#like everything about him was a lose/lose situation

[producedbysohyun]

A Not So Secret Secret pt.2

Kang Dae-ho x pregnant! Reader

Summary: Still trapped in the games, you depend on Dae-ho for comfort and protection as you face the games, sickness, and constant fear.

Warnings: Reader is replacing number 222 but has no correlation with 333, Reader is pregnant, mentions of killing and stuff like that, might be slightly inaccurate, Not proofread.

wc: 3.2k

a/n: This took along time please enjoy!!

Pt.1

You wake up. Now your third day of being in the squid games.

As the speaker goes off telling everyone that its morning time you sit up, groaning softly as your neck is aching from using Dae-ho's arm as a pillow the whole night. Your group around you wakes up as well, everyone looking dazed as they still find it hard to process the situation they are in.

Everyone in the game lines up and gets their breakfast, a piece of bread and some milk.

"what kind of breakfast is this" you think to yourself, your hunger really getting to you.

Despite the disappointment of bread for breakfast, you go and sit where your group would usually sit, waiting for everyone in the group to join as well.

You sit there, mindlessly eating your bread until Dae-ho comes and sits next to you.

"Hi baby how are you feeling?' he asks, giving you a small smile.

You just pout. "hungry.."

He frowns before giving you his bread.

"Nooo its fine..." You try to protest, knowing its not gonna get you anywhere.

He smiles "We've been through this already, I'm fine" He reassures you.

You frown and take the bread. You feel so useless, just eating peoples food even though it was offered to you.

"ahh.. actually it's fine really.. you need to eat..." you say as you hand the food back to him, your thoughts getting the best of you.

He looks at you softly before trying to negotiate. "How about we split it? You know what you have right now is not enough for you at all.."

You give in, to hungry to say no, "ok.." You smile as he gives you half his bread, though your piece is much bigger than his.

By now the rest of the group has joined you guys and all of you are just talking about whatever comes to mind, The next game, escaping, the fight that might take place tonight, and stuff like that.

Suddenly, the room starts spinning, and a wave of nausea hits you. You feel your head spin, and before you can react, you quickly push yourself up and speed-walk to the bathroom, trying to keep your balance. Dae-ho calls your name, but you don’t respond, too focused on getting to the bathroom. Once inside, you rush into a stall and throw up everything you just ate. Afterward, you sit on the cold bathroom floor, your back against the stall, too weak to move. The nausea lingers, and you just close your eyes, wishing for it to pass.

"it must just be morning sickness.." you thought to yourself.

Even though you've only experienced it a few times, the games seem to be making it lot worse, most likely due to the amount of stress you're under.

You must've been in there for awhile as the voice on the speaker sounds once again. "please follow the guards to your next game."

You quickly get up, flushing the toilet and running out of the bathroom back over to your group.

Dae-ho looks panicked before he spots you. "Are you ok???" he asks worriedly.

You nod, panting from running so fast. "I just felt a little sick that's all."

The group exchanges worried glances, their faces filled with concern, though there isn't much they can do.

You step into the colorful room with stairs and begin to climb, but each step feels heavier. You struggle a bit, the stairs feeling like a mountain to your exhausted and sick body, and they only get harder as you go. Halfway up, you lose your footing and stumble, nearly falling backward.

Luckily for you Dae-ho was right behind you and quickly put his hands on your waist, steadying you.

"are you ok??" he asks, worry in this voice. "Do you need me to carry you?"

"N-no I got it.. I'm alright.." You regain your balance and continue walking up the stairs.

Dae-ho stays close behind you on high alert just incase you stumble again.

As you guys get to the next game you take in your surroundings. The room has a red circle platform with horses in the middle. A multitude of colorful doors are placed on the walls of the room and the ceiling is almost like one of a carnival tent with white and red stripes on it.

"this game is called mingle." The speaker says.

"Ohh.. we used to play something like this when I was younger, but you would have to get in groups by hugging" Jung-bae says to the group.

You feel a bit more relieved as he says that. At least someone knows what they are doing.

The speaker goes off a again. "all players will stand on the platform and as it spins. When the music stops a random number will be called out. You will have to form groups of that number and go into one of the rooms before the timer is up or you will be eliminated."

After the announcement your group immediately starts talking about what to do.

Dae-ho turns to you. "No matter what just stay with me.. ok?"

You nod, not even wanting to think about the two of you getting separated in a place like this.

Your group manages to get somewhat of a plan before the game starts, the platform starting to spin as some children's song plays.

You tightly grip onto Dae-ho's hand, wanting to insure you guys won't be separated and as you do so the platform abruptly stops.

"ten" the speaker says as a 30 second timer shows up.

Your group of five desperately searches for another group of five but only finds one of four. Suddenly, number 120, a member of the group of four runs off and grabs a random girl.

"we have ten now! Go to room 44! The green door!" she calls out.

All ten of you quickly run into the room, the doors locking soon behind you. Your hand never leaving Dae-ho's.

The ten of you all breathe heavily as the sound of gun shots and people begging for their lives are heard outside of the room.

You lean back against the wall, exhausted and scared. Your hands are shaking like crazy and it catches Dae-ho's attention. His thumb gently caresses the back of your hand, trying to comfort you the best he can in the moment. Then, the random lady starts yelling.

“You’re alive because of me!” She exclaims before turning to Gi-hun, giving him a creepy look. “It seems there’s a reason you’ve survived longer than you were supposed to.” She says as she smirks.

The lady then turns to you and just stares at you creepily for a bit, Dae-ho keeping a close eye on her to make sure she doesn’t try anything.

Then, to your luck, doors unlock and all of you walk out. You cringe as you step in a pile of blood on the floor, but at this point you're pretty used to it.

Everyone gets back on the platform and then, it starts to spin, the song ringing loudly in your ears. Your heart feels like it's gonna beat out of your chest but you try to focus on the game as best as you can.

The platform stops once again. "four" the speaker says.

You all look at each other. There are five of you. You need four.

Gi-hun speaks up, not afraid to sacrifice himself. "you four go-"

"No, go ahead guys." Young-il cuts him off, already walking away, not giving any room for protest.

Gi-hun just stands there before getting dragged away by Jung-bae.

"we have no choice come on!" Jung-bae exclaims to all of you.

You all quickly run into a greyish purplish room. But Gi-hun hesitate to close the door as he's looking for Young-il.

The timer starts to get it it's last seconds before Gi-hun finally closes the door.

More gunshots are heard outside but you don't care at this point, You're just grateful you're alive.

The door soon unlock and everyone repeats the same process.

The platform starts to spin and you stumble a bit. Dae-ho quickly stables you, still holding onto your hand.

you squeeze his hand tighter as the platform stops.

"three" The speaker says.

"you three go- me and Young-il will find one more person!" Gi-hun says urgently.

You, Dae-ho, and Jung-bae waste no time running into one of the empty rooms.

Suddenly a random guy runs into your guys' room and you being the only girl and the weakest, he grabs you and try's to drag you out.

Dae-ho and Jung-bae both react at the same time. Dae-ho gently pushes you behind him as Him and Jung-bae shove the guy out of the room.

You breathe heavily, trying to figure out what just happened before Dae-ho turns around and bends down to your level.

"are you ok?" He asks, eyeing you everywhere for any sort of injury.

You just nod breathlessly and lean against him, putting your head against his chest as the door locks. He gently puts his arms around you, kissing your head softly.

"thank you guys" you say to the two boys with as much gratefulness as possible.

"of course" Jung-bae nods as he breathes heavily.

The doors soon unlock and Dae-ho lets go of you, taking your hand again as the three of you walk out of the room and reunite with the rest of your group.

You all look at each other relieved everyone survived before getting on the platform for what felt like the tenth time.

The song began once again as the platform spun slowly.

"Six" the speaker called out as the spinning stopped.

Your group turns to the group of four that went with a few games ago. You can't exactly tell what they are saying as everyone is yelling. They agree on something and you feel Dae-ho start running somewhere with you and the group of four following behind. He opens a door but the room already has people in it. The people in the room slammed the door shut before the same player from a few games ago, 120, started yelling. "Over here! This room is empty! hurry!"

All five of you started running towards the door and you all got inside on time except number 095 had fallen. 120 tried to go and save her but was shoved back in by some guy and before she could do anything, the doors shut and locked.

You had no idea what was happening all you saw was the young girls eyes from the rectangle hole in the door.

"unnie..." She said, fear in her voice.

"young-mi!" Player 120 exclaimed as she ran to the door, trying her absolute hardest to open it, but there was nothing she could do, the young girl had been shot.

Player 120 immediately went over to player 333, the guy who had stopped her from saving Young-mi, and started yelling at him.

Player 333 snapped back. "If you would've saved her you would all be dead right now! I'm the reason all of you are alive! Am I wrong?!"

You hesitantly spoke up. "He's right..."

Dae-ho soon followed after you, also agreeing.

Player 120 just stayed quiet as the door unlocked and everyone sorrowfully walked out of the room.

You all got back on the platform and Jung-bae turned to Gi-hun.

"what do you think it will be this time?" Jung-bae asked.

"two" Young-il asnwered.

Everyone in the group looked at him with worry. "why?" Jung-bae questioned.

"There are 126 people left, and there are 50 rooms. The rest will be killed." Young-il answered as the platform abruptly stopped again.

"two" the speaker called out.

You had no time to think before Dae-ho grabbed your hand and started running with you to a room.

While you were running some guy without a teammate shoved you and you fell to the floor, your arm going right into your stomach.

Dae-ho reacted quickly, immediately grabbing the guy and punching him before shoving him to give himself some more time to grab you.

You feel yourself being quickly lifted up off the floor and being carried into a room.

Dae-ho sets you down on the floor, the door locking as he looks you over frantically. "baby?? are you ok???"

All you can do is whimper, you had hit your head pretty hard when you fell and your arm had also went right into your stomach.

"Can you talk to me??" He grabs your face softly and makes you look at him.

"my head hurts" you say quietly.

Dae-hos face lights up, happy you can atleast talk, but he still looks very concerned. "yeah? Did you hit it?" he asks with worry in his voice.

You nod as the doors unlock.

He looks at the door before look back at you "can you walk?'

You nod, knowing its probably a lie but you get up nonetheless, slightly stumbling.

Dae-ho puts an arm around your waist. "lean on me baby.." He orders sofly.

You do just that, depending on him to hold you up as the both of you walk out of the door and reunite with your group.

Gi-hun sees the state you're in and looks visibly worried. "are you ok y/n?"

You nod, too out of it to speak.

Gi-hun, not believing you looks at Dae-ho, hoping he'll provide an answer.

Dae-ho just gives him an unsure look and shrugs as they walk out of the game room.

Dae-ho carefully helps you navigate your way down the stairs. "are you sure you don't want me to carry you?"

You nod, not wanting to be a burden on him. "I'm alright Dae.."

He sighs and nods as the two of you make your way down the stairs into the main area.

Your group sat in their usual area while you got some rest. They discussed the vote that would be taking place soon and how they only need seven players to change from O to X to be able to go home.

As the voice form the speaker calls out that the vote is starting, Dae-ho goes over to the sleeping area and softly wakes you up.

You groan softly "Do I have to..."

Dae-ho looks at you softly "yes.. we are voting now.."

You whine and sit up, on the verge of tears as you just want to sleep and go home.

Dae-ho sees this and frowns. "I know baby I'm sorry.." He says as he helps you up.

*time skip to vote*

You all have finished voting and it was 49 X and O 50. There was one person left to vote. Young-il. But he looked very suspicious. You crossed your fingers as Dae-ho put his head in your shoulder, not being able to watch.

*beep*

The buzzer went off and Young-il had voted for X. It was a tie. Everyone from your group sighed in relief. The guard's announced that since it was a tie there would be another vote tomorrow.

A bit after the vote everyone lined up for dinner. Your group sat back in their spot and you just sat in bed and ate. Dae-ho decided to give you some space as your mood wasn't good and he didn't wanna bother you.

As you ate in your bed you could here people yelling and you see Dae-ho in the middle of it. Confused you stand up and try to go over to him but the old lady grabs your wrist, stopping you.

"Please don't get involved..." She says softly.

You sigh and just sit next to her. "what are they fighting over.."

"We were trying to get some of the people that voted for O to vote for X but they just got offended.." She explains.

You just sigh and realize you've eaten all your kimbap.

"Did you eat enough?" The old lady asks softly.

You smile at her. "ya.. this was probably one of the most filling meals since we've got here.."

You and her have a small conversation before Dae-ho comes back over, looking pretty pissed.

"what happened?" you ask him.

He looks at you, his expression softening. "It's nothing baby don't worry about it." he said, not wanting to stress you out anymore.

As your group sat there and talked you ended up falling asleep, using Dae-ho's shoulder as a pillow while he had his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your lap.

You woke up to the sound of the speaker saying players had been eliminated. Confused, you looked at the group. "what happened?"

Gi-hun looked at you and replied. "there must've been a fight."

And he was right. The people on O team soon started saying that X tried to fight them first and the people on the X team saying that O tried to fight them first.

You cuddle closer to Dae-ho, not liking the situation you're in currently. He rubs your side softly as he watches the commotion that is currently going on. While everything is happening, Gi-hun takes the opportunity to tell everyone there is gonna be a fight tonight as how they are all gonna hide until its over and stuff.

You, on the other hand are freaking out, scared for your life, and your baby's. You cuddle into Dae-ho more as he listens to Gi-hun talk and you silently cry. When Dae-ho pulls away to go to the sleeping area, he sees your face.

"hey baby whats wrong are you ok??" He asks worriedly.

"I'm scared..." you admit.

"hey.. look at me.." He makes you look at him. "You know I would never let anything happen to you.. I would protect you with my life..."

You continue crying softly. "But the baby- what if- earlier when I fell my arm hit my stomach really hard so I don't even know if it's ok.."

Dae-ho looks concerned and puts his hand on your bump gently. "Does it hurt at all?" He asks.

"N-not right now but it hurt a lot before-" you stutter.

"Hey.. breathe.. You and the baby will be ok..And I will do everything I possibly can too ensure that.. I promise.." He says softly, now holding your face again.

Your nerves calm down a lot.. You trust him with your life.. you always have so why would he lie now? he would'nt.

