#instead of somehow developing or learning something

[cerastes]

See, the thing is that a development of true AI -- not predictive machine learning that has been branded as AI -- would be really amazing, so we can have not only advanced medical processes like cancer detection software (which is a thing that exists), but also mundane things like AI that does your dishes and laundry, that way I have a lot more free time to do art, instead chuds made something misnamed as AI that very poorly does art and that they are bending over backwards to try and monetize somehow*.

*The specific "somehow" is cutting wages by getting rid of as many people as they can that they need to pay by trying to make misnamed AI that attempts to do what we already can do, but very poorly.

[randomness-is-my-order]

jiang cheng time travel au but make it return by death (re:zero) style (time loop with a set checkpoint) wherein he is killed five years after wei wuxian’s death after one of the demonic cultivators he tortures to death curses him in return and he dies and goes all the way back to when wei wuxian rescued the wen remnants and has just started living in the burial mounds. but jiang cheng is extremely hateful towards wei wuxian, still too lost in his grief from his previous life and has undergone zero development and healing and so he pounces at this opportunity to prevent zixuan and yanli’s deaths by doubling down on his opposition of wei wuxian, projecting his five-plus years of boiling resentment into this already sensitive situation from canon. he pushes wei wuxian harder, is even more prejudiced against the wens, is even more rigid in his opinions. still just as easily manipulated by the sect leaders and incapable of viewing things rationally. this results in an even bigger fallout between him and wei wuxian and this time jiang cheng pushes the sects to rally against wei wuxian even faster before the qiongqi path ambush can take place. the siege is pushed up, wei wuxian and the wens are caught off-guard, jiang yanli and zixuan are horrified at what’s going on, lan wangji stands up for wei wuxian like in canon but this time it’s even less effective because jiang cheng, the only person to have seen the people occupying the burial mounds, is relentless in his efforts to persecute them and wei wuxian. this time, a fight of a much greater magnitude takes place in the burial mounds (the nightless city massacre doesn’t happen) and wei wuxian fights with all he’s got but in the end, he and the wens all die and guess what? jiang cheng dies with them–caught in the collateral.

he wakes up, back to the same checkpoint as before. wei wuxian is in the burial mounds with the wens and now, he has to figure out a way to kill wei wuxian and the wens without him dying along. he goes through some more iterations of this, trying to get rid of wwx before the “main” tragedies can happen and by the fifth or sixth trial, he’s so fucking exhausted with himself. he can’t understand what he’s doing wrong, where he’s lacking. so, this time, he decides to simply convince wei wuxian to give up the wens once more. this is back his canon actions, just with added hatred for wwx which is still carried over–just worn out now. wei wuxian refuses, reminds him of his debts to the wens, and it’s back to square one. he’s missing something, he doesn’t know what, but brute forcing his way didn’t work, massacring people didn’t work and now he needs to do something different. he goes to yanli and asks her how he can convince wei wuxian and yanli, ofc, tells him that that is impossible. wei wuxian won’t budge. the wens’ lives are important to him. he’s doing the right thing.

and at this point, jiang cheng needs to reckon with the fact that his violence hasn’t solved one issue, has only caused more problems, has only exacerbated the wounds. if there is something that needs to be fixed, it has to start with his own self. all these lives of hatred that dictated his actions have to catch up to him, there has to be some guilt that is finally sparking after each life he spent betraying wei wuxian from the get-go, spearheading the siege without ever listening to wei wuxian or his opinions and forcing his will to make things better, the way he saw fit.

after this, his focus would shift to making wei wuxian give up the “demonic” path instead of making him give up the wens. it would take some more tries but i see jiang cheng actually learning something from all the lives he wasted and somehow learning about the golden core after going through the grating process of actually talking to wei wuxian without being a massive prick. in some lives, he gets to talk to yanli some more, in some others, wen qing rips him a new one and collectively, he begins to have a slow shift in perspective. and wei wuxian, being wei wuxian, is even able to offer him some empathy for all the memories he carries from his past lives.

idk how this would end. if jiang cheng would earnestly apologise and come to realise all of his wrongdoings and finally provide political support to wei wuxian–by speaking up when lan wangji and mianmian do (which would still not solve the issue, but it would be a start). or if return by death ends at some point and he is reverted back to his original circumstances, just this time with the full understanding of why he messed up and that he can’t live on with such a resentful mindset anymore.

see, i’m not against a jiang cheng redemption fic but it needs to feel very very earned and the impetus has to be about jiang cheng taking accountability in a major way. and i also LOVE time travel au in other fandoms but in mdzs i think sometimes it can come across as... oh, wei wuxian could have just done this one thing and everything would be fine, he wasn’t smart/strong/capable enough and that doesn’t work for me. so for jiang cheng to realise just how difficult it is to save two people and to realise the lengths wei wuxian would go to protect the wens and to have him take all these lives to finally gets some semblance of a better result than canon–and only when he can respect wei wuxian’s cause and join him in finding a solution rather than singlehandedly wandwaving the complex net of issues away–is very very appealing.

[selliho6530]

And so, ladies and gentlemens, now you will read how many times I went to the bathroom to wash my hands and face, for no reason:

(i'm going to miss the morning because I was at school)

1 - 12:28

2- 12:50

3- 13:21

4- 13:29

5- 13:42

6- 13:50

7- 14:17

8- 14:19

9- 14:34

10- 16:13

11- 16:36

12- 16:42

13- 16:49

14- 16:59

15- 17:20

16- 17:37

17- 17:53

18- 18:21

19- 18:23

20- 18:45

21- 18:54

22- 19:18

23- 19:20

24- 19:33

25- 19:43

26- 20:12

27- 20:59

[fishofthewoods]

I see a lot of people clowning on the people of Pelican Town for not repairing the community center themselves or clowning on Lewis for embezzling and. like. Those criticisms aren't entirely unfair. But I think instead of coming at it from a perspective of "why can't the townspeople do this" we should be asking "why and how can the farmer do this?"

Like. Think about it. The farmer arrives in Stardew Valley on the first day of spring. By the first day they're obviously different. By day five the spirits of the forest who haven't been seen by the townsfolk in years or generations are speaking to them. By the second week they've developed a rapport with the wizard that lives outside town.

In the spring they go foraging and find more than even Linus, who's spent so many years learning the ways of the valley. Maybe he knows, when he sees them walking back home. Maybe he looks at them and understands that they're different, chosen somehow.

In the summer they fish in the lakes and the ocean for hours on end, catching fish that even Willy's only ever heard of, fish that he thought were the stuff of legend. They pull up giants from the deep and mutated monstrosities from the sewers.

In the fall, their crops grow incredibly immense; pumpkins twice as tall as a person, big enough that someone could live inside. The farmer cuts it down with an axe without even batting an eye. Does Lewis wonder, when he checks the collection bin that night and finds it full to the brim with pumpkin flesh? What does he think? Does he even leave the money? Does he have the funds to pay the farmer millions of dollars for the massive amounts of wine they sell? Or is it someone--something--else entirely?

In the winter, the farmer delves into the mines. No one in Pelican Town has been down there in decades. No one in living memory has been to the bottom. The farmer gets there within the season. They return to the surface with stories of dwarven ruins and shadow people, stories they only tell to Vincent and Jas, whose retellings will be dismissed by the adults as flights of fancy. People walking by the entrance to the mines sometimes hear the farmer in there, speaking in a language no one can understand. Something speaks back.

The farmer speaks to the the wizard. They speak to the spirit of a bear inside a centuries-old stone. They speak to the shadow people and the dwarves, ancient enemies, and they try to mend the rift. They speak to the Junimos, ancient spirits of the forest and the river and the mountain. They taste the nectar of the stardrops and speak to the valley itself. They change Pelican Town, and they change the valley. Things are waking up.

And what does Evelyn think? She's the oldest person in the valley; she was here when the farmer's grandfather was young. (How old *is* she, anyway? She never seems to age. She doesn't remember the year she was born.) Does she see the farmer and think of their grandfather? Does she try to remember if he was like this too, strange and wild and given the gifts of the forest?

And does their grandfather haunt the valley? He haunts the farm, still there even after his death; his body died somewhere else, but his spirit could never stay away for long. Does Abigail, using her ouija board on a stormy night, almost drop the planchette when she realizes it's moving on its own? Does Shane, walking to work long before anyone else leaves their house, catch glimpses of a wispy figure floating through the town? Does the farmer know their grandfather came back to the place they both love so much?

Mr. Qi takes interest in the farmer. He's different, too; in a different way, maybe, but the principles are the same. They're both exceptional, and no matter what Qi says about it being hard work and dedication, they both know the truth: the world bends around the both of them, changing to fit their needs. Most people aren't visited by fairies or witches. Most people don't have meteorites crash in their yard. Most people couldn't chop down trees all day without a break or speak to bears and mice and frogs.

The farmer is different. The rules of the world don't work for them the way they work for everyone else. The farmer goes fishing and finds the stuff of fairy tales. The farmer goes mining and fights shadow beasts and flying snakes. The farmer looks at paths the townspeople walk every day and finds buried in the dirt relics of lost civilizations.

The farmer is a violent, irrepressible miracle, chosen by the valley and destined to return to it someday. Even if they'd never received the letter, they would've come home.

They always come home eventually.

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[ifyoucandaniel]

favorite fics of 2024/basically just batfam fic rec list

It's that time of year guys, here is my favorite fics of 2024 in no specific order (aka my master batman fic rec list bc that's all i read this year with some spider-man thrown in there lmao). most of these have been in my previous rec lists, but this is just like one big frankenstein’s monster of a fic rec with all of them in one place <3

starting off strong, anything @bluelotuswrites's hands have touched is pure gold. Red is the Color of Sinners placed post UTRH where after being hit by bruce's batarang and now mute, jason decides to leave gotham and go to hell’s kitchen for a fresh start, but he keeps running into daredevil both in and out of costume. this is possibly the best jason of all time i rotate him in my mind like a microwave all day

The Hellblazer's Apprentice is an all blades jason fic where instead of continuing his lost days world tour, he meets john constentine and decides to learn magic to piss of bruce. blue added some lore to jason’s character in this that to this day makes my brain vibrate with excitement and the dynamic between john and jason is just ?? so good. both of these fics haunt me, they follow me wherever i go, i love them. read everything she's written, trust me

going with the theme of my favorite authors i read this year, @cdelphiki wrote my favorite read of the year and possibly all time Life Happens a fic that hit me like a sucker punch where tim and damian are both sent to a different dimension where everyone they know are comic book characters. with no other choice, they have to start a new life in this world while they wait for rescue. words just dont do it justice, please please read this fic. it’s the most beautiful story on growing and life

their other fic Jason and the Three Terrors crosses my mind at least once a day if not three times. jason is still with the league when talia charges him with getting damian, his cousin mara, and his secret sister athanasia to bruce safely from ra's. the rest of the fic is jason going from "i cant wait to get rid of these kids" to "these are my kids, i need to provide for them and keep them safe and i would die for them" 100/10 jason's character development is some of my favorite in any fic.

The Time Before is another of my favorites where jason is sent back in time to when he was 9 and goes to bruce for help and realizes maybe his memories of bruce maybe aren't all accurate. just read everything cdelphiki has ever written, trust me <3

Split by @wolfsbanesparks i have never been hooked on a character i previously did not know much about faster than when i read this fic. Billy and shazam are forcefully separated into separate bodies by black adam and then they have to try to keep billy's identity secret somehow while working with the justice league to fix them. the end of this fic had me sending paragraphs and 5 minute voice notes to my friends, trying to explain why i was so absolutely distraught and obsessed.

also by wolfsbanesparks, From the Shadows is basically everything you could ever want from a billy batson joins the batfam fic. it's got plot, it's got identity shenanigans, it's got badass magical billy, what more could you possibly need! seriously idk what is up with everything wolfbanesparks writes, but the endings are always so fucking good, 100/10.

Something in the Static by @bonerot19 is one of my favorite jason series ever, i go back to it constantly and think about it all the time. this is a series where jason's mom doesn't die and his dad isn't in prison, instead he's 17 working nights at a convenience store when everything changes and suddenly batman won't leave him alone. this is my favorite jason & steph best friends fic ever and the way this fic is paced scratches an itch in my brain, the flow of the story is just perfect

Buy Back the Secrets by @vinelark is the only ship fic on here and it deserves a place of honor. every time i get an email that it's updated an angel gets it's wings and my friends all get texts in all caps. Timkon fic where kon still doesn’t know tim’s civilian identity, but tim keeps calling for superboy when he's in trouble which leads to kon meeting him as a civilian. the identity shenanigans are just so top tier, its a 5 + 1 fic so every chapter is just just a new world of fun tropes. the chapter with tim's fake uncle and jason is actually probably my favorite chapter of a fic ever its so dear to me. as far as i'm concerned, this fic is the only timkon ever <3

Honoring Promises by LananiA3O is the shortest fic on this list and is the most important jason & dick post UTRH fics i've ever read. this fic both scratched an itch and created an itch because i need 100 more chapters and for it to never end. set post UTRH when dick starts to rethink his opinion on a note jason left him and realizes it was jason reaching out and decides to find him and fix things. this goes up there with RITCOS in the post UTRH fics where jason decides to just fuck off and do his own thing, i love them

Adopting a New Plan by A_Silly_Gander is yet another fic where jason winds up with an adoption problem when he first comes back to gotham. however, my favorite part of this whole fic is how the author writes jason making mistakes and being flawed and how those mistakes affect him. absolutely 10/10 character development and jason rejoining the batfam + damian and jaosn meeting in the LOA tag is just a mixture of all my favorite things, i love this fic so much

A Collision of Masks by MOVAZ is my favorite dick grayson fic ever, its set in a young justice AU where batman never joined the JL and YJ never met dick, so when the YJ team is sent to investigate a new vigilante, nightwing, identity shenanigans ensue. this is seriously such a fun fic, i loved all the crossover between dick's many identities and the YJ team

Cards on the Table by @wesslan is just!!! so fun oh my god. the chapter titles are to this day my favorite things ever they enhance the experience. it’s about tim being a scam fortune teller who knows a lot more than he should about the upper class due to his nighttime stalking. he winds up meeting the batfam and giving some scarily accurate advice which leads to him being tied up in their business and lots of lying <3 it’s such a fun fic and i just love the vibes 100/10

Hand in Unloveable Hand (a chokehold) by @a-large-orange-cat is by far my favorite fucked up tim fic! while tim’s out taking pictures of batman and robin as a kid he gets kidnapped by black mask and raised to take over his crime empire. cue 50k of manipulation and angst, the ending is so satisfying and the sequel with jason always makes me :’) very good, this tim lives in my mind in a little house he and jason built

Dark Matter by @mysterycyclone because would it be a fic rec without the loml? i love this fic so much oh my god, it sent me back on my spiderman obsessed bullshit which in turn led me back down my marvel bs. post infinity war peter is dusted and wakes up in the DC universe with the ghosts of the dusted avengers following him. i love this fic so much, nothing compares to this peter in my mind. the dynamic between him and the batfam + the identity angst is just so well done

keeping up with the peter theme, The Teenage Vigilante's Guide to Saving New York (And Making Friends Along the Way) by candlesneedflame is such a good team red/mentor matt fic oh my god. where peter goes against tony’s wishes and starts hanging out with daredevil and his friends and maybe starts getting mentored by new york’s vigilantes. 10/10 i love peter interacting with the other vigilantes and also matt mentoring him

anyways, that’s all folks! 2024 was the year for the DC and marvel fics clearly and hopefully 2025 will be the year of me binding all of these finally and having them sitting pretty on my shelf <3

[kannouo]

Cold hands/feet

fandom: obey me pairing: demon bros & dateables x gn!reader warnings: none prompt by anon: stumbled upon your blog and just read your hcs about the obey me guys and halloween, your writing is lovely and fun<3 ! i was thinking, how do you think the obey me bros + dateables would react with a mc whose hands and feet get easily cold? like 'dawg who let this corpse out the morgue ����' typa cold. and even if they wear socks or gloves, it never seems to help much. instead, it turns into cold sweat so now it just feels like touching a defrosting chicken (projecting on this one) anyways, hope you're having a lovely day/night. enjoy your next 24 hours :] A/N: ty for the request and the kind words <33 this was funny to write for as i actually have the opposite problem myself, i run really warm. some of these are considerably shorter than others, sorry.

LUCIFER

• Lucifer isn't a very touchy person. That and he usually wears gloves, so he'll take a much longer time to notice how cold your hands get than you might expect. The first time he notices would have to be when you initiate affection yourself, and he's in the right mood to just sit back and let you touch him.

• You're sat facing him on his lap and move your hand up to gently caress his face. It was just meant to be a sweet gesture, and it certainly wasn't anything to provoke him to jerk his head away in momentary surprise.

• "Lucifer?" You say his name, a little concerned at his reaction. He was just staring at your hands.

• "You're freezing," he stated, then met your eyes again. "Is the fireplace not warm enough for you?"

• Until you explain it's just naturally how your hands feel, he will assume that the House of Lamentation is somehow still too cold for a human, and that you, for some reason, neglected to tell him this whole time. Even when he understands the situation, he's still likely to bump up the temperature on the thermostat just in case.

• You might have felt hurt by his initial reaction to literally move away from your touch, but he reassures you he was just surprised. He doesn't actually mind it, he just wasn't sure if that was how human hands were supposed to feel.

• That, and Lucifer runs cold too. Even colder than you. You're unlikely to notice early in your relationship due to the gloves, but he perpetually feels like he's been out in the cold for far too long. You ask if it's "a demon thing" and he gives you a strange look.

• For all I've said about him not minding, do not put your cold ass feet on him if you're in bed together. You'll lose your Lucifer's bed privileges until you can prove to him you've learned from your actions and promise not to do it again.

It's a surprisingly peaceful evening in the House of Lamentation. You sit with your DDD in hand in front of the fireplace, mindlessly scrolling through your socials when you suddenly feel something freezing touch the back of your neck. You lurch forward in shock, rubbing the afflicted area as you spin your head around to catch the culprit. There stands Lucifer, a pleased smirk on his face as he casually fits his glove back on his right hand. "Lucifer!" In a split-second decision, you jump up from the couch and begin to chase after him, hand outstretched. If it's a war he wants, then it's a war he'll get.

MAMMON

• Notices pretty early on. If he still hadn't developed feelings for you by the time he noticed, he'd likely react a little too dramatically and make some sort of comment about how your hands feel like ice and will threaten you not to touch him again.

• He deeply regrets that choice of words later on though. Even if you are cold enough to make a weirdly convincing dead body, that doesn't mean he wants your affection and attention any less, but it's not like he'll tell you that straight up. He'll try to get you to start touching him again with vague (or what he thinks are vague) hints and just hope you catch on and give him what he wants.

• If you don't, he'll frustrated eventually. Will literally grab your hands and place them on his face so you're cupping his cheeks, grumbling the whole time about how stupid you are and how he has to do everything for you.

• "I thought you didn't want me to touch you again." You smile, running your fingers through his hair. He sputtered.

• "W—well, that—" He huffed and bit the inside of his cheek, shooting you a half-hearted glare. "—Whatever! That was a long time ago. Things change! And— I mean, I'm sure you've been wantin' to touch me this whole time, right? I'm just... bein' considerate."

• It's best not to call his bluff. He'll get embarrassed and pouty.

• Like Lucifer, is also lowkey concerned for your health, and isn't sure if it's normal or okay for humans to be so freezing all the time. He'll still complain all the same when the thermostat is turned up and tries his best to find a workaround, like buying you fuzzy socks and gloves to keep you warm instead so the temperature can go back down.

• Obviously, this doesn't work and just makes your hands and feet cold and sweaty. He concedes that he'll just have to deal with it.

• A perfect target for pranks using this. Suddenly shove your hands up his shirt or place your feet on his bare legs. He has such dramatic and whiny reactions but ultimately won't do anything about it — denying you affection is far more of a punishment for him than it is for you.

