on about the motives and habits of this killer, talking like he knew them personally (oh the ironyyyy) and at first? It weirded you the fuck out.

Not the behavior in general, but that it was essentially focused solely on you, you kept him up at night, kept him guessing, wondering when you’ll strike next, how brutal will it be, more or less than usual?

At first you're like “oh okay, ummmm…. you good buddy? I'm not sure you're all there yourself actually”

You'd just never felt so seen, at least, not by someone still living

Now, Gordon's obsession isn't based on nothing, when I said he found the way SK!reader operated weird asf, I meant it, this man is utterly baffled by it

Normally, when crime scenes are as brutal as yours, its personal, they know the person they've murdered and they hold so much rage in their heart that they can't help but try to cause as much damage to the victim as possible

These crimes also only ever happen once. Not dozens and dozens of times, committed by the same person, it is always so insanely messy that it's easy to pinpoint the who, how and why. Open and shut cases really, just another Tuesday

But when he looks closer? It feels…. Sterile, Methodical, Planned out, scripted, like hitting replay on a particularly interesting scene in a show

This? This has all the showy, over-exaggerated nature of Gotham's greatest rogues, down to the last detail, to the last drop of blood. but it's missing the rogue

It has all of the signs of an attention seeking psychopath, but none of the drive to follow through. To take your rightful credit

Normally such a passionate crime would have someone of equal magnitude behind it. The Joker and his killing Jokes, Ivy and her Eco-terrorism, Bane and his hulking demeanor, Two-face and his double standards-

The point is, there's always a show before the Finale, but with you? He only gets a glimpse at the film before the end credits roll. 

It’s like you're diverting where your real motivations lie, like this is you holding back.

 It’s driving him up a wall

 Your really not making this easy for him, ever your fathers child

Besides that, I'm gonna end this with a few interesting points I thought of that are more difficult to go into more detail rn

Reader is pretty okay with hanging out with Gordon mostly to be petty to Barbara

Of the mindset of “oh, you want my dad? Fine, your dad's mine now. Y oink-”

Later, this'll be a pretty big blow to Bruce's ego, bc like, that's his best friend, so how can he really be upset that Gordon stepped up where he failed? Won’t stop him from being mopey about it though.

It's also a hit to Alfred's as well, because how hadn't he noticed you growing so close to the commissioner? He though your pulling away from him for emotional support was just you growing up, not you looking for it elsewhere 

Gordon has also gotten the closest to finding the reader out, completely by accident

It was one of those days and he was worried about your sour mood, so he figured he’d drop by your workplace, pick you up after your shift ended, and go get take out

Safe to say, he was not expecting to find you mid brawl with some random drunk in an alley only 4 blocks away from where you worked

He stepped in immediately, to your surprise and horror, but he… he checked you for damage instead of slapping you in cuffs, made sure you were okay before calling an EMT to the location, and the only questions he had asked were “Are you okay sprout?”

You thanked your lucky stars that it was the drunk who had thrown the first swing, had instigated the fight, that the camera from the corner store across the street helped solidify that it was self defense, that Gordon had shown up just before it switched to a grizzly murder, and not during.

Another side story could also be the reader getting weirdly invested in the case about them at some point, because they realized they had a copycat killer and it really pissed them off lol

[damiansgoodgirll]

HIIIIIII I saw you're Damian and Rhea x reader that you just posted AND I HAVE A IDEA (No rush I'm just sending it so I don't forget)

OKAY SO in the same universe as the previous fic what if backstage on Monday night raw finn starts trying to convince the reader to join the new judgment day (bc he obviously still cares for the kid) like trying to get jd or Dom to guilt trip them or even getting liv Morgan to be buddy buddy since reader had trouble making friends.

But the reader STAYS LOYAL to the terror twins 🖤

running to write this because i love it, here’s part one

the judgment day x reader (platonic) , mention of drew mcintyre

‼️finn being a good manipulator lol, family issues, fear of abandonment, angst, reader feeling insecure, brief mention of suicidal thoughts (sorry it’s a little angst)

don’t break my heart - part 2

you lied if you said that you slept the night right after summerslam. no, you were in your hotel room watching the ceiling over and over, thinking of what was going to happen now. damian and rhea made sure to stay with you a few hours after the show, helping you calm down and making sure that you would eat something.

but they were tired and angry, so you perfectly understood when they waved goodbye and went to their rooms. they needed time to think and to cool off.

5 am and you were up to board on your next flight that didn’t leave until noon. you were living off on caffeine and sugar drinks but you didn’t care. you had no idea what was going to happen on monday night raw because you weren’t supposed to have any matches that night, you knew you would go with rhea and damian but you didn’t know what your future was going to be.

once you landed and you checked in into your new hotel room, you received a text from finn, saying to let him know once you arrived at the arena because he wanted to talk to you.

you drove along with rhea and damian and they both sensed your fear as you kept quiet, “you okay there?” damian asked you.

“uh?” you woke up from your trance.

“dam asked if you were okay, is everything okay y/n?” rhea added turning to face you.

“oh yes, i’m okay, just a lil nervous…” you hated lie to them, you hated lie in general but you couldn’t tell them that you were about to meet with finn. they would probably get mad at you and the last thing you wanted was to have your best friends hating on you too, so you kept it for yourself.

damian kept driving, knowing that eventually you would open up to them when you were ready.

once at the arena you waved them goodbye and went straight to your changing room. rhea told you to get ready in case something happened and if she needed your help so you did as she told you.

you texted finn and told him he could come over if he needed to talk to you so bad and not even 10 minutes later you heard a knock on the door.

“come in…” you screamed and he let himself in.

“hey…”

“hi” you couldn’t deny that the situation was awkward. you stood there for a couple of minutes before he could talk.

“listen…y/n i’m so sorry for everything that happened at summerslam” he apologized to you but you knew he wasn’t sorry at all.

“you lied to me finn…”

“and you lied to damian and rhea because i’m pretty sure they don’t know i’m here” he smirked at you and that look made you sick in the stomach.

“are you here to threaten me? are you to destroy the little family i have left? what do you want finn…i have no time for more bullshit, please” your voice sounded broken and finn hated himself for the way he treated you.