He smiles at you and wipes your tears before softly kissing you. You kiss back and it just feels like everything you were scared of before doesn't matter anymore.

Your kiss was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a voice over the speaker, announcing that it was time for bed, followed by the lights flicking off. The abruptness of it snapped you both back to reality, and for a moment, you just sat there, a little dazed. The atmosphere shifted as the intimate moment faded into something more serious. You exchanged a glance with Dae-ho, and without a word, you both made your way toward the sleeping area, the mood now quiet as the both of you sat with the rest of the group and waited for the fight to start like Gi-hun said.

As you all settled in, you felt Dae-ho's arm slip around you, pulling you close. Seeking comfort, you cuddled into him, letting the warmth and safety of his embrace ease your worries. You grew so comfortable, the tension fading, and for a moment, you forgot that danger could be just around the corner. With Dae-ho by your side, you felt secure enough to drift off to sleep, knowing he would protect you. And soon the world outside fading into the background.

a/n: And once again I suck at making endings. but I hope you guys enjoyed! I don't know if ill make a part three unless you guys really want it. But if I did make one I would have to wait till Season 3 comes out or just make up my own ending. what ever you guys prefer!

[sisterdanielstits]

my 2025 dan and phil predictions:

1. nordvpn stops sponsoring phil for a completely innocent reason and is never brought up but conspiracies are made when we notice he hasn't done a nord spon in a long time

2. it's dan that has the medical scare this time and he constantly makes jokes about how he's getting back at phil for all he made him do while phil was ill but gushes about everything phil is doing for him

3. they get a dog but don't tell us for a while to "make sure they can keep it alive". they make a joke about how we were their test run like how a lot of married couples get a dog to test run having kids but their situation was the opposite. and then they never talk about that again. but we all freak out about them directly comparing themselves to a married couple

4. phil named the dog. dan pretends to hate the name and makes up a horrifically stupid nickname as a joke but it goes too far and now it's the only name the dog responds to

4. april fools baking on dan and phil crafts

5. they somehow manage to lose the dan vs phil board and find it months later in a really strange spot with no idea how it got there

6. the builders finally actually finish the phouse

7. a new danandphilbeats album is dropped and the art is dan and phil in a very coupley pose

8. the names of the songs are the most unhinged yet

9. one or both get an official diagnosis of something neurodivergent

[wtfaniii]

Letters of destiny

● Summary: You entered the games for a reason, to pay for your husband's chemotherapy, there you meet someone who has a story quite similar to yours

● Note: This language is not my original language but I hope you like this one shot, I am open to recommendations and constructive criticism! <3

● Warning: Nothing, it's just a bit short since I'm not used to writing through this medium yet, but I hope you like it.

You didn't want to die, you had a man at home who adored you and was worried about you and you hoped to arrive with lots of money and a future resolved but the timer of the games only went backwards and you still couldn't find a group to join.

The carousel game had never been your strong suit, socializing was not your role but it was that or die, a group of 7 players and you were still standing there looking in all directions not knowing what to do until you felt someone pull your arm and in the blink of an eye you were in a compartment with 6 other people.

"Thank you..." The girl murmured, releasing the air she hadn't realized she had trapped in her lungs.

"It's nothing" answered player 456 also with accelerated breathing and taking gasps of air while he rested his hands on his knees, when the shots and screams were heard he looked through the half-open space of the door with sadness. You had already seen him, he was the one who guided them in the first game of green light and red light, the one who says he has already participated and won, maybe he tried to persuade people to withdraw from these games but he only encouraged you, it means that there is a chance to win.

"Thank you..." The young woman repeated, giving a slight bow to which he turned to look at her, confused, as did the rest of those who were there. "You motivated me to continue in these games."

You felt another look on you, only this one was full of curiosity and intensity. Without knowing it, you had said the same words as another person, only this time they were sincere.

"Are you crazy, women?" Another man shouted next to him, one with the number 390 "If what we want is for these games to end!"

You just stayed quiet with your eyes open, when your gaze moved towards the one who kept looking at you, you met with an intense and serious look, it made you shrink in your place just a little.

The door opened again and they all left together, happy to have been able to save their lives once again.

You were about to leave but before you could, one of them pulled you over with his arm around your shoulders with great confidence and shouted victoriously. "If we change her mind, we'll have another point in our favor!" he exclaimed, the number 388, pointing at the blue circle on your chest. "I don't understand."

"In the next vote, we want these games to end" said 456.

You remained silent again, not knowing what to answer. You didn't want to leave, or at least not yet. You wanted to gather more than enough money for your husband. Without realizing it, the same look as before fell on you.

[...]

There was a certain tension in the room, the participants had not yet voted but it was clear that the results would be almost even.

"My husband... has stage three lung cancer..." the woman murmured with her eyes downcast. "The doctors say that he can be cured, they would only remove the cancerous tumor but he would have to undergo several consultations and therapies that we cannot afford." The players surrounding her looked at her with pity and empathy. "I have already sold... many of our belongings, I have double shifts at work, I even mortgaged my house but it is not enough... and if I do not get enough money I will lose everything..." She did not even notice when the tears fell from her eyes without stopping.

It was horrible, most of them had debts but she would be left on the street and a widow if she did not get what she needed.

In-ho watched her silently as he bit his inner right cheek, the situation she was going through was not very different from the one he experienced, he knew that feeling of helplessness, of wanting to scream to the world how much he hated it for those cards of destiny "Does your husband know you came here?" he asked softly walking towards her to sit next to her.

She shook her head softly, wiping her tears with the sleeve of his jacket. "I just told him that I had found a way to get a lot of money." Now, that was cruel, even if she didn't achieve his goal and died on the way, her husband would think that she had abandoned him, along with his debts. "I want to go back home," she said after a few seconds of silence. "I think it's time to end this." She would vote to leave. The money they had so far was still not the amount they required, but it would be very helpful.

"You will get out of here," 001 said, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving her a slight closed-lip smile.

It was strange to feel that comforting and warm feeling from a stranger, but she was grateful for it. They say that eyes say more than words, and the look he gave her was one of genuine empathy.

As if he understood her in her current state of life.

"We'll get out of here," 456 now assured her with a nod.

Her knew them very little but without much hesitation her trusted them, even when Gi-hun told them about his plan on how to confront the guards and reach the people who led these games she agreed to help them, she needed the prize but not at the cost of more innocent deaths.

However, In-ho was not very happy about her following them, from the little he had read about her in her file he knew that she didn't hurt a fly, it would be useless to take her. Besides, the time to play in the yard was over, it was time to return to the command where he belonged and he didn't want the girl to be involved in this. But unfortunately for him he had no other option but to say "After you" as they left there being guided by the guard.

He was supposed to keep control over his emotions but it was inevitable, when he realized she was already too deep in his mind to let her die.

It was as if he had a chance to help his past self, that poor man who fell into misery being reflected by the young woman inexperienced in weapons who only sought to keep the love of her life alive.

It was an ironic and cruel letter from his destiny.

[stargazsblog]

how to lose a girl in 10 days | ch.3 second move

ryomen sukuna x fem!reader

ʚɞ ryomen sukuna is tall, devastatingly handsome, and the campus heartbreaker. everyone knows his name, and his reputation for leaving girls with broken hearts. but then there's you uninterested and completely unimpressed by him. you're the only girl who couldn't care less about him. when his friends tease him about it, everything changes. they challenge him with a bet to make you, the one person who isn't affected by his charm, fall in love with him in just 10 days, sukuna accepts the challenge, thinking it'll be an easy win. it's just a game, a way to prove he can get any girl he wants. but the more time he spends with you, he finds himself wanting something he never expected.

ʚɞ warning/tags: angst, fluff, romance, use of cigarettes and alcohol, jealousy, asshole sukuna, heartbreak, inspired by how to lose a guy in 10 days, college au, enemies to lovers.

ʚɞ now playing - no. 1 party anthem by arctic monkeys

masterlist

note: new chapter! this one took awhile to write but i hope u love!! happy new year <3

The ring of the doorbell jolted you awake, pulling an annoyed groan from your lips. You turned over in your bed, calling out, “Shoko, can you get the door?” Your voice was muffled against your pillow, and you waited, hoping for the sound of her footsteps.

Nothing. No response.

The doorbell rang again, this time louder. You let out a frustrated sigh, throwing off the blankets as you dragged yourself out of bed. “Seriously, Shoko?” you muttered under your breath, shuffling to your bedroom door. You made your way to the front door, each step heavy with sleep-induced annoyance.

When you opened the door, the sight before you gave you pause. No one was there.

Your gaze dropped to the ground.

A massive bouquet of roses sat on your doorstep. You blinked, momentarily stunned.

“What the…?” you murmured, crouching to pick up the bouquet. It was heavier than you expected, the delicate scent of roses filling the air.

Closing the door behind you, you carried the flowers into the living room, setting them down on the table. Shoko, now leaning against the kitchen doorway with a steaming mug of coffee in hand, raised an eyebrow at the sight.

“What’s with the flowers?” she asked, taking a sip.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, still staring at the extravagant bouquet. “Maybe they’re for you?”

Shoko shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t think so. Check for a note.”

Spotting a small envelope tucked among the flowers, you pulled it out and opened it. Your stomach flipped when you read the words.

“thought these were almost as stunning as you let me know if they compare – sukuna”

You felt your heart skip a beat as you stared at the note. Sukuna? Your brow furrowed in confusion. Why would Ryomen Sukuna, of all people, send you flowers?

“Sukuna?” you repeated aloud, more to yourself than Shoko.

“How does he even know where we live?” you asked, a mix of confusion and suspicion in your voice.

“Oh… I may or may not have taken Geto home the other night. And he might have told Sukuna where we live.”

Your head snapped toward her, eyes wide. “What?! You hooked up with Geto? And you didn’t tell me this?”

Shoko shrugged nonchalantly, setting her mug down. “It didn’t seem relevant at the time. It was just a fling. No big deal.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “No big deal? Shoko, this guy knows where we live! Do you know how creepy that is?”

“Relax,” Shoko said with a chuckle, clearly enjoying your distress. “It’s not like he’s lurking outside your window or something. He just… sent flowers.”

You groaned, sinking into the chair next to the table. “Great. Just what I needed. First he buys me snacks and now he’s sending me flowers? What’s his deal?”

“Maybe he likes you,” Shoko teased, her grin widening.

You shot her a glare. “That’s not funny.”

“No, but this whole situation is.” She chuckled, You had barely had time to response when your phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with an incoming message from Ryomen Sukuna.

You hesitated for a moment, your fingers hovering over the screen. Was he really texting you already? What could he possibly want now?

You unlocked your phone, bracing yourself as you read his message.

12:20PM Sukuna Ryomen: so how’d you like the flowers?

You frowned. So he’s really going to go there? You glanced over at Shoko.

“Shoko… Sukuna just texted me.”

Shoko raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your discomfort. “Well, well, look at that. He’s not wasting time.”

You glanced back at the message, unsure whether to ignore it or respond. You couldn’t help it, this was unexpected. After a few seconds, you typed out a reply.

12:20PM You: why did you send them? what do you want?

You hit send and sat back, unsure whether you’d made the right call. It felt a bit too direct, but you didn’t care.

Your phone buzzed again, and you jumped slightly, then glanced down at his response.

12:20PM Sukuna Ryomen: no need to overthink it i just thought you deserved something nice

“What does that even mean?” you muttered aloud.

You typed out another reply, trying to keep your cool.

12:21PM You: just a random act of kindness then? what’s the catch

You waited, feeling the tension rise as you glanced at Shoko, who was still watching with amusement.

The text pinged almost immediately.

12:21PM Sukuna Ryomen: no catch just thought you might like them unless you don’t then I’ll send you something better

You stared at the message, your stomach doing a strange little flip.

“Okay, now he’s just being cocky,” you said, shaking your head, showing shoko the text.

Shoko stares at your phone, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “That’s the fun part. He’s definitely interested.”

You let out a sigh, running a hand through your hair. Great. What was happening here? You barely knew Sukuna. Sure, everyone on campus knew who he was, the tall, cocky heartbreaker, but you’d never even had a proper conversation with him.

Now, suddenly, he was everywhere. Sending flowers, finding excuses to cross your path, and even inviting you to parties. It wasn’t normal.

Your chest tightened at the thought. Something is definitely going on… and you don’t like it.

What did Sukuna even want? Was this just another conquest for him? Another name to add to his list?

“Earth to you,” Shoko’s voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality.

“You’re overthinking again.”

“I’m not overthinking,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “I just don’t get it. Why me? He could have anyone on campus, and he usually does. So why is he suddenly obsessed with showing up in my life?”

Shoko shrugged, but her smirk didn’t waver. “Maybe he finally met someone he can’t figure out. Guys like Sukuna hate not being in control. You’re probably driving him insane.”

“Good,” you shot back quickly, but the unease in your chest didn’t go away. Sukuna wasn’t just annoying—he was persistent, calculating, and way too good at getting what he wanted. And right now, you were in his sights.

And that was a problem.

"Shoko, please, I don't wanna go," you begged, standing at the doorway of your room as she rummaged through your closet. The hangers clinked together as she shifted through your clothes, her focus unwavering.

"I swear, if you don't go to this party, I'll never let you live it down." Shoko's voice was light, teasing, but there was a persistence behind it that you knew well.

She wasn't going to give up until you were dressed and ready to walk out that door.

You flopped down onto your bed, burying your face in your hands. "I already went to one party yesterday, and nothing happened. What's the point of going again?"

Shoko pulled out a short black dress and held it up, eyeing it with approval. "Except this time, you've got Sukuna inviting you."

You threw your arms up in frustration. "Yeah, so what? It's not like he actually cares. He's probably just doing this to mess with me. I'm not his type, and I'm definitely not falling for whatever act he's putting on."

Shoko leaned against the wall, unbothered by your complaints. "I'm not saying you have to fall for him, but you're not going to get anywhere by avoiding him. He's clearly paying attention to you, and you're not going to know what he's really about unless you go and talk to him."

You sat up on your bed, staring at her in disbelief.

"Why does it matter? I don't want to deal with him. I don't want to go to another party just to have him act like he's the center of the universe."