You sit, confused, as Mammon holds both of your hands in his. He cups them together and breathes into them, then rubs them against each other like you would do to keep yourself warm in a freezing climate. The only problem is, you're in a room with several functioning heaters. "...What are you doing?" You finally ask. He glances up at you, then goes right back to what he was doing. "I'm tryin' to help you," he says. "This'll warm ya right up, won't it? Then Lucifer can turn the thermostat back down. I'm basically boilin' alive in here!" That definitely isn't how this technique works, but... he seems too determined to stop now.

LEVIATHAN

• Same.

• Levi's hands are usually pretty clammy, but they're also always cold. If Lucifer's hands are "been outside for too long" cold, then Levi's are "freezing death-grip" cold. He doesn't even really notice it, as the rest of his body runs equally as chilly.

• It's an understatement to say Levi isn't all that into touch. It makes him extremely nervous, and the most he'll ever be able to muster without panicking internally is resting his head on your shoulder or intertwining your pinkie fingers together. Because of that, he either takes a very long time to realise or just doesn't at all.

• It's also pretty difficult for him to discern how cold your hands are when they're against his skin, which is just as frigid.

• He's unlikely to notice on his own. He'd only really figure it out if one of his brothers made a comment about your hands being freezing cold that he happened to overhear. Afterwards, he'd ask you if it was true, and would just nod and be like "huh" when you explain. Overall he doesn't care, because he can't even tell.

• Since you don't run cold in the same way he does, it still startles you whenever he puts an unexpected hand on your shoulder. It'll take some time for him to believe you when you say you only react like that because of the shock, and at first he ends up feeling bad and locking himself in his room whenever you jump away from his touch.

"Levi..." You frown, kneeling down in front of the Avatar of Envy, who is curled up and hiding his face from you. "You just surprised me, that's all..." You really hadn't intended to upset him. He tapped you on the arm to get your attention and the sudden chill made you flinch a little, that's all. But he seems to have taken it in the worst possible way. "N—no, I get it..." Levi says with that same defeated tone you were so used to from his self-deprecating monologues. "O—of course you wouldn't want to be touched by an ugly, yucky otaku like me..." "Levi, come on..."

SATAN

• Satan realised by pure chance. In the library together, you walked alongside him as he chattered away about any books he thought you might enjoy. Pulling one out from the nearest shelf, he handed it to you, telling you to read the blurb and tell him what you thought. You unintentionally brushed your hand against his as you did so.

• He didn't react immediately, waiting for you to finish skimming over the back of the book. Only then did he bring it up. "Are you cold?"

• Confused, you replied. "What?"

• "Your hands feel cold," he said. "If you are, I could lend you my jacket? I don't want you getting sick."

• As tempting and sweet as that offer was, you shook your head and explained your hands were just like that. To that, he nodded his head, apologised for assuming anything, and then proceeded to insist you take his jacket anyway. It's a romantic fantasy of his.

• He absolutely tries to buy you gloves, thicker socks and/or shoes. He's confused but understanding when you say they don't really work, and honestly doesn't mind as long as you reassure him the coldness of your hands and feet doesn't really bother you. He just doesn't want your hands to be achy and stiff all the time.

• Otherwise, he doesn't mind it. He'll hold your hand, kiss the back of your palm and allow you to be affectionate with him all the same. He might try to encourage you to shove your hands up Lucifer's shirt though. Just once.

• Don't do it to him though. Demon form instantly.

• Surprisingly, Satan usually doesn't care much about feeling your cold feet on him if you're cuddling together either, but it might irritate him if he feels it in the middle of the night when he's too tired to be fully logical.

"Satan, there's no way I'm doing that," you say as you stare down the demon in front of you, unimpressed. "He'll kill me." "He'd kill me, not you." You roll your eyes as you realise Satan clearly isn't giving up on trying to convince you to 'prank' Lucifer by shoving your hands up his shirt. With the amount of layers the first-born has, you aren't even sure if you'd be able to if you tried. "...If you do it, I'll take you to that cat cafe you liked." You eye him suspiciously. "...The one with Luna?" "The one with Luna."

ASMODEUS

• Asmo runs pretty warm. He has to, with how he spends hours out clubbing in the cold climate of the Devildom wearing as close to nothing as he can possibly get without being accused of public indecency. So you being cold to the touch is a bit of a shock to him.

• He had been begging you to let him do your nails all day until you finally caved. But just as he took your hand in his, he hesitated. "Darling, you're freezing. Why is that? My windows are all closed."

• "Oh... no, my hands are always like that."

• He pouted. "Poor thing. Well, once I'm done with your nails, how about you spend the rest of the day holding hands with dear old Asmo, hm? That should warm you right up! ♡"

• Insist all you want that it doesn't bother you or that you can't even feel it, he'll just act like he doesn't hear so he can continue to use it as an excuse to be all over you.

• It actually isn't that bad though. Being naturally warm, pressing your hold hands against his skin actually feels super nice, and he's always the one initiating it. He's impossible to scare by randomly putting your hands on him, too. He'll just react with a smile and a dirty comment.

• He'll buy or fashion fingerless gloves for you to try in the hopes it might be a little less suffocating than ones that cover your whole hand. They do work a little better, but you may or may not find them uncomfortable depending on your preferences.

• He keeps asking you to touch his back because he likes how your cold fingers feel against his skin, but only do so if you're prepared for him to let out a very exaggerated moan to embarrass you. Can and will do that shit in public.

You lean against Asmo, one hand under his shirt and resting against his side and the other clasped in his own. Every now and again he ducks his head down to place a kiss against your knuckles before resting his head back on your shoulder. The quiet added to the rare peaceful and serene moment, but just as you let your body relax... "Asmo!" You snatch your hand away when you felt him start to move your wrist further down his body. He giggles as you shove at his shoulder. "Honestly! You're insatiable! I'm leaving!" "No, no! Baby I'm sorryyy!~"

BEELZEBUB

• When Beel feels your cold hands brush up against him for the first time, he doesn't even ask questions in the moment. He straight-up drops his jacket on you right away and apologises when you nearly tumble to the ground from the weight of it.

• Beel is another one who will be very concerned. From what he's heard, humans emit natural body heat, and he's only ever heard humans be described as "cold to the touch" when they've been out in bad weather for too long or if they're dead. And he knows for a fact you've been inside all day, so... Are you dying, MC?

• He tries to believe you when you say it's natural and nothing to be so worried about, but he just can't help it. His hands are calloused and rough from centuries of playing sports, so he's hardly bothered by the chill of yours and will just hold them whenever he can to try and "warm you up".

• Is convinced that eating warm food and drinking hot beverages will help. Even if you don't actually feel cold, he might still insist you drink the hot chocolate because he's uneasy.

• He's overprotective by nature. If you can get him to loosen up and stop fretting, he'll apologise for having worried so much. He doesn't want you to be annoyed with him for overreacting about something you're so used to and consider totally normal.

• Is totally fine with you placing your hands or feet on him. He doesn't even react most of the time. You're convinced he can't feel it.

"Beel, honestly, I'm fine..." "But..." He glances between you and the cup of tea in his hands. He can't look at the drink for too long though, or he starts to feel the urge to chug it himself. He can't do that — it's supposed to be for you. "Please? A hot drink is always best on a cold day." "We're in a heatwave..." You sigh, unable to argue any further. Giving in, you take the cup from his hands. "Fine, I'll drink it. But I'm telling you, there really is nothing wrong."

BELPHEGOR

• To be blunt, he isn't a fan.

• He's been right on the cusp of falling asleep only to be startled awake by your freezing hands and feet touching him as you crawl into bed way too many times. He isn't against you cuddling him completely — you're still a good cuddle-buddy, in a "cold side of the pillow" way — but he would like you to keep your hands above his clothes and your feet to yourself. Thanks.

• Aside from Mammon, he's also likely to complain about the thermostat temperature being turned up by Lucifer, which in turn causes Beel to complain on his behalf. He keeps waking up after long naps all sweaty and hot... eugh.

• On the bright side, him being too warm means he'll suddenly switch up on your cold hands. Suddenly, he loves the feeling of them against his skin, and needs you by his side to cool him down while he sleeps.

• Joins Satan in encouraging you to shove your hands up Lucifer's shirt. Do it. Just once. Unfortunately for Satan however, Belphie is a little traitor, and will also go behind his back to tell you to do it to him right after.

• A complete hypocrite. If you pull the same stunt on him he'll make the most exaggerated pouting face you've ever seen and go complain to Beel about you. If you look at him while he's doing so, he'll give you a shit-eating smirk when Beel isn't looking.

• Gets you matching fuzzy socks. He knows they don't really work in keeping your feet warm throughout the day, but asks you to at least keep them on when you two cuddle, so you can match with him and he can avoid any rude awakenings.

The fourth-born had been absent for not five seconds when Belphie scoots over on the couch to whisper in your ear. "When Satan comes back," he pauses, stifling a yawn. "Shove your hands up his shirt. Like you're going to do to Lucifer." You give him a look. "Why would I do that?— And I never agreed to do it to Lucifer." "It'll be funny," he grins lazily. "Look, he's coming back. If you don't do it, I'll grab your wrists and do it for you, you know..."

DIAVOLO

• Diavolo doesn't just run warm, he runs hot. Almost uncomfortably so. Never expect to be able to cuddle with this guy without getting sweaty.

• When he first feels your cold hands, he either assumes humans are just naturally so frigid or goes the Lucifer route and does everything he can to increase the temperature of RAD and the palace to prevent you from being so cold. After one absolutely sweltering day at RAD, you asked Diavolo what was going on and why it was suddenly so blisteringly hot.

• "I raised the temperature as much as I could to make it more comfortable for you!" He flashed you a big, proud smile. "Come now, let me feel your hands. It should be better for you now, yes?"

• "Ah... why are they still cold?"

• He means well, really, but he's very confused. He becomes more understanding once it's explained to him and thankfully turns the temperature back down. You swore all of your classmates were seconds away from murdering one another just from the humidity alone.

• It's not like you have the guts to do it anyway — and if you did, Barbatos would stop you — but in case you were curious, he also doesn't react to the feeling of you suddenly putting your hands on him. Like Asmo, he actually thinks the chill of your fingers is quite nice.

• He might offer to hold your hands in his whenever you're sat next to him because he's fully aware of how warm he is in comparison to you. It warms you up and feels pretty good.

RAD student council meetings are usually quite dull. Unless they were in preparation for some kind of event, in which case you could expect the opposite problem — all the brothers would be bickering amongst themselves so loudly that it felt like all the energy had been drained out of you by the time you returned home. Today, however, was on the quiet end of things, and you were just waiting for it to be over. You sit next to Diavolo, cheek resting on your hand as you idly tap the table with the eraser end of your pencil. "MC." He nudges you a little. Your head shoots up, momentarily afraid he had realised you were zoning out, but he meets you with a smile and offers you his hand. Wordlessly, you place your free hand in his and he gently clasps his fist around it. Student council meetings are dull, but at least you have Diavolo to share little moments like these with.

BARBATOS

• Another man with gloves here. He knew about your cold hands from listening to the others or observing the jokes you'd play on them using it, but he's unlikely to have any personal experiences with them until much later.

• He honestly doesn't care that much. However, if you feel your hands starting to ache or go stiff, he'll hold them in his own and breathe into them to warm them up. Either that or he'll give you his own gloves for a period of time. They're already warm from him using them, so it's actually pretty nice.

• Is one of the only demons to be reasonable about it. Everybody thank Barbatos.

• Won't interfere with you suddenly putting your hands on anyone or shoving your hands up their shirt, unless it's Diavolo, obviously. He thinks their reactions are amusing. It isn't even worth trying to do to him though, he's impossible to catch off-guard. That, and his hands are also pretty cold, so he can and will do it right back.

• Encourages you to do it to Solomon and will protect you from the sorcerer's wrath afterwards.

• Not to repeat myself, but once you two further your relationship a little more, you'll discover he also quite likes the feeling of your hands on him. He isn't one to show it physically, but he'll let you know how pleasant he finds it if he's in an affectionate mood.

• Not a very cuddly person — mostly because he just never has time for it — but on the rare instance you two cuddle, he won't care much about you placing your feet on him but will pretend like he's mad about it to tease you. He'll get up and refuse to return until you literally beg for forgiveness, at which point he smiles and tells you he never truly minded, but since you asked so nicely he'll come back to the couch with you.

Spotting Barbatos in the kitchen completely focused on his baking would usually be a sign to leave him alone as to not distract him. But for you? No, it was the perfect opportunity to strike. He didn't look up as you enter the kitchen and sneak up behind him, and just when you think you may finally have the upper hand— —He grabs your wrists before you can land your hands on his skin and meets you with a smile. "Ah, MC." You pout, but he isn't moved. "How nice of you to join. Since you clearly aren't up to anything important, how about you lend a hand by fetching me some ingredients?" ...Mission failed.

SIMEON

• I have to imagine that Simeon knows a little more about the human body than most of the demons. So when he holds your hand for the first time, his first thought isn't "they could be hypothermic," it's just "oh, they have cold hands."

• He honestly doesn't mind or even really say anything about it. The most he'll do is lend you his coat on a colder day and tell you to hide your hands inside the sleeves to keep them warm — but then he's just left in that revealing body-suit thing he has, so he gets freezing instead.

• Simeon is a pretty affectionate person, so if you try to stop yourself from directly touching him too much because you know your hands are freezing, he won't be pleased.

• He places your hands back on his face, tilting his head to plant a kiss on your palm. "How much will it take to convince you I enjoy your touch?"

• To be honest, that's a pretty dangerous question to leave entirely up to you, but do what you will with it.

• You know how his shoulders and hips are completely bare for some reason? If you walk up behind him and trace a finger along his shoulder or just grab onto his hips, he jumps and does this cute shiver. He won't scold you for it, but he does get embarrassed and quiet if you do it in front of other people.

"Simeon?" You tap the back of his head. It's still early in the morning, yes, but you have to get up soon. Lucifer would have your head if you two miss a day of RAD, but your angel seems particularly sleepy this morning, as nothing seems to be waking him at all. He was the last person you would expect to have this sort of problem with... "Simeon..." You lower your hand and place your palm on his shoulder, watching him shudder from the cold. "Get up." Finally, you see him blink. He looks up at you, a yawn on his lips as he speaks. "Good morning..."

SOLOMON

• He has a spell for that.

• No, I'm serious, he does.

• It's up to you whether or not you trust this mystery concoction he gives you and tells you to drink because it will, somehow, make your body run warmer. He reassures you it's supposed to be a dark purple. It's nothing to worry about. Believe me.

• For the sake of these headcanons, I'm going to assume you have any sense of self-preservation and don't take drinks from strange wizards.

• Solomon's hands are very cold as well, but he insists they used to be warm when he was younger. You think, perhaps it's symbolic of him slowly leaving his humanity behind as the centuries go on? Either way, you both are menaces.

• If the brothers thought you were bad with shoving your hands up their shirt, wait until Solomon gets in the mix. He'll use magic to somehow enhance the freezing cold of his hands and make them shriek because it's so cold it stings. At least they love you enough to let you get away with it, though. I cannot say the same about Solomon.

• He's banned from the House of Lamentation because he had the bright idea of trying to do it to Lucifer. Any chance of making a pact with him is thrown out the window. Good job.

• It's a bad idea to try doing it to Solomon for the sole reason he will not stop until he gets his revenge — and like I said, he'll make his hands so freezing they hurt to have against your skin. Your best bet is to go to Barbatos for protection because, again, he thinks it's amusing, and his millennium-long grudge on Solomon has still not fully dissipated.

"...What happened?" You blink up at the sorcerer in front of you, who is dangling upside-down from a tree just outside the House of Lamentation. From the ropes hanging him there by his legs, you guess it must have been Lucifer's doing. He gives you a sheepish smile. "Well, since you were hesitant to do Satan and Belphie's prank on Lucifer..." Your eyes widen as you realise what he's talking about. Surely he didn't— "So, I did it instead." "..." "My lovely apprentice will let me down, won't you? Ah— w-wait, hold on! Don't leave me here!"

[ofapesandmen]

Oda Headcanons [sfw/nsfw]

—★ Oda/Reader

First Meeting

if you're an Ape... your first meeting was very normal, you're be a member of the Clan after all and he knows you by name. You naturally would've been close without much effort. And, naturally, you developed a crush on the warrior.

if you're a Human... your first meeting was intense to say the least. Sightings of Echoes near the village had put Oda on high alert and he would've been riding through the territory looking for any signs of pests. And that's when he found you. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, or perhaps it was the crippling loneliness, but you found yourself strangely attracted to him.

Courting

if you're an Ape... it honestly happened almost on accident. You didn't mean to give him any signs you were interested since Oda never seemed interested in you—or anyone, for that matter. But you couldn't help it. It started off as small things, showing casual interest in what he was up to, spending more time with him, talking to him while he remained his usual quiet self. And it eventually escalated to sharing your food with him, foraging for his favourite fruit, helping him around the village in any way you could. He got the hint quickly but rather than confront you about it he lets you continue your oblivious courting of him—mostly because he finds it amusing and cute. But he was also uncertain if you truly meant it. Oda was by no means past his prime, quite the opposite, but you were still way above his game. Younger, faster, quick-witted... and beautiful. He did not want you to waste it on him.

if you're a Human... courting isn't really a thing humans do. Perhaps once it was but old traditions had quickly died. Instead, you struggled with your feelings towards Oda for weeks. An uncomfortable knot growing ever tighter in your stomach every time you were near him. Yes, he scared you and almost killed you when you first met—but he had also saved you from certain death. He was no friend to Echoes but you were different... you were like Ape, and you had been injured. The way he had put his prejudices aside to help you had struck a cord in you. Selflessness was rare these days. Even more so, you were surprised he came to check up on you as you were healing. It was an unexpected gesture but one you appreciated—and one which did not help your conflicted feelings. Little did you know Oda was puzzled by a wave of similar emotions. He was not one to catch fancy easily, it took something special to make him fall. He wouldn't say this was falling but he was tiptoeing on the edge of a slippery cliff. He was... curious.

Mated Pair

if you're an Ape... it had been the happiest day of your life when Oda had asked you to be his mate. As was tradition, he signalled the end of the courting period by presenting you with gifts—a hare he had hunted himself and a new band for your arm, one that matched his. It had been the most romantic evening, beyond perfect. You spend an entire month planning your wedding ceremony together. You didn't think it was possible to fall for him even harder but once you saw him on your wedding day, dressed up in feathers and pelts, his paint cascading down his body—you were awestruck.

If you're a Human... becoming mates with Oda was a confusing experience. You had a huge culture gap you were desperately trying to close by learning and understanding the Apes. Your courting period had already been a big mess of feelings and insecurities and now you had to somehow pretend you understood what it means to be mates? It was obvious the word meant a lot more to the Apes than it did to you—married, would be the closest Human word for it. But humans did not practice marriage anymore—hadn't for a 100 years or more. It was as foreign to you as any Ape custom. And yet Oda has asked you to marry him. He made it clear he wanted you to spend the rest of your life with the Clan, with him. And to you that meant more than any words, Ape or Human, could describe.

Oda as a Lover

—★ sfw

if you're an Ape... there are things that come to you as simple instinct. Grooming each other, nesting together, using Ape Sign to communicate... they are all intrinsic, everyday things. Comfortable and familiar. Safe.

if you're a human... it's a bit more complicated. Oda had to explain and teach you basically everything about Apes, their language, their culture, everything. Including how Apes showed affection. You quite liked it... the forehead touches. You liked being so close to him. It felt intimate in a way you didn't know was possible.

whether Ape or Human... Oda is a perceptive and attentive mate/lover. He'll notice the small changes in your mood almost instantly and he can tell if you're trying to hide something from him—whether he'll confront you about either depends on if he's worried for your health and safety. He knows you're a strong individual and trusts you to come to him if there's something bothering you but he will intervene if he feels he must. (if you haven't been eating lately, have started isolating yourself, other telltale signs of mental stress. you're strong but no one should handle those things alone)

Oda will always take you into consideration and will always be thinking of you. He'll notify you if he's due for a hunt or patrol on any given day. He won't ask you if you'd come with him, rather he'll leave it open and let you decide for yourself. He's like that with you when it comes to anything, really. He lets you know what's happening in a casual way and let's you think on it.