“i know…i’m so sorry for everything and you have to believe me…i’m not sorry for damian or for rhea because i got tired of being their little puppy, dominik too…but i have nothing against you, never have, never wil…i care about you y/n…don’t you remember all the things we shared? all the things we’ve went through?”

and you couldn’t lie to him. you will always remember how kind and patient and caring he has always been with you.

he was the first person you told about your past, even before telling damian and rhea. he was the one who held you while you cried when you told him about your thought of ending your life. he was the one who comforted you and made sure you never felt left out. and he was true when he said you’ve been through a lot because he was always there for you.

but so were damian and rhea so you couldn’t understand why was finn telling you all of that.

“why are you here finn?” you simply asked him, his way of bringing back memories made you feel guilty. seeing how much you depended upon someone made you realize that you probably were better alone than with someone.

“i want you to join us…”

“join who?”

“me…y/n, me, dom, jd and liv…listen, i know you and i know damian and rhea and they will leave you at some point…they are both chasing vengeance and power, they want their titles back, they won’t be with you forever and, i’m sorry to say it but they won’t take care about you forever…you saw the way rhea treated dom or the way damian treated jd…” his words were starting to impress in your head “jd kinda likes you” he chuckled “no, i’m pretty sure he has a crush on you…and listen, liv is really a friendly person, i know you don’t like her right now but i promise you, if you get to know her you will like her more…just give us a chance”

maybe he was right.

maybe you would ended up being alone one day and he was right about that damian and rhea had their own lives apart from you. hell, rhea just got married, maybe she would like to start a family one day…maybe finn was right.

finn always cared about you, he proved it many times so why were you afraid of trusting him?

“i-i…i don’t know finn…” your mind started to overthink. you were feeling overwhelmed and despite you still loved finn, despite you still caring for him, you couldn’t betray damian and rhea.

“listen i-…”

“no finn, you listen to me. how can you expect me to choose between you or them? how-how can you tear this family apart like this? because maybe for you it was nothing but for me…for me it was everything…” tears slowly falling down your face.

finn knew that it was wrong putting you in all of this mess. he knew that no matter what he still would have a space for you in his heart but the idea of choosing them instead of him made him feel useless, like somehow he failed you.

“i can’t choose between you or them because you are the ones who broke this group apart…” more tears falling from your eyes “i-i can’t finn…i can’t” and before he could say anything else, you turned to face the door and quickly left your changing room.

drew noticed you walking down the arena corridors with teary eyes and no matter how many time he called you, your mind couldn’t register any sound or noise. it felt like you couldn’t hear anything except your heart beating in your chest.

i just saw y/n crying and going towards the emergency exit of the arena. finn balor just came out of her changing room. don’t know what happened but she seems overwhelmed, she needs you.

drew texted rhea. he was pretty worried when he saw in what state you were in. he knew that even if he chased you, you probably would have just pushed him away. he knew something about your past and he knew how the other females in the roster would give you “the looks” and honestly he felt for you, he just wanted you to feel welcomed because for him, the wwe was just a big huge family. he knew that you needed time, that’s why he warned rhea.

when she read the text, she felt her heart missing a few beats.

“what?” damian asked a little concerned when he saw the look on her face.

she was still a little shocked “drew texted me…he saw finn leaving y/n’s changing room and he said that when she left she was crying…she’s probably going’s back to the hotel, he said she’s going outside”

that was all damian needed to hear before leaving rhea’s changing room and sprinting over the emergency exit. rhea following behind, making a note to thank drew later.

they both saw you sitting on the emergency stairs and slowly they both approached you.

damian sat in front of you while rhea sat next to you “hey angel…” rhea slowly turned your face towards hers “why are you crying beautiful?”

in that moment you saw it in their eyes.

they cared.

they cared like a family.

rhea was about to cry because she couldn’t stand the idea of seeing you upset.

“finn wanted to talk to me…he, well, he basically offered me a spot to join him alongside with dom, jd and liv…” you said. you feared that they would get mad but rhea’s eyes told you the opposite.

“and what did you say?” damian asked you, gently smiling at you.

“that i can’t…i can’t leave you, i can’t even look him in the eyes, it just hurts too much and i can’t have you hate on me too” you softly spoke.

damian looked at you and saw nothing but pure intentions “y/n…we could never hate you. we know how close you and finn are, and i know it hurts right now so we won’t forbid you to see him again if you want to…”

“but i can’t damian! it doesn’t feel right, it’s not right! i’m not turning my back on you, i would never do that…you guys mean so much for me and i can’t stand the idea of losing you or hate you but…but finn said some things that made me think…”

“what did he say sweetheart?” rhea gently asked.

“well, for instance, rhea you just got married…and i can’t hold you back for the rest of my life just because my head is a fucking mess, you have your life and i don’t want you to feel the need to look after me forever…same goes for you damian, i can’t depend on you for the rest of my life…”

“that’s absolute nonsense y/n” damian said and rhea agreed with him. she was mad with finn for playing those mind tricks with you, knowing exactly that your mind wasn’t in the right place and that you would get negative thoughts very easily.

“listen” damian spoke “we are a family okay? we stay together, now, tomorrow and in ten years okay? just because we have a life outside this company doesn’t mean that you’re not a part of our life outside of it okay? we stay together instead and outside…i love you like you are my own sister, fuck you could be my daughter y/n…” damian joked making you laugh.

“damian’s right” rhea held your hands “we stay together because we care about you, now and in a million years…”

“thank you for everything guys…” you smiled at both at them.

“you don’t have to thank us love…” rhea wiped some of your tears away “now, why don’t you help me getting ready uh? tonight’s gonna be a big night and i want to look perfect” she laughed making you laugh too.

“yup” you smiled and with their help you got up from the uncomfortable stairs.

rhea mentally noted to thank drew and to kick finn’s ass because he made you doubt yourself, and most importantly, he made you cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

okay so what about part 3 with reader and drew getting to know each other and developing feelings for each other and damian and rhea acting like big parents to reader?