Shoko grinned like she knew exactly how to push your buttons. "Because, whether you like it or not, you've got his attention. You're not going to find out anything if you keep running from him. Plus, if you don't go, he's just going to think you're scared."

You slumped back onto your bed, exhaling deeply. "I just don't want to make a fool of myself."

Shoko walked over and sat next to you, nudging your shoulder. "Look, I know he's a pain. But you're strong enough to handle him. If you don't go, you'll just be left wondering what could have happened, and that'll drive you crazy. You don't want to keep playing the ‘what if' game forever."

You stared at her, your frustration building. "So, you think if I go, he's just going to magically be less of a jerk? What if he's just messing with me like he does with everyone else?"

Shoko chuckled softly, standing up and holding up a dress. "I'm not saying he'll be perfect, but you'll never know unless you show up. And if he really is that bad, then you'll have the satisfaction of knowing you weren't the one falling for it."

You sighed, the thought of facing Sukuna again making your stomach turn. But part of you couldn't help wondering what his deal really was. "I just don't want to deal with him."

Shoko raised an eyebrow. "Then don't deal with him.

“Go, enjoy yourself, and don't let him have the power to bother you. He invited you for a reason, and if you don't show up, he'll just just bother you even more."

You hesitated, chewing on your lip. You didn't want to go, but the idea of leaving things unresolved with Sukuna was nagging at you. "Fine," you muttered, finally giving in. "But don't say I didn't warn you when I end up miserable the whole time."

Shoko grinned, practically bouncing with excitement.

"I knew you'd come around! Now, get ready. We're going to show him how hot you are!"

You stared at the dress in your hands, running your fingers over the sparkly fabric. It was shorter than anything you'd ever worn before, the tightness of the material hugging your curves in a way you weren't used to.

With a deep sigh, you headed to your bathroom to change. The tight fabric clung to your skin as you slipped it on, the black dress glimmering with every movement. You didn't feel like yourself in it, but there was no turning back now. The dress barely reached mid-thigh, the hemline sitting just above your knees.

It showcased your hip dips, and the sparkle caught the light, making you feel exposed.

You stared at your reflection, arms crossing over your chest as you tried to will the discomfort away. The dress was beautiful, but it felt like it was wearing you instead of the other way around. You pulled at the fabric slightly, wishing it were a little looser, but it was perfectly fitted-almost like it was designed to demand attention.

You turned back to the door, hearing Shoko's voice coming from the other side. "You almost done?

“Come on, hurry up!"

You sighed and opened the door, stepping out into your bedroom. Shoko immediately turned to face you, a pleased grin crossing her face as she took in your appearance. "See? you look fucking hot.”

You glared at her. "I hate how tight this thing is," you muttered, tugging at the edges. You still couldn't get over how exposed you felt.

Shoko tilted her head, her eyes scanning you up and down. "You look sexy. And don't even try to pretend like you don't know it. The dress is doing all the work for you."

You shot her a side-eye, clearly not convinced. “It's too... much."

"It's not "too much,” she said with a playful smirk, grabbing the black heels she'd given you. "It's exactly what you need. Go, have fun, and let Sukuna see that how hot you are. You're owning this look, whether you want to or not."

You hesitated, staring at your reflection one last time.

The dress did make you look... different. More confident. Maybe it was the sparkle that made you feel like you could shine, even if you didn't want to.

You slipped on the heels, feeling your posture shift as you stood taller. You looked at Shoko.

"You better not make me regret this.”

Shoko grinned, “I won't promise. Now, let me put on some makeup.”

The music was already thumping when you and Shoko walked into the house, the bass rattling the floor beneath your heels. The place was packed, people swaying to the beat or crowded into clusters, shouting over the noise. You tugged at the hem of your dress, still feeling self-conscious as you followed closely behind Shoko.

Shoko grabbed your wrist and pulling you off to the side, away from the thick of the crowd. "Listen," she said, her tone softer now. "If you're not feeling it, just let me know, and we'll leave. I'm not going to make you stay if it gets to be too much, okay?"

You hesitated, her seriousness catching you off guard.

"Okay," you muttered, glancing around the room. “But don't disappear on me."

Shoko grinned, patting your arm. "I won't. You've got this."

Before you could say anything else, a familiar voice cut through the noise, making your stomach drop.

"Well, well, you actually showed up."

You turned to see Sukuna. He looked really good, dressed in a fitted black shirt that showed off his toned arms and just enough of his tattoos to make him look effortlessly cool.

You immediately stiffened, your guard going up.

"Unfortunately," you muttered under your breath, but he heard it, the smirk on his face only growing wider.

"Don't sound too excited, sweetheart," he teased, his eyes briefly flicking to Shoko before returning to you.

He let his gaze sweep over you, slowly, his tongue running over his lips as he did. "I was starting to think you were avoiding me."

"Maybe I was," you shot back, folding your arms over your chest.

Sukuna chuckled, the sound low and infuriatingly self-assured. He took a step closer, his gaze dipping ever so slightly to take in the curve of your dress before flicking back up to your face. The way he looked at you, slow and deliberate, made your skin heat—though whether it was from irritation or something else, you weren’t sure.

“Can’t blame you,” he said. “But you’re here now, and that’s what matters, right?”

You narrowed your eyes, refusing to let him get under your skin. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not here for you.”

“Sure,” he drawled, leaning against the wall like he had all the time in the world. “You just happened to show up to the party I invited you to, wearing that.”

Your jaw tightened, and you squared your shoulders. “What I wear has nothing to do with you.”

“Doesn’t it?” His voice dropped, the playful edge replaced with something darker, more intense. His eyes roamed over you again, lingering just long enough to make you want to punch him.

“Don’t test me, Sukuna,” you snapped, your voice sharp enough to make Shoko glance between the two of you with raised brows.

He grinned, utterly unbothered by your tone. If anything, he seemed more amused, like he enjoyed riling you up. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m just saying you look good.”

“Did I ask for your opinion?”

“No,” he said easily, his smirk widening. “But you’ve got it anyway.”

Shoko cleared her throat, her expression caught between amusement and concern. “Well, this is fun,” she said lightly. “But I’m going to grab a drink. You good?”

You gave her a tight nod, watching as she disappeared into the crowd. The second she was out of sight, Sukuna closed the gap between you, his presence immediately overwhelming

Sukuna glanced at Shoko walking away, then back to you, his gaze softening just a little, but the cocky smile never wavered. “She didn’t get you a drink?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.

“No,” you replied dryly.

Sukuna stepped closer, his closeness almost making you take a step back, though you tried to stand your ground. “I could get you something. Whatever you want.”

“I’m fine,” you repeated, your voice tight. “And I didn’t ask for anything from you.”

“Sure you didn’t.” He chuckled, and there was something almost teasing in the way his eyes lingered on you. “But that dress? You’re asking for something.”

You tensed, resisting the urge to snap back. “I came here to hang out with my friend, not to be ogled by you.”

He stepped back, feigning mock hurt. “I’m just admiring your taste in fashion. But I’m guessing you didn’t come here to be sober all night either.”

And he was right, you knew how annoyed you’d be with Sukuna, so you figured you’d need something to take the edge off.

You gave him an unamused look. “I’m not your project to fix.”

“Maybe not.” He shrugged. “But I’ll be around if you change your mind.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, a girl approached from the crowd, her voice dripping with flirtation.

“Sukuna,” she said, her voice laced with sweetness as she placed a hand on his arm. “I missed you last night. You just left without saying goodbye.”

Her gaze shifted toward you, and her smile faltered for just a second, her eyes narrowing slightly as she sized you up. “Is this your girlfriend?”

Sukuna simply shrugged. “Nah,” he said dismissively, like it didn’t matter. “Not my girlfriend.

The girl didn’t seem to care, her smile staying in place as she leaned a little closer to him. “Well, maybe tonight, you’ll stick around longer,” she said, her voice sweet as she twirled a lock of her hair.

But Sukuna didn’t seem all that interested in her attention. With a casual flick of his wrist, he lightly pushed her off his arm, not even looking down at her. “You’re in my way,” he said, completely nonchalant.

The girl blinked in surprise but quickly recovered. She didn’t seem to know how to react, standing there for a moment before scoffing and walking away, muttering under her breath.

You couldn’t help but notice how effortless Sukuna had been in dismissing her. He didn’t even look bothered, and it almost seemed like the girl was just an annoyance to him.

Turning his attention back to you, his smirk was back, as if the whole encounter had been nothing more than a brief interruption. “Jealous?” he asked, his voice low and playful.

You arched an eyebrow, trying not to let your annoyance show. “Not even close,” you replied, crossing your arms.

He leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowing just enough to show that he wasn’t buying it. “That’s a lie, sweetheart. You’re not fooling anyone.”

You stepped back, uncomfortable under his gaze, but refused to let him win this little game. “I’m not interested in whatever game you’re playing,” you said firmly, your voice steady.

Sukuna tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “I’m not playing a game,” he said softly, the words almost too quiet for the music around you to drown out.

The tension between you two was noticeable, thick enough to cut through the noise of the party around you. And for a moment, neither of you spoke, just standing there, locked in this strange, unspoken understanding.

Before you could respond, Shoko suddenly appeared next to you, a drink in her hand. “You okay?” she asked, looking between you and Sukuna.

You let out a breath, forcing yourself to relax. “Yeah, just fine,” you said quickly, turning your attention to your friend.

Sukuna didn’t seem bothered by the interruption. In fact, he just nodded, as if he was used to things playing out this way. “Don’t let her scare you off,” he said casually to Shoko, though his eyes were still on you.

Shoko shot him a playful look before leaning in closer to you. “I’m just here to make sure you’re not falling for his charm,” she whispered, making sure Sukuna could hear. “But you seem to be handling it just fine.”

You smiled at her, grateful for the brief distraction. Sukuna didn’t say a word, but the look in his eyes said everything. He wasn’t done with you yet. With a scoff, he turned and walked away.

“Here,” Shoko said, handing you the drink. “You probably needed this.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, still feeling a little intimidated from Sukuna’s attention.

Shoko noticed this. “What happened? Was he being a little too much?”

You sighed and leaned against the counter. “You could say that.”

“Is it really that bad?” she asked, leaning in to talk more quietly. “I don’t know. I think you’ve got him curious.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m interested,” you shot back quickly.

Shoko shrugged, not at all fazed by your response. “I know, I know. But still… he’s kind of hard to resist, right?” She gave you a sly smile. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you about Geto. He’s been texting me all day. I’m honestly not sure what I’m doing with him anymore, though.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I thought you two were just having fun?”

“Well, we are, but… you know how it is.” Shoko waved her hand in the air dismissively. “Sometimes he acts all detached, and then he’ll show up out of nowhere like everything’s normal. He’s confusing, honestly.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Shoko had always played it cool, but it was clear she was a little unsure of where things stood with Geto. You didn’t press the issue, though, since you knew she’d tell you when she was ready.

Before you could respond, Gojo’s voice cut through the noise of the party, casual and upbeat as usual.

“Well, look who it is. The mysterious Shoko!”

You turned just in time to see Gojo walking over, his sunglasses perched on top of his head and that ever-present grin plastered on his face. He had the kind of confidence that was almost irritating, but you couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Hey, Gojo,” Shoko said, barely looking up from her drink. “You know I don’t like being called mysterious.”

Gojo chuckled, leaning in a little too close as he looked at you. “Oh, and who’s this?” His eyes twinkled mischievously. “Shoko, you’ve been holding out on me?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Not at all,” you said, keeping your tone light but firm. “I just don’t usually run in the same circles.”

Gojo let out a loud laugh. “Fair enough. But, if you ever decide to upgrade your circle, you know who to talk to.” He flashed a wink, then finally noticed your drink. “I’ll get you something better,” he said, turning toward the bar.

“Don’t bother,” you replied dryly. “I’m fine.”

Gojo just gave you a nod, understanding, and turned toward the crowd, disappearing into the throng of partygoers.

“Sorry about him,” Shoko muttered.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, shaking your head. “He’s harmless.”

Just then, Geto appeared, his presence a quiet different to Gojo’s loud antics. His gaze immediately found Shoko, and his expression softened, the tension you saw earlier melting away as he moved closer. Without saying a word, he slid an arm around her, pulling her in gently.

“Hi, babe,” Geto said quietly, his voice carrying just the right amount of affection.

“Hey,” Shoko responded, smiling up at him. “You surviving the chaos?”

“Barely,” Geto replied with a chuckle. “But it’s worth it now that you’re here.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the two of them. Even though you’d only just found out about their ‘relationship’, it was nice to see them together

“it’s good to see you,” Geto said, finally turning to face you fully. His smile was polite, but it didn’t reach his eyes the way it did when he looked at Shoko. “Shoko’s mentioned you a few times.”

You nodded, unsure how to respond. “She probably talks a lot about you, too,” you said, knowing it was a lie. Shoko had only mentioned him once.

Geto chuckled, though his expression was unreadable. “I’m sure she does. She’s not the type to hold back.”

Gojo cut in, grabbing a drink off a nearby table and offering it to you with a bright smile.

“Come on, take it,” he insisted. “I’m trying to make sure you’re having a good time.”

You glanced at Shoko, who gave you an almost unnoticeable nod, as if giving you permission to go along with it. After a brief moment of hesitation, you took the drink from Gojo.

“Thanks,” you said, your voice steady despite the slight tension in the air. Gojo grinned, completely unfazed by the moment.

“Anytime,” he said, his eyes glinting with playful mischief. “Just don’t let Shoko keep you all to herself, alright?”

You nodded at his words, glancing away as your eyes searched for Sukuna. It was strange that he wasn’t with his friends. As you scanned the room, you finally spotted him in the corner with a girl. Before you could make out what was happening, Geto let out a small cough, drawing your attention back. His voice was quiet but steady as he spoke again. “So, how have you been? I don’t think we’ve really had a chance to talk much.”

You blinked, surprised by his sudden shift in tone. “I’ve been fine. You know, the usual stuff. School and all that.”

Geto nodded thoughtfully. “Sounds like you’ve got things under control.” His gaze lingered on you for a moment, as if he was taking in more than just your words.

“Yeah,” you replied, unsure if there was more he wanted to say. It felt strange, like you were both trying to navigate the boundaries of something unspoken.