That being said, Oda isn't good at talking about his feelings. He's very blunt and honest but it takes a while for him to open up about himself, even with people he's comfortable with. He's always thinking of others rather than himself. He would sacrifice himself for you a thousand times over to prove his love for you, but saying it outloud? impossible.

That isn't to say he never expresses his love for you in words. He'll ask if you've eaten, slept well, etc. He calls you 'Rabbit' because of that cute thing you do with your nose when you're thinking. When you're in his nest together and he thinks you're asleep he can't help but get sentimental. He'll talk at you, sweet nothings, his feelings and thoughts, how glad he is to have you. He may be the strongest and bravest of the Eagle Clan but with you... he feels inadequate. Afraid. Undeserving of you.

Actions are his love language. He'll regularly get you things you like—fruit, nuts, flowers, feathers. He'll also be close to you as often as possible—when eating, riding on his horse, or sleeping together...

—★ nsfw

if you're an Ape... he is ON you as often as possible. On your wedding night there was only ome thing on his mind—claiming you. Body and soul, become one. You'll tease him sometimes, glance at him over your shoulder, brush up against him just enough for the tips of your furs to touch. His bristles along his shoulders. It's a back and forth with the two of you. The tiniest of unspoken signals amd signs. And once you're alone he'll mount you, teeth nipping at your nape, a growl vibrating in his chest.

if you're a Human... he is very unsure of the how with you. At first he kept a respectful distance when it came to his sexual desires. He also doesn't want to scare you off or make you uncomfortable. Sex with an Echo was unheard of—even outright disgusting to think of. But you were different. He knew that, the others knew that. But he couldn't—and wouldn't—assume that meant you'd want to bed him. He gave you the reigns but you for the longest time hadn't even realised you were holding them.

whether Ape or Human... oh boy you're in for a ride. Oda is an experienced lover, he experimented a lot in his youth and he was quite popular among the females (and a few males as well). Although, he hasn't had a mate in a long time it doesn't hinder his performance—if anything, now he wants to prove he's anything but lost his vigour.

For him sex hasn't truly begun until he's made you cum once or twice with his mouth and fingers. He loves to pleasure you and does so any chance you'll let him. He loves to make you cum over and over again until you're crying from ecstasy.

Even when he's fucking you, he's focused on your pleasure. You'll always be his priority—not that he won't indulge in his own pleasures every once in a while...

His favourite foreplay is to chase you down in the woods, tracking you, stalking you like prey. Oda is the best hunter in the Clan, even when you think you've given him the slip he's always two moves ahead. The next thing you know you're hanging upside down, caught in a trap, and Oda is walking towards you, the faintest smirk playing at his lips. "Caught you, Rabbit."

Oda was made for stamina and brute strength. He can go a few rounds without a break, although, he likes to have a pause after the third one. Mostly for your sake. Have a snack and some water, replenish your energy. He'll leave it up to you if you want to continue or if you'd rather go to sleep.

When you have sex with Oda most of the time it'll be him who does the fucking. He is a service top and loves to pleasure you but that doesn't mean he wouldn't let you top him. In fact, he'd love to see you be more dominating whether you top or not. He likes it when you're more assertive, when you challenge him.

Sure, fucking you in a mating press is a fantastic way to spend the night. But when you look at him like that... with that fire in your eyes, determined to make him yours. This time he would be your prey.

Oda enjoys the thrill of sex, be it hunting you or having you dominate him. Sometimes you might have a cheeky quickie behind the fish hut when the sun had set over the horizon. Sometimes he'd take you up to the trees or vine covered buildings and take you there, admiring the view (you).

His goal through sex is to express his love and devotion to you, to keeping you safe. The words he'll never be able to say outloud he'll whisper between your thighs, against your neck, through gasps and grunts, through fingers digging into your skin.

"I love you, Rabbit."

[remlionheart]

Growing Pains

part three

♡ˎˊ˗ hiiii, welcome to the final installment of the fic that’s taken over my life for the last four months ♡ ̆̈ be sure to start here if you're new ♡ moving on from this story will be emotional i can’t lie, i've gotten way too invested in this but i'm very happy that i was able to see it through and hopefully do it justice. what started off as a small idea turned into something much bigger and i'm so thankful for all of the love and support you guys gave me. i love u all SO much, thanks for sticking with me on this ♡ biblically-cannon-megumi x fem!reader. slow burn. hurt / comfort. aged up characters. forced proximity. (light) enemies to lovers. eventual smut. this is what jjk could've been if fushiguro was the main character and gege would’ve been hugged as a child. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡ˎˊ˗

₊⊹♡ MDNI ₊⊹♡

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

You'd lied for him.

Despite absolutely everything– despite your better judgement, despite the sick, burning sense of anxiety that had taken over your mind and body, you'd still... covered for him. Giving Gojo vague and concise answers, fabricating lies to make Megumi's late-night disappearances seem less concerning than they actually were. Telling him that it'd just started happening instead of admitting that it'd actually been going on for nearly two months. Painting a soft, false picture that he was usually only ever gone for an hour at a time though there had been several nights he hadn't made it back until nearly 4 in the morning. Mending his worries with whatever reassuring words you could string together to make him loosen up on his questioning until he'd finally closed the door to your dorm, leaving you with a poignant– "If anything else happens, you come find me."

You weren't sure how you'd managed to hold it together so well, but the minute it was just you alone with your thoughts again, you found your hands trembling as you rushed over to his side of the room. Reminding yourself to breathe while you rummaged through his bookshelf and nightstand for any sort of explanation.

Going through his things felt wrong, but not going through them would've somehow felt worse. If you'd learned anything from your time spent with him, it was that Megumi Fushiguro was a lot of things, but deceitful without cause wasn't one of them. He wasn't the type to lie for no reason. He held his secrets unreasonably close to his chest but never out of malice. If he was hiding something, if he was lying to you, Gojo, Nobara, and Yuuji– arguably the only people he'd ever really let in, it wasn't because he wanted to.

His belongings were every bit as organized and well-guarded as he was though, hardly anything seeming suspicious or out of place no matter how many journals and textbooks you searched through. You were trying to be as meticulous as you could, doing your very best not to acknowledge the race against the clock you knew were up against or the ever-increasing weight that was sitting on your chest as you reached for the only book left– the one that you'd gifted him for his birthday.

You pushed past your body's consternation, carefully flipping through the pages when finally, a folded up loose-leaf piece of paper fell out of it, making your heart completely abandon any semblance of a steady rhythm.

It was a series of bullet-points mostly, jotted down information about reversed curse techniques and different types of healing abilities that didn't seem to go in any particular order. You were almost afraid that you'd hit another dead-end until your eyes landed on the bottom of the page. Your legs suddenly struggling to keep you upright as you trailed over his handwriting, all of the rigid pieces of the last few months gradually beginning to unravel and connect.

"Technique Name: 'Kokoro Kiri' - also known as Heart Severing," it read, "is a reversed curse technique developed to manipulate, distort, and erase memories by severing the spiritual and emotional connections tied within a person's mind. This technique utilizes cursed energy to fracture the target's emotional bonds to certain experiences and people, effectively making them unable to access specific memories."

The page nearly slipped from your grasp, your hand suddenly shaking beyond your control as you forced yourself to take a seat on the edge of his bed. Your breathing was alarmingly uneven, tears desperately trying to push their way out no matter how hard you fought to keep them at bay. As much as you wanted to lie to yourself– to naively choose to believe that all of this somehow wasn't directly related to you, you couldn't.

Reality had you backed into a corner with its steel grip locked firmly around your neck and there was no escaping it.

Your vision was blurry, the words almost bleeding together as you continued on to the last paragraph, "Memory Fragmentation– typically performed by a healer, is used to destroy emotional and cognitive connections attached to selected memories or selected people in the target's mind. In some extreme cases, a skilled enough user may even have the capability to erase large portions of their target's past or sever bonds between them and a specified individual. Unlike memory manipulation or distortion, this ability creates a void in the target's mind, leaving them with a permanent sense of disconnection from who or what was once there."

The oxygen had all but vanished from the room as you stared back at his words, a devastatingly cruel fate laid out in such pretty handwriting. It was hard to fathom, that the same hands that had touched you so gently– the ones that had played with your hair until you'd fallen asleep, the ones that had tangled into yours on the nights that neither one of you wanted to be alone were the same ones that had been carrying around the weight of this plan all along.

You knew him well enough to know that this wasn't something he'd just decided on– no, nothing Megumi ever did was half-thought-out or impulsive. He was unbearably analytical. Annoyingly thorough when it came to most things, but especially research. He'd never bother to waste his time on variables or flimsy possibilities. If he was going to do something, he had to be impossibly sure that it would work, which meant that this… this must've been a guarantee.

All of those moments of hesitation– both big and small. The layers of distance and formality. The harsh, venomous silence that he used to separate himself from you. They all finally made sense.

"Itadori. Kugisaki. Anyone else here that you meet, for that matter," he'd said, "they’re not your friends.”

The tears that streamed down your face were painful and completely unavoidable as you pulled your knees up to your chest, letting your head rest against your arm while his words continued to haunt you.

“You can’t avoid it forever." The way he'd said it had felt so cold and unwarranted at the time. "You’re gonna have to get used to loss and to keeping everyone you meet at a distance." But it'd never occurred to you until now just how necessary that conversation actually was.

It had been a warning, not for you, but for himself.

Your body was numb, mind completely overrun with questions that you weren't sure you even wanted answers to, and they just kept multiplying the longer you sat with it all.

You allowed yourself another minute to breathe before slowly unfolding your legs and using the sleeve of your hoodie to dry your cheeks. Letting your eyes drift over the page one last time as you carefully tucked it into his book again and got to your feet, wedging it back into the spot you'd taken it from.

Would he have told you? Or would you have woken up one day with a void in the place that he should've been, not even realizing that something was missing? How far did this go, exactly? If there were different degrees of memory fragmentation, where did his interest in using it begin and where did it end?

The only real thing that made sense to you was that this must've been some sort of loophole to negate his contract with Yaga. To either free you from Jujutsu Society as a whole or to break his tie to you. It was too late at this point though– after everything that had happened, you didn't want to go down either of those paths and the fact that he did, the fact that he had somehow come to terms with the entirety of this... it made you realize that maybe you'd never actually known him at all.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, abruptly pulling you back to reality as his name flashed across the screen: "No project tonight," it read, "it'll finally just be us."

You stared at the text, unable to even write back a simple reply with how hard it was to keep yourself standing upright and steady. Your thumbs hovered above the keys, almost typing, but never actually letting a full thought form before another blue bubble popped up from him: "I wish it could always just be us."

Tears were instantly pricking at the corners of your eyes again, your insides burning as your chest constricted. Precarious but determined fingertips spelling out the last bit of honesty that seemed to exist between the two of you–

"It could’ve been...”

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

He was frozen in place, the cold chill of the abandoned church that they'd been assigned to suddenly feeling like the very least haunting thing he was up against as he stashed his phone back into his pocket. Nothing had gone right since you'd dropped the three of them off. They'd been stuck in the same cathedral for hours and still hadn't found so much as a trace of cursed energy despite how small the area was.

Everyone was getting worn down and frustrated, but they didn't have the luxury of coming back empty-handed. His concern should've been on finding a solution, on checking the place over again to see if there was a hidden door or passageway that they'd somehow missed– something, anything that might lead them to the cursed object they were supposed to find. But instead, the only thought occupying his scattered, sleep-deprived mind was your use of the word "could've". The concise, intentional past-tense bite it had to it.

You were more similar to him than he'd care to admit, clumsy with your words at times and prone to rambling when nervous, but just like him, you never spoke out of turn. You were tactful. Soft-spoken, yet very deliberate when it came to expressing your feelings.

"Could've been" felt like a serrated knife because it was meant to. "Could've been" held the weight of a threat because it was one. "Could've been" implied that you knew something because–

"God, this is a pain in the ass," Kugisaki huffed, rolling a piece of rubble under her shoe as Fushiguro found himself actually pacing the longer he mulled over it. "We've looked damn near everywhere, there's nothing here!"

"Maybe Gojo gave us the wrong coordinates." Itadori shrugged, plopping himself down on one of the concrete pews as he stretched his arms behind his head.

Gojo.

Why did everything in his god-forsaken life have to lead back to Gojo?

You were the only two people at Jujutsu High with everyone else being out on missions– of course he'd tried to talk to you to see how things had been going. Gojo was constantly keeping tabs on him, always poking around to see how he was doing even when it was none of his concern. And you, being you– you'd probably been honest with him, not understanding how consequential your answers were.

The picture had become excruciatingly clear to him, what must've led up to that one single text from you. There was no wishful thinking left, no maybes or what-ifs that could possibly free him from this hell that you were both aware of now. Reality had him in the same chokehold it had you in, its grip just as merciless around his throat too– you knew and the only thing he could do was accept it.

He drew in a sharp breath, running a staggered hand over his face as his footsteps finally came to a pause. "We're withdrawing for now."

Kugisaki's eyes snapped up towards his, a blend of relief and confusion sweeping over her as she blinked back at him. "You sure?"

Fushiguro had never backed down from an assignment. Never tapped out no matter how long or grueling a mission was, but this was different. He could barely focus on anything, could barely keep himself present and coherent let alone concentrate on piecing together the layout of this abandoned building.

He needed to talk to you. Needed to get back to his room as soon as he could. It was the first time in his life that his emotions had managed to overrule his logic. Whatever was here clearly wasn't as threatening as it was thought to be– it could wait, you couldn't.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, shooting you a text to let you know that they were ready as he motioned for Itadori and Kugisaki to follow him.

"We'll come back tomorrow," he reasoned, trying to sound more sure of himself than he actually was, "we can talk to Gojo about it in the morning and reconvene when we have more information, but there's no sense in staying here all night."

He knew neither of them would fight him on the decision, they'd both been practically half-way out the door before he'd even said anything anyway.

He stuffed his hands into his jacket, a sobering gust of late-winter air swirling around him as they stepped outside and started heading towards the cafe that you'd dropped them off at earlier.

Nervousness wasn't a feeling he knew well, but it had become a deep, painful pit in the center of his stomach the closer they got to you. There was so much he had to explain, so many agonizing words that he had to somehow make seem acceptable even though they were anything but.

He hesitated as he reached for the car door, his eyes meeting yours with all the caution in the world before he finally settled into the passenger's seat and gently reached over to rest the palm of his hand on your thigh, almost flinching at the idea of you pushing him away. It was hard to process that you'd somehow become both the cause and the remedy to his distress.

Your voice was even, your composure seemingly in-tact, but the way you looked at him... your glossy, defeated stare told a completely different story than the nonchalant facade you were putting on for your friends.

The ride back was unnervingly calm– you, Itadori, and Kugisaki all chatting back and forth, the volume of the radio getting turned up and down every few minutes depending on the song, Kugisaki's laughter echoing from the backseat at something Itadori had said. He found his grip tightening around your leg in a feeble attempt to stop his racing thoughts while his head rested against the window when the warmth of your hand landed on top of his. Your eyes subtly drifting over to him with more reassurance than he deserved.

His heart was lodged in his throat by the time you pulled into the parking lot, each step feeling more damning than the last as you made your way to the dorms until you'd finally reached the end of the hall. You both waved and said your goodnights to Itadori and Kugisaki before you dug your key out of your hoodie and opened the door, leaving him alone with you and the truths he couldn't possibly say.

It was quiet, the tension in the room absolutely suffocating as you stripped out of your coats and put your uniforms away, dodging glances from each other while changing into your usual sleepwear. He took a seat on the side of his bed, his pulse ringing through his ears as he watched you put your hair up in the mirror.

He could see your apprehension– the internal debate of whether to say something or stay silent. The indecision of retreating back to your bed or his. It was in every movement you made, every small detail of your mannerisms plagued with a sense of uncertainty that made him ache.

He swallowed hard as he reached his hand out to you, "Can you–" He cleared his throat, watching you slowly turn to face him. "Can you come here?"

The same hurt he was feeling was reflected in your gaze, your breathing coming to a visible stop as you struggled to look back at him.

"Please?"

His voice was barely a whisper, wavering and broken but still strong enough to pull you in.

You turned off the light before taking his hand, letting his arms wrap around you as you burrowed yourself into his chest. The familiar scent of him settling your nerves while his lips pressed against the top of your head and his fingertips began drawing soft, hazy patterns along your shoulder. The two of you welcoming the calm silence that followed as you sank further into the safety of one another.

Growing up, you'd never really known if home was supposed to be a place or a feeling. You'd lost it so many years ago, you figured there wasn't much sense in giving significance to a word that didn't belong in your vocabulary anymore anyway, but finally being with him after the day that you'd both had... You quickly realized that maybe it still did exist after all– not as a place or a feeling, but as both. It was here, right inside the small space between you. It was this, the sound of his heart beating steadily against your temple.

It was him and there was going to come a day where you'd wake up without the privilege of even being able to remember the beauty of what you'd lost.

Your chest heaved against your will, tears soaking his shirt as they spilled down your cheeks, the weight of it all becoming far too crippling to bear. Your arms locked around his waist desperately. Hopeless, childlike thoughts suddenly soaring through your mind like– maybe if you held onto him tight enough, you could somehow stay here forever, maybe if you could find the right things to say then time wouldn't have to carry on.

His grasp mirrored yours, holding you as steady as he could while letting out soft little nothings that all bled together, “Shh, it's okay. I've got you." and "Please breathe, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

He was dangerously close to his own breaking point too though, the only thing holding him together was the need to be strong for you. His resolve was crumbling, every wall he'd ever built absolutely annihilated by the feeling of your nails digging into his sides as you clung onto him like he was the most important thing in the world.

"I don't–want–" you shook your head at the thought, your words choppy and almost impossible to get out. "I don't... want to– leave you."

He let out a semblance of an exhale, fighting to keep his hands from shaking as he guided you down onto the bed with him so that you were both laying down with his arms still wrapped around you and your head back on his chest.

The way you trembled against him as he ran his fingers through your hair was the exact reason why he'd kept all of this hidden in the first place– the same reason why he'd tried so hard to keep his distance from you. This pain would've always been inevitable for him, but it shouldn't have been for you.

He continued to brush away your tears, more reassuring whispers spilling out every so often until your body finally started to relax. Your breathing gradually coming back down to a normal pace while his thumb traced along your neck.

"If it were up to me," he swallowed, forcing his vision to stay pointed up at the ceiling. "Things would be different."

You lifted your head slightly, your eyes roaming over his face as your fingers absentmindedly tangled into the collar of his shirt.

"You'd stay here with me. We'd graduate together." He rested a hand over his forehead to keep himself distracted from the weight of your stare, knowing it was the only way he could the next part out. "But, that's not how this place works– things are rarely good and when they are, they don't last long. There's... a lot– so much you don't know about the contract that's keeping you here."

Your lips parted, but no words came out, your shoulders suddenly stiff again as you watched him.

"I haven’t been protecting you because Yaga told me to or because Gojo told me to or even because it was my assignment to... I’ve been protecting you because it's what I promised myself I would do."

It was like looking into a storm over the ocean when his eyes met yours again, graveness mixed guilt. "I need you to listen to me, okay? Really listen to me. This doesn't leave this room. This doesn't leave us."

You gave him a slow nod, chills splintering down your spine as he cupped your face with his hand.