PART 3

[kissitbttr]

how would frat!mig be in a huge argument w his girl?? idk a part of me feels like he’d be lowk immature abt it. of course he makes up to her un the end bc i cant stand angst 👎👎🧌

oh very

—

“so that’s it? you’re not even going to talk to me?” miguel stares at your moving figure, who’s hastily picking up a fresh shirt from the dryer. “never realized i’m actually dating a child” he scoffs when you don’t answer to him,

before the two of you started dating, you already knew how many girls miguel had swept off their feet. the ex-girlfriends, the jealous glares, the talking in between groups. it does brings the greatest displeasure in you to witness all of that. but miguel’s top priority is to ease your worries, and he doesn’t want to lose you over something that’s not worth to be talked about.

but the thing is, miguel sometimes forget how to set boundaries. almost like he’s not even trying anymore.

like today during practice. when you were practicing your tumblings and routines whilst miguel did his football drills. your eyes fell upon a familiar blonde girl from the volleyball team making her way towards your boyfriend.

it’s not like you don’t allow miguel to talk with other girls, you’re not as insane. letting a girl touch and feel his biceps is another story. you don’t need a damn book to know what the girl’s intentions are. obviously she was being flirty. blinking her eyes up at him, subtly biting her lip though knowing he’s taken.

the girl was previously known to be acting like a total slut. not that you’re shaming her when it really is a fact. prances herself around other guys even though their taken. you and gloria shares the same mutual dislike towards her when she had told you how the blonde kept trying to get into beck’s pants. thankfully, beck knows how to handle it.

so you waited. waited and watched at how your boyfriend would respond. instead he did nothing. nothing but a smile on his face without brushing the girl’s touch. they carried on a small talk

it broke your heart. and to some, it may sound a little bit too exaggerated but they wouldn’t know for sure until their partner was being felt up by other people and them not doing anything about it.

you were about to make your way towards the two of them, wanting nothing but to rip that girl’s hair off of him but stopping when your coach calls you to inform the practice is starting soon,

your mind wasn’t at ease for one bit during practice.

“i’m a child for wanting to communicate over what happened today? yeah, sure. talk your fucking shit, o’hara” you reply to him, rolling your eyes as you furiously toss your other belongings into a bag. “a real keeper you are”

the sound of his last name falls upon your lips doesn’t feel right to him. sure, you may have called him that in a fun manner but he knows that this time you’re actually pissed.

and miguel is not an expert at expressing his feelings and emotions. he’s got a lot to learn. the only way he knows how it to use anger and frustrations, which is something that he should control. especially when he’s talking to you.

“por el amor de dios! are you serious? we’re still on about that?! get over it, muñeca. it’s not a big of a deal!” he exclaims, removing his shirt before throwing it away on the nearest chair of his room,

“not a big of a deal?!” your tone rising as you walk out of the bathroom to see him. “you let another girl felt you up, letting her get close to you and you said that it was nothing?! are you out of your mind!”

“veronica and i were just talking! am i not allowed to talk to other girls simply because i’m dating you? that’s quite ridiculous, baby” he chuckles but there’s no humor in it, almost like he’s mocking you. receiving a baffled look from you.

“stop putting words in my mouth, that’s not what i said! you missed the part where i said you were letting another girl touching you, when you already have a girlfriend!” you point at him, trying to get him to understand but it seems like it’s no use. seeing him only roll his eyes and dismissing your words with a wave of his hand. it furthers your already broken heart to more pieces,

“fucking immature little shit” you spit, going back to zip up your bag,

he laughs loudly at that, shaking his head. “look who’s talking!” he turns around to face you. “i can’t control the people that like me, sweetheart. what am i supposed to do with that?”

“you really are entitled and narcissistic” you laugh sadly, “maybe try setting up boundaries between people especially girls? ever thought of that?”

“ever thought about not being insecure and jealous all the time? may come off handy”

and that does it. the words just pierced right through your heart, making you stop your movements all together.

never thought in your life that miguel would be the one person to say all of that to you. is that how he views you as? a insecure girl?

is it wrong that you love your boyfriend so much that you want him all to himself and for him to learn how to listen to you?

“if that’s how you feel, then maybe we should just end it here” your eyes turning glossy, trying not to break down in front of him. “if you missed being flirted by other girls or flirting back to your flings, then i am not stopping you. so instead of making me feel like shit, calling me insecure, we should just see other people”

that’s not what miguel had expected you to say. his blood runs cold, face faltering at your suggestion because that is not what he wants. not at all.

hearing what he just said to you makes him want to crawl into a hole and let himself die. he didn’t mean it! he didn’t mean what he said, he’s just grown tired of this argument that he wanted nothing but to end it. yet instead of making you feel secured and listen to you, he chooses the latter.

holy fuck, o’hara what have you done?!

“wh—n-no! muñeca, I didn’t mean what i said, i did—“ he stutters, walking closer towards you only for you to step back. “baby please i wasn’t thinking—“

“exactly! you weren’t!” you yell, picking up your bag and getting ready to walk out of his room, the frat house and his life for good. “i’m giving you, your freedom card from now on”

this can’t be it, right? fuck, no, no, no

“you’re not leaving” he says while trailing you from behind, hands shaking at mind in scrambles at the thought of you walking out of him for good. “y/n please—please don’t leave me—i’m sorry—i—i cut off every girls on campus if you want me to, just stay—please” he tries to reach out to you but your pace is quicker while walking down the stairs, ignoring the looks from some of his frat brothers,

shaking your head, you try to ignore the pain in his voice. part of you wants to hug him and tell him that you won’t be going anywhere. but part of you realize that this time, you need to put yourself first. because as much as you love him, you love yourself more,

this is going to be painful.

“that’s not what i want you to do, i just— i can’t do this, miguel. at least not now” your head shaking, voice lowering to prevent the eavesdropping ears from the kitchen. “i—i need to think, for a while. competition is coming up and exams are too—everything is just so overwhelming. i think we need a break. i think you need a break”

“a break?! I don’t need a break. i need you” his voice cracking, tears welling up in his eyes as he gathers your hands quickly and pull them into his chest. “i love you, muñeca—please—i’m so sorry—i’ll do better i promise. just stay, por favor”

his eyes are pleading at you, staring intently into your eyes as his grip tighten around your smaller hands. for just one second, you almost cave in.

almost,

you smile sadly, “just give it a week or two, okay? and we’ll see after that”

but miguel doesn’t need a week or two. he doesn’t need to see after. he knows who he wants to spend the rest of his life with. he knows who he wants to marry. he knows who he wants to have his kids with.

and it’s always going to be you, no one else.

however looking at the state of you now, miguel has no right to force you to do anything. he cares too deeply about you,

so he complies,

“o-okay” he nods and agrees with a heavy heart. “if that’s what you want—i’ll give you space, but just know that you’re the only one that i want. the only girl i want to have by my side. keep that in mind, okay?”

a small smile appears on your lips, as you reach up in your tippy toes and give him a soft kiss on his cheek before you turn around and open the door. giving him one last look and walk out of the house, carrying his heart as you do.

miguel breathes out a shaky sigh, watching the door closes. his tears are rolling down his cheeks without him realizing.

without you here right now, what else is he supposed to do?