Gojo, sensing the shift, decided to add his usual touch of chaos to break the tension. “Alright, enough serious talk. We’re here to have fun, not talk about boring stuff. Right?”

Gojo leaned back casually against the wall, sipping his drink and letting his gaze wander around the party. “So,” he started, his grin mischievous as ever. “What’s it like living with Shoko? I imagine she has some… red flags.”

Shoko smacked his arm, rolling her eyes. “Don’t even start, Gojo. I’m a delight.”

You smirked. “She’s not lying. Living with Shoko’s pretty chill. Except for when she leaves coffee mugs everywhere.”

“Not everywhere,” Shoko interrupted. “Just… places.”

“You left one in the bathroom last week,” you deadpanned, and Gojo let out a loud laugh.

“Classic Shoko,” he said, shaking his head. “I bet Geto didn’t know you were a coffee hoarder.”

Shoko shot him a sharp look, her cheeks coloring slightly. “He’s not here to hear about my habits.”

Geto chuckled softly, watching the two of you with an amused expression. “It’s fine. I’ve seen worse.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you’ve already seen her coffee-stash phase?” Gojo teased, raising an eyebrow. “Interesting. Very interesting.”

Shoko groaned. “Ignore him. He gets worse the longer he’s at these things.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” Gojo countered, his grin widening. His attention turned to you again, and he pointed at your drink. “You’re keeping up, right? No slacking.”

You raised the cup slightly in mock acknowledgment. “I’m pacing myself. Someone has to stay sober.”

“Smart,” Geto commented, his tone measured. He looked over at Shoko, then back to you, as if debating whether to say something. Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter now. “So, how’d Shoko convince you to come out tonight?”

“She gave me a pep talk,” you replied, casting a faint smile at Shoko. “I guess I just needed a break.”

“She’s good at that,” Geto said, his voice carrying a warmth that made Shoko glance at him, her lips curving into a small smile. “Pulling people out of their routines.”

You nodded, sipping your drink. “She’s definitely good at that.”

The moment felt oddly intimate, even with Gojo’s constant interruptions and the background noise of the party. You could feel Geto’s gaze linger just a little longer than expected, and Shoko seemed acutely aware of it, though she said nothing.

Gojo, never one to let things settle too long, broke the moment with a loud laugh. “Well, I’d say tonight’s shaping up to be interesting. Who knows? Maybe you’ll end up actually having fun.”

“Don’t jinx it,” you muttered, earning another laugh from him.

“Alright, alright,” Gojo said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll behave, for now.”

Geto shook his head, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “That’s the best we can hope for.”

Shoko nudged your arm lightly. “Come on. Let’s find a spot to sit before Gojo gets us dragged into something.”

You nodded, grateful for the escape, but as the two of you started to move away, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Geto’s gaze following you.

You glanced back briefly, only to catch Geto and Gojo talking in hushed tones, their expressions unreadable. Whatever they were saying, it wasn’t meant for you to hear.

Shoko was nowhere to be found again, and you were left alone in the kitchen, trying to collect your thoughts as the weight of the party surrounded you. You hadn't planned to drink much, but somehow you found your cup refilled a few times, the alcohol making your thoughts blurrier and your resolve a little weaker.

That's when you felt it again, his presence. Sukuna.

He was never far, it seemed.

You could feel the pull of his eyes from across the room, and before you knew it, he was standing beside you, leaning casually against the counter.

"You're still here?" he asked, his voice low, almost teasing. He gave you a look that told you he knew exactly what was happening.

You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain your composure. "Would you leave me alone already?"

“So,” Sukuna ignored your words, his voice taking on a slightly softer tone. “What did you think of the flowers?”

You raised an eyebrow, a hint of confusion in your voice. “I thought I already told you.”

Sukana replied, his tone casual yet with an underlying intensity. “Yeah, but you didn’t seem genuine over text. Just wanted to make sure you actually liked them.” You didn’t respond, still confused about what he was asking.

“The flowers,” he repeated, crossing his arms. “The ones I sent you. Did you like them?”

For a moment, you couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or setting up another one of his smug remarks. “They were… nice,” you said cautiously.

“Nice?” he echoed. “I think that’s the most lame reaction I’ve ever gotten.”

“I didn’t ask for them,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “So forgive me if I don’t fall at your feet in gratitude.”

Sukuna tilted his head, watching you with a glint in his eye that made you feel both irritated and slightly uneasy. “You’re hard to impress, aren’t you?”

“That's because I’m not interested,” you replied firmly.

“Right,” he drawled, his tone skeptical but not unkind. “So that’s why you kept them.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his observation. “How do you know I kept them?”

He grinned, and he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make the moment feel more intimate. “Because if you didn’t, you would’ve told me by now. You’re not shy about speaking your mind, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you hated the way he always seemed to find a way under your skin. “Maybe I did throw them away,” you muttered, looking away.

Sukuna's lips twitched into a smile, clearly amused by you. "What a shame," he said, leaning closer, his body just inches from yours. "Because I could've sworn you were warming up to me."

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog from your mind, but it wasn't working. The alcohol had already taken its toll, and you could feel the way your body reacted to his nearness, even though you were determined to stay in control.

"I'm not warming up to anything," you muttered. The alcohol was making your thoughts slow, and the way Sukuna was looking at you made everything feel like it was happening in slow motion.

He smirked, leaning in a little further until his breath was warm against your ear. "You sure about that?" His voice was a husky whisper, sending a shiver down your spine. "Because I can't help but notice the way you keep glancing at me. You want to be close, don't you?"

Your eyes met his in a gaze that held all the unspoken tension between you. "You think you know everything, don't you?" Your voice came out quieter than you intended, and you weren't sure if you wanted him to pull away or pull you closer.

Sukuna didn't answer you. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm as he stepped in even closer. His lips barely brushed the skin of your neck, and the sensation made your head spin.

"Don't fight it," he murmured, his hand now resting at the small of your back, pulling you gently toward him. "I can tell you want this just as much as I do."

Your head was spinning a little, but you couldn't deny the truth in his words. The attraction was undeniable, and no matter how much you tried to ignore it, it was there, tugging you toward him.

With a slight sway, you felt your body move closer to his, the alcohol making you bold, making everything feel a little more... daring. Before you knew it, your arm slid around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, your face just inches from his. You could feel the heat of his skin, the tension in the air thickening with every breath.

He gave you a half-smirk, one eyebrow raised, the challenge in his eyes clear. "Kiss me," he murmured, his voice velvet against your ear, the words hanging between you like a promise. "I know you want to."

For a moment, you almost gave in. The alcohol, the tension, the undeniable pull between you, it all felt too strong. You could feel his lips just a breath away, your eyes fluttering closed. But then, you stopped yourself. You couldn't do this. Not with him.

You pulled back quickly, pushing against his chest to create some distance. Your breathing was heavy, and your thoughts were clouded.

But before either of you could say anything, the door to the kitchen swung open with a sharp creak.

"Really?" Shoko's voice cut through the moment. You both snapped back in an instant, startled, as she leaned casually in the doorway with her arms crossed. Her eyes scanned between you and Sukuna, amusement dancing in her expression. "I leave you alone for five minutes, and this is what happens?"

You froze, heart pounding in your chest, as Sukuna remained unfazed, a smirk curling at the edges of his lips.

Shoko raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered. "Guess we're skipping the 'will-they-won't-they' phase tonight, huh?" She chuckled and shook her head. "Let's go. I'm getting you out of here before you do something you'll regret."

You wanted to protest, to stay, but the tension in the air was thick, and you could feel your head spinning from the alcohol. As you turned to follow Shoko, you heard Sukuna's voice, low and teasing. "See you later, sweetheart."

You wanted to punch yourself. You hated Sukuna, so why the hell had you almost kissed him? You knew it was the alcohol talking over you, but still… why did it feel so damn good?

He leaned against the counter, watching you disappear into the crowd, your figure disappearing behind a few people. Sukuna's smirk deepened. Day two and he already had you exactly where he wanted.

another note: it felt a little weird making them almost kiss in only the third chapter but i remembered sukuna would probably try to make a move on her like kissing or sleeping with her because he thinks that’s how she’ll fall for him it just makes sense for his character! also was listening to ‘that’s so true’ by gracie abrams and that song is so sukuna and reader

taglist: @clp-84 @ssetsuka @lymsfm @monic19 @bol0-de-morang0 @strxberryicecream @r0ckst4rjk @gojocumslut @elliebelliegi @kazuuhali @luna-v-roiya @sussiesushi @nakiich @mourart7 @neuvilletteswife4ever @rusted-dolly @blueyesuguru @lillycore @yourhornysister @bnbaochauuu @ferretsqueen @anonnieghost @boogiemansbitch @sukubusss @sterzin @miazzzma @silkija @blueemochii @number0netrash @aldebrana @emoedgylord @cherixheri @jxeon @paradisestarfishh @bananaminn @reisore @monkeycheeks-lvl26

[writing-the-stars]

Unspoken, Unheard

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader; Platonic!Morgan x Reader

Summary: In the midst of a high-stakes case, you face the terrifying task of being bait for a dangerous unsub. As the mission spirals out of control, the unacknowledged bond between you and Hotch is tested, forcing him to confront the risks of letting his heart lead in a world where vulnerability could mean losing everything.

Warnings: Angst (It's Who I Am), Emotional Distance (On Hotch's End. Go Figure), Canon-Typical Violence, Body Injury (Very Minor), No Use of Y/N or Physical Descriptors, Happy Ending. Let Me Know If I Forgot Something

Word Count: 6.6k (This was a BEAST)

A/N: Happy New Year!!! This is my very first Criminal Minds fic EVER AND my first story of the new year!! I have been a fan of this show for such a looong time. So I'm really excited to be introducing this as a fandom I write for. I have been hyperfixating on Hotch for a while now (something about stoic, emotionally unavailable people really gets me). Anyway, this really was a labor of love and a passion project. Thank you all for reading! I truly hope you enjoy. Have a wonderful day!

Masterlist | Criminal Minds Masterlist

A sudden sharp, insistent knocking echoes through the quiet hotel room, jolting you from your restless sleep. Adrenaline surges through your veins, heart thrumming in your ears, as you instinctively reach for the weapon on your nightstand. Blinking against the fog of your interrupted sleep, your mind races, trying to make sense of what ripped you from your sleep.

You listen carefully, waiting to hear if there is anything that could give you context to your current situation. But the silence returns, as if it had never been broken. You approach the door cautiously, your fingers curling tightly around the handle of your gun. Pressing your eye to the peephole, you freeze when you see Hotch standing on the other side. Relief floods through you and you exhale shakily, but only for a moment as you come to the grim realization that there must be another victim. You set your weapon down, running a hand over your head as you prepare yourself for the bad news and a new case development.

But as you open the door, your rehearsed professionalism falters.

Hotch is far from the professional, composed self he presents to the world. His dark hair is unkempt, the gel that usually holds it perfectly in place seemingly forgotten. His v-neck shirt hangs loose around his clavicle, giving you a glimpse of his defined pectorals, and his pajama pants pool awkwardly at his feet, as if he didn’t pull them up all the way before reaching you. The typical mask of calm authority he wears is nowhere to be found as he stares at you with wide, haunted eyes, face pale and glistening with sweat.

There is clear tension in his posture, his breathing a little too shallow and his expression a little too tight. You’ve never seen your friend like this before. Something unnerved him and quite frankly it was starting to rattle you too. 

Hotch hadn’t really thought any of this through. The visceral image of your body disfigured and mutilated just like the victims of this case filled him with raw terror. He needed to see you.

He had to make sure you were safe. He needed to know that you were alive and still intact. To know that you will still look up at him with that wide-eyed gaze filled with so much trust and quiet adoration that it makes his guarded heart falter. To know that when a case is too heavy and you all are exhausted and frayed at the edges, you will still throw him one of those smiles— one that tells him you still believe in him, that you know he will get you all through it. That you are still his team. To know that he will still hear the warmth of your laughter around the bullpen, cutting through the darkest of days at the BAU because you just had that way about you. That quiet, effortless brightness that made the worst days bearable. And he knew it wasn't just the job you were good at; it was the way you kept everyone together.

Most of all, he needed to know that you would still be you. That this job hadn’t taken you away from him— that it hadn’t stolen one more thing he couldn’t bear to lose.

But as the seconds stretch on, the initial terror that gripped him so tightly begins to subside and his mind begins to regain control. The logical Hotch starts to take over, reminding him that everything is fine. That it was only a dream, an irrational fabrication, and he is not the kind of person to allow emotions to overrun his decisions. 

He’s being reckless and this moment of weakness could jeopardize the team, and everything he has worked so hard to build. He needs to turn and leave before this situation gets any more out of hand, but it’s too late. The lock clicks. The door swings open and there you are, alive and whole. His breath catches. He had feared the worst— no, not feared, he’d seen the worst in his nightmare— but you’re here, standing right in front of him. The sheer relief almost makes his knees buckle. 

“Hotch?” 

Your voice is soft but laced with concern, the sight of him so disheveled, so unguarded, sets off a ripple of panic in your chest, “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

For a moment, he doesn’t answer. He stands there, staring at you as though he can’t believe you are standing in front of him. His mouth opens, but no words come out. His chest heaves with uneven breaths, and his eyes dart across your face, taking in every detail as though memorizing it.

“Hotch?” you repeat, your brows knitting together, “What’s wrong?”

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost hoarse, a shallow attempt at the calm, authoritative tone he usually uses. 

“I just… wanted to make sure you’re alright. We’ve been up late. Thought you might need to check in."

His words are careful, almost rehearsed, but you still hear the vulnerability he’s trying to mask. His eyes dart away from yours, down to the floor, and you can almost see him retreating into himself, as if he’s trying to hide from you. 

"Are you sure you’re okay?" you press a little, unable to ignore the worry curling in your chest. This isn’t just about the case. Something deeper is going on, and you aren’t going to disregard it. 

You step out a little into the hallway, bringing yourself closer to Hotch, trying to gauge if you’re reading him wrong. But this isn’t like him— Hotch wouldn’t show up at your door in the middle of the night without reason.