"Yaga's original plan to have you executed didn't necessarily end just because I intervened. All I was able to do was postpone it and have the responsibility of who would carry it out be... transferred."

The air had officially been stolen from your lungs.

"My job? My actual mission when it comes to you? Is to monitor you. To watch you. To see if you'll have any lingering effects after coming into contact with Sukuna's finger as a non-sorcerer. You might as well be a science experiment to Yaga and the other higher-ups.” The disgust in his voice was thick, heavy. “I'm supposed to be the one to make sure nothing goes wrong while you're here. I'm contracted to keep close tabs on you to ensure that if Sukuna takes over Yuuji's body to try and coax information out of you, you aren't able to give it to him..."

It was the first time you'd seen his emotions evolve past his usual irritability or stoicism. He'd finally reached the core of it. The root of all of the negativity that he had bottled up inside of him for so long. It wasn't something as simple as anger or resentment– no, it was... grief that he’d been facing.

"The agreement was never for me to keep you safe, it was for me... to kill you if you became too much of a liability." He could barely look at you, his jaw clenched, the room blurred by tears he wasn't prepared to shed.

"That's why– I leave every night... I got Shoko to tip me off to a healer on the outskirts of Tokyo and we've been... going over different techniques... I've been burying myself in research, trying to figure out–" He paused, more violent waves of shame crashing over him as his thumb continued to lightly trace your jawline. "Trying to figure out the least invasive way to go about this because I– don't want it to... hurt. I want you to be able to keep as many memories as you can. I... want it to be... quick and painless. I– just want you to be... safe. Safe and out of here. That's all I care about."

You were crying again, but this time for both of you, for every single dismal decision that had been made and led to this.

You almost felt selfish for your own feelings, finally seeing the full scope of his. He'd saved you– again and again. And even after managing to find a way to do it one last time, he was still on the losing side of it. He would always be bound to the knowledge of what he'd done to you no matter how much time passed. You'd go on to not remember him, but oh god, would he remember you.

He'd been mourning you since the day you arrived and it'd only been getting worse with each day that he woke up with your body pressed against his. Even when he fought to find solutions, they still came with such a steep price that they ended up feeling like losses in disguise.

Neither side of this was fair. You'd be a late-night what-if that haunted him for the rest of his life and he'd be that place between sleep and awake for you. That confusing, gut-wrenching feeling of waking up and missing someone so immensely only to question if they'd ever really existed or not.

Both of your fates were equally cruel in vastly different ways, but realizing the selflessness behind his plan made something inside of you break. Everything he'd done, all of it, had always been for... you.

His hands were firm and secure against the sides of your face as he guided you up to him, looking back at you with all of the strength he had left.

"You've gotta trust me, okay?" Even through your own tears, you could still seehis too. Just barely pricking at the corners of his eyes as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear like he'd done so many times before only none of it felt the way it should've. "I'll get you out of here. I won't let anything happen to you. But I need you to promise you won't fight me on this because.... it's the only way... we have to be in this together. Please."

Your breathing was staggered, your mind completely overwhelmed by promises you couldn't possibly make but had to. Feelings you absolutely couldn't lose but had to.

"What happens to you?" You faltered. "After all of this is said and done– where will it leave you?"

You couldn't help but think that the somber smile that cut across his face was one of the prettiest and most devasting things you'd ever get to see in your life.

"Doesn't really matter..." he whispered, featherlight touches still trailing across your skin. "I get to know that you're okay and that's enough."

His grip tightened around you, delicately pulling you closer to him until his mouth was grazing yours. "Promise me."

You wouldn't– you wouldn't do this for anyone else in the entire fucking world, and yet, you'd do it... for him. Your voice was shattered, barely audible as you finally agreed.

"Promise."

He rested his forehead rested against yours, taking a moment to soak you in. To share the same space as you. To hold you and know that he didn't have to let go just yet.

"You know, I used to watch you too." he said, lips softly pressing into yours as more tears spilled down your cheeks. "Across from the courtyard– you sat in the very back corner with a book in your hand. I always liked that about you."

You shook your head in disbelief with a half-hearted smile as he kissed you, again and again, more easy little confessions from him slipping out between breaths. Quietly reminiscing while he played with your hair, easing the room back into its usual calm state before he reached for the comforter and wrapped it around the two of you, letting your head nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

He watched you intently as you slowly began to drift off, your words tapering down to incoherent little hums while your body tangled further into his. Exhaustion finally stealing you away. He laid as still as he could, memorizing the ceiling pattern while the sound of your breathing mixed with the snow tapping against the window. The warmth of your skin perfectly contrasting the frigid temperatures outside.

Maybe Gojo had been right after all– because from where he was laying, he really couldn’t imagine any curse or nightmare or hell that was scarier than what he was feeling right now.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The next day was a blur.

Ijichi returned back to class– but you didn't, refusing to leave the comfort of Megumi's bed. As much as you both needed to keep up appearances to avoid any more suspicion being tossed his way from the higher-ups, he still didn't fight you when you told him you weren't going. "I just..." you'd hesitated, your body not at all ready to untangle itself from the faux safety of his sheets. "I think I need a day to..."

"I get it." His eyes were just as exhausted and heavy as yours, but he'd still tucked you in anyway, gently wrapping his blanket around your shoulders as his stare lingered over you for a moment. "Don't worry about Ijichi," he said, "I'll tell him you're not coming. Shouldn't be a big deal. Just... try and get some rest."

You'd nodded, a seed of guilt settling into the pit of your stomach for not being able to pull yourself together when you knew he didn't have any other choice. He didn't fault you for it though– instead, he'd kissed the side of your cheek, whispering a soft but impossible, "It's gonna be alright." before smoothing down the collar of his uniform and heading out the door.

All of the progress that you'd made over the last six months– all of the painfully naïve optimism that you'd been clinging onto about finding purpose and normalcy suddenly felt so hollow, cruel almost. If Megumi's plan played out the way it was supposed to, it meant that you had approximately 9 days left until your mind would be permanently altered in ways that you couldn't even begin to let yourself try and comprehend.

You'd decided that you'd return back to class tomorrow– you'd take your meaningless little quizzes on probability and ratios and listen to Ijichi's lectures and do your very best to pretend that it didn't feel like your insides were catching fire with each passing minute. You'd put your best fake smile forward and go through the motions no matter how much of a slow death it felt like, because that's what you promised Megumi you'd do. But until tomorrow came, you weren't leaving his bed for anything.

You drew in a sharp breath, willing to time to stop, even if just for a second as you attempted to declutter your thoughts. Maybe it was a coping mechanism or maybe it was because you were all too aware of the fact that soon, they'd no longer be there, but you couldn't stop yourself from sifting through old memories. Digging through the recesses of your mind like it was an old attic, letting nostalgia crash over you so hard you were almost afraid you wouldn't be able to find your way back to the present.

It started off slow, little snippets and fragments of mid-July air and the sound of your childhood best friend's laughter. Easy things like swing sets and waking up to the smell of fresh-baked bread at your grandma's house, but then you really started to remember the details. The duality and nuances of that house...

You rolled over as you rested your head in your hand, a painful static rippling through your mind.

You'd had to start over so many times in life– from the unexpected death of your parents when you were a kid, to moving into your grandma's house the summer before middle school after she'd gained full custody of you... She'd always been so kind and gentle but also feeble with a slew of health issues surrounding her. You'd been terrified when you'd lost her freshmen year, completely unsure of what your fate would be. You'd managed to avoid foster care though, quietly living in her house alone since it was already paid off. Keeping the utilities and yourself afloat with the small bank account she'd left you with.

"Come by my place after school," you'd never forget how relieved you were when he'd offered his house for that project instead of asking about yours.

Your life had been uprooted more times than you could count, everyone you'd ever loved ended up being torn away from you in the most unexpected and unfair ways imaginable... But even with everything that you'd faced, there was still nothing that could've prepared you for what happened at that party.

Your best friend who went with you... the way she held your hand while the two of you browsed through thrift stores and laughed together. She was the only one back then who really knew your situation...

"Fifteen fatalities have been reported so far, but we're still keeping an eye on it." She was your immediate first thought, yet another part of yourself that you'd lost only this time, it had been your fault. "Usually when something like this happens, the numbers climb more often than they fall."

Your fingers tangled into Megumi's blanket, the smell of him swirling around you as tears streamed down your face. While he may have carried the weight of it differently than you did, he wasn't the only one who had been forced to deal with loss. It'd been a haunting and viciously persistent theme in your life too, one that you were painfully tired of having to accept.

Your head was throbbing, your eyes closing to try and block out the rest of it when a knock at the door forced you back into the room.

"It's me!" Yuuji called out, his voice just as familiar and comforting as it always had been. "Promise I'll be in and out, I just wanted to drop off some curry for you."

You swallowed hard before rubbing a hand over your face to steady yourself. You didn't need a mirror to tell you that you looked like hell, but you still stole a quick glance at yourself anyway as you made your way to the door, cringing at the distraught reflection that stared back at you.

"Sorry to drag you out of bed when you're sick but Fushiguro said that..." The way his face fell as his eyes trailed over you made your stomach drop. "What happened...?"

You shook your head, offering him the most sincere smile you could manage. "Just... a really bad migraine." You shrugged, taking the bag of food from him. "I've been trying to sleep it off, I'll be alright."

You knew he didn't believe you.

“A migraine?”

"Yeah, they come out of nowhere sometimes." You nodded, a tidal wave of guilt washing over you for so blatantly lying to him. “I should be okay by tomorrow. It's really not a big deal."

"Right..." He hesitated, doing his best to map out his words. “Well, you know that if you’re not okay tomorrow… or the day after that… you can talk to me, right?”

The only thing you could do was nod again, the lump in your throat threatening to break as you fought the overwhelming urge to grab his wrist and ask him to sit with you. To tell him how much you were going to miss him. To tell him how much he and Nobara meant to you. To tell him that even if you didn't remember them, they'd always be a part of your heart... But you couldn't, you couldn't say hardly anything between the weight of his concern and Megumi's secret.  

He waited another few seconds, his apprehension to leave you alone palpable. But when you didn't say anything else, he finally took a step back. “Just... get to feeling better, okay?"

You nodded again, your voice catching as you said, “I will."

He shot you a faint smile and you did your best to return it before he disappeared back down the hall towards the sound of Nobara's voice. "She okay?" You heard her ask as you closed the door.

Everything in your life had always been fleeting and temporary but knowing that they were too was a level of a pain that you weren't ready to face. Your hands shook as you set the bag of curry down on the nightstand and fell back into Megumi's bed, curling into yourself as a sob racked through your body without warning.

You'd experienced more grief than you could ever put into words, and still, nothing had ever hurt quite like this.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Megumi's footsteps were light when he returned, his movements cautious as he approached you, glancing over at the untouched food by his bed.

He ran a gentle hand along your back, trying his best to keep you comfortable despite the selfish part of him that wanted to wake you up and bury his head into your chest after a long day.

You shifted, your hand instinctively reaching out for his as your eyes started to open, your surroundings still a blur. It was later than you'd anticipated it being, the moon just barely lighting up his side of the room. 

"You should eat," he said quietly, his thumb rubbing patterns into the inside of your palm.

"I know." You winced, your stomach burning at the thought. "I just... can't right now."

A blend of understanding and worry flickered through his stare as he pressed a light kiss onto the top of your hand. It wasn't like he'd necessarily been taking the best care of himself either the last few weeks.

He kicked off his shoes, stripping down into a t-shirt and boxers before laying down with you, the warmth of your body settling over him in a way he didn't realize he needed until he had it again.

A small smile crept across your face as he nestled into you, his tired arms wrapping around your waist while your fingers threaded through his hair, your nails just barely grazing his scalp. His legs were cold against yours, the sobering smell of winter air and pine filling the space between you.

You stared up at the ceiling, focusing on the sound of his breathing as it gradually began to sync with yours. It was rare that he clung to you like this, but it never failed to make you feel safe, like the rest of the world couldn't touch you as long as he was near you. 

The thought was soft when it first entered your mind, deceptively dreamy and trancelike with the way it had flowed in so easily. It was warmth, comfort, and... panic.

Your pulse quickened as the sentence echoed through your mind again, louder this time. Three words that you couldn’t possibly let yourself hold onto. Three words that represented everything you were losing. The feeling shifted from something gentle and manageable to sharp and serrated as it started to press against your ribs, demanding space you couldn’t afford to give it. Your fingers stilled in his hair, another rush of static and tears suddenly clouding your vision.

“Hey.”

His voice was low and steady as it cut through the haze, his hand brushing against your side. He propped himself up, tentatively hovering above you while his eyes searched yours. He could feel your heart racing, the way it was practically trying to beat through your chest.

"Breathe for me, okay?" He reached for your hand, but you could barely register it, a haze of anxiety replacing reality as your surroundings began to blur together.

You grabbed the side of your head, desperately closing your eyes to try and escape it, but the static in your mind only continued to spread. The room faded in and out, the edges of his face blurring together as the panic attack swept over you with vengeance. All of the things you wanted to say but couldn't. All of the feelings that you'd tried to bury but couldn't– they were all right there, right at the forefront of the storm.

Your fingers tangled into the fabric of Megumi's shirt, his face just inches apart from yours. He was still talking, still trying to keep you steady, but it wasn't working. There was a deafening ringing in your ears. A sea of scattered thoughts and displaced emotions crashing down around you. And then–

Nothing.

The static had somehow lifted, the suffocating wave of fear dying down. Your panic gradually replaced by what felt like an impossible stillness as he continued to hold you.

"Hey," the franticness in his voice was something you'd never heard before. "Look at me. Please, just–"

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, your vision clearing as you let the hand that you had pressed to your forehead fall back down to your side. 

The relief he felt was fleeting, quickly replaced by something else entirely as you froze again, your gaze locking onto something over his shoulder. 

You thought they were shadows at first– the type of looming figures that you'd see out of the corner of your eye when you'd been up for too long. The ones that would disappear with a simple blink, but the two sets of glowing eyes staring back at you were only becoming more and more visible the longer you looked at them.

Your head tilted slightly, taking in the mix of black and white fur, the matching red markings that decorated their foreheads before the smaller one took a step towards you, its movements gentle but seemingly protective as it laid beside you at the edge of the bed.

Megumi shifted, his shoulders visibly stiffening as he watched your reaction– the way your eyes carefully drifted over the Shikigami next to you. He drew in a sharp breath, keeping his tone as even as he could despite his own fears rising, realizing what this meant.

“You can see them... can’t you?”

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The sun had just started to creep in through the blinds, but Megumi hadn't slept at all. He laid with his eyes closed and his mind racing for the better part of the night, tracing delicate patterns along your skin any time you'd start to stir.

"It's more common than you'd think," Gojo said as they walked across the training field, the August sun beating down on both of them. "Negativity takes on all kinds of different forms, it's not always as black and white as we make it out to be."

Megumi had shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes pointed down at the track as they made their way past two first-years struggling to land a hit on each other. "But if curses only become visible when someone's on the brink of death, then why –"

"That's not the only time it happens." Gojo interjected, "There are exceptions, just like anything else. All it takes is for enough grief and despair to hit someone at just the right frequency and..." He snapped his fingers, pulling Megumi's attention towards him again. "A non-sorcerer would be able to start seeing things they shouldn't– curses, residuals, it would all become visible to them."

Megumi's pace slowed, his brows furrowing the longer he thought about it. "And you think that's what happened to him?" He finally asked, "You think he just... spiraled so hard that he stumbled into this world by accident?"

"More or less." Gojo rolled his shoulders with a sigh. "Look, Junpei was a perfect example of what can happen when all the wrongs things line up exactly at the right time. All that bullying, that isolation, losing his mom– his entire life was one long string of pain and anger. That much negativity? It doesn’t usually just sit quietly. It festers. And in his case, it built up to the point where it broke through the usual barriers."

Megumi paused, trying but failing to block out how hard Yuuji had taken his death over the last month. "And cases like him– exceptions like Junpei are... common?"

Gojo's smirk faltered, his hand resting easily on Megumi's shoulder as he bent slightly to meet his gaze. "All I'm saying is that they're not unheard of. Even the strongest people have their limits."

The memory had replayed itself so many times he could barely distinguish the present from nostalgia by the time you woke up next to him. He'd known that he was on borrowed time from the moment you'd arrived, but now... even that was gone.

His grip on you was light but firm as you started to stretch your legs, your eyes barely having the chance to open before your own thoughts began to spiral. No matter how much he tried to keep you calm, the demon dogs staring back at you were a solid reminder of where the two of you stood.

"We have to go... tonight, don't we?"

The silence that followed made your chest tighten, your hand shaking as your fingertips dug into the side of his arm. You drew in a breath before nodding in defeat, sparing him from having to be the one to say it.

You knew the second it had happened that this was what was coming, but there was still something so unexplainably damning about how it felt settling over the two of you. This was the last morning you’d wake up beside him. The last time you’d get to see him like this– soft and unguarded in ways no one else would ever know.

Your lips parted with those three words still desperately clinging to the tip of your tongue, but you managed to swallow them down, refusing to make things worse than they already were. It was the second time in only a few short minutes that you'd been the one to spare him.

His hand caught yours, your quiet acceptance hitting you both in steady but unrelenting waves as you laid together, your feelings embedded into every touch and every movement you made. It was tangible, absolutely everywhere in the space between you, and maybe… that was enough.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The hours went by like minutes, a heavy sense of finality and dread clinging onto even the most mundane things– from the way it felt to help Megumi with the buttons on his uniform while the two of you got ready together to the car ride where you'd had to take him, Yuuji, and Nobara back to the same church that they'd failed their previous mission at. It was all painfully familiar and foreign at once.

You were digging mental graves for friends that were still very much alive. Glancing over at Yuuji with a small smile as he leaned up to the front of the car to make sure you were actually feeling better. Knowing that this was your last day with him and having to push down the grief of not being able to give him or Nobara a proper goodbye. Kissing Megumi– really kissing him before you left and trying not to break down at the way his eyes lingered on you as you drove off. Every interaction you had was somehow more futile than the last and yet, you had no choice but to endure it.

By the time you reached Ijichi, you were more than ready to take a seat and tune out the rest of the world with one of his infamously dry lectures, but even his monotone voice and horrible puns were finding ways to tug at your heartstrings. Your mind wandered back to your first week with him– how welcome he'd made you feel without even meaning to. His classroom had always felt like more of a reprieve than a punishment, a quiet comfort amongst the chaos.

You shook your head, fighting past the tears that were threatening to spill over as you busied yourself with one of the ratio equations he had on the whiteboard when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You swallowed hard, watching his name flash across screen before getting up and promptly making your way out into the hall.

He'd never called on you while on a mission.

"Hey," you exhaled, "is everything–"

"We found a special grade curse." He said breathlessly, "Nobara– she's alright, but I need you to come get her and take her back to Shoko."

The phone nearly slipped from your hand, the loud, piercing background noise coupled with Yuuji's panicked, 'Fushiguro!' made your heart feel like it was going to stop altogether.

You looked back at Ijichi from over your shoulder as Megumi continued talking, giving you instructions on what to do when you got there, but your focus was suddenly everywhere else.

"Gojo..." You hesitated, "Do you want me to bring him? Just in case–"

"No," his voice was sharp, leaving little room for protest. "No, Itadori and I can handle it, I just need you to come get her, okay?"

You hated the knot that had formed in your stomach, the nervousness that danced through your veins as you reluctantly agreed, telling him you'd be there as soon as you could.

When working as an assistant, sorcerers are always to take top priority regardless of the situation, it was one of the first lessons he'd gone over with you, though neither one of you had any way of knowing at the time that you'd one day be using it against him...

You zipped up your coat, shaking away the thought as you headed down the faculty stairs and dug your set of keys out of your pocket. You didn't have time for remorse– not now, and not when the lies you’d told would be forgotten by the end of the night anyway.