—

don’t worry, i’ll make these two make up :)) i just think that miguel needs to be humbled rn lmao

also, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated xx

[reverie-starlight]

just some quick suna fluff bc I’ve been having strong feelings for him as of late.

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff!!!! slightly lovey-dovey. still getting used to writing him so it might feel a bit choppy but he’s fun to practice dialogue with <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“rin, quick- what colour are my eyes?”

he looks up from his phone to see you covering your eyes with one hand. in the other is your own phone, screen lit up with some paused video.

“why?”

you click your tongue and his mouth twitches. “because I want to see how well you know me, obviously.”

he raises an eyebrow at that. “do you really think after all these years I don’t know your eye colour?”

“just go with it!” you plead, and then continue with a “please, rin?”

with all the confidence in the world and zero hesitation, he says “pink.”

the speed at which your hand comes down to hit the bed you’re both sitting on forces a sly grin onto his pretty face. your face is priceless and your eyes are as stunning as ever. it makes his heart skip a beat.

“I swear-“

you look completely done with him, so obviously this means he can’t help but mess with you some more. he puts on a bewildered expression acts like he’s surprised.

“no, seriously, I think you have pink eye or something, babe. I thought you knew already.”

you blink and the annoyed look on your face turns into worry. he watches you switch to the camera app and examine your eyes. “RIN!”

he can’t help but snicker and beckon you over to cuddle into his side. you do, despite being cross with him, and he soothes you with a kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry baby, it was too easy. of course I know the colour of your eyes.”

you roll them and nod a bit, sulking.

he blinks and tries to figure out what’s happening in front of him before realizing there‘s probably something else going on. he thinks back to the paused video he saw on your screen earlier and recalls that it was one of those street interviews that tests couples.

he’s seen them, of course, and has always made fun of the guys who don’t even know the most basic shit about their partners.

and then something clicks in his brain. are you scared he’s like them? you should know by now that he’s not, but he knows that sometimes doubt and insecurity creep in against your will, so he holds you tighter and flicks your forehead.

“I know you like the back of my hand, eye colour included. I’m always paying attention to you, even when you don’t realize it.”

you nod again, but you don’t look completely convinced yet. he scratches his chin as he thinks some more of how to make you feel better.

plan A is to flirt, because as much as you deny it, he knows you secretly like the attention and compliments he gives you.

he tilts your chin up to look at him and smiles a little, examining your eyes. “yup, still the prettiest shade I’ve ever seen. I never get tired of looking into them.”

you can’t hold the eye contact for long (you never can and he absolutely adores it) and gently pry his hand off so you can turn away.

“stoppp,” you say in a voice that makes it clear to him you don’t mean it.

because he knows you and all of your cues and he’ll spend every day proving it to you if he needs to.

“getting shy on me? you were so fiery earlier, what happened?”

you knock your forehead against his shoulder. “shut up.” there’s a smile in your voice now and he doesn’t even need to look at you to confirm that fact.

“nah, I’ll keep going. I hate to say it ‘cause you need to be humbled sometimes, but you’re, like, really hot or whatever.”

your head shoots up and you gape at him. “I need to be humbled?” there’s the hint of a laugh at the end of your sentence and he just shrugs.

“hey, I’m not the one who gets off on messing with their partner.”

you gasp and do let out a laugh this time, hitting his shoulder. “yes you are, you dick!”

and you allow the slander because you know suna, too. this is his way of acknowledging that you’re upset, not bringing it up and bringing you out of that state without being dismissive. he always knows exactly what you need and how to make it better.

after a few more minutes of back and forth, you’re giggling into his chest and he’s just smiling up at the ceiling while rubbing your back. a familiar warm feeling settles in his heart.

“better?” he asks.

you sigh happily against him and he feels you nod.

“good, because plan B was pretending to fall off the bed and hoping you laugh.” he’s half joking, but if it really comes down to it, he knows he’d bend over backwards to see you happy.

you snort, but you feel fuzzy at his words. you seem to realize the same thing going through his mind in that moment.

“thank you.”

he’s not sure if you’re thanking him for cheering you up or for simply knowing you, but his response covers both meanings anyway.

“my pleasure.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

he’s insufferable and I love him and this kinda sucks but in my defence I wrote it last night in like twenty-five minutes.

@dira333 here’s your tag!!!

[sulumuns-dootah]

Can I request a headcanon of wbh kings reacting to a gn mc who's a actress/actor and watching a horror killer movie mc played in (mc is the final person to die)

WHB kings w/ MC acting in horror movie

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Hi! Sorry for the wait, Fall is always kinda rough on my mental health U.U

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

When you told Satan that you're in a horror movie, he was super excited

Certified horror movie enjoyer right there

Oh and when he found out you were on the poster of it?

Suddenly it's all over Gehenna and many screenings are scheduled in pretty much all the cinemas

Before, however, it is shown anywhere publicly, Satan wants to watch it with you alone

During the movie he'd joke that he's expecting your character to be one of the first ones to die since it's a rule that hot characters die first

But then he realizes there's only about 20 minutes of the movie left and your character is still alive

Maybe you're one of those final survivors who don't die?