He looks as if he is barely holding himself together. You know him well enough to know when something is wrong, and in this moment, everything about him screams that he is on edge. It isn’t just exhaustion or stress— it’s something more that seems to be warring with him.

His lips press together in a tight line and you can see the muscles in his neck contract. "I’m fine," he says quickly, urgingly, as if he is trying to convince you and himself. 

The wall of his facade is fissuring and, for the first time since knowing Aaron Hotchner, you feel like he might finally let you in. You push a little harder, hoping that acknowledging the crack in his armor will finally shatter the whole illusion. 

“Hotch, you’re not fine,” you say softly, your voice almost a whisper, “Why don’t you come in for some coffee? I still have some of the good stuff Rossi bought me for Secret Santa.”

Hotch opens his mouth, but the words get tangled, and he immediately closes it again. His throat is tight, seemingly collapsing on itself. There are so many things he wants to say to you. Truths he wants to reveal, but he can’t. He can’t bring himself to venture into that unknown territory, to cross that line that’s already too blurry. There are too many things at stake, too many risks he can’t afford to take. He can not allow his feelings to complicate things any further. 

He takes a step back, and in doing so, you watch him fully retreat into himself, restructuring the wall you had come so close to tearing down. Perhaps you pushed too hard. 

He regains the professional composure you have grown accustomed to seeing. His usual authority slips into something sharp, more distant. "We’re on the job," he says, his voice harder, defensive, "There’s no time for that."

His words sting and you feel a pang of hurt as he continues to shut you out. But you remember who Hotch is. This isn’t about you. This is about him, about whatever had shaken him. Hotch has built walls higher than you can scale. Walls that even you—someone who knows him better than most—aren’t allowed to breach.

"Get some rest," he adds, the words flat and sterile, "We’ll need you ready tomorrow."

Your window for something more is closing, and you can’t bring yourself to stop it. You know what’s happening.

He’s scared. Scared of what? You don’t know, but you have a feeling that you’re the cause. Or at least a part of it.

“Good night, Hotch,” you resign, hoping to mask the disappointment of being kept at arm’s length. 

He gives you one last brief nod before he turns away, heading down the hallway with that same brisk, purposeful stride he always uses when he is trying to put distance between himself and whatever feelings are bothering him.

You stand there, the door half-open, watching him go. Your chest aches at the thought of what could have been. 

Closing the door softly and locking it behind you, you begin to process everything that unfolded. Questions pace your mind as you crawl back into bed. What just happened? What just really happened? The moment felt like a confession of sorts. An almost admission of something Hotch has been holding on to, but doesn’t want you to know. 

And maybe you just imagined it, but you feel like you saw a flicker of something in his eyes. An indication that the connection you have been feeling is not one-sided, a hint that you mean more to him than just a colleague, more than just a friend. You close your eyes, but the image of Hotch at your door stays with you, etched into the corners of your mind. An unanswered question you’re too afraid to ask. 

-*-

The local precinct hums with its usual activity— phones ringing, keyboards clicking, and the low murmur of officers exchanging updates on ongoing cases. Yet, the energy is tenser than the previous days of this case. 

Hotch’s behavior has been off all morning— sharply professional, overly focused on the case, and oddly reserved. It isn’t just his terse responses or the way he’s deliberately avoiding meeting your eyes— it’s the heaviness in the air every time you are in the same room. The warmth you usually share with him is gone and his quiet intensity has evolved into a coldness that has made you uncomfortable. 

An awkward distance has grown between the two of you and you can’t shake the feeling that it’s your fault. 

It hurts, but you try to brush it off. You know the job has a way of consuming him. You try to focus on the case, bury yourself in the details, but the weight of Hotch’s distance is becoming impossible to ignore. And you aren’t the only one to feel it. 

“Hey Sunshine,” Morgan approaches your work station, voice quieter than usual, “Everything good with you?” His tone carries a warmth that welcomingly contrasts with the chill you’ve been receiving from Hotch today. 

You look up at him, trying to mask your unease, but Morgan isn’t fooled. 

“You seem a little… off today,” he says, eyes scanning your face with that trademark perceptiveness, “What’s going on?”

You shift uncomfortably in your chair, glancing over at Hotch across the room. He’s engrossed in the case files, his posture stiff, his face unreadable. But you feel the weight of his distance press heavy on your shoulders.

“Nothing,” you tell him, trying to diminish the effect Hotch’s behavior is having on you, “Just… tired. The case is taking a lot out of me.”

Morgan doesn’t buy it for a second. “Uh-huh. And you didn’t notice Hotch getting all icy on you today?”

You still. You didn’t want to admit it, but it’s true. All of his standoffish behavior is directed at you. The distance, the sharper words, he’s isolating himself from you. And it doesn’t take a profiler like Morgan to see it.

You glance back at Hotch before returning your gaze to Morgan. He’s known Hotch for a while. Longer than you. If there is anyone you can gain insight from, it would be him. Lowering your voice, you confide in your teammate, “I don’t know, Derek… it’s like… he’s pulling away. Like something’s changed. I don’t know what happened last night, but whatever it is, it’s different. I can’t shake the feeling that I did something wrong.”

“What happened last night?”

“He came to my room.”

“Hotch?” He asks astonished, surprised by the uncharacteristic behavior. 

“Yeah, he said he wanted to check in with me, but… I don’t know, Derek, something was off. It was like he was hiding something from me.” 

Morgan leans in closer, his expression softening with sincerity. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Hotch is going through something. I’ve been around him long enough to know when he’s bottling things up.” 

You appreciate the comfort in Morgan’s words, even if they don’t entirely ease your concern. You just wish Hotch would open up to you. Let you be there for him and carry some of the weight of his burdens. 

Morgan sighs, seeing the crease still planted in your brow. “Look, he’s been carrying a lot of weight on his shoulders for a while now,” he states, voice turning more serious, “This job— it changes him. Sometimes it makes him pull away from the people he cares about the most, even if he doesn’t mean to. But I’ll talk to him, alright? I’m not gonna let him shut you out.”

You smile up at him, feeling some of the weight lift off of your shoulders.

“Don’t worry about it right now,” he continues, voice morphing into a more professional tone, “We’ve got a case to finish, and we need to focus. But after all this is done, you and I are gonna have a talk, alright?”

You nod, giving him a small, grateful smile, “Thanks, Derek.”

Soon after, the reality of the case takes over again. An officer charges in with a disturbing update: a new victim has been discovered. The pattern is clear, the unsub is escalating. The cooling-off period, which had been a crucial factor in the previous profile,  has shrunk dramatically, and you all are running out of time to prevent another murder. The urgency in the room is palpable. The team crowds around the whiteboard and, after analyzing the victims and the unsub’s pattern, you all come to a grim conclusion. You need someone who looks like the previous victims to bait the unsub into a trap.

There is an oppressive silence as the team’s eyes flick to you. The weight of their saddened, knowing gazes is almost unbearable. The fact that you share similar features with the victims of this case had not gone unnoticed by you. In fact, it was one of the first things you noted about the unsub’s victimology. It had been an unsettling realization. One you’d been working through for days, trying to figure out how it would affect your role in the investigation. Now you know. 

The air is heavy with the unspoken implication. You had expected this. It’s part of the job. But nothing can prepare you for the moment when the possibility becomes real. Your gaze flicks to Hotch, but he isn’t looking at you. His eyes are fixed on the board, on the files, on anything but you. He was desperate. Looking for an out, for a solution that did not involve putting you in harm’s way. 

“Hotch,” Morgan says, cutting through the silence, “We need someone who looks like the unsub’s previous victims. We don’t have time to waste.” 

He glances at you, eyes softening, then back to Hotch, sensing the unspoken hesitation. Hotch’s expression darkens. He looks between Morgan and you, his mouth set in a tight line. You can see the internal battle in his eyes—he wants to object, to find another way—but the case can't wait.

“Alright,” Hotch concedes stiffly, his voice potraying none of the inner turmoil he’s feeling, “We’ll set up the trap. We don’t have time for anything else.”

You close your eyes for a brief moment, pushing away the surge of panic that’s threatening to take hold of you. You know it’s the best strategy. It’s what has to be done, and you will do it. But you don’t have to like it.

“You good with this?” Morgan asks, his tone far more personal than professional. He wants to make sure you’re okay, wants to be sure you aren’t being pushed into something you aren’t ready for.

You give a small nod, more for your own sake than his. “I’m good,” you lie, voice steady even though your insides feel anything but.

After your confirmation the team is immediately on, discussing the logistics of setting up the trap. Your gaze flickers to Hotch once more, and for a moment, you think you see something shift in his eyes— something that isn’t just professional concern. It almost looks like he wants to say something more, but he doesn't. He just turns back to the board, his silence louder than any words he could have spoken.

His mind races, unable to focus on the task at hand. His thoughts are consumed with you— the thought of you being so close to danger. He can’t stand it. The very idea that you will be bait— the possibility of you being exposed to the unsub, potentially hurt— makes his insides twist with dread. But he can’t show it. Not now. Not when the mission is the priority.

He focuses on the details, assigning roles, making decisions. But every time his eyes shift to you, his stomach tightens. Bait. It’s a professional term, a necessary risk. But to him, it feels like a betrayal—one he couldn’t afford to confront.

-*-

You stand near the edge of the scene, trying to focus on the instructions being relayed through your comms. The humid, night air clings to your skin— another layer pressing on the building panic in your chest. You watch as your team slips seamlessly into their positions with practiced precision. You all have done this before, it isn’t unfamiliar territory; however, it’s different when it’s your life on the line.  

You’re the one baiting the unsub, alone, vulnerable. There’s no guarantee of your safety, no script to follow that ensures a happy ending. You’re putting yourself directly in harm’s way, and that knowledge frightens you more than you’d like to admit. You try to steady your breathing, but your heartbeat is louder than your thoughts. This is the moment when everything could go wrong, and that thought sets fear, real visceral and terrifying fear, the kind you’ve been pushing down for hours, alight in your bones. 

You feel him come up behind you, his presence heavy, solid and grounding. You feel the weight of his eyes on you. The tension from before charging the air around you. Up until now, his focus has solely been on the operation. You know he is just as worried as you are, maybe even more so, but his stoicism doesn't allow him to show it. You wonder if his concern is more focused on the mission going well or on the risk this poses to you. Regardless, he is a comforting presence, one you feel safe to confide in. 

“Hotch,” you murmur, almost too quietly for him to hear, turning to face the man who has grown so dear to your heart. 

He looks at you, expression unreadable, but his quiet intensity soothes some of your panic. 

“Are you sure about this? I- I don’t know if I can do this,” your voice shakes, highlighting the fear you’ve been holding back all night.

Hotch struggles to give you an answer. You are looking at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and all he can think about is last night— the image of you mutilated, the fact he couldn’t save you. 

The overwhelming need to protect you surges through him again. He can’t—he can’t let this happen. But he is the leader of this team, it is his duty to see this mission through. To bring this case to a close. He can’t allow his personal feelings to change anything, to interfere with this job. 

He forces his voice to remain steady, professional, “It’s the only way.”

You concede with a nod of your head. You don’t argue. You never do. But Hotch studies you, sees the slight tightening around your eyes, the sharp rise in your chest. It makes his heart ache. He feels the weight of this moment. Knows this is a critical point— not just for the case, but for you. He sees how hard you’re fighting to hold yourself together, and for a split second, the professional facade cracks. He takes a step closer.

“You’re not alone in this,” Hotch says, his voice low but steady. He reaches for your arm, gently squeezing the flesh there. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You’ve been trained for this. You can do this.”

His words settle over you, your heart rate slowing, and for the first time since this operation started, you can breathe again. 

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he repeats urgingly, his voice low, protective. It’s a promise. His hand lingers for a moment longer than necessary before he pulls back, the weight of his words lingering in the air between you two. Hotch’s presence, the way he’s always steady, always calm—it gives you the strength you need.

"Alright," you whisper, your voice steadier now, "Alright, let's do this."

As the team readies themselves, you remain in place, trying to keep yourself from fidgeting. Adrenaline courses through your veins, but it’s not just fear— it’s the anticipation. The waiting. You’ve been taught by Prentiss how to manage these moments, how to keep your emotions in check and your senses sharp. You channel every lesson she taught you— stay calm, stay focused, keep breathing. You’ve studied the unsub’s patterns, and every part of you is ready to play your role.

You survey the area, locating your team’s positions. Morgan, Hotch, and Prentiss are stationed inside as backup, Rossi and Reid near the exits, and the remaining local officers are stationed discreetly around the perimeter. You look towards the nightclub, the neon lights, the rhythmic thrum of music faintly audible even from outside. Static crackles in your ear, and you hear Hotch’s voice, calm and steady, “All units are in position.”

The signal to proceed.

You take a deep breath, trying to control your shaking hands. You’re ready. You have to be ready. With one final glance around the perimeter, ensuring your team’s at your back, you steel yourself, stepping into the lion’s den. 

The pulsating beat of the music encapsulates you, the bass reverberating around your body. The flashing lights cast strobe-like shadows across the crowded room. It’s loud, chaotic, and full of life— but that only makes it more dangerous. The lights are meant to disorient and the noise to drown out your thoughts. You see how it is easy for the unsub to get away with his victims. 

You stand in the middle of it all, heart pounding in your chest as you pretend to enjoy the music, to be just another partygoer in the crowd. Prentiss’s voice crackles in your earpiece, barely audible over the music, “You need to relax. You look stiff.”

You nod to yourself, trying to ground yourself in the role. You watch the crowd around you, mimicking their movements. Glancing over your shoulder, you see Hotch standing across the club, blending into the shadows near the back of the bar, dark and brooding. He’s close— but not close enough. He can’t be. You can’t afford to look too conspicuous.

The rest of the indoors team is hiding in plain sight. Prentiss is near the restrooms and Morgan is in a corner booth. And Hotch is watching from the shadows. He’s waiting, calculating—but something in the way he’s watching you makes your heart rate spike.

You catch his eyes and everything feels different. The professional wall between you two starts to crumble. You feel yourself becoming looser under his watchful gaze and you dance. You dance for him, you dance as if you’re the only two people in the room. And Hotch can’t take his eyes off you. 

But then you feel it. A shift in the crowd. 