The cold air nipped at your face, snow still blowing haphazardly across the parking lot as you climbed into the driver's seat, overwhelmed and completely unaware of the set of eyes that had been following you since you'd left Ijichi's classroom.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The drive there was a blur, your mind flooding with nothing but worse-case scenarios and scattered images of Nobara laughing and holding your hand as the two of you walked down the hallway together.

Knowing that she was hurt... knowing that she needed a healer while also not knowing the extent of her injuries amidst the stress of everything else you were already facing had your foot heavy on the gas pedal, your car slightly shaking from the gravel road you were on.

The city lights had vanished a few miles back, the grey overcast not helping your case as you struggled to make out buildings in the late January haze of snow and poorly marked country roads. You weren't sure if it was relief or more dread that swirled through your stomach when your GPS started to chime, but it was too late to let yourself indulge in either.

Your throat tightened when you finally spotted it– an old worn-down cathedral in the middle of a seemingly empty field, surrounded by fresh debris and rubble that only made your anxiety swell. It was the first time you'd ever been to actual pick-up spot. The first time you'd been exposed to the things that Megumi had tried so hard to keep you sheltered from.

You peered through the icy windshield, searching but failing to find any sign of her. "She'll be out front waiting for you when you get here so just stay in the car." He'd said, "She'll come to you, okay?" Even after you'd agreed though, he still repeated it back with an unnerving amount of conviction laced into his words. "Promise me– you won't get out of the car."

Your hands trembled as you pulled out your phone and began dialing his number, squeezing your eyes shut to try and block out just how wrong all of this felt. Each unanswered ring seemed to drag by slower than the last, your pulse thrumming through your ears by the time his voicemail echoed through the receiver.

You'd done everything that he'd asked and so much more. You'd kept his secrets. You'd protected him. You'd lied for him. You'd cared for him in more ways than you could ever bring yourself to say aloud. But this was one promise you were quickly realizing you wouldn't be able to keep as you watched a familiar thick, black smog seep out through the cracks in the boarded-up windows of the church. Another powerful thud reverberating with such intensity that it shook the ground beneath you.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, though you weren't sure if you were saying it to him or yourself as you reached for the door handle.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Your breathing came to a halt the moment that your feet hit the ground. The air was impossibly dense, contaminated with a thick layer of smoke that seemed to tangle around your limbs the closer you got to the entrance.

You could practically hear Megumi's voice screaming at you to turn around, but you forced yourself to push past it as you approached the edge of the broken stone staircase, redirecting your focus on where and where not to step.

The entryway was completely shattered, the heavy wooden doors splintered and hanging off of their hinges. You held your breath as you squeezed your way through a small opening, doing everything you could to keep yourself steady despite the trail of fog that seemed to follow you.

Your pace was meticulous, each movement calculated while you navigated your way through the wreckage. It wasn't until you saw the faint waves of light flashing through the darkness that you froze. Your eyes snapped towards the back of the church, watching in quiet horror as the unmistakable hum of cursed energy exploded across the room in bursts.

You were stuck somewhere between fight or flight– your legs carrying you with agility you didn't even know you had as you broke into a sprint. You ducked, taking cover behind one of the destroyed pillars, just narrowly dodging a support beam that came crashing down when a hand suddenly reached out for you.

"'The hell were you thinking–" she coughed, her voice still maintaining its usual firmness despite how feeble it was. "You know you shouldn't be here."

"Nobara," you breathed, your hand cupped her face to wipe away the red rolling down her cheek. Her body was lax, slumped against the remains of a wooden pew with blood dripping from her hairline down to her chin.

Your insides felt like they were on fire, adrenaline flooding your system quicker than you could keep up with as you scanned the area for the most manageable way out before looking back at her. "I'm not leaving you here." You promised, your body acting faster than your brain as you reached for her arm and slung it over your shoulder.

"Are you insane? You can't just–"

"You'd do it for me, wouldn't you?" The question was sharp enough to slice through the tension, time seeming to stop even if only for a second when her eyes met yours.

"Of course I would." She conceded, slowly lifting herself up as she leaned on you for support. "Megumi's gonna... kill you though."

It was one of the first time you'd really smiled in the last three days. "I think I'll be alright."

The calm was momentary though, another amethyst-colored beam tearing through the air. "Hold onto me." You said, tightening your grip around her waist.

Shattered stone cascaded around the two of you, your breath catching in your throat as the cursed energy spiked again, sharper and heavier than before. It almost felt alive with way it twisted around your legs– that same fear, that same dread from the night Megumi had saved you creeping over you once more. The burning sensation seeped into your pores the higher up it climbed, rooting itself into your chest.

Your movements were strained, each step forward nearly knocking the wind out of you as you shielded Nobara from more falling debris, both of you crouching behind an abandoned altar.

The entrance was just within your reach if you could manage to keep yourself upright and steady, the light from the outside barely grazing the edge of the corridor. Right as you shifted your weight to stand though– a low, guttural growl reverberated across the floor sending another wave what felt like rogue electricity beneath your skin.

"Fuck," you hissed, your vision becoming blurry as you fought to keep your focus.

"Leave me here," Nobara insisted, trying but failing to shake you off of her. "Look, Yuuji's right over there, he can grab me when he–"

But her demands came to an abrupt end as the two of you became frozen in place, the curse emerging from the shadows to reveal a series of vine-like limbs and skin that resembled ancient bark. The size of it alone was enough to make your heart forget how to beat, but the second its eyes landed on you, the earth seemed to still entirely.

"What the–" Megumi's voice broke through the chaos, the weight of his stare crippling when he spotted you from across the room, his frustration and concern palpable even from where he was standing.

"Go!" He shouted, another Shikigami already forming in front of him.

The figure tilted its head as if it were studying you, the pressure of its gaze pinning you to the floor. It wasn’t just fear this time– it was something deeper, almost primal that wrapped around your spine and pulled tight as the taunting hum of its cursed energy crackled into the space between you. Its floral patterns glowing faintly in the dim light with its vines curling and writhing carefully towards you.

“Why do you fight so hard to protect something so fleeting?”

“Kugisaki!” Megumi stiffened, his hands stretched out in front of him like weapon as Nuu lunged toward the curse, but he wasn't even able make it halfway to you before a branch-like limb sprawled out and slammed the demon dog into the ground with a force that shook the foundation of the already crumbling building.

Your head felt like it was going to explode, your thoughts and emotions bleeding into each other all at once as its question repeated on an unwanted loop.

Fleeting.

“Listen to me!” Nobara’s voice suddenly felt distant, blurred by an odd sense of clarity that had started to wash over you. “Leave me here. You have to go!”

It was right– your life had been made up of nothing more than fleeting contentment and memories that weren't made to last. The things that you were trying so hard to fight for would be gone by tomorrow, just like everything else, but they were here now and so were you. If this had to be your last day with them– if losing Megumi, Yuuji, and Nobara was truly inevitable no matter what choice you made, then you'd do everything you could to protect them.

“No,” you said, the word falling from your lips before you even realized it. “I told you I’m not leaving you.”

The curse moved again, swift but intentional, closing the distance between you while its vines began to thrash, leaving more broken concrete beneath its force. Megumi yelled your name, his expression dropping as he watched the somber smile that cut across your face when your eyes met his.

"Don't!" He warned, his hands cast backout in front of him, but your mind was already made up.

You secured your grip on Nobara, forcing her to lean more heavily on you while you dragged her a few steps closer to the fragmented remains of the entrance. You were so close– just a few more feet and you could hand her off to Yuuji, who was locked in a struggle of his own ahead of you.

But close wasn’t enough.

The energy in the room surged again, its presence suddenly suffocating and absolutely everywhere as thick, sharp tendrils snared around your legs. Your body felt like it had caught fire, the white-hot heat of its touch making your vision flicker in and out as it started to pull you backward, Nobara's weight shifting dangerously against you.

Your jaw clenched, your ears ringing as you fought to garner up every ounce of strength you had left to push forward. You were desperate, every step seeming to tear something essential out of you, but still, you moved.

Another blinding wave of pain hit you– the curse’s vines snapping again, just barely missing your head as they shattered another fixture above you. It was a storm of debris and splintered wood, making it hard to tell where its limbs began and the church's destruction ended.

“Yuuji!” you screamed, your voice raw as your stare caught his. “Take her!"

He was stunned, too worn-down and short on time to argue with you.

Your adrenaline was exhausted, every part of your body ready and willing to collapse, but with one final push, you managed to shove Nobara toward the faint light spilling out through the ruined entryway.

She staggered, her legs barely holding her as Yuuji lunged forward, catching her in his arms right before she fell. It was the first time you had allowed yourself to really breathe since you'd found her, a warm sense of relief cutting through the pain.

But it didn't take long for it to vanish, the crushing reality of the curse now looming over you suddenly outweighing any amount of comfort you'd once had.

Its grip coiled tighter around your legs, your body going limp as it dragged you back once more. There was static in your veins, an overwhelming pressure pushing down on your ribs, the taste of copper filling your mouth.

This was it.

The background commotion slowly tapered down, your senses gradually disconnecting from your body as the chappel started to drift further and further away. A surreal sense of acceptance wrapped around you like a warm hug. No more fighting, no more flailing– it was just you and the comfortable abyss that you were sinking into. Just you and the memories that you were able to keep until the very end. If you had to die in one way or another tonight, at least you were able to do it knowing that you had spared him one last time.

There was a distorted fluttering feeling in your chest. A dizziness in your brain. A hazy montage of impossibly blue eyes and all the things you should've said.

And then,

it all,

faded,

to black...

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Megumi's head was throbbing when his eyes finally opened again, his stomach still in knots as he blinked back tears, trying to piece together where he’d ended up. He was sprawled out on a familiar grey leather couch with a knit blanket carefully tucked over him. The rigid winter air only amplifying his headache as it knocked against the window of his office.

“'Bout time you woke up."

His mind was overrun with the fractured pieces of what had happened, sensations and memories coming back in painful waves: The leveled church. The sound of glass shattering as he channeled his domain expansion. The feeling of your body pressed against his before everything vanished…

“Where’s..." The panic he felt was all-consuming, time coming to a grinding halt when he realized that he was the only one recovering. “Where is she...?"

Gojo's smirk was nowhere to be found, his stare softening a bit as he took a step towards him. "I talked to Shoko,"

"– And?" Megumi demanded.

"She told me about your sudden interest in Kokoro Kiri," his tone was light despite how pointed his words were, "Usually used for memory manipulation and soul severing, right? Causes the victim to forget specific people and events?"

"You know that's not what I meant–" Megumi snapped, "Is she...?" His face was flushed, his nerves completely shot as he struggled to swallow down the rest of his question. "Look, I don't care what happens to me after this, I'll take whatever punishment the higher-ups decide on, but I need to know what happened to her. Please, just..."

Gojo's demeanor was eerily calm, his hand resting easily on Megumi's shoulder as he bent down to become eye-level with him.

"If I had to guess," he paused, "She's probably still asleep."

Megumi's lips parted but the only thing that came out was a jagged exhale, his breathing coming out in short, choppy intervals. "So she's..." His head was spinning, relief and fear both clinging onto him at once. "She's okay, then? I mean, she's not...?"

"She's got some pretty deep cuts on her legs– probably gonna end up with a scar or two once she's fully healed, but other than that," A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched the life slowly return back to Megumi's eyes. "She's alright."

The tone of the room shifted into something more manageable despite the multitude of other unanswered questions that still sat between them. Megumi's hands shook slightly as he ran them over his face, images of the ruins he'd left behind coming back in flashes.

"You took down a special grade curse by yourself before I got there," Gojo said, almost sounding proud as he took a seat next to him. "I still had to clean up the aftermath of course, but..."

His stare lingered on him for a moment, the amusement in his tone fading, "She must be pretty important to you, huh? Making you tap into your full potential like that?"

Megumi hesitated, his gaze drifting to the floor as he nodded, remembering a brief conversation they'd had last year during a training session. "Yeah," he admitted quietly, "she is."

"You could've asked me for help, you know." Gojo shifted in his seat, letting out his own sigh while he rested his chin in his hands. "You should've asked me for help. You've gotta quit thinking that you can handle everything by yourself."

Megumi's jaw tightened, his words hanging heavily between them.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Gojo pressed, tilting his head at him as their eyes met again. "About the details of your contract? About the healer you've been seeing? Do you have any idea how bad that could've ended for you? For both of you, if you would've gone through with it?"

"I thought you already knew," Megumi bit back, exasperated by the fact that he was even asking in the first place. "You were there the night that I brought her back– you met me in Yaga's office after the negotiation was finalized."

Gojo looked back at him incredulously, "You honestly thought that I'd let you take on that kind of burden? From the higher-ups no less?"

His head was pounding, his thoughts clouded by an unnerving mix of exhaustion and guilt. "Yaga's never done anything in regard to me without running it by you first, even some of my missions get sent to you for approval, so why the hell would this have been any different?"

"Because you're an adult now." Gojo said simply, the gravity of his sentiment strong enough to break down Megumi's defense. "I didn't ask Yaga anything about your contract because I wanted it to be something that you handled on your own. I just figured you'd be smart enough to let me know if something went wrong."

The walls of his office felt like they were closing in on him as all of the resentment and pain that he'd been grappling with for the last five months suddenly came circling back to the true source of their existence– him. It was never you or Gojo or anyone else that had complicated his life this much, it was his own stubbornness. His refusal to accept help and admit defeat.

"I..." He faltered, his brows furrowing as he fought to keep his emotions at bay. "I'm sorry. You're right, I should've told you. I should've known when it was too much to take on alone..."

Gojo's expression softened slightly, his shoulder gently nudging his.

"Hey," He soothed, knowing better than anyone that getting an apology from Megumi– a sincere one, at that, meant something. "Growing pains are a part of life– this isn't your first and it won't be your last, but it's what makes us human. Sometimes lessons have to be hard to be remembered." 

Megumi was quiet as he took in his words, letting the familiar sense of solace have its moment.   

"Don't beat yourself up over it too much though, alright?" Gojo mused as he leaned back, lazily stretching his hands behind his head. "Your face is rough enough as is and I hear there's a cute girl waiting for you down in Shoko's office."

A small smile crept across Megumi's face as he nodded before getting to his feet.

"Oh and– and Megumi? One last thing."

He paused, his hand resting on the door handle as he looked back at him from over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"We can go over the details later when you're not so," he gestured vaguely towards his tattered appearance, "Half-dead," he said flippantly, "But she's staying just so you know. No strings attached other than her maintaining her cover story while she's here, but aside from that, the contract is null and void– for both of you."

He froze, his pupils doubling in size as he stared back at him in disbelief. "How did you...?"

"10 million yen and a few offhanded threats tend to go a long way in the sorcerer world." He shrugged. "That, and the fact that we'll have her as an assistant once she graduates. Continuing to room with her is optional, but–" His smirk returned with playful ease. "I figured you wouldn't be in a hurry to kick her out just yet."

There was a part of him that was afraid if he blinked for too long, he'd wake up slumped against a rutted pillar with nothing but debris and ash surrounding him again. His throat tightened, trying his best to ground himself as he hesitated at the doorway.

"Thank you, Gojo." He finally managed. "For everything."

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The next few days were a blur of pain medication, sleep, and holding Megumi's hand as he dozed off in the armchair next to you. He would end up in what looked like the most uncomfortable pretzel-like positions, but he still refused to leave your side no matter how many times you tried to tell him that it was okay if he wanted to go back to the dorm instead.

Aside from the occasional injured first-year that would wander in every so often, the medical ward was strangely peaceful. Your mornings were spent listening to Shoko explain various healing techniques while redressing the bandages on your legs. Checking to make sure that your body was responding to treatment the way it was supposed to while Megumi watched intently, taking mental notes for himself just in case he'd need them later.

Your afternoons were filled with visitors after word got out about how you'd sacrificed yourself to save Nobara against –what you'd later learned from Gojo– was a curse named Hanami. She was still recovering too, but her healing process had been a lot more sped-up than yours with her body being more acclimated to the effects of cursed energy. Yuuji brought you fresh flowers every day– big, well-thought arrangements with all of your favorite colors. "You'll tell her that these are from me, right?" He'd tease Megumi. "Don't want you takin' credit for my hard work."

While you knew that Gojo had managed to revoke the terms of your contract, the weight of it still hadn't fully left you. There were nights that you'd wake up in cold sweats, tears streaming down your face as you'd find yourself frantically reaching out for Megumi's hand. "I'm here," he'd whisper, "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."

It wasn't until you'd been released and the two of you were finally back in your room that things actually started to feel somewhat solidified. There wasn't the same looming sense of dread that used to follow you. There wasn't the constant weight of abandonment clawing at your chest.

There was just him and the way his hands felt grazing your jawline as he kissed you. The way that he tried so hard to be so delicate with you despite the pent-up fire behind his stare every time he touched you.

"Megumi," you breathed, pulling him closer as the morning sun began to seep in from the window. "I'm not made of glass." You reminded him, your fingers tangling into his hair.

HIs hands were still lingering on your waist, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he looked back at you through heavy lashes. "You'll tell me if it's too much?"

There was something about the care in his eyes, the way he always put you first, even when his own restraint was clearly hanging on by a thread. You cupped his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek as you nodded. "Promise."

His grip on you tightened, the palm of his hand warm against the side of your neck before his tongue parted your lips again.

You could feel the shift of him starting to let go, the way his hand roamed from your neck to your lower back with his movements becoming more and more fervent. Breathy little noises filling the space between you while he helped you out of your shorts and tossed them to the side of his bed.

His forehead pressed against yours, his eyes tentatively trailing over you as he lined himself up with your entrance. It was the very last wall he had left, one that he never thought he'd be able to fully tear down until now.

He couldn't stop the low moan that escaped him as he slid into you, watching how your pupils dilated as you looked back at him with trust that he still wasn't sure he deserved. The words were right there, right where they'd always been, steady and terrifyingly honest.

He drew in a breath, letting himself sink into you, noting the way your body held him tighter the further he went. It had always been you. His hand shook slightly, using his thumb to tilt your head up towards his while his hips met yours with the same deep, consuming pace. It would always be you.

His lips parted, his mind slipping as he finally let go completely and buried everything he had in you,

"I love you."

It was soft but impossibly sure as it brushed across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth you didn't even know existed in its wake. There was suddenly no such thing as holding back– not the tears that were pricking at the corners of your eyes or the feelings that you'd tried so hard to control for the last six months. He was everywhere, embedded into every single part of you.

It settled over your chest, opening up like a floodgate once it began– "I love you." you breathed, your nails digging into his neck."I love you." you whimpered again as your back arched beneath him. "I love you." he panted, his hands firm against your hips as your walls began to unravel around him. "I love you." you cried, letting yourself fall apart for him entirely.

"I love you, I love you, I love you..."

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

[just-some-little-lads]

His Favorite Place to Kiss

Hey, all! First official post I've made for LaDS! So I'm sorry if the personalities aren't quite as spot on (I'll learn more about Xavier, I promise)! Can you tell who my favorite is? Oops. Second person POV and a gender neutral MC!

Xavier

Your eyelids. As a cozy lover himself, he adores the way you look so peaceful when you sleep. So cuddly and…perfect in his eyes, even if you can’t always see it yourself. Oftentimes, he finds he stays awake longer than normal when you relax so languidly beside him. All he wants is to take the stress and troubles away from your life. That way, you can look like this always. But he knows he’s not capable of shielding you all the time… So, in moments like these, he keeps you safe in his own arms, letting you escape into the comfort of a dream. Then he’ll take a moment, pressing whispers of a kiss to your closed eyelids while you rest. It’s a little ritual he does, hoping it’ll chase any nightmares away.