Nope :)

Just as the final credits start to roll in, the killer jumpscares the audience by surprise lounging at your character and kills them as the credits roll list all the names of everyone who took part in the production

       ༺☆༻

Similar to Satan's reaction, but Mammon only has a screening in a handful of cinemas of his choosing

Obviously,as the star you are, the screening also has a meet and greet with you included

Bimet was the one to organise everything, so you can imagine how expensive the tickets are

Mammon will also want a private screening before letting anyone else watch it

And since for example Texas Chainsaw Massacre did it: If there's a scene with your ass all over the screen, Mammon will be obsessed and make it his personality for the next century :)

Now, getting back to the end of the movie and seeing your way too suden death, you sneak a peek at Mammon to see his reaction and he, to be fair, looks unmoved

But then you notice him being more clingy than usual

When you ask him about it, he'll give you, honestly, the best answer:

"Seeing you die made me realise I don't ever want to loose you in reality"

       ༺☆༻

Exact opposite

Nobody except for you and him are allowed to watch it

Now, Levi will be happy to tell everyone that his partner is an actor/actress in movies, but will never say which ones

What's it to them? They can't appreciate your presence on screen correctly

The next thing you know they'll be making fan edits and write fanfics about you and either the killer or some random self-insert instead of Leviathan - your ACTUAL partner

The movie will kinda become shadow banned in Hades bc the people will fear their king will find out they watched it and hang them to death for it

The only one to openly talk about it is Glasyalabolas bc of course

He's hoping he can catch some other demons while they pretend to not know what he's talking about despite secretly watching it

(Oof, I can even imagine: You know how are those videos like 'Top 5 movies you shouldn't watch'? Your movie will be every no.1 on those lists :D)

       ༺☆༻

When you told Beel about your new found stardom, he tried acting surprised but you both knew his act was bad

He knew even before you knew and accepted the offer from the casting director

And you could swear you think he was there during the shoot

Or at least you thought you saw him for a flash by the catering table, moments before someone started raising all hell because someone ate all the pizza again

So when you suggest a movie night with your movie, he already has some stuff prepared at some secret location

Maybe he might even send some pics of you cosying together to Bael just to piss him off

       ༺☆༻

Belphegor just to happened to be half-awake when you came excitedly running to his room

He had half the mind to just fall back asleep, but then you started talking about some movie you were in, so he decided to give you at least some of his time

"Oh, and you want me to watch it now or...?"

Sure, you can join him in bed and watch it with him, but he can't promise he'll stay awake the whole time

Maybe only until your character dies, because after that you won't mind, right?

Oh boy, did he not know...

To be fair, he does watch the whole movie until then, but might not be awake long enough for him to give a review of your performance

       ༺☆༻

"Oh, you're in a movie, my pretty little bitch? Sure, let's watch it."

You know where this leads to...

By the time the first kill happens you're already folded in half, taking Asmo in and screaming louder than the poor victim in the movie

But Asmo actually is interested in your character, so whenever you're on screen, he slows down and shushes you so that he can hear the other you

By the time your character dies, you've already cume multiple times and are about ready to pass out just like in the movie

After the movie's over, Asmo will actually give you a good review and ideas on what to work on (including your stamina ;))

       ༺☆༻

You didn't even get to be the one to tell Lucifer

Of course Gamigin had to accidentally let it slip while begging Lucifer to partake with the rest of demons in a movie night

You wanted to surprise Luci by putting the movie on and seeing if him or any other demon catches on to recognise the bad-ass final girl/guy as you

After that Luci hears you scolding Gamigin for the slip up so he decides to act like he didn't know you'll be in the movie

He's not really convincing, but it's the thought that counts, right?

After the movie's finished, you anxiously ask everyone for the opinion

Everyone has nice things to say, except for the SFX team and the many inaccuracies they noticed

But... Luci is silent

At least until everyone's gone to bed for the night

After that he'll have you sit on his lap and whisper so much praise into your ear

[cassiebones]

I don't think Agatha willingly gave up her son and here's why:

Her reaction to the Darkhold in the cradle was visceral, okay? I just reblogged the post that even says that's not the reaction of a woman who willingly gives up her child. So I don't think she did.

What I think is that Nicholas got sick. Like really, really sick. So sick that there was no way he was going to get better. Maybe Rio was warning her about it. Maybe Rio was trying to set the expectation that hey, Nicholas isn't going to get better, you should prepare yourself for that, but Agatha ignored it. Agatha figured that she's in a relationship with Death, herself, so there's no way that her son is going to die and be taken away from her. But Rio keeps reminding her "I don't want to do this, but it's my job. I can't chose not to."

And Agatha gets desperate. As she's watching her baby boy get sicker and weaker. I'm not totally sure how old he was when he died. I'm imagining him as a baby or toddler. A size that Agatha can still hold in her arms. Maybe he won't eat anymore and it worries her. And she knows that the only way to make him better, the only chance at keeping her son, is by getting her hands on the Darkhold. Dark magic is the only thing that can keep him with her, alive.

Rio, obviously, advises against this. Dark magic is trouble and Agatha will not be the same if she does this. Agatha ignores her. She makes a coven and forces Rio down The Road with her, begging her to help save her son. Rio, loving Agatha so deeply, agrees, and they set off down the Witches' Road.

The other three witches obviously don't make it, as we know. The other witch who survives (of course bc she cannot die) is Rio. Agatha acquires the Darkhold and rushes back to her son's side.

But she's too late. Nicholas is gone. He died while she was on the road. He was alone in his last moments, probably in his bassinet. Agatha missed it in her ambition to get her hands on the Darkhold. She probably will never forgive herself for it.

Rio felt the second he died, but probably didn't tell Agatha because there was nothing they could have done at that point.

Agatha is resolute, though. She starts looking for a resurrection spell for Nicholas, which Rio panics about because that is not what Agatha wants, she tells her. Nicholas won't come back right. He will never truly be alive. He will be a corpse, reanimated. His soul is already departing.

"Not if you don't let it," Agatha says, because Rio is in charge of reaping the souls, of ferrying them to the afterlife. She's Death, after all.

"It doesn't work like that," Rio says, softly and apologetically, reaching out to stroke Agatha's cheek. Agatha slaps her hand away and continues to frantically search through the book, but Rio can't let this happen. Nicholas would never be right. He wouldn't be the boy Agatha--that both of them love. Never again.

So she reaps his soul, takes it away before Agatha can start her spell. Agatha begs her to stop, to let her have her son, to not do this please.

"If you love me, you won't take him away from me," she says, desperate and angry and so, so hurt.

Rio doesn't look back. She's holding Nicholas's soul in her arms, cradling him because he's 100% her son, too. Her baby. She holds him more tightly.