He’s not the tallest man in the room, but he has a presence that immediately commands attention. His gaze is cold, calculating, but there’s something oddly magnetic about him. He moves through the crowd with purpose, like he knows exactly what he’s looking for. His eyes flick over the people around him, assessing each one with the precision of a predator.

As he approaches you, you feel a rush of adrenaline, but you push it down. Emily’s training coming back to you. He stops in front of you, gaze flicking to your face, studying you for a beat longer than necessary.

He smiles— a dark, knowing smile. “I’ve been watching you,” he says, his voice a hair louder than the music, his tone carrying an eerie calm.

You force yourself to keep your composure. "Have you?" You raise an eyebrow, playing the part. The unsub takes a step closer, his eyes flickering down to your body, sizing you up. You know what he’s doing, know exactly how he’s visualizing your body and all the horrific things he’ll do it— just like the previous victims. It makes your skin crawl. 

“You’re not like the others,” he says, his voice lower, whispering in your ear, but thick with amusement. He’s toying with you.

You manage a small smile, “What makes you think that?” You tease, pretending to be at ease. 

His hand snakes up your body, eyes never leaving yours, “You’ve got a different look to you. You don’t belong here.”

The trail of his hand on your body sends a chill down your spine. He’s not being aggressive— yet —but the interaction feels like an invitation to a game. He’s testing the waters. 

“I belong where I want to belong,” you reply, lifting your chin up to appear more confident than you actually are.

He smiles, his eyes lighting up with something darker. “Maybe you do,” he says, voice quieter now, “Or maybe you're just pretending.”

You take a step back freeing yourself from his grasp, his imposing presence becoming overwhelming. The unsub’s smile falters just a fraction. A flicker of suspicion, quick but undeniable, passes over his face. 

You take a breath, keeping your face neutral, trying not to let anything slip. “We all pretend sometimes,” you answer smoothly, “What about you?”

For a moment, his eyes narrow, the two of you engaging in some kind of silent battle, each trying to read the other. He’s intrigued, but he hasn’t made up his mind about you yet.

“I’ve seen your type before,” the unsub says, taking a step closer to you, shortening the distance you previously implemented, “You’re always looking for something. People like you—”

You cut him off quickly, hoping to regain control of the situation. “People like me? And what exactly is that?”

He leans in a little closer, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “The ones who can’t find meaning in their lives, so they run to places like this thinking they can find answers. They never do.”

You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as his eyes move over you again, this time lingering on your eyes, like he’s searching for something in you— something real. But you know what he’s doing. He’s trying to find a weakness. A slip.

The air between you two grows heavier, and despite everything you’ve been trained to do, despite the calm that you’re trying so hard to project, you feel the pressure building. Your heartbeat picks up, but you push it down. You can’t let him see you panic.

“Well, I guess that depends on what you’re looking for,” you say, your voice more uncertain than you want it to be. You quickly mask the hesitation with another smile, but this time it doesn’t feel as convincing.

His eyes flicker— just for a moment— across your face. Something about the way you said that, the slight nervousness that edged into your voice— it’s enough to make him pause.

For just a split second, he looks confused, as though something doesn’t add up. His eyes narrow, and you see the shift in his demeanor. The playful curiosity turns into something more calculating.

“You don’t talk like them,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. His voice is softer now, more contemplative. 

You feel your stomach flip, but you don’t flinch. Not yet.

“You have a very... observant eye,” you reply, forcing the words out with more confidence than you feel. You quickly change the subject, hoping to redirect his attention. “Why don’t we go somewhere quieter? I can show you just how different I really am.”

The unsub hesitates, his brow furrowing as he watches you a little too closely. He’s not sure what it is yet, but he’s starting to doubt that you’re just another unsuspecting person in the club. The air between you thickens, the tension building.

The unsub steps back slightly, eyes scanning you again, this time with deeper suspicion. It’s like a switch has been flipped— he knows something is off. 

“Sure,” he sneers, grabbing your arm roughly and jerking you forward. The action pulls you into his chest as his free hand comes up, producing a blade. The cold metal feels heavy as it presses against your throat— the sharp edge digging into your skin. You freeze, pulse pounding as your fear of this operation plays out before you. One quick jerk and your whole life is over in the middle of a second-rate night club. “What is this? Some kind of trap?” He demands angrily, pressing the knife harder. You can feel the tip against your skin, its sharp edge threatening to break the surface. Every small breath you take makes the blade press in deeper, but you don’t flinch. 

Hotch’s voice rings clear through your earpiece, sharp and commanding, “Move in. Now.”

The team springs into action, bursting from their scattered positions, guns drawn, closing in quickly. Chaos erupts as the crowd disperses from the growing conflict— a cacophony of panic and fear echoing around you, mirroring the terror gripping you inside. The moment the unsub sees them, his eyes widen in recognition, but his grip on you doesn’t loosen. He pulls you in front of him like a shield, his body tight against yours, the knife still pressed to your neck. Panic flickers in his eyes, and he becomes more desperate, realizing the window of escape is shrinking. 

“Stay back!” He shouts, his voice shaking with rage and fear, “One move and it’s over. You hear me?” His grip on the knife is trembling now. He’s scared, unhinged, not thinking clearly. You swallow, trying to stay composed. You’ve been trained for this, but the simulation is nothing compared to the real immediacy of danger. 

“Stay calm,” Hotch instructs, his gaze locked on you. His voice is sharp, but there’s a layer of raw tension there. He’s not just worried about you as a team member; he’s invested. This isn’t just another case— it’s you. He won’t let anything happen to you.

The unsub’s grip on you is relentless, and the weight of the knife against your throat is a constant reminder of how quickly this can turn deadly.

“Why don’t we just talk about this?” You manage to say, your voice steady despite the panic raging inside, “I can help you. We can work this out.” But the unsub isn’t listening. His eyes gleam with madness as he presses the knife harder against your throat. 

“You think I’m stupid?” His voice is low, guttural, “You think this is going to end well for me? For you?”

The tension is unbearable and you know it’s only a matter of time before he makes a move, one way or the other.

“You don’t have to do this,” you try again, voice trembling but steady. His grip on the knife shifts slightly, and you catch a glimpse of hesitation in his eyes. It’s a split second, but it’s enough for you to seize the opportunity. You feel the unsub shift slightly, his weight moving in such a way that it opens up just enough space for you to act. You shift your body weight quickly, slamming your elbows into his ribs. The move is sharp and sudden, and you feel him stumble back, losing his balance for a split second. His hold on you loosens, just enough for you to wrench free from his grasp.

In that split second, everything changes. 

“Now!” Hotch’s voice explodes. Prentiss and Morgan surge forward, moving swiftly, but not close enough. In a final desperate attempt to regain control, the unsub brings the knife up, swinging it wildly toward you. Your heart stops and you freeze, only for a moment, before instinct takes over and you dodge to the side. The blade grazes your cheek, cutting a shallow line across your skin. The sting is instant, but you don’t focus on the pain. 

With the unsub distracted by your move, Prentiss is the first to close in. She grabs his wrist, wrenching the knife away, while Morgan rushes in, tackling him to the ground. As the remainder of the team rushes forward, the unsub struggles, but he is no match for your team

As soon as the unsub is secured, Hotch is there, rushing towards you. He places a hand on your shoulder, his fingers lightly gripping you as though he needs to make sure you’re real. 

“Are you alright?” His voice is softer than it’s been all day, but is still tight with concern. You take a shallow breath, trying to steady your heartbeat. “I’m fine,” you answer, though your voice betrays you, a slight tremor you can not control, “Just some scratches.” 

Your fingers graze over the thin line of blood from the knife remaining on your neck, before landing on the shallow wound on your cheek where you swipe away some of the trickling blood. It’s nothing permanent, but the sting is sharp. Hotch’s gaze flicks between the small wounds, and his jaw tightens. 

“You did great,” his voice is low, but laced with something more. There’s a protectiveness in his eyes now that goes beyond the usual command, beyond the professional distance. Your heart is still racing from the close call, but something in the way he looks at you, something unspoken, makes you pause. It’s more than just concern. 

-*-

The case is over. The unsub is in custody, and the adrenaline has worn off, but the weight of the last few days— the close calls, the near-misses— lingers heavily in the air.

The team is scattered around the bullpen, tired but relieved. Some are gathering their things, others are engaged in quiet conversation. But Hotch, who is usually the first to bury himself in case notes and paperwork, is standing near the window of his office, his back to the room, staring out at the city lights in silence.

You’ve just finished checking your emails, last light on in the bullpen, and are about to leave when you notice Hotch still standing there, a silhouette against the dimming light. The intensity of his brooding is almost palpable and you can’t help but feel drawn to him. You approach his office slowly, your footsteps light on the floor, knowing that there’s something unresolved between you— something that needs to be addressed, even if the words seem impossible to say.

When you get to his door, he doesn’t turn to face you right away, but you can tell by the way his posture stiffens that he’s aware of your presence. After a beat, he speaks without looking at you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His voice is low, still carrying the edge of concern. There’s something in the way he asks that you’ve never heard before, a note of uncertainty beneath his usual command.

You stop a few feet away from him, feeling the familiar tension between you two. But this time, it's different— he's different. His usual reserve is slipping, and the emotional weight of the past days is leaving a crack in his armor.

“I’m fine,” you answer, and you mean it, even if there's more left unsaid. The cut on your cheek has been treated, and physically you’re fine.

His shoulders sag slightly, but he still doesn’t turn. He stands there for a long moment, lost in thought, before he finally speaks again, this time quieter, almost hesitant.

“I need you to know something,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Turning slowly, he faces you now, his eyes intense, but there's a vulnerability in them that you’ve never seen before. The walls are down. There’s no hiding it anymore— he’s exposing himself in a way that feels foreign to both of you.

“I...” he begins, but stops. He takes a breath, trying to steady himself. “I... don’t know what I would’ve done if I had lost you tonight. I can’t— I can’t keep pretending that it doesn’t hurt to see you in danger.”

The words hang between you two, heavy and unspoken, as he tries to gather himself. You swallow hard at his words, and your heart flutters in your chest. It’s the first time he’s said something this personal, this raw. You can feel your pulse quicken as you wait for him to continue.

“I know we can’t do this... but I need you to know,” he continues, voice thick with emotion. “I care about you. I care about you more than I’ve let on. More than I should.”

You take a breath, feeling your own emotions rising in your chest. You’ve known for a long time that something was there between the two of you. The tension, the quiet moments of connection. You’ve always felt it, even if you were too afraid to acknowledge it.

“I do too, Hotch. I have for a while.”

His eyes soften at your admission. There’s a tenderness in them that makes your breath catch. He takes a step toward you, closing the distance, and you feel the warmth of his presence envelop you.

He reaches out, his hand resting gently on your arm, as if afraid you might vanish if he touches you too hard. You don’t pull away. Instead, you lean into it, letting the moment settle between you. This is uncharted territory for both of you, but it feels right.

“I don’t know what happens now,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “but I need you to know... I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Not again.”

You nod, your heart full of so many things— relief, fear, and the growing certainty that this moment is the beginning of something neither of you can ignore anymore.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you reply, voice steady, meeting his gaze with an honesty you’ve both kept locked away for far too long.

He looks at you for a long moment, the weight of everything you’ve both experienced together in those few words. And then, ever so slowly, he leans forward, just a fraction, and the air between you shifts. It’s not a declaration, not yet— but it’s a beginning. A slow, careful bridge being built from everything you’ve been through.

And at long last, the walls he’s built for so long have finally come down.

If you want to be a part of my taglist, please submit an ask specifying series, fandom, or all and I will happily add you!

[feinyan]

DATING HEADCANON featuring. damon maitsu, kai monteago, wolfgang akire, desmond hall, mark berskii, jean delamer, jett dawson, eva tsunama, diana venicia, wenona, grace madison, cassidy amber and toshiko kayura. (platonic)

hi hi happy new years :] some of these characters i dont understand very well so please be patient with me … one dating / scenario for every character! (excluding three. i gave up. im sorry) toshiko is platonic!

# damon maitsu

infatuated with you. something damon had always struggled with was strong feelings. interest in people, the concept of love. things like those never crossed his mind, feeling like he had greater priorities. but that’d long since gone away, being replaced by such an overwhelming feeling of what he’d once lacked. at the thought of you, your gleaming smile and humming whenever you’re excited, he grows flustered. a strong, warm feeling in his chest. a feeling so overbearing that he feels like he’ll overheat at any moment. but he wants to explore this with you. slowly, but surely. he wants to open up with you, unwind. he wants to be able to understand the way he feels.

# kai monteago

the way he conveys himself around you is something that is shown to nobody. his facade taken off, a true him in which only you can uncover. a boy of so many emotions, his vulnerability, his happiness, his sorrow. everything. he trusts you with everything he has, the whole of him, as if you were fumbling his life within your fingers. he wouldn’t mind that. he knows you wouldn’t fuck it up.

# wolfgang akire

oh so careful with you. only daring to touch you in the most delicate way, his touch against your skin gentle, soft enough that it seems he’d think you’d break if he even applied a smaller amount of pressure. caring for you in such a warm way. dressing you in warm clothes when you’re sick. wrapping a scarf around your neck in the cold. sliding a blanket over your sleeping body. you’re something he couldn’t bare losing, and to him, that delicacy he holds toward you will always be worth it.

# desmond hall

morning walks, always. burying his fingers beneath your shirt, letting out a husky laugh as you mumble for more time sleeping. but eventually, you cave, and like always, you set out on a walk. beneath the sunrise where its quiet. when not many people are out, and you two are alone. basking in the fresh sunlight raining down on you, enjoying eachothers laughs, hands pressed together.

# mark berskii

needy. a boy who wants more and more from you, who feels himself drained by any contact other than your own. he treats you as if you were a charger, clinging to you awaiting your restoration to his social battery. hes not big on words, preferring to show his affection with actions. laying his head against your lap quietly, leaning against your shoulder, hugging you from behind. small yet romantic gestures in which he finds healing. a safe haven where he can unwind in a most vulnerable way.

# jean delamer

attentive in every way. it’s as if he had a third eye, constantly lingering over you. monitoring you. noticing your every action, if your eyes have faltered slightly, or your eye twitches at someone in dismay. he’s notice it, and taken note of it. his read on your body is incredible, the ability to aid you in escape from an uncomforting situation without even a word from you is a special little skill he claims to have learned from time spent with his crew.