-

Zayne

Your forehead. It had started with checking your temperature; the back of his hand against your head. An overprotective gesture he’d do often outside of the hospital. One which you didn’t always mind since it was better than him carrying a thermometer on him at all times. The closer you got, the more the gesture shifted to him pressing his forehead against yours instead. Then eventually developed into a kiss. It’s a reassurance for him in a way. He loves being able to do something so loving and protective at the same time. He’ll lean down and spend a quiet moment kissing your forehead before placing his chin on the top of your head, bringing you in close. A much needed habit now. Knowing your temperature is normal is a sigh of relief as well. One less thing to worry about. Because seeing you in good health is his only real wish…

-

Rafayel

Your hands. An artist’s fascination with hands might seem like a cliché, but with him, it’s true. He takes very good care of his hands, needing them to hold paintbrushes after all. He’s always said that he can tell a lot of a person just from their fingers, and it’s hard to tell if he’s exaggerating his capabilities or if it’s another secret superpower of his. A lot of times, he’ll tease you over the callouses you have from your weapons, saying that he’d just die if something so unsightly happened to his. But there are plenty of days when you come in with cuts or bruised knuckles, making him freeze. He’ll hold your hands tenderly in his and kiss your palms. He claims there’s some sort of “magic” to it, but how cheesy is that? It’s even more cheesy to think that it sort of works…

-

Sylus

Your neck. He’ll say this loud and proudly with a bit of a tease in his tone. He’ll say it’s something about the way he likes to “dominate his prey” or whatever condescending nonsense he always blathers on about. He likes to laugh about the story he tried telling you a while ago, and how you related him to a vampire. The joke has gone rather far if that’s the case. What he won’t tell anyone is how absolutely dumbfounded he is every time he gets to kiss your neck. He knows how vulnerable of a spot it is, and he's more than well aware of the terrible things that could happen if someone were to take advantage of this weakness. And yet…you trust him. Despite the…’rocky’ beginning and the distrust and the constantly being on edge around each other, somehow he’d done enough to earn your favor. Part of him wants to teach you to better have your guard up, but he can’t do such a thing. Every time he plants his kiss against the side of your neck and all you do is laugh or hum, he wants to melt, to scoop you up into his arms and never let you go. And he likes when you touch his neck too…because it reminds him that he’s learned to trust someone again.

[saetoshi]

“should i order something for dinner?”

sae glances up at you before looking back at his phone, frowning. “no sé.”

you bite back an aggravated sigh, brows knitting in annoyance at his response.

recently, sae has developed the habit of speaking in spanish when he’s mad at you.

(he used to give you the cold shoulder, but he realized it started to backfire when you ignored him in return, so he settled for making sure you had a hard time understanding what he was saying instead.)

you lean against the couch, “how do you feel about getting some pizza?”

he doesn’t look at you, “no quiero.”

you make a face, “stop being so difficult.”

he turns to look at you sticking his tongue out, his brows knit in anger.

a frustrated sigh leaves your lips, your head dropping against the couch cushions. “you can’t stay mad at me forever!”

“sí puedo.” your eyes close in annoyance when you feel him glaring at you.

you lift your head up to look at him, glaring back. “i already apologized!”

“it wasn’t sincere!” he huffs, angrily turning away from you and crossing his arms.

a triumphant hum leaves your lips, a satisfied grin settling on your lips. sae turns to look at you with thinly-veiled curiosity.

a mocking huff of laughter slips past your lips and you stick your tongue out at him in satisfaction, “you stopped speaking in spanish.”

his face flushes, his eyes widening in realization before he glares at you again. “no i didn’t!”

“you did it again!” you hide your mouth behind your hands in a feeble attempt to hide your laughter.

a pout grows on his lips, the tips of his ears flushing, “…mentira.”

you slump against the couch, “what are you even mad for anyway?”

sae makes a face, looking away from you. his brows furrow even further as you stare at his cheek.

“…no sé.” his voice is laced with embarrassment, the tips of his ears a bright red as his cheeks slowly flush.

(you don’t need to know what he’s saying to conclude he doesn’t even know why he’s mad. it’s somehow even more annoying.)

confused frustration writes itself in your face, “why are you still being so petty, then?”

“i’m mad at you over something!” he groans, running a hand down his face.

“you wanna know what i think?” you smile.

“no.” you think it’s funny how he still says it in spanish.

you lean closer to him, “i think you should stop being mad at me.”

he gives you a look. “no thanks.”

“sae,” you lean even closer, pouting, “i’m sorry.”

he turns to you, raising a brow, “sorry for what?”

there’s a best of silence.

“you don’t even know what you’re sorry for!” sae glares.

you glare back, “you don’t either!”

his face flushes a deep red. he looks away from you, pausing for a second before glancing at you shyly, “te odio.”

you roll your eyes. “whatever.”

(you also don’t need to tell him you’ve started picking up on what his words mean. or that you’ve started to secret my learn a few of them.

it’d be a shame if he learned yet another language just to be petty.)

“you don’t know what you did?” he looks at you, pouting.

“not really.” you blink, crossing your arms, “do you?”

his lips curl into a fine line, his face flushing before he clears his throat in embarrassment. “not really.” (you think it’s cute how he repeats your words.)

you playfully poke his cheek. “how about we forget what you were mad at me about and order food already?”

he cracks a small smile, “depends on what we’re getting.”

“whatever you want.” you cheekily smile at him.

(you both know he’ll end up choosing whatever you’re craving.)

a sigh leaves your lips when you stretch your arms out, reaching for your phone. “you’re cute when you’re speaking spanish.”

“oh yeah?” he sounds smug. it makes you almost want to forgive him for being petty. (but you won’t.)

a smile blooms on your lips your eyes sparkling with mischief as the words slip out of your mouth, “totalmente.”

(you wish you’d taken a picture of his shocked face.)

[bridgetotheskyyy]

Filthy Clean

cw: You and Levi have a clean rivalry lmaoo. levi x f! reader, smut, 18+, shower sex, fingering, face slapping, slight cum play, mild dubcon, praise kink, cum swallowing, creampie. I HATE posting fics on tumblr with a passionnnn but I thought you guys would enjoy this one. I posted this to ao3 a while ago but I'm still in my levi era lmaoo. wc 6.9k.

Men were disgusting.

The dirt the younger cadets trudged into the barracks and lounging areas did not discriminate, but the filth the male cadets managed to accumulate was truly unmatched. Beds unmade, toilets unflushed, and had none of them heard of a fucking coaster? 

Or a napkin?

You leaned farther so your swiping hand might reach the table’s full breadth. You wiped in wide, angry circles. You’d be here for ages trying to get the grime off the table, gathering the courage needed to tackle the bathrooms. 

“Ugh.” Your washcloth came across something unidentifiably sticky. “Fucking gross …”

So consumed were you with your task you did not see the hand come to meet yours until it was too late, and your pinkies met.

You blinked.

“Oi.”

You looked up to see a dark-haired man fixing you with a glare, the majority of his face obscured by a handkerchief.

“What are you doing?” 

You frowned. “Cleaning this table.”

The man straightened. “Well” — he snatched your washcloth from your grasp — “you’re doing a shitty job.”

“Hey!”

“Just let me do it.”

“It’s my job.”

“Hah?” A brow raised in question your way. “Someone’s paying you to do such a shitty job?”

“I’m not!” You were truly flustered now. “I’m doing as good of a job as I can with how filthy people are here!”

“Tch.”  The man’s sharp eyes cast down to the table. “That we can agree on.”

“And” — you grabbed your cloth — “you shouldn’t take what isn’t yours.”

You ignored the heat of the man’s appraisal. He can stare at my ass all he likes. You hummed. “Who are you anyway?” You asked, layering the wooden table with more solution. 

His eyes widened. “How do you not …?”

“I don’t keep tabs on everybody in this infernal regiment.” You scrubbed angrily at the sticky table — was it fucking gum or something? “So, I wouldn’t know if  you were famous.”

You looked up in time to see the man undo his handkerchief to reveal —

You froze.

Levi. Ackerman.

The Levi Ackerman.

Captain Levi Ackerman.

… Fuck.

“Oh my god …” You straightened, suddenly feeling foolish with the supplies in your hands. “Captain …”

“How the hell do you not know who I am?”

“You —“ You stammered. What should you do? Should you put down the cloth? Should you leave? Fuckfuckfuck. “I — You had that …” You gestured to the handkerchief. “That thing on your face!”

“The handkerchief doesn’t cover up my voice.”

You gobbed like a fish, face flushed from embarrassment. “I —“

“Tch, it’s fine,” he waved you off. “Just let me tackle this room — or stay; you might learn something.”

The humiliation was almost too much. Almost.

“Sir.” You cleared your throat, arm akimbo. “I’m very sure I know what I’m doing.”

Another inquisitive eyebrow. “That so?”

You recognized the challenge in his voice and stretched the cloth — flack — with a tilt of your head. “Yeah,” You said, the edge of your mouth twitching to add, “sir.”

Levi straightened himself again to his full height (which wasn’t much) and took three intimidating steps toward you. You stood your ground as he reared on you, looking you dead in the eye: 

“We’ll see about that.”

After that, you were sure you’d be fired. 

You’d been fired by (figuratively) smaller men for far less. The others cleaning girls were in a tizzy that, somehow, you had squared off with Humanity’s Strongest and were ravenous for developments as soon as you had something to tell. You weren’t sure you’d last that long. Surely you’d be getting canned any moment now.

But instead something far more bizarre was happening: it seemed you were now in a cleaning war with the squad captain of the Special Operations Squad. 

Everywhere you went, the work was already done. Walls scrubbed. Floorboards wiped. Curtains dusted. Limestone’s ass kicked. Even the heinous bathrooms had been tackled by a brave, meticulous set of hands — and you had an inkling those hands were calloused and attached to a pipsqueak.

Your suspicions were only confirmed when a tale of the captain scrubbing one of the barracks had reached you. Apparently, Levi’d done a stunning job — until he noticed a fucking boot print on his flawless floor. All the trembling cadets were rounded up to find a boot match like a scene from some fairy tale, and eventually the print was proven to belong to none other than Eren Jaeger. 

Why was it always fucking Eren Jeager.

By the end of the second week of this cleanathon, you were sprinting to the currently unused dining hall, slamming the doors opened: 

Tables glistened, floors polished … You turned your head to the windows … windows you could use as  fucking mirrors — 

“Son of a bitch!” You shot arms to your sides before storming out, two cadets making way for you. 

Sunday evening, the horse stables were all you had left; you shuffled hay and tended to the equine beauties as best you could, spurred on now by a newfound enthusiasm for your job. By sundown, the hay was stacked, the floors were wiped, the cedar like brand new. 

“Ha! Could be someone’s living quarters.” You turned, satisfied, to the horses with hands at your hips. “Not too shabby, huh?”

One of them huffed at you, blowing hair from your face.

“You must be his,” You scoffed before exiting the stables.

You were proud, but you were tired. The showers were empty by the time you stepped into one to use, pleasantly ignoring the suspicious sheen with which everything glistened as you wheeled the knob to hot. You sighed as water fit to rival hellfire rained down on your aching muscles. You lathered and rinsed, fit to remove the day’s grime. 

Another labored sigh. Finally, some time to — 

The door burst open. You shrieked, spun, covering yourself.

“Get out —!”

“Relax.” Levi, of all people, stepped into view. “It’s just me.”

“My order still stands! Get outwhatthehellareyoudoing —“

“I give the orders.”

Realizing he wouldn’t leave, you scoffed, spinning back toward the shower head. “Can’t believe this,” you murmured. “I can’t wait to report this and let everyone know the captain is a perv —“

“I said relax,” Levi said, not a step out of place (beyond the obvious). “I won’t do anything.”

“Oh, what a comfort …”

“… You did a good job today.”

You blinked, forearms still crisscrossed over your chest. Was that a compliment? You tilted your head, as disturbed as you were intrigued. “Come again?”

“You do have some skills when it comes to cleaning, I’ll give you that,” Levi droned from behind. “Peroxide with a hint of lemon? Definitely more than a rookie.”

Fuck. Even his compliments were nestled in insults. “And this couldn’t wait until after I took a shower?”

Soft rustling; you could only imagine him crossing his arms, staring at your naked back. “I wanna to see if you keep it up.”

What did that mean? You looked down at the nest of suds cradled in your cleavage. And you understood: he wanted to watch you clean yourself. 

“You’re a weirdo.” You shook your head. But, understanding he wouldn’t leave, hardened yourself to this new challenge. You wouldn’t be intimidated. You carried on as though no one were watching, finishing what you had started. 

“You’re doing it wrong,” he spoke up as you bent down to lather a leg.

“Shut —“ You froze, sucking your lips into your mouth. “Sir …” You couldn’t abuse him … he was still a captain … Why did that matter he was fucking watching you take a shower — 

“Tch.” There was that odd sound from him again, but was it just you or was it now tinged with amusement. “Think we’re beyond formalities now, don’t you think?”

You didn’t answer. Your face grew hot as you rose to full height, allowing the shower water to wash the accumulated suds away. You didn’t know what you thought; you were mildly dizzy, the heat and situation doing something to you. Why were you letting this happen, letting a man watch you shower?

… Why were you liking it?

You were about to turn and face Levi to get out when he clicked his teeth:

“Fine, I’ll do it myself.”

You saw Levi grasp your shoulder. You gasped, nearly slipping as you turned, at last, to face him. 

“Wait,” You said as your back hit the wall. 

But he was there, fully clothed, the shower water getting his hair and uniform wet.

“You’re …” You watched him get drenched. “You’re all wet now.”

Levi’s eyes flickered to yours. “So are you.”

Your lips parted but no words came. Dark strands clung to his face now, and you refused to admit how good he looked. His hands were on you — hands much softer than they should’ve been. He swiped the washcloth from you, threw it away. Levi took the soap from you and treated your skin to a thorough lathering with his bare hands. Calloused hands that should’ve been rough and harsh caressed your neck.

“People always forget their neck,” Levi murmured.

Lines of foam ran down the valley of your breasts, to your stomach. Suds nestled in your belly button as Levi’s hands came to your sides and tugged, motioning for you to turn over.

You made to protest — didn’t. Wordlessly, you turned around for him. His hands cleansed you of the sweat accumulated in your crevices. He massaged into your back, caressed the tension from your shoulders. Levi’s thumb dipped in the small of your back and you suppressed a sound, whatever it had turned into unknown to you and him both. Your trembling hands pressed to the wall when you sensed him bend forward to knead into the skin of your thigh. You squirmed, biting your lip at the moan his meticulous hands fought to elicit. Levi’s hand reached forward and grazed the pert skin of your nipple. At an honest to god moan you couldn’t repress, Levi paused. 

“I …” You kept still under his gaze. 

It was a relief when seconds later Levi resumed his ministrations. 

“Want you fucking spotless,” he said, and you believed him. His hands worked in tandem with the hot water to cleanse you. Levi worked your breasts, cupping them from behind, offering them to the water to be dowsed of suds. Fingers you knew were purposeful grazed at your excited nubs in the process. A hand, once gripped firm at your waist, breached the gap of your legs, a finger sliding over the slit of your vulva. 

You gasped through the moan. “I — I thought you said you wouldn’t do anything.”

“That was before I saw how lackluster your methods were.”

“My meth —“ You bit your lip as Levi’s finger grazed your clit. “I — I hardly see how this is supposed to help me get clean, captain.”

At the title, Levi groaned in your ear, lips brushing against your shoulder.

You ignored the thrum of pleasure in your cunt. “Why would I need to be — ah — clean from the inside?”

“Quiet.” His finger threatened to slip into your moist entrance, your natural slick assisting in this endeavor. “If you knew what you were doing, you wouldn’t be asking that.”

“I don’t think —“

“If you had a problem, you wouldn’t be fucking drenched, either.”

“Ah …” Your forehead thudded against the wall, your skin hot. Everything hot. You couldn’t argue; even the shower water couldn’t wash away evidence of your want. 

“And now you’re gonna make an even bigger fucking mess, aren’t you?”

Despite the haranguing, Levi only pressed closer, the fabric of his jacket adding friction to your damp skin. His finger teased the ring of your entrance, teasing, daring.

You moaned when Levi abandoned your hole to concentrate on teasing your clit. He tended to it with the slightest touch, so removed you began to think his touch only imagined. 

“I — I’m too achy to —“

“Do you ever shut up?” Levi snapped. “I’ve already told you.” His lips were at your ear now, his chin sitting in the crook of your neck. “Not asking for you to reciprocate. Just let me do it …”

You gripped Levi’s forearms as his finger slipped past the ring of your entrance with shameful ease. You bent forward, squeezing your legs around his hand. Your lips parted with a shuddering moan when his fingertips brushed the roof of your g-spot growing ever jagged.

“Didn’t think it would be this easy,” he spoke into your ear. “Just letting me in, hm? Fucking freak …”

You looked over your shoulder to Levi already staring at you. You did not need this. You did not need Levi, wet and close and hair dangling in his gorgeous face, mocking you.

Another finger slid in to meet the first. You clawed at the shower wall, growing feral.  

Levi withdrew them.

“Wait,” You murmured. “What?”

His brows furrowed. “Do you want this?”

You scoffed. “Really?” 

He studied your face. “Wanted to be sure,” he murmured, his arms caging you in.

You turned to face him. You pressed into him, your forehead meeting his. After all this, now he asked? But a part of you was endeared by his asking. Despite his foul mouth and gruff disposition, you didn’t fear him. 

You found his hand and guided it back to your wanting cunt. “Yes.”

Not needing to be told twice, Levi hand roped to your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. You weren’t caught by surprise; you opened your mouth for him to explore while his two fingers returned to their mission of exploring you. His groan caught in your mouth and went straight to your cunt, inciting a new layer of slick to coat Levi’s fingers.

“Thought so,” he muttered into your mouth. He abandoned your mouth just as he invited a third finger into your weeping hole, his lips traversing the length of your jaw. 

You were a moaning, sobbing mess, grinding against his fingers. You couldn’t take all this stroking, probing, stretching. The shower water pebbled your skin, the incessant dribble sensitizing your heated skin. Levi was driving his fingers into you now, assaulting the tender spot within to drive you feral. You entwined a leg around his with a whimper, your head falling against the wall to widen the expanse of skin Levi’s lips could torment. His thumb tweaked randomly at your clit, the uncertainty of when he would reward the nub with attention only driving you further toward the edge of the cliff. He nibbled, bit into your neck and you all but jumped into his arms, all dignity forgotten.

“Go ahead,” he said when you squeezed his digits, your breathing heavy on his shoulder, “bet you look pretty when you come.”

His voice, as though your climax was the most predictable thing in the world, sent you over the edge. With an onset of broken moans you came, nearly ripping the arms from Levi’s jacket as he finger-fucked you through your orgasm. You drenched his fingers, saw through vision bleared by water and steam and drowse, how they had turned pruney playing in your snatch once Levi at last pulled them out of you. He held you up with a hand, your legs turned boneless and useless under your lasting throes. 

Levi inspected his fingers as you caught your breath. He bent down to retrieve your abandoned washcloth and wiped his fingers clean. 

“Levi …” You murmured as he did it, your senses returning slowly but surely. “What …?”

He turned back to you, fixing your back against the wall again as he captured your mouth in another kiss, not as rough as the first, but affirmative. A statement. He withdrew and you, eyes closed, followed him until you realized he was truly through with the kiss and opened your eyes. 

He wiggled his fingers, almost to taunt you. “I was right,” he said, a flicker of a smirk there. “Fucking pretty.”

You’d lost all control over your life. 

Afterwards, you often found yourself frequenting the same spaces with Levi, places you were meant to be cleaning but would end up as sanctuaries so Levi might fuck you into oblivion inside them.

More than once you’d cried out as he crashed you into the wall, arms wrapped around each other, passion overcoming dull reason always.

“Levi!”

“Keep it down!” he would hiss in your ear before nibbling the lobe attached. “Want the whole headquarters to hear us fucking?”