"I'm doing this because I love you," she says, without looking back. She keeps walking while Agatha wails behind her, Rio fighting back tears as she listens to her wife's heart break.

Rio tries to return after reaping her son's soul, wants to apologize and beg at Agatha's feet for forgiveness...but she's not there.

Before, Rio could have found Agatha anywhere. She always knew where she was, like a homing beacon on her heart. But now Agatha is just...gone. The home they once shared together is completely empty, not a soul or piece of furniture in side. Except for Nicholas's bassinet, empty. She can't feel Agatha anymore. She doesn't know if she's alive or dead, but she's pretty sure she knows why.

The Darkhold. Agatha used a spell in the Darkhold to shroud herself from Death, to keep Rio from finding her again. Grief echoes in Rio's heart at the loss of the two most important people in her life. Then anger begins to burn low in her stomach.

Anger at her job. Anger at the Darkhold. Anger at Agatha. Murderous rage takes root in her chest, where her heart used to beat for Agatha Harkness and their son. Both are gone now.

But she will find Agatha. One day. And she is going to kill her...or make her wish she were dead. Either will suffice at this point.

[littlespoonevan]

Princess Diaries 2 au!

not me already cheating askdjfhsa so i actually have the first chapter of this fic written but i never got any further than that so i never posted it. but!!! that means you are in luck bc i can offer you 3.5k almost immediately lmao

i had a lot of fun rereading this though so hopefully this might give me some motivation to keep going with it 🤞✨

-

“You want to do what?”

Buck’s parents regard him with identical disdainful looks. It’d almost be intimidating if he wasn’t on the receiving end of looks like that from both of them at least once a day.

“Evan, this doesn’t concern you,” his mother sighs.

“Like hell it doesn’t!” he exclaims, looking wildly between his parents and his sister. “Aren’t you forgetting what happened the last time you tried to stick Maddie in an arranged marriage-“

“Evan,” Maddie cuts in, voice gentle but firm enough for Buck to deflate. The smile she offers him is resigned. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not alright,” he protests weakly.

“Maddie understands the responsibilities she has as our daughter,” his father says, the, you don’t, heavily implied.

“Regardless, she’s far too old to be concerning herself with something as trivial as a love match,” his mother scoffs and Maddie’s mouth tightens into a thin line.

His parents love to bring up that Maddie is in her late thirties and still single. As if the whole reason for that isn’t because the last person they set up her up with tried to kill her – a trauma from which she’s obviously still recovering. Buck’s not about to let it happen again, not on his watch.

“Do you understand what a match like this could do for our family?” Margaret continues. Buck’s never understood his parents’ obsession with titles and social climbing. He would’ve figured still being a viscount and viscountess would be enough for anyone when, y’know, no one gives a shit about the monarchy nowadays.

“Besides, lord knows the Diazes would be indebted to us for even agreeing to it,” Philip adds with a derisive snort.

“I’ve heard Prince Edmundo is very pleasant,” Maddie offers, clearly trying to placate Buck and possibly trying to convince herself also. She’s putting on a brave face but Buck knows she’s nervous after Doug. It’s been years but Maddie still jumps at shadows.

Buck rolls his eyes. He may never have met him before but Buck has heard the scandal surrounding Prince Edmundo. He fell in love with a commoner and tried to marry her but his parents refused the match. Then, four years ago, a child was left at the palace gates with a letter addressed to Prince Edmundo. Apparently before they were forced apart Edmundo had gotten her pregnant and she was no longer in a position to take care of the child. Within hours, the whole world knew.

The Diazes had hired an entire new security team after that.

Buck hasn’t heard much since but he does know the potential marriage King Ramon and Queen Helena had been arranging for Edmundo completely fell through with the reveal of the child and he hasn’t publicly dated anyone since.

So now they’re here: a proposed match between Maddie and Edmundo so Edmundo can ascend the throne in the fall like he’s supposed to.

 “I still don’t like it,” Buck mutters.

“How about a compromise?” Maddie suggests then. “We have a trial period.

“I personally have no desire to get married to a stranger – I would, at least, like to know the man’s favourite food or his hobbies – so why don’t we see if Prince Edmundo would be agreeable to my coming to stay at the palace? Six months. A proper courtship. And, if anything untoward happens or I suspect something isn’t right, the union is ended.”

Their parents share a look, conversing only with their eyes and pinched mouths. Eventually their father looks back to them. “If the Diazes agree, then fine. But Maddie, you are running out of time. If Prince Edmundo doesn’t marry you then you can’t protest whoever else we choose. You’ve put it off long enough.”

Buck wants to protest but he knows this isn’t his fight. He’ll get his turn whenever they decide to turn his attention to him. He watches Maddie take a measured breath and is, once again, in awe of his sister’s ability to keep her composure. He can never do that. He always feels too much.

She looks their parents dead in the eye and nods. “I understand.”

“I’ll write to Helena then,” Margaret sighs.

~

“I don’t like it.”

Eddie just about refrains from rolling his eyes. He suspects the hand he has braced against his temple is just about the only thing preventing his parents from seeing the exasperation on his face.

“It sounds perfectly reasonable to me,” Eddie says and his mother clucks her tongue.

“Of course it does, Eddie. You’re just looking for a way to get out of this.”

“No, I’m not,” he exhales. He’s long since given up on trying to get out of this marriage. Any hope he had of marrying for love ended when his parents forced him to kick Shannon to the curb. Christopher arriving on his doorstep a few years ago left that hope buried six feet beneath the ground.

Truthfully, he doesn’t care anymore. His priority is Christopher now. He doesn’t need romantic love; all he needs is a political match with someone who will, at best, be decent to his son or, at worst, ignore Eddie and Christopher except for public appearances.  

He understands Maddie’s reticence though.

“Maddie’s last fiancé tried to murder her, Mother,” Eddie points out. “She doesn’t know me. Of course she’d be hesitant to marry immediately.”

“Philip and Margaret never mentioned this when we were making the arrangements though,” his father cuts in and Eddie does roll his eyes this time.

“They probably hadn’t told her yet,” he says. “Really, I don’t mind.” If anything, six months in which his parents fixate on someone else besides him sounds like a dream come true.

His parents whisper to each other but Eddie doesn’t bother trying to listen in. Instead he glances out the window to where Chimney is training in their new security hire, Ravi. The kid looks fresh out of high school and like he spooks way too easily but Eddie still wishes he was out there with them. Or in the playroom with Carla and Christopher.