# jett dawson

shows you off like you’re the biggest prize hes ever won. to him, you’re worth more than any trophy! the amount of times your name has slipped off his tongue without him noticing might break a record. his eagerness to ramble about you is endearing.

# eva tsunaka

a place where she belongs. somewhere she feels shes truly appreciated, truly cared for within someones presence. she’d struggled so much with being left out, mocked for what she thought was impressive. but to you? its different. the difference in your attitude toward her ultimate and identity allows her to display her upmost honest self with you. her nerdy comments, her attitude, her vulnerability. who allows herself to become lost within your presence, long enjoying the safety and sense of security you’ve given her. there couldn’t be anything she could ever thank you with.

# diana venicia

sweetest girl ever, though thats a given. worships your body with praise, kisses your everywhere. places you’re insecure about, places you think are odd, places you think are unique. she’ll kiss them until you love them the way she loves you. she appreciates every part of you, from the inside to the outside. if you’re insecure, she cheers you on. she helps you build a good view on yourself. if you’re confident, she feeds into it. she’s your number one supporter. nobody is perfect, yet to her, you’re the closest thing there is.

# wenona

spoils you. shes worked so hard, so why wouldn’t she? to her, any money put toward you is worth spending. expensive stuff, fancy dates. though she doesn’t enjoy throwing around cash for the sake of it, maybe you’re an exception. someone like you who indulges in her interests, who is willing to listen to her ramble about future business opportunities and handle her busy nature whilst still loving her all the same. your patience is rewarding, as long as everything is put to use.

# grace madison

confidently defends you. puts her word in for you no matter the discussion, because nobody talks to her partner like that. regardless of the situation; backhanded comments, obviously bitter words, straight insults. she can’t help it, it comes naturally. the willingness to argue with and fight anyone who dare make even a singular ill comment toward you comes with dating her. she isn’t scared of anyone when it comes to defending you.

# cassidy amber

despite her outgoing, overwhelming spunk, chill days have become a frequency with her. days where you two take time to indulge in each others presence, enjoy games and shows, simply being together. not that its any less chaotic, of course shes still energetic as ever, yet off camera within the walls of your home, it allows her to be a more clingy version of herself. one that allows herself to bury herself within her partners embrace, paying less attention to games, and more attention to the person in front of her.

# toshiko kayura

a darling who wants to learn from you, someone who represents the figure of an older sibling to her, someone who means so much to her. she clings to you. she takes after your actions, your thinking style, your way of speaking. taking words and forming them within her own speech, following you around like a curious puppy eager to learn the things you’ve been indulging in. she enjoys your time, and wants to be like you, wholeheartedly.

@ feinyan

[persevereforahappyending]

A Beacon in the Dark |12|

Pairing: Joey x Reader

Summary: Joey likes helping people, it's what she's best at. Hunting down the monsters of myth and legend might be the best way to save people.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 3.3k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Joey sat in the living room while you went to get Grace, she couldn’t stop replaying everything you told her. Saying your story was a lot, was an understatement; she couldn’t imagine surviving all that. She survived Abigail’s wrath only because of the others and because she ended up developing a connection with the girl, plus having a common enemy in Frank definitely helped the situation. You were, for the most part, on your own, one stranger by your side, until he wasn’t, she couldn’t imagine someone sacrificing themselves for you like that.

You survived all of that in one night, losing a new friend in the process, and then a month later you learned you were now one of those creatures. Frank tried to turn Joey, it was strictly to control her, but she didn’t want to be a vampire in general. She didn’t fully understand how the whole thing worked but she always considered herself lucky that it didn’t work. She could probably deal with the not going out in daylight thing and even the blood drinking part, but she’d never be able to see her son again. Even if she could have controlled herself like Abigail, she never would have trusted herself around him, couldn’t trust that she herself, or that life wouldn’t hurt him.

You weren’t lucky though; you got bit and now every month you were forced to turn into one of the monsters that did that to you. Joey clocked the self-hatred pretty much right after meeting you, you hid it well, but it was the way you talked about certain things and how you reacted. Honestly, Joey was surprised you were still alive considering how much you seemed to despise what you were. You stopped talking after getting to the part where you met Grace, Joey couldn’t begin to imagine what those first few months were like together, how Grace got you to where you were now.

“You ready?” Grace asked, breaking Joey out of her thoughts.

Joey nodded, a part of her was disappointed you weren’t taking her home, but she wasn’t sure she’d get in the car if you even offered. She wasn’t the biggest fan of Grace at the moment either, but she didn’t have to worry about Grace trying to rip out her throat, at least she didn’t think she did.

Joey followed Grace to her car which was a nice simple black one, nothing like your Jeep. It was definitely nice, the seats were leather, but it looked like any car the average person would drive, it didn’t scream money like the ones Joey saw in the garage. Grace seemed to have cars for every occasion, but this one seemed to be all her, who she truly was, not the mask she showed everyone else.

“I do want to apologize for lying to you,” Grace said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “That’s not something that’s easy to tell someone without them overreacting.” Joey scoffed at that. “I only wanted to protect them.” Joey looked over at Grace, she could see the care the other woman had for you. You were fiercely protective of Grace, but it was reciprocated just as much. “But I truly am sorry for dragging you into this.”

Joey nodded, she believed the apology was sincere, but she wasn’t sure about forgiveness yet, this lie almost got her killed. “Why did you save them?” Joey couldn’t help but ask.

Grace snapped her head to the side and then quickly back to the road as if she remembered she had to focus on driving. “They told you that.”

“You said they’d tell me everything.” Joey furrowed her brow slightly; she wasn’t sure why Grace was shocked that you told her about that part of your story.

“I was prepared to shoot them, had heard reports of werewolves before, they run in packs, not easy to go after on my own.” Joey nodded along; she gathered that based on what you had told her. “But then there were random reports of one in New York. I packed my stuff and took off, couldn’t pass up going after one that was apparently alone.”

“So, what changed?”

“I found them,” Grace whispered, she got a distant look in her eye, probably remembering that day. “They’re hard to kill when they’re transformed.

 Joey scoffed. “That’s one way to put it,” she mumbled.

“They killed someone before I found them.” Joey sucked in a breath, she knew you must have had killed people before, but assuming and knowing were different things. “I found the body,” Grace shook her head. “Completely shredded. Then tracked them the rest of the way and waited.

“You waited?” Joey’s mouth fell open. Every mission she’d been sent on had been about taking out the threat and saving the innocents, but here Grace was telling her she waited to shoot you, after discovering the body of someone you killed.

“I was more than prepared to shoot, had them in my sight and everything. If they went after anyone else, I would have taken the shot.”

“But they didn’t.”

Grace shook her head. “When they finally shifted back in the morning I approached, placed the gun right at the back of their head.” Joey tried to ignore the feeling of hearing someone put a gun to the back of your head, how close you were to dying, and she didn’t even know you at the time.

“Then they looked up at me,” Grace whispered. Joey glanced over to see tears had filled Grace’s eyes. “They weren’t like the others, they didn’t lunge at me trying to get another kill in, they didn’t try to run, they didn’t even beg for their life,” she let out humorless chuckle. “They begged me to pull the trigger, they saw the blood on their hands, and they wanted to die instead of risking something like that happening again.”

Joey sat in silence the rest of the way, taking in everything Grace told her. Despite hating what you were, you were always in good spirits. You were protective and liked to joke around, you were more considerate than anyone else Joey had ever met. She didn’t understand how someone like that, who made sure she was safe and always got back to her son, who felt guilty about pulling her away for a job, how someone like that could be in such a dark place like Grace described.

Joey looked up when she felt the car come to a stop, they were outside her apartment already. “Thanks,” Joey mumbled and reached for the door handle.

“Wait,” Grace said, resting a hand on Joey’s arm, which she was quick to take away when Joey looked down at the hand. “Don’t do anything rash.” Joey furrowed her brow at that. “I know you’re not happy with us, with me, maybe we’ve broken your trust completely.” Joey looked down at the sidewalk, mutual trust was the most important thing in a partnership, especially when it came to trusting someone with your life. “But just consider everything you’ve learned before you make any decisions.”

Joey didn’t say anything, she just nodded and closed the door. She didn’t look back as she made her way into the apartment building, but she knew Grace didn’t drive off until Joey was fully in the building. She trudged up the stairs to her apartment and once she was inside, she slumped against the door, mindlessly tossing her keys onto the kitchen counter as she pressed her palms into her eyes. She looked at the clock on the stove and saw she had a bit over an hour before she’d have to pick up Caleb, just enough time to shower and change.

Ana stripped her clothes and hopped into the shower. She scrubbed herself clean, finding bits of twigs in her hair as she ran her hands through it. She closed her eyes as she let the water run over her, she saw flashes of the night before, of a monster slaughtering everyone. Her eyes snapped open and then she saw your face, the complete opposite of the monster she had seen, the shame that weighed down on you, how it was as if you were afraid to look at her the majority of the conversation.

She finally hopped out of the shower when the water started to turn cold. She quickly changed, throwing on a clean pair of jeans and a plain white shirt. She looked down at the pile of dirty clothes on the floor before balling them up and tossing them in the laundry basket. She glanced at the clock one more time, she had a few extra minutes. She grabbed her leather jacket before heading out the door, making sure to bring the basket of dirty laundry with her and down to the bottom floor so she could toss in a load, she didn’t want Caleb to come home and see her clothes covered in blood and mud.

She made her way down the street, walking quickly to make sure she got to the school before the bell rang. She hadn’t talked to Caleb since she dropped him off at school yesterday morning, he got picked up by her neighbor and spent the night at a friend’s. She had told him she had a late shift and she’d be there to pick him up from school, he seemed excited to stay the night at his friends, but she didn’t miss the forced smile, as if he still didn’t believe she’d be there waiting for him when school got out.

Ana got to the front of school just as the bell rang. She glanced over the kids as they ran out the front door until her eyes landed on Caleb. He had his head down and looked up, glancing at the spot Ana always waited for him and seemed to have to do a double take when his eyes landed on her. Ana gave him an awkward smile as he made his way over to her. “Hey,” Ana greeted when he got to her side. “How was the sleepover?”

“It was fun,” Caleb said with a small smile. “How was work?”

Ana tensed up at the question, but she tried to brush it off as they walked back to the apartment. “It was okay, I’m not sure if it’s going to work out so much anymore.”

She didn’t want to tell Caleb everything obviously, she wanted to protect his innocence as much as possible, but she couldn’t stand the thought of lying to him. Caleb was quite observant; he would notice if anything changed, and she didn’t want him to worry. She didn’t want him to go back to wondering why she was suddenly waiting around to hear back from employers and relentlessly applying to places.

“Oh,” Caleb whispered. “Did something happen?”

Ana let out a long sigh as she pushed open the door to the apartment building. “Sort of,” she admitted. “Let’s just say I’m not sure I can trust my boss and my partner anymore.”

“Did they do something wrong?” Caleb looked back at her curiously as she closed the door to the apartment.

Ana rested her arms on the kitchen counter as she thought long and hard about Caleb’s question. She could choose the easy answer and just say yes. The truth was you had lied, you had knowingly put her life in danger, but it was your secret to tell. Ana couldn’t fault you for not sharing your entire life story, what happened to you still clearly affected you, you only told her, not because you trusted her with the information, but you felt bad and obligated for her to know after what happened.

“Not necessarily,” Ana said slowly.

“Then what’s the problem?” Caleb tilted his head, his eyebrows scrunched ever so slightly.

“They kept a secret from me.” Caleb only seemed to scrunch his brow even more at that. “And it affected our most recent job, I’m not sure I can trust them anymore.”

Ana turned and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, she figured the conversation was done since Caleb had been silent. When she turned around, she saw Caleb was still standing in the same spot with a contemplative look on his face. His eyes were glued to the ground and there was a slight frown on his face.

“Are they a bad person?” Caleb asked, tilting his head as he looked up at Ana.

Ana opened and closed her mouth a few times, out of all the things she expected, it definitely wasn’t that. “No,” Ana said easily with a shake of her head.

“Then why can’t you forgive them?”

“It’s not that simple,” Ana sighed.

“But why? You trusted them before; you like your job.” Ana looked down at the counter, she barely trusted you before, you had proven yourself and earned her trusting you with her life, but then you lied to her. “Why can’t you just give them a second chance?” Ana looked up at her son again. “Doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?” Ana’s mouth fell open, she missed a lot, she wasn’t sure how she ended up with such a thoughtful and brilliant son, it certainly wasn’t her doing, and it definitely wasn’t his father’s. “I thought it was best to not judge someone based on their past mistakes.”

Ana’s eyes fell to the floor again, she couldn’t stand the look in her son’s eyes. She knew what he wasn’t saying, Caleb was too smart for his own good. She was a shitty mother; she only recently got her life semi together to even come back into his life. She came to him, asking him for not only forgiveness but a second chance, one she still didn’t think she actually deserve. The main difference was you didn’t deserve Ana’s anger. You lied, you put her life in danger, and yet Ana couldn’t fault you for that, she had done worse to her own son after all.

Ana looked up and watched her son walk off towards his room. She furrowed her brow when he stopped at the entryway to the hallway and look back at her. “I like how things are now,” he said quietly. “You’ve seemed happier and less stressed.” Ana wanted to laugh at that, she wasn’t sure how she could be less stressed after dealing with various supernatural creatures she thought were just myth and legend trying to kill her. “And,” Caleb’s eyes suddenly refused to meet Ana’s. “You’ve been around more. It’s been nice,” he mumbled at the floor.

Ana smiled at her son’s words and at the way he took off to his room without another word. She still had a lot to prove she felt, she hadn’t completely earned Caleb’s trust again, but it seemed she was well on her way to it. You had been considerate of her time with Caleb, it always seemed like a priority to you because you knew it was Ana’s number one priority. Grace was even considerate of it for the most part, she accepted it when Ana first told her Caleb came first. Grace and you both seemed to accept Ana probably wouldn’t want to return, you seemed to not want to try and convince her to stay but Grace did. Grace didn’t say anything to try and manipulate Ana’s thoughts, she just asked for Ana to think of everything she learned before making her decision.