And then you would clean. Thoroughly. Meticulously. There were never any traces of your sudden trysts, you both made sure of that.

What was happening? You weren’t sure. It wasn’t as if you were suddenly the captain’s girlfriend or something. Right?

Right?

… Right?

“Are you the captain’s girlfriend?”

You startled away from Potato Girl, who had somehow materialized by your side, nearly falling off the step you sat on in the process. 

“Sasha!” Jean Kirstein reprimanded. He graced you with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry about her.” To Sasha: “You can’t just sneak up on people you don’t know and ask them —“

“But it’s clear something’s going on, isn’t it?” Sasha said. “I heard Mike say the other day that —!”

“No!” You cried. Do these fuckers do anything but gossip? You were reminded of your grandmother, who had once said the military was nothing but death and gossip. “No, you — you don’t understand. The captain and I — we’re just friends. We like cleaning, that’s all.”

Jean’s blush belied his nod toward you. “You don’t have to explain anything.”

“Aw, c’mon!” Sasha said. “Captain Levi would fall head over heels for a girl who can clean as well as you!”

Jean ran a hand over his face. “Sasha …” Exasperation made his voice heavy.

“It’s okay,” You assured him before turning to Sasha with a smile, your voice fit for addressing a child when you said, “The truth is, I don’t know why Captain Levi’s taken such a liking to me. I’m just happy to make him proud. But I promise: nothing untoward has ever occurred between the captain and myself.”

How well you could lie through your teeth. Should you be proud or ashamed? Untoward … Levi’s fingers sank into your cunt; his cockhead twitching on your cervix; a mouth full of —

Boy, could you lie.

Sasha scrutinized your face. Seemingly satisfied, she said, with a disappointed dip in her voice, “All right. But tell us if that changes! We want the best for the captain and only want him to be happy!”

Strangely heartwarmed by her comment, you nodded to the both of them. “You got it!” 

And you’d thought that would be the end of it, but it wasn’t; you were doomed to have a couple more run-ins with members of the Special Operations: a few cadets once eyed you surreptitiously in the hallway. And on the last day of the week while on your way to dust the shelves of the library, a little blonde boy caught sight of you and promptly scurried away, a book tucked in his armpit, leaving the library hilariously bare.

“Oh, come on!” You said, the lack of people affording you moxy. “If I was really fucking a captain, don’t you think I’d have gotten a raise by now? Hello?!”

“You wanted to see me, Commander?”

Levi shut the door. The moment Levi walked into the Commander’s office, he knew what he was in for. Erwin wasn’t alone; Hange was ready to bounce off the walls. Mike looked like he was suppressing some laughs. Levi let himself in; eyes made of ice appraised his every step.

“Have a seat, Levi,” was all Erwin said, and once he did the man knitted his fingers together. “I’ve heard rumors.”

“Tch, didn’t think you were the type to listen to shitty gossip.”

“More than rumors, I would say.”

Levi raised his brows to encourage elaboration.

“There have been complaints.”

“Of?”

“You and some cleaning girl hooking up!” Hange cried out — happily. 

Without a beat, Levi tilted his head: “What?”

“There has been a shortage in cleaning supplies,” Erwin said. “Some cadets have complained about headaches. Some have reported breathing issues. Some have fainted.”

Levi glared. “They’re allergic to everything except filth, then?”

“I’m told chemicals from the cleaning solutions are the cause,” Erwin continued, leafing through what could only be reports from this very issue.

“The morons can always open a fucking window.”

“Still, there’s such a thing as too clean, Levi,” Erwin said. “Some have begun to speculate why there’s been such an uptick in cleanliness. It seems … suspicious.”

“Tch.”

Erwin’s eyes flicked upward expectantly. “I’ve not heard you deny anything.”

“There’s nothing to deny.” Levi crossed his legs. “I help her clean when I have the time, that’s it.”

Hange squealed. “Oh, this is fascinating ��!”

“ — You’d think so,” Levi shifted his glare toward her.

“A friendship forged from alcohol!” Hange chirped. “I’m such a fool; I should’ve predicted something like this would happen!”

“Nothing’s happened, you fucking weirdo,” Levi said.

Mike had failed to comment thus far, sticking to his corner of the room, but his shoulders rumbled with hushed laughs. Fucking prick.

“Hm?” Hange stood. “Oh really? Tell me, then: If you’re just cleaning, why are there reports of moving furniture?” 

“We have to move furniture to get to spots people forget to clean, moron,” Levi said pointedly, crossing arms now. “If these idiots spent as much time training as they did gossiping, fewer of them would be eaten every expedition.”

“Nevertheless, we can’t have you and this girl making hazardous gases in your attempts to clean headquarters,” Erwin said. “Be more discriminate with how you use your supplies. I don’t want to hear any more complaints about this, am I understood?”

A curt nod from Levi. 

A snort from Mike. “I bet she’s cute.”

“I bet you’d look better without a nose, Mike,” Levi said, standing. “And, Commander, I think you should address some of the rumors concerning yourself.”

It was Erwin’s turn to raise his fatass eyebrows. “Pardon?”

“I don’t know.” Levi was already striding toward the door. “Something about you and some nurse.” He turned back to Erwin, hand on the knob. “Can’t be true, can it?”

Hange gasped. Mike choked. Erwin himself, surprising no one, moved not an inch, only dug knives into Levi’s disappearing back as he considered himself excused and shut the door behind him.

He wouldn’t give in. He couldn’t lose his cleaning fuck buddy. Not now. Not ever. No one had understood his desire to eradicate filth as well as you.

He would just have to have a little conversation with you.

“You make too much noise.” 

Hardly the statement you were looking forward to. Where was you feel so good? Your precious good girl?

You broke the kiss, subtracting your tongue from inside Levi’s mouth, to stare at him crookedly. 

“Come again?” 

“S’you,” Levi said, the flush coloring his face as conspicuous as day. “People are talking around these shitty barracks. We’ll have to cool it if you can’t keep your fucking mouth shut.”

You snorted while resuming your task: unbuttoning Levi’s shirt. You dipped forward to snatch one button between your teeth where it waited to be chewed off. You broke away to nibble at the skin beyond it once it snapped open. “Shut me up then.”

“Fuck …” Levi said in response to your slutty hips swinging into his, your teeth leaving love bites over his protruding collar. “Do you have to make everything so difficult?”

“This is your fault, you know?” You ground your hips into Levi’s obvious erection and was promptly rewarded with a delicious groan. His hand came around to grip the fat of your ass. You licked a wet strip onto his neck before nibbling the skin there. “If you didn’t” — another swing of your hips, another groan from Levi — “fuck me so good, my volume wouldn’t be such a problem.” 

“Not apologizing.” 

You leveled your face with his. “Then we’re at an impasse.” And you kissed him, slotting your tongue back into place above his. 

Levi stole air from your mouth when your hand slotted between the two of you, found the heavy imprint of his cock and gave it a firm squeeze. Levi pressed you closer to him, a firm grip on your ass. He swiped up at your tongue before nibbling on your lower lip and repeating the action with its twin. 

“You really want your slutty mouth exposing us to the world?” Levi grumbled, no doubt begrudgingly aware of how his cock twitched in your hold. 

“I really don’t care,” You said. “But I guess I don’t have as much to lose, right, Captain?” 

He jerked you away by the back of your head, hand fisted in your hair. “You’re out of line.”

A grumble in his throat at the sight of your tongue running over your lip. 

“Says the man who walked in on me showering.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed, as if to say touche.

“Maybe you’re right.” He met your eye, fixing his face neutral. “Maybe I need to shut you up.”

“Oh.” You wiggled your brows. “Levi.”

“On your knees.”

You giggled — stifled it when Levi tapped your cheek with barely any force but enough to threaten a harder hand in the future. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself, brat.” 

And so you sank, remaining eye contact as you sat on your knees and fiddled with the buckle of Levi’s pants. You freed his cock, was rewarded with a soft grunt from him — and one slightly louder when you fed his cock into your mouth, wiggling your eyebrows at him again. 

“Even with your mouth stuffed with my cock, you’re still giving me attitude?” Levi huffed, but there was no bite to it.

The edge of your mouth quirked before focusing on your task. You gave Levi a hard, fruitful suck before releasing him with a loud, wet pop! to run the flat of your tongue down the underside of his cock. From base to tip. Base to tip. You swallowed him again, hollowing your cheeks to work his cock. Excitement flushed your cunt as Levi’s grunts filled the air, and your fingers itched to sneak down and play with your juicing folds. 

A groan from Levi. An encouraging hand met the back of your head. “Fuck, good, little brat …” His hanging his head back sent your cunt clenching at nothing.

You released him, curled stroking fingers around his shaft. “Who’s the loud one now?” You teased with a smirk — 

You gasped when Levi’s hand swatted your cheek. Harder than before. A tepid warning.

“Finish what you started.”

You opened your mouth to get smart with him, only for the hand straddling the back of your head to pull you forward; Levi’s cock tumbled back into your mouth. 

Your eyes fluttered closed. Your hands stroked the end of his shaft, pubic hair tickling your pinkie, as your mouth lay preoccupied with the rest. Levi’s sounds impelled you to move faster. You didn’t care about the aching pain in your jaw or your screaming knees on the wooden floor. You sucked for those sounds, for the power you held over him in that moment. 

“This is a better look for you anyway,” Levi said — hissed as one hand came to cling to his naked thighs, the other thumbing at his ball sack. “Fuck, clean my cock, brat.”

You weren’t his brat. Nor were you one of his cadets he ordered around, but your cunt fluttered around the words all the same. The way he was so determined to playfully shame you, when he was the one to jump you and sink his fingers into your cunt? 

Levi assisted in your head bobbing, his fingers nestled in your hair. “Give it a spit shine, show me how fucking good you are at your job, cumdump.”

You parted with his cock to obey, to spit on the veiny shaft. You thinned out the spit with your palm before introducing him back into your mouth. You moaned around Levi’s cock, the vibrations around his member causing him to do the same. 

Fuck. You couldn’t take it; you led a hand between your thighs, startled at how sensitive you were to your own touch when your fingers circled against the damp clutch of your panties. 

“Playing with yourself while you suck me off …” He hissed when you sank forward, his cockhead tickling, threatening the sanctity of your uvula. “Depraved little slut.”

Levi clutched your head firmer to steady you and started thoroughly fucking your mouth. You gasped, choked, the rapid tousling of your head clouding your senses. Your eyes pebbled with tears. You ran a fingertip down your clothed slit, the seam of your panties wet from your want. You moaned as Levi did. Your lips tightened around the span of him. You raised to the challenge, sucking harshly as he bucked into your willing mouth. 

“Ah, fuck,” he hissed. You cracked an eye open to see Levi’s hips stutter, his other hand bracing against the table.

“Mmm!” You were so hot. You worked your clit harder before realizing you didn’t have to cheat yourself slid a hand past the elastic of your panties, slipping fingers through your folds. 

“Don’t you dare flake on me,” Levi said. “We just cleaned these floors; take every last drop.”

You didn’t need him to tell you what to do; you knew your role now. Levi slowed his pace to allow you to take over. You rose on your knees, gripped one of his ass cheeks to hold him close. A soft gasp from Levi as you ran your tongue over the vein on the underside of his cock, coaxing him to coming. You felt it twitch, excited and abused in your hot, wet mouth. 

“Fuck, fuck —“ Levi growled, gripped the side of the table. “Every drop, you little cumcatcher —!”

Levi fisted your hand as he spilled into your mouth. You closed your eyes to it, clinging to his shaft to pull him back and allow your mouth much needed space. Levi fed you his pants, his hurried breaths quickening your heart. His cockhead sat on the flat of your tongue while ropes of cum ran down the length of it. You obeyed his command, swallowing every drop, letting him use you as the little cum dispenser he wanted you to be. You wanted to be for him.

Your jaw screamed with relief when Levi left your mouth. A bridge of saliva connected you to his spent member and you promptly wiped it away before it could threaten the sanctity of Levi’s perfectly polished floors.

He looked down at you, his stoicism softened by fondness. He stroked the cheek he’d previously abused. “Good girl.”

You purred. “Only for you.”

“Hm.”

You stood and pecked him inches above his ever-scowling eyebrow. “That’s all you have to say? After all that huffing and puffing you —?”

Levi’s hand met the back of your neck and pulled you close, glaring right into your eyes. “You’re running your shitty fucking mouth before I can even reward you.”

Your brow raised in interest. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Levi jerked his head toward his bedroom. “Let’s finish this.”

You gaped in surprise. “But we just cleaned the sheets!”

“And you’re not about to get them dirty again. Right?” Levi stared pointedly at you before leaning into your throat, giving it a soft but prompt nibble. He pulled away as you hummed. “Right?”

You ran your tongue over your lip, batting intrigued eyes at him for a second. He really was an eccentric weirdo. You wordlessly complied, strolling into the bedroom to get into place for him. Levi followed, pulling you toward him. One hand yanked you to him by your shirt, dragging you into a kiss. You gasped at the sudden action. His force pressed the bed into the back of your knees and you clumsily sat. Levi worked your shirt away before hooking a hand down the elastic of both your trousers and panties. 

He peered down at your lower half, mildly amused. “Bet you’re already dripping after playing with yourself while sucking me off, fucking freak …”

You giggled, your rebuttal your raised, pruney fingers. 

Levi gripped your wrist. “Filthy …” He brought your fingers to his mouth — jerked the two articles of clothing fisted in his grip to hook at the back of your knees. The tiniest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips at your widened eyes, your tiny gasp.

Levi tossed away your clothes. He slotted into the new space between your legs. You ran your fingers over his plump lower lip as he fished for his cock, and pride flared in you to feel he was already hard again, your teasing sufficient enough to make him stand at attention.

“We — ahh …” You furrowed your brows at the feel of Levi’s cock sheathing inside you. You sighed. Tried again. “We’re going to make a mess for sure.”

“We’re not going to make a mess,” Levi corrected before inserting himself fully, thrusting to the hilt and, over your moan, “You’re going to take it.”

You didn’t wonder because you didn’t need to; his tacit answer, coming in the form of another pointed look up at you, had been enough for understanding to flourish like moss on stone. He was going to fill you up, leave you so full of his cum he would surely pull out of you squeaky clean, every precaution you might’ve taken against pregnancy be damned. The insinuation sent flutters to your cunt you were sure Levi could feel around his cock, were sure he could feel the effect he had on you. Your final confirmation being that he was still fully clothed, as though confident you would not sully him even as he ruined you.  

Levi quickened his pace in such a way you were forced to grab ahold to his shoulders. “Fu — Is that so? Mm!”

“Yeah — fuck,” Levi muttered in your ear. “As you said, we just fucking cleaned these sheets, and there’s no way they’re getting dirty again just because you can’t control your disgusting sobbing snatch.”

You wanted to slap him — wanted to throw his insults and his eager cock in his face — and your hand itched to do so, but as he found his rhythm you couldn’t; he fucked you hard into the mattress, barely breaking a sweat as he barreled into you. A hand flew to constrict your throat, sinking you down further and thus making it easier for him to bully into you. Levi brought his face close to yours as his hips went wild, giving you a taste of that Ackerman strength you had heard so much about.

“Ah — uh —!” You moaned, your eyes falling closed as your mouth slacked wide. “Levi — Levi!” 

You cracked eyes open to see Levi’s face strained from his efforts above you. Another flutter down below struck to see how much of an effect you were having on him. You loved him like this; the sarcastic, stoic know-it-all you’d come to know melting away until he was just a man enthralled with your pussy. You looped arms around his, bracing your hands at his back. A hand grazed your mons pubic and three fingers at your clit had you choking a moan. 

“Come on,” You urged. “Oh.” You shuddered when Levi flicked at your clit every which way in response. “I’ll be such a good girl for you and take it, mm …”

“Fucking noisy brat, nrgh!” The hand Levi had roped over your throat tightened. “Using my own words against me …”

First your arms then your legs wrapped around him — only to aid in flipping him on his back. The world whirled around you as you came out on top. Levi choked back a sound of surprise as you mounted him. You looked down at him with a smirk.

“The fuck you think you’re doing?” He said, an aimless hand groping at your tit.

“Being a good girl.” You let yourself down on him, basked in the triumph coming in the form of Levi’s relieved groan beneath you. “I wanna show you how good I can take it.”

Levi’s face contorted in an almost-glare he soon realized he had not the energy for when you planted hands on his chest, rebellious fingers discreetly tweaking his nipples through his uniform as you found purchase, and began to bounce on him. His eyes shut, brows furrowed as the round of your ass routinely slapped against his thighs. 

“Fuuuck.” Nails left crescent moons of your thighs. “Feels good, ugh …!” 

“Anything for you, Captain —“

“Don’t call me that.” Levi grasped harder at the junction between your thigh and ass. 

“Why?” You paused, sitting on him, opting to squeeze around him as you did so. Levi grunted, bucked up in response. “It doesn’t have an effect, does it?” 

“Fuck, read the room —“ Levi’s eyes trained on where you two met in the middle, your sopping snatch routinely coming to devour him. “Clearly, I’m not your captain, otherwise — urgh!” 

You kept fucking against him, surprised by both the agility and stamina you seemed to have in this moment. Levi’s cock split you open so good, so completely. It was growing increasingly hard to tease him as you felt yourself getting close. So close. Levi slapped your ass before taking a handful and tugging you forward. You fell onto him.

“Otherwise — oh — what?” You asked, your faces now so close as to have your noses rubbing. “You won’t let me drain your cock of every last drop?” 

Levi’s knuckles had to be white from how tight his hold now was on you. He groaned, biting down on his lip as his forehead met yours. 

“I don’t care about the rules,” You said, voice sounding more desperate than was your intent due to your cresting release. “You’re my captain, so I’m gonna — oh! — be a good girl and fuck my captain until he’s fucked dry from my cunt —“

A sound of utter frustration from Levi and his hands were bruising your hips. Hard. He fucked up into you, slamming you down onto him, and every time he met you half way. Now you held onto his shoulders for fear of falling off, too hazed from lust and pleasure to register that as a foolish notion; like Levi would ever let you fall. Like he would ever let you go.

You fisted one hand into the sheets, meeting Levi’s upward thrusts however you could. Teasing words devolved into endless grunts and moans. You exchanged breaths before you remembered you could kiss him and did, kissing him hard as your last threads of sanity snapped and you clenched wildly down onto him. 

You moaned into Levi’s mouth as you came. You gripped his cock with your cunt again, again, and felt Levi come undone underneath you only seconds later. Warm, thick ropes of cum spilled into you and you stilled on top of him, sitting flat, then grinding your hips, your clit rocking into his abdomen rug-burned by his pubic hair. The sensation added another shock of pleasure as you came undone. 

Levi was determined to fuck you through it. With strength you didn’t think he still had, he flipped you over and proceeded to fuck his come into you, the length of his shaft coated white with your juices and his. Another thrust and he slammed into you without retreating, holding there. 

“Levi …” You moaned out. You felt him move and whined; you weren’t ready for him to leave you, to be empty. 

But the second Levi pulled out, he replaced what you’d lost with his fingers, ensuring his spent be left inside.

“Oh, fuck, Le …!” You shuddered, too overstimulated to submit to Levi’s fingers rubbing up against your spot.

“Quiet,” he murmured. “You’re a good girl, remember? Don’t wanna hear it …”

You bit your lip, nearly ripped the sheets from their corners as he stimulated you from inside. Finally, he withdrew his fingers, certain his spent had taken with you.

“Phew.” Eyes closed, you fell back into the pillow, too blissed out to articulate much more. 

The mattress depressed at your side and you knew Levi was there, trailing kisses up your arm. Once in the crook of your neck, “Good girl.”