Or anywhere that isn’t here.

“Fine,” Helena says, snapping him back into reality. “We’ll allow it. But you are to be on your best behaviour, Eddie. Do you understand how difficult it was for us to find you a match after your indiscretions-“

“You mean my son?”

His mother huffs. “You know we love Christopher. But people talk and you must admit your actions with that woman were completely reckless. Just like always.”

Eddie ducks his head, fists clenching in frustration. “Mom, it’s been nearly ten years since I last even saw Shannon. I was a kid. I was stupid. But I’m not going to apologise for it. Not when it gave me my son.”

“Don’t speak to your mother like that,” Ramon commands but then he folds, just slightly, and rubs at his forehead. “This is a good thing, Edmundo. It’s almost time for you to ascend the throne. It is your turn to honour this family; try to see that.”

Eddie doesn’t think there’s a single word in the English language he hates more than honour. Rolling his shoulders, he lowers his gaze and nods in acquiescence.

~

Eddie spends the rest of the day preparing for the Buckleys’ arrival with Hen, taking the chance to duck away to his room when she gets a phone call. She scowls at him and flaps her hand in a gesture that clearly indicates she doesn’t want him to go anywhere but he pretends not to understand and gets out of reach before she can grab him.

She’s confirmed Maddie’s brother, Evan, will be coming with her as well as Maddie’s personal security guard, Athena Grant. Eddie wasn’t aware the children of viscounts needed their own security detail but he guesses for Maddie it might be an extra precaution.

He’s heard the story, of course. How she and her previous husband had beaten the odds. Arranged marriages were common in their world but one that was also a love match was all but unheard of for people like them.

But Maddie and her fiancé, Doug, had seemed like the real thing. Their lavish wedding had been the talk of royal enthusiasts everywhere – the only people who actually pay attention to high society weddings. Then, a little over a year ago, Maddie was brutally attacked and almost killed.

Her husband had been the culprit.

And if Eddie’s sources are to be believed, Doug had been beating her the entire time they were together. Honestly, Eddie’s surprised she even agreed to the match. Though, if her parents are anything like his own, he doubts she had any say in the matter.

It makes him feel only the tiniest bit better about his own situation.

Losing Shannon is a pain that still aches deep inside of him but at least he’d loved her and she’d loved him back. And if nothing else, she’d given him Christopher, the most precious gift of Eddie’s life.

With him and Maddie…well. He doesn’t think they’ll fall in love but maybe they can be friends. After all, isn’t that what marriage is? Companionship? Eddie’s had love now; he knows what it felt like. Once is more than enough for him. He can be grateful for that – it’s more than most people get in his line of work.

A knock at his open door rouses him from his reverie and he looks up to find his abuela standing at the threshold, a mischievous sort of smile on her face.

“Abuela,” he says warmly.

“I hear we have visitors coming?” she says, crossing into his room and coming to rest at the chaise longue near his writing desk.

“I’m pretty sure Mom’s arranging a car as we speak,” he says, flashing a fake smile.

Abuela hums, regarding him with an appraising look as if she’s trying to read everything he’s not saying in the set of his shoulders or the slant of his eyebrows. She’s always been far too perceptive when it comes to him.

“How are you really feeling, Eddito?” she asks. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Eddie hangs his head, letting out a weary sigh, before coming to sit beside her. “Do I have much of a choice?”

“You always have a choice,” she tuts. “Don’t let your parents make you think you don’t.”

“I always knew what my life would be. This isn’t some cruel twist of fate handed down by the universe. It’s my duty – to my family, to this kingdom.”

“And what about your duty to yourself?” she asks quietly and Eddie looks away.

He takes a moment to rally himself before he can manage to smile at her again. “I’ve gotten everything I want from life already. Christopher is enough. I don’t need anything else.”

Abuela watches him with something that could be pity on anyone else. From her, it’s just an overwhelming sense of empathy and love. She reaches out to pat his cheek and Eddie marvels – as he always does – at the way the casual affection he shares with her and his aunt never comes as easily with his parents.

“Protect yourself, Eddie,” she murmurs, a quiet request. “Please. For me. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He swallows, emotion he doesn’t expect clogging his throat. “You had an arranged marriage. So did Mom and Dad. I’ll be fine,” he promises, lifting a hand to cover Abuela’s with his own where it still rests on his cheek.

“I know,” she says, smiling in a way that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “And I was very happy with your abuelo. But you, mi ángel, have always dreamed of love. I want that for you.”

Tears burn behind his eyes but he blinks them away and forces a bright smile onto his face.

“I’m sure the Maddie will be a perfectly good match.”

It sounds like a lie even to himself.

~

Buck yanks at his tie for the sixth time since they got out of the car and Maddie slaps his hand away.

“Relax,” she mutters. “I feel like you’re more nervous than I am.”

He lets his hand drop with a sigh, shooting Athena a winning grin when she casts them both a sidelong glance. She rolls her eyes before turning back to talking to the Diaz chief of staff, Bobby Nash, as they make their way up the steps of the palace. Henrietta Wilson, who is Bobby’s second in command and evidently personally responsible for Prince Edmundo, keeps pace with him and Maddie.

“How are you feeling?” he asks under his breath and Maddie gives him an exasperated smile.

“I’m fine,” she insists, reaching out to latch onto his pinkie finger with her own and giving it a quick squeeze. “You don’t need to worry.”

“I can’t help it,” he mutters.

Up until now Buck has been able to pretend this is all some farcical plan or- or a vacation for him and Maddie! But now they’re here and they’re about to have a formal introduction with the royal family and it suddenly feels real. Maddie’s getting married. Courtship or not, that’s the end goal in all this and she’s not going to be able to say no unless Buck can find a legitimate reason why.

And maybe it’s not Prince Edmundo’s fault and maybe he’s just as helpless in all of this as Maddie is but Buck’s still ready to hate him on sight.

This whole thing feels wrong, out of place. Maddie shouldn’t have to get married again if she doesn’t want to. And she sure as hell shouldn’t have to marry someone just to satisfy their parents’ need for social climbing. It’s not fair. She’s been through enough and he can’t believe their parents are willing to put her through another potential trauma by forcing her into an arranged marriage.

Well, not if Buck has anything to say about it.

He’s older now than he was when she and Doug first met and he’s determined to do whatever it takes to protect her. He even convinced his parents to let him be Maddie and Prince Edmundo’s chaperone during their courtship. (Not in an official capacity but still.)

It’s not much but if it lets him keep Maddie’s safe, it’s worth it.

They reach the main entryway and Buck grinds to an abrupt halt, just stopping short of barrelling straight into Athena. She gives him a look like she knows that’s exactly what he was about to do and he ducks his head, chagrined.

Henrietta clears her throat, clearly attempting to bite back a smirk when Buck looks up at her. “Ready?”

She’s talking to Maddie but Buck still has to tamp down on the urge to say no.

“Of course,” Maddie breathes and the doors open.

One of the other staff members introduces them. Buck hears it just as they step inside.

“Presenting the honourable Madeleine Buckley and her brother, Evan Buckley.”

The royal family are waiting by the staircase for them, their expressions ranging from eager to cordial.

And well. Prince Edmundo is exceedingly handsome, he’ll give him that.

He’s tall, though not quite as tall as Buck, dressed in formal attire with his hair swept back off his face in a way that looks seemingly effortless – unlike the fifteen minutes Buck spends in front of the mirror in the morning trying to make his curls sit just right. His tanned skin and big brown eyes, coupled with the affable smile make him seem…

Charming. He is, quite frankly, the fairy-tale definition of a Prince Charming and Buck feels himself seethe with something that’s not quite jealousy but maybe somewhere adjacent to that.

Prince Edmundo steps forward and, for the first time, Buck notices the little boy behind him. That must be his son, Christopher. He’s got crutches under his arms to keep him steady and one of the Diaz’s staff stands beside him – a kindly looking woman that keeps her hand protectively on his shoulder.

“Miss Buckley,” Prince Edmundo greets, stepping forward to take Maddie’s hand. He presses a faint kiss to the back of it and Buck bites the inside of his cheek so hard he’s pretty sure he draws blood. “It’s an honour to meet you.”

“And you as well, your highness,” Maddie replies, offering up a curtsy and a careful smile. And if nothing else, Buck will admit the smile Prince Edmundo offers in response seems more sincere than Doug’s ever was.

He turns to Buck then, extending a hand to shake.

“Your highness,” Buck greets before Prince Edmundo gets a chance to, giving his hand a too-tight shake and finishing it off with a half-assed smile.

Prince Edmundo raises an eyebrow but decorum wins out above anything else. “Mr Buckley,” he returns, his own hand tightening for a moment around Buck’s. If Buck didn’t know any better he’d almost think he was amused.

Queen Helena interrupts then, gliding forward to take Maddie’s hand. “Madeleine. It’s so lovely to finally meet you.”

Maddie bows again, greeting the queen with a, “Your majesty,” that betrays none of the unease she might be feeling. One thing’s for sure, their parents trained her well.

“Welcome to our home,” King Ramon adds, coming to stand beside his wife and offering Maddie a greeting of his own.

They greet Buck and Athena next, completely pleasant and completely perfunctory. Their focus is on Maddie and that’s abundantly clear. Well, that’s fine with Buck. It’ll make it a hell of a lot easier for him to poke holes in this whole match if no one’s paying attention to him.

“We hope your journey was pleasant?” Helena says, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“It was very comfortable,” Maddie assures. “It was so generous of you to send a car.”

“It was our pleasure,” Helena says then and she looks like she means it. “Well, we’d love to stay and chat a bit more but I’m afraid the king and I have a very important meeting we must attend to.”

“The work never stops,” Ramon jokes. “Eddie will show you to your living quarters and we’ll see you at dinner tonight.”

With that, they take their leave and Buck lets out the breath he’s been holding this entire time.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Prince Edmundo does the same. But then he turns to them with a beatific smile and gestures to the staircase.

“You must be tired after your journey. I can show you to your rooms and give you some time to get settled?”

The car ride had only been a couple of hours but Buck’s not gonna complain. Standing on ceremony is exhausting.

“Thank you, Prince Edmundo,” Maddie says because Buck might’ve used up all his manners by now but she clearly hasn’t. “That’s very kind of you.”

For the first time, there’s something almost awkward in the prince’s demeanour. Buck doesn’t understand what it is until he says, “Please, call me Eddie. I don’t see any reason why we should have to stick to formalities if we’re going to be getting to know each other as we are over the next few months.”

Maddie’s shoulders drop where she stands beside him and Buck is begrudgingly impressed Prince Edmundo – Eddie – has managed to put his sister at ease.

“In that case, please call me Maddie,” she says. “I don’t need any titles. And Evan-“

“Goes by Buck,” he cuts in, flashing Eddie a closed-lip smile.

“Buck,” Eddie repeats, as if testing the name out.

Buck hates that he actually likes how it sounds coming from him.

“I’ll remember that,” Eddie says before glancing over his shoulder. “And um, if we’re still making introductions, I’d like you to meet our chaperone.”

He steps aside and Buck watches as the little boy takes three tentative steps forward to stand at his father’s side. Eddie immediately crouches down to his level once he does, wrapping a comforting arm around him and Buck hates his own traitorous heart for melting a little at the sight. “This is my son, Christopher.”

“Hi, Christopher,” Maddie says, voice warm and welcoming, as she holds out a hand for him to shake. She always was amazing with kids. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

Christopher takes her hand after a moment’s hesitation and stutters out a soft, “Miss Buckley,” that has Buck biting his lip so he can maintain his composure.

Why did Eddie have to have such a cute kid?

“You don’t have to call me that,” Maddie says with a chuckle. “You can just call me Maddie if you like.”

Christopher nods and lets go of her hand and then Maddie is reaching back for Buck. “This is my brother, Evan.”

Buck huffs at his given name but obediently steps forward, crouching down in the same manner Eddie had to get on Christopher’s level.

“My friends call me Buck,” he tells Christopher with a wink, offering him a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Christopher.”

“Nice to meet you too, Buck,” Christopher says with a bashful smile as he fits his tiny hand in Buck’s to shake it.

Eddie clears his throat and there’s something inscrutable in his expression when Buck looks at him. “How about we show you to your room?”

~