You hummed as Levi relaxed beside you. Despite his claims, you knew there was no way the sheets hadn’t been tainted — by sweat, by juice if not by his cum — and Levi would have you rip the sheets from their corners and wash them. He’d watch to see what kind of detergent you would choose, testing to see if your skills were up to par with his. And perhaps he would fuck you in the laundry room while the sheets dried. Maybe he would fuck into you from behind while you made the bed. Whatever it was, you were game. Always. When and if it was with him.

While your mind swam with sordid thoughts, Levi spoke up:

“What do you want?”

You propped up on an elbow, facing him. “Hm?”

“Us.” He turned to you, stoic expression having returned, but his eyes ever watchful. “What do you want out of this?”

You smiled. “I … want a partner. Someone to share things with.” You sought out his hand to entwine your fingers with his and, to your surprise, he reciprocated the gesture after a second or two. “But it doesn’t have to be serious. Or public.”

“Hm.” Levi nodded. You always got the sense he was testing you, somehow, both in and out of bed. The romantic in you wanted to believe it was because he feared hurting you, feared pushing you beyond your limits. “I think that would be best for now.” 

Fuck buddies it is.

“We should work on these sheets,” Levi said. “It’s not too late. We could have them dried before midnight.” He eyed you with challenge. “If you’re not too tired?”

You thought of your previous fantasies. Perhaps you would be the one to initiate this time?

You smirked. “You’re on.” 

[bloomshroomz]

Massive TW for intersex genital mutilation, intersex slurs, and general intersexism.

Today I learned that the Google search results for "ovotestis"/"ovotestes" (an intersex variation in which one is born with gonads which are both testicular and ovarian) largely consists of:

Websites calling it a disorder ("DSD," "disorder of sex development," etc.)

Websites referring to people with ovotestes as "h*rmaphrodites" or "true h*rmaphrodites" (incorrect, outdated, offensive terms)

Images of intersex babies having their genitals operated on. Yes. You read that correctly. Images of babies genitals, being surgically mutilated, and then posted online. These intersex people do not get the opportunity to consent to these surgeries, nor the opportunity to consent to their genitals being put on public display, because (and I cannot stress this enough) they are babies.

These are the first results when looking up information about this intersex variation. And so many of yall will just trust that this is okay because "the medical establishment says so."

The medical establishment has a history of abusing and medicalizing LGBTQIA+ people. For some reason, a bunch of you are able to recognize this abuse and medicalization as wrong, up until it happens to intersex people. Then yall either try to justify it, or deny that this abuse happens at all.

Like, I'm not even intersex, but this pisses me off. Please advocate against these non-consensual surgeries and images. Please stop calling intersex people "h*rmaphrodites" or similar terms. Please learn about IGM.

When you're trying to learn about intersex people, please stop defaulting to trusting the medical establishment when it comes to information about intersex people. Please don't just trust the first results you get on Google. Please put effort in to listen to actual intersex people and advocacy groups instead.

And please, stop using terms like "DSD" to describe intersex people broadly. No, it did not originally stand for "differences of sex development" and it is still commonly used to mean "disorders of sex development."

Some individuals identify as people with DSDs, but this terminology should not be used as an umbrella term for all intersex people. Many medical sources will say things like "DSDs (formerly termed intersex)" or similar wording. This is an attempt by the medical establishment to replace intersex as a term, and many intersex people and organizations reject it.

Intersex people and advocacy groups have been fighting against these practices and terms, yet somehow people still insist that intersex people prefer it this way.

Don't just sit by and shrug and say "I'm not intersex, so I can't say anything about this. It's not my place."

Say something.

[l0vem41l]

mean when i'm nervous.

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited as BAWLS, dc writer newbie but im very enthusiastic abt the comics and shows and movies, dog metaphor but insane and unsubtle, explicitly vigilante!reader in dick grayson’s part, dramatic asf but not really angst 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. bruce wayne, clark kent, richard "dick" grayson, and john constantine

author's note: so. we all know what my favourite thing right now is (⌒_⌒;) i still adore everything i used to write for,,, but i’ve been on my comic motives recently (*ﾟｰﾟ*) ! reading dc mostly but spider-noir and deadpool have been picked up along the way!!! um. anyways. if i get comfy enough, i might do more dc stuff but i get that this isn't my exact audience on this blog— sorry my loves (´＿｀。) </3 might write a part two cuz i love jason. and booster gold. and like every single one of them (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) halfway through writing this i realized everything feels very literal, so i feel the need to mention that this is not dog hybrid reader stuff but if u fw that u can imagine it that way

perhaps the habit of burning bridges you’re actively crossing isn’t a good idea. and you’re not an idiot, not in the slightest— but even if you were, everyone knows that needless self destruction when developing relationships is counterproductive.

you strike the match anyways, like it’s just a force of habit. another instinct.

if you spent life knowing that the hand only beats. why would you expect it to do anything else when it’s lowered towards you?

you learn to keep your hopes down, ears alert, and teeth sharp. you learn to get used to the taste of blood. to make things messy and complicated, and to end things when they need to be ended, because god knows it’s only self preservation when you do it.

you learn that the only way to survive is to bite— to hurt before something hurts you.

and one day, an unfamiliar hand that extends towards you decides to feed instead.

why do you still bare your teeth?

▸ BRUCE is unsure why he sticks around. he’s understanding, but also reasonably frustrated with your antics. it doesn’t evade him that they stem from something deeply rooted in your past— but he doesn’t know what to do about it. if there is anything to do.

at his core, he's a detective. he's got an eye for digging into strange pasts and a knack for knowing things he isn't supposed to. but in spite of his paranoia and hunger to know, bruce doesn't pry too much. he can do research on his own, without you ever having to realize.

you’re self-sufficient, he’ll give you that. you’re unsure sometimes of whether he’s proud that you can take care of yourself or irritated that you consistently insist on doing so. he’s unsure too. not like he lets you know.

it’s a mutual understanding the two of you share— he stays, you bite. yet bruce, unsurprisingly, doesn’t mind being bitten. he’d hope that the reason he’s sticking around is for the selfless reason of making sure you’re alright. though, the reality is, you’ve grown on him, whether you realize or not.

bruce has always been fond of strays.

▸ CLARK is nothing but patient. and that scares you beyond reason.

he sees the way you bare your teeth whenever someone gets too close for comfort to you. he knows when to back away, when to speak, when not to— he’s always attempting to never make you feel backed into a corner.

somehow, it makes you more anxious seeing just how much he understands about you. he knows just how to coax you out of the corner of your cage, how to bring you in closer, and it almost, almost convinces you to let your guard down.

the thought of that is terrifying.

you try barking, you try biting— and none of it works. clark doesn’t coddle you when you’re wrong— but he’s absolutely nothing but gentle. patient and understanding, sometimes you wonder how a man of steel can be so soft for someone like you.

▸ DICK isn’t dumb. it’s fairly easy for him to put two and two together. quickly, he figures out what he’s dealing with when he encounters you.

his conversations with you are never without a note of levity— a deliberate action on his end, you’re certain. he knows, you know, and because of it, everything feels oddly tense around him, even with the attempts to banter.

it’s too late to run. his observant gaze has caught a glimpse of you through your one way glass, and he’s chosen to meet your eyes with a smile. there's a sense of foreboding that gnaws at your gut, anxiously anticipating what might be lurking under that grin of his.

on his end, there are no malicious intentions. he doesn’t really have ulterior motives when it comes to you.

most times, he chooses to defend you and be the one standing at your side when no one else does. you don't understand why he insists on offering you friendship when all you do is pull away.

after a long night of patrolling the streets of gotham, you find the two of you leaning on the railing of a rooftop side by side. your eyes are on this cityscape of gotham. his are on you.

“you keep on insisting i’m not as bad as i seem,” you mutter under your breath.

late nights make for loose lips. he’s pleasantly surprised to hear you continue the thought instead of attempting to take it back.

“do you just hate being right?” you snort, allowing your gaze to flit over to him just for a second.

"no." dick smiles, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “i think you just hate the fact that i could be.”

▸ you tried not to bother with CONSTANTINE. the day the two of you met, you didn’t even introduce yourself.

john constantine’s presence alone reeks of trouble, as acrid and suffocating as the cigarette smoke that clings to his tan trenchcoat. you are attuned to things like that. he notices.

one thing you actually enjoy about him? he doesn’t chase. he’s a nosy one, for certain, sticking his nose into places no one in their right mind would— but for the most part, he steers clear of yours. initially, you think it’s because your urge to be left alone by him is so prevalent that he’s just chosen to heed the warning and not approach when unwanted.

but he’s not a man known for abiding by rules. he’s much more curious with you than you notice or prefer. in a way, your distance has made you more myth than man, more tale than tangible— you are a rumor passed through whispers between lips, a silent shadow lurking in the corner of the room… and he loves a good mystery.

“c’mon. you're actin’ like ‘m gonna bite your head off, luv,” he chuckles, lighting up the cigarette between his fingers.

i'd probably be the one doing that if i got any closer. you keep that thought in your head, standing with a gap between the two of you as always.

he doesn't miss how you avoid looking into his eyes like his gaze could murder, instead, focusing your gaze on the cherry of the cig, burning bright red.

“not much for a wee natter, hm?”

the quick shake of your head only makes his smirk grow. you could just walk away… so why exactly were you sticking around?

“fine by me. quiet company’s welcome.” that’s a sentence he’d probably never say to anyone else. in a strange way, he feels like he knows you well enough to be comfortable with the words that hang in the air.

it’s weird. you’re completely unknown, and yet, an irrational part of his mind keeps nagging at him to look just a little closer at you. sometimes, when he listens to it, he catches a glimpse of something silent in your eyes— an all too familiar pain of a person who can’t help but hurt the things that they cling onto.

so that’s why you’re keen on keeping everyone at arms length. it almost makes him laugh to think how similar the two of you are, plain as day, and yet unnoticed by you— a person who won’t even meet his eyes.

— reblogs always appreciated!

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

We've got a jam packed post this week, folks. The live airing shows continue to impress, a sequel film and a recent GL dropped, and one of my favorites of the year cam to an end. These are all streaming on Gaga or provided via fansub (feel free to ask if you don’t know where to find them).

Our Youth

This week the show gave me everything I wanted from a POV switch, as we finally went back a little to get a peek into Hirukawa's head and learn how his feelings for Minase developed. From there, we continued with the high school era story, with Hirukawa and Minase going together to see his dad's new film, which turned out to be a BL. The show really nailed how meaningful that moment was to both of them, to see characters like themselves depicted on screen and realize what it meant (@twig-tea). This episode also gave us more of a sense of what's broken in each of their relationships with their parents, and they are now heading off to spend the weekend with Hirukawa's mother. I'm nervous to see how this past iteration of their relationship ended, but also excited to get back to the present.

Love is Like a Poison

An excellent ending to all around solid as a rock show. This drama managed to blend several genres and develop a great romance and tell so many good jokes and somehow never take a single misstep in its storytelling. So refreshing! Shiba and Haruto are a battle couple for the ages and I wish them well on their future domestic and legal partnership. Can't recommend this one highly enough!

Love in the Air Koi

Color me charmed. I really like Fuma and Kai as a pair, more than I expected to. Fuma comes across more good-humored and unserious than he does sleazy, and it's clear that he is actually very serious about Kai. “Why do your eyes always look like you’re asking for help?” was a great line to demonstrate that Fuma sees through Kai's bluster, but at the same time he knows when to back off and give Kai space to process. Kai got me with his constant smiling whenever he thought Fuma couldn't see (the shot in the side mirror of the car being my favorite). I also loved the quick scene we got with Arashi and Rei discussing their friends and the casual affection between them now that they're a couple. This show is great, and so far I think they've done a good job with the darker aspects of Kai's story. I really appreciated @bengiyo's reflections this week on what it's doing well and how the show is subverting expectations with the casting.

The Fragrance You Inherit

This week we got more context for Sakura's college days, including meeting her bestie Ryosuke (an ace king!). I definitely suspect that Sakura's affections were not entirely one-sided back then, but Mone remains a mystery for now. This story is definitely about closure rather than any new romance, and maybe in the end allowing Sakura to be who she is more freely. Speaking of which, Toki might just be my favorite teenage son character ever. He's such a good boy, and he seems driven primarily by a desire to know his mother and support her in pursuing her own happiness instead of just his. I look forward to meeting Mone's husband next episode and continuing to watch all these lovely people treat each other with compassion and kindness. You can find the show here, with big thanks to @isaksbestpillow for providing English subs.

Let's Eat Together Aki and Haru: More Please

This week Gaga dropped a sequel to this charming if inessential little food BL film. The first one let us down by not making the relationship explicitly romantic, and the sequel did rectify that as the characters prepared to leave school and contemplated life no longer living together. Though still no kiss for us. It didn't blow me away, but it's a nice little bit of fluff if you have free time and want something light.

Salty Blue

This short GL film (only 15 minutes) tells a solid and sweet little friends to lovers story, with some surprises thrown in for fun. I recommend giving it a watch! You can find it here with big thanks to @nicks-den for subbing and sharing it.

[reallyromealone]

Another part to the Spencer Reid x reader accidental mating plz

Title: accidental mating

Chapter 3 1/2

Fandom: criminal minds

Characters: criminal minds cast, extra characters with no names

Fic type: omegaverse

Pairings: Spencer x male reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, fluff, angst, reader faces gender discrimination, mpreg, a half chapter for now

Notes: been writing this in my off time

Summary: the team has a new mission and feelings are slowly rising while Spencer learns something about his mate while trying to not throttle someone

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

It had been a month and a half since the two agreed to live together and it's been... Rocky to say the least.

"He puts bread in the fridge!" (Name) Groaned angrily, sitting with Prentiss in her car while they went to get lunch to satisfy (name)s newly developed cravings. "He is a weirdo, other than fridge bread is everything good?"

Minus Spencer avoiding him or treating him like glass and somehow keeping him at an arms length... Everything was fine...

"Just tell him you wanna be with him!" Morgan groaned out and Spencee looked less than thrilled at his best friends words, ever since (name) and him moved into the house together, (name)s scent was hard to ignore and frankly driving Spencer up the wall in the most annoyingly best way possible.

He was just tired of how his alpha reacted to it all, his body practically moving on its own to try and make sure (name) was well cared for always only for him to snap back and push away.

"I don't want to be with him! My alpha is just reacting to the fact he's carrying my children! It's purely biological!" Morgan just stared unimpressed with him, it was clear as day that Spencer had been developing feelings but was too far up his own ass to figure it out. Who would have figured that the smartest man in the room would be so dumb. "Well how are things going at home?" Morgan asked the other who groaned "he keeps moving things, always complaining how it doesn't feel right"

It was another form of nesting, especially with pregnant people. Instead of just making cute nests, they cleaned the house with an aggression like no other and treated the furniture like they were playing sims. (Name) Was no exception, rearranging the house and subsequently dragging Reid along as the Alpha didn't want him hurting himself or the babies "he's really putting you to work" Morgan teased much to the other alphas frustration.

Giggling could be heard across the bullpen, the two looking over to see (name) and Prentiss with a few sandwiches "there you two are, where have you guys been off too?" Morgan teased while (name) took a sandwich out of the plastic bag and handed it to Reid "you didn't eat breakfast" (name) said simply and the Alpha looked down at the sandwich from the deli a few blocks down, the sticker on it showing it had everything he liked on it.

"O-oh uh... Thanks" (name) looked confused at the doctor but didn't pay him too much mind as his belly rumbled and immediately went to his desk to go eat his monstrosity of a sandwich, everyone both horrified and fascinated at the combination of things between some sourdough.

"Pregnancy is a fascinating yet horrifying thing" Spencer said taking a bite of his sandwich while his mate enjoyed his foo-- not his mate.

They weren't mates.

...

Fuck.

"I heard he seduced him and baby trapped him"

"Well I heard that he blackmailed him"

(Name) Ignored the gossip and whispers about him, Hitch needing to use the restroom and (name) walking ahead back to the alphas office "clearly he had to do... Favors to get this job" if it wasn't him being accused of being a whore it was something...

He loved his pups but he wished it was different and he could have done this on his own time...

"(Name)?" Spencer's voice broke him out of his thoughts, a look of concern on his face... Spencer... God despite being well him, (name) would be a liar if he said he didnt feel attraction to him. "Are you alright?" The Alpha asked concerned, his alpha slipping out subconsciously and (name) just sighed at him. "I'm fine" (name) said calmly, these comments weren't anything new to him and he didn't need his alpha by technicality going all bubble wrap and worry even if it wasn't actually him caring... It was nice though he wouldn't lie.

Another mission, another plane ride.

"You sure he's good?" JJ asked worried while (name) threw up in the washroom "just morning sickness, it will pass" spencer mumbled, already having water and crackers ready.

"Remember (name), you are not to leave our sides" hotch warned seriously and (name) nodded, a calm and casual look on his face and to everyones surpise went closer to Reid, gently looping his arm around the alphas.

"What? It's easier to just have you be seen as my alpha to avoid issues" (name) explaimed but Spencer didn't decide to push, the omegas scent just faint enough for Spencer to smell and his back straightened slightly because of it.

(Name) Felt eyes on him, his belly and the whispers already began "the Omega do something?" A cop asked and hotch glared at him "FBI, we are here on special business, this is my assistant" the Alpha was deeply protective of his assistant and would not tolerate any harassment of him, especially with what happened last time. (Name) Seemed unphased and frankly more calm than he should as the team went to go see the Sheriff to collect more information and begin the investigation.

The sheriff was an older alpha, mustache and rougher skin from not wearing sunscreen in the hot weather, years of work showing on each wrinkle "my, the big guns in our little town? I'm honored" his voice laced with nothing but pure sarcasm and disdain while combing through the team slowly before looking at (name) with an expression that the Omega couldn't recognize "didn't know they let 'megas in the FBI" he grumbled and (name) bit his cheek "he's my assistant" hotch said seriously "we both want those teens to be found, you want this to be over and we want to do our jobs now... Shall we get to work?"

"Fine but the omega doesn't see the evidence" the sheriff said simply and (name) mentally began counting "hes not a cop, he's a citizen and this is under my rules and besides... You know state laws with omegas 'round these parts, don't you?"

"..." Hotch looked ready to explode, (name) never seen him so furious "Reid, take (name) to his hotel" hotch hissed out, eyes not leaving the sheriff's while the rest of the team looked pissed to say the least.

(Name) Was silent, ignoring the snickers from the cops around them while they went to one of the SUVs, Reid's knuckles white while helping (name) in "I can't believe it!" The Alpha grumbled and (name) shrugged "you get used to it... The amount of jobs I was denied for being an Omega... I was shocked hotch took a chance on me" it's why he worked so hard, he always wanted his boss and the person he admired deeply to know he was capable.

That he was worthy of being there.

"You shouldn't be used to this!"

"Trust me, I wish I wasn't but I'm not an alpha who has every door open for him" like Reid, an attractive alpha who was smarter than every person in the room "hell if it weren't for my sister, I wouldn't have even been able to apply without it getting tossed"

"Whose your sister?" (Name) Was happy to distract the genius who seemed genuinely curious about (name)s life "well she's more my step sister but her names Temperance, her parents took me in when I was five... She's the closest family I have"

"Wait... Temperance as in temperance Brennan?" Reid was incredulous at this, how did he not know that his friend was related to his mate?!

Well to be fair, they weren't blood related so they wouldn't look the same...

"She contacted Boothe and he got into contact with hotch who was willing to give me an interview..."

"If... You didn't get the job, what would you have done?"

"My sister would have dragged me to be her assistant or something... I avoided it though because i know her and I would butt heads, she mind of reminds me of you" (name) mumbled and Reid didn't know if he was touched or not but took it as a compliment anyways "I just can't believe Hotch just sent you off like that though!"

"Oh he didn't, he is sending me all the information once Garcia scans it through"

Oh.

Well now Reid felt silly.

"Can we get pizza? Babies want pizza with honey"

And a bit disgusted.