Ana grabbed her water and moved to the couch. She had enjoyed what the two of you were doing, she felt like she was actually helping people. She guessed she’d have to ask you, but this seemed like the only secret between the two of you and now it was out. She had nothing to worry about, from now on she’d be able to go in knowing all the information, she could say no if a mission during a full moon came up again.

Ana grabbed her phone before she could second guess herself. She scrolled through her contacts and found your name. The phone rang a few times, and she started to question whether you’d answer her. Ana knew you were trying to keep your distance, but she figured if she was calling you, you’d know she wanted to talk to you.

“Hello?” you finally answered, your voice sounding raspy from sleep.

“Did I wake you?” Ana asked, furrowing her brow as she looked at the clock, it had only been a couple hours since she left the mansion.

“Joey?” You had definitely been asleep, it seemed you didn’t even look at the caller ID before answering. “Is everything okay?” you suddenly sounded more awake.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ana assured you. “Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be asleep, I would have waited to call.”

“It’s okay, I usually sleep after….” Ana nodded to herself, that made sense, she was sure shifting could be quite exhausting, it must take a toll on you in some way. “Anyway,” you cleared your throat. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Ana pulled out a sucker from her pocket and began twirling it around in her fingers. She could hear you breathing on the other end of the line, but you didn’t ask again, you didn’t try and push her to talk, you just waited. She was sure she could hang up on you right and you wouldn’t call back, you’d just accept it.

“I want to keep working with you,” Ana finally said.

She heard you suck in a breath then nothing but silence. “Are you sure?” you asked, you almost sounded confused that she’d choose such a thing. “You don’t have to. Grace will more then compensate you for the job. You don’t need-”

“I want to,” Ana cut you off. “I want to give this partnership a chance. Assuming all cards are on the table now?” Ana couldn’t think of what else you could possibly be keeping from her, but she had to at least ask.

“Of course, you know everything.”

“Then yes, I want to continue working with you.”

“Okay. I’ll call you when there’s a new job or,” you quickly corrected yourself. “I’ll have Grace call you.” Despite her calling you, it was clear you were unsure where she actually stood involving you.

“You can call me.”

There was silence for a few seconds, Ana could picture you forgetting she couldn’t see you and just nodding to yourself. “Okay,” you finally said. “I’ll give you a call.”

“Goodbye.”

“Wait!” Ana heard you shout as she started to pull the phone away. “If-if you ever don’t want to work together,” your voice sounded smaller than Ana had ever heard it. “It’s okay, I’ll understand. I’m sure we can find a way for you to still work with us but never have to see me.”

Ana’s mouth fell open at that, you were not only giving her an out but basically telling her she’d always have a job. She had no idea what that would look that, she couldn’t imagine doing this job without you by her side now.

“That won’t be necessary,” Ana said. “I’ll wait for your call and sorry for waking you, get some sleep.”

“Thanks,” you said. Ana could practically picture you smiling, the shy smile you always hid from people, not the one you put on for show. “Bye.”

Ana relaxed back into the cushions, she made the right choice, she was sure of it. She didn’t know what the future held, what monster the two of you would face next, but she knew the two of you would be able to handle it. Part of her felt even more protected knowing what you were and knowing you would be at her side, even if she was still absolutely terrified of your other half. Ana wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to see you like that again, but that was a problem for another day.

Taglist: @thinking1bee @so-to-aqui-pelas-fic @alexkolax @thatshyboy1998 @chxrry-lov3

@bella423 @morganismspam23 @pianogirl2121

[aventurineswife]

Heey :3

I'm a bit new to HSR but I would love to make a request regardless. A platonic request with a reader that lost their parents at a very young age and somehow ended up with the listed characters With Boothill, Aventurine, Gallagher, Gepard (if I requested over the character limit just chip some off <33)

Reader is like in their teen years

Fragments of Fate

Tags: Boothill x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Gepard x Reader, Teen!Reader, Platonic Relationships, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff with Angst, Protective Characters, Emotional Bonding, Slow Burn Friendship.

Warnings: Mentions of Parental Loss, Themes of Grief and Trauma, Violence (Mild/Implied), Angst with a Happy/Bittersweet Ending, Possible Depictions of Flashbacks (Trauma-Related), Protective Behavior.

A/N: WELCOME TO THE FANDOM!! I HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR STAY AND DON'T LET THE WEIRD PEOPLE GET TO YOU!! 🤗💕💖

The galaxy was vast, unkind, and unrelenting—traits Boothill understood better than most. When he found you wandering the outskirts of a ruined settlement, it felt like staring into a mirror of his past. A teen, lost and alone, with nothing but the smoldering remains of a life stolen too soon. You reminded him of himself, crying in the snow all those years ago.

The first thing Boothill taught you was how to defend yourself.

"Out here," he said, crouched by the fire with his mechanical hand resting on his holstered revolver, "you either draw fast, or you're done for." His eyes locked onto you, and for the first time since meeting him, you saw something other than sharp wit and vengeance in his expression—concern.

But Boothill wasn’t a teacher in the traditional sense. His lessons came wrapped in stories of survival, laughter, and his signature dramatic flair. He showed you how to handle a blaster, track footprints across barren wastelands, and recognize when to stand your ground—or when to run.

One evening, as the two of you watched stars streak across the dark sky, Boothill broke his usual bravado. "The world’s gonna throw you into the dirt," he said softly, his shark-like teeth catching the firelight. "But you? You’re gonna get back up every time. You hear me, kid?"

In Boothill, you found a guardian who didn’t pity you but saw your strength—even when you didn’t see it yourself.

Meeting Aventurine wasn’t a chance encounter; it was destiny orchestrated by a gambler who always bet on himself. You stumbled into his orbit during a skirmish between the IPC and local rebels, a frightened teen who had lost everything. He could have walked away—after all, you were just another face in a galaxy filled with suffering. But something about the fire in your eyes stopped him.

"You’ve got guts, kid," he remarked, adjusting his glasses as he ushered you into the safety of his suite. "Stick with me, and you might just learn how to play this game called life."

Life with Aventurine was a whirlwind of unpredictability. He taught you how to navigate high-stakes situations, whether it was bluffing your way out of trouble or making calculated risks that turned the odds in your favor.

One day, he handed you a deck of cards, each one worn and bearing faint marks from years of use. "Lesson one," he said with a smirk. "The game’s rigged, but that doesn’t mean you can’t win."

Aventurine’s mentorship wasn’t about coddling. He challenged you, pushed you to think ahead, and celebrated your victories with genuine pride. Yet, there were moments of vulnerability—late-night conversations where he’d share fragments of his own tragic past. "We’re not so different, you and I," he admitted one night, his voice quieter than usual. "We both know what it’s like to lose everything. But here’s the trick, kid: we don’t let it break us."

With Aventurine, you learned that survival wasn’t just about strength—it was about strategy, resilience, and knowing when to bet it all.

When Gepard found you, it was during one of the harshest Fragmentum attacks Belobog had ever faced. You were huddled in the ruins of a home, clutching a makeshift weapon and trembling with fear. The sight of you—so young, so lost—stirred something deep within him.

"You’re safe now," he said, his voice steady and reassuring as he extended a gloved hand. "I’ll protect you. That’s a promise."

Life under Gepard’s care was structured and disciplined, but never harsh. He treated you with kindness and respect, understanding the pain of loss in a way only someone who had carried the weight of duty could.

He taught you how to wield a weapon—not for revenge, but for defense. "Strength isn’t about defeating your enemies," he said during a training session. "It’s about protecting what matters most."

Gepard’s lessons extended beyond combat. He instilled in you a sense of responsibility and compassion, encouraging you to help others even when the world seemed bleak. Under his guidance, you began to rebuild your confidence, finding purpose in small acts of courage and kindness.

One night, as snow fell softly outside the city walls, Gepard joined you by the fire. "I know it’s hard," he said, his eyes reflecting the flickering flames. "But you’re not alone anymore. You have a family here—with me, with the Silvermane Guards. And together, we’ll face whatever comes."

With Gepard, you found more than a protector—you found a father figure who believed in you, even when you struggled to believe in yourself.

[lilacxquartz]

Those Late Summer Nights | Chapter 24

satoru gojo x f!reader x suguru geto

plot: moving to the city from a small town was no easy feat, especially to start teaching as a jujutsu sorcerer.

summary: coming to a conclusion, satoru makes an important decision that has indirect consequences for everyone else — trigger warning: dubcon, reader is not in her right mind

masterlist • ao3 • chapter directory • previous chapter • next chapter >

Chapter 24. Sweet Cinnamon

At a glance, if he really thought about it, Satoru’s life hadn’t changed all that much. He upheld his role within Jujutsu society just fine; he still went to work and trained relentlessly—just as it was all expected of him. His students continued to not suspect a single thing and as for his remaining colleagues—they didn’t either. After all, nobody outside of his once tightly-knit group of friends could ever suspect just what sort of secret he was hiding just below where he slept.

All of the horror—the suffering—remained unchanged because he had the cover of being the strongest. An important name. A respected figure because what could Satoru Gojo, the man who had the entirety of Jujutsu society wrapped right around his finger, possibly have to hide?

Nobody could ever guess that just below his otherwise unassuming home, there was you who slowly gave into the reality he had so ‘generously’ sculpted. It was insulting in a sense as you finally broke into the concept. The prospect of living life under his assigned conditions and what were otherwise, oppressive terms, no longer seemed that bad, especially since it had been long enough to become untrusting of the outside world to begin with. Everything was losing its appeal and the prison you once sought escape from, was starting to feel like home.

Suddenly, he didn’t seem so much like your jailer anymore—perhaps your cellmate—equally trapped in a reality that you both didn’t fully understand.

Maybe your resolve was just weak.

Satoru never thought so, oddly enough, which was why he chose to break you down slowly as opposed to the alternative, if you would believe him or not. Not that he would admit it, and especially not you, but this whole situation was grating on him, too. Maintaining the sudden severance of his once tightly-knit support network while simultaneously upholding the person that the rest of the world needed him to be was a tough task, after all. You wouldn’t get it, of course, so that much remained a burden for him and him alone. Any sane person would rightfully call him delusional at such a mention, because how difficult could it possibly be, to keep up the life that he was born into?

(He wasn’t just the strongest anymore—he was a mentor, a protector, a parent—but he was also the person that he was when around you.)

Satoru never expected to get away with it though, so much so that he didn’t account for it, but luckily for him, he was good at everything—even keeping secrets buried beneath the surface—even when the dirt kept coughing right back up at him.

You’d change.

You’d adapt.

(And then things would be right again—things would smooth out once more—everything would go back to just how it was, right? …Right?)

Satoru took a deep breath as he tried to justify his delusions, already feeling the negative aftermath of his deeply-rooted obsession. He didn’t understand why he felt this strongly about you if he was being honest, someone he once thought to be insignificant from who knows where—but here he was—losing his goddamn mind.

The only conflicting factor being, was Megumi, because where did you otherwise fit into his life when the boy was too perceptive to accept sudden involvement within his life?

You’d show up clean out of nowhere, supposedly accepting your role as the husk of someone you once were and the kid would see right through it all, somehow. The idea frustrated him a great deal, but if he could pull it off—then maybe life could become worth living again to the two of you—maybe you could learn how to enjoy things again (and not hit him with that wavering, blank stare). He supposed that for now at least, the bedroom could remain off-limits—at least until the prospect of Jujutsu High met him around the corner, come next autumn when Megumi would tear away for the campus instead.

Until then, he would be careful.

He should never make the mistake of perceiving Megumi’s indifferent state as ignorance.

That’s how he would slip up.

That’s how he would lose someone he considered to be his son.

Satoru in the meantime tried cooking today again, shoving the leftovers of what he had accomplished (or lack of thereof) into a stray container. Megumi was on his last day of school for the week and therefore, he had risked it considerably by bringing you up earlier—luckily though—the kid was out cold the entire night. Besides that, there were the festivities that he stuck around for, being begrudgingly sentimental towards such things. Such reluctance and even stubbornness reminded him both dearly of his old trio.

He thought about it often—just what sort of adult he’d grow into—for him to end up like his real father, Toji Fushiguro, Satoru thought would be a devastating prospect. Given the direction Megumi seemed to be heading though, it was highly unlikely. He carried a good head on his shoulders, likely due to him being a suitable model if he could believe it. Satoru gulped at the thought, not quite liking that payoff either, especially given what he was up to right now. The role he so masterfully played, only to be a facade in the end.

“Are the pancakes any good?” Satoru asked, watching the boy poke around the plate with his face scrunched up in disapproval.

Megumi was silently blunt—most found it to be harsh, but at least it was easy to tell what was appreciated and what wasn’t.

With a strained gulp down, Megumi replied in a slightly bothered tone, “Too dry.”

Satoru half-laughed, attempting not to feel dejected, but at least he supposed that it was honest feedback. “Yeah, I… I guess they’re not salvageable either, huh?”

“Maybe not,” the kid muttered in a curt, albeit polite tone, pushing the plate away from him and crossing his arms. “Why are you cooking so much lately, anyway?”

Satoru shrugged as he tried to force down the bites of food he made. He wasn’t usually bad at cooking, especially not with sweet things. Luckily, Megumi didn’t pick up on that or didn’t care about the intricacies of his personal life. For the most part, the annoyance seemed to come from being a taste-test guinea pig instead.

“I’m not sure—I guess, I guess… I guess I want to be useful?”

Megumi blinked, studying his guardian’s expression closely. “Useful?”

Satoru nervously laughed, patting the kid on his head. “You’re a growing boy aren’t you?” he asked, trying to spin it around, realising that despite him being quite young too, it felt like he was ancient when he tried to be relatable towards Megumi.

“You’re acting weird,” Megumi complained, rolling his eyes as he tried to get out of the kitchen by this point, hoping to leave whatever sort of forced banter was unfolding.

For now, Satoru decided to brush away the rejection and scooped up the remainder of the failed concoction into another container, intending to bring it down to you later—or perhaps he shouldn’t—not if he was trying to get you to like him… Then again. That look you had in your eyes when you saw the first snow, though? He knew that he had finally gotten somewhere. He just had to dull your spirit enough to make you appreciate the little things enough.

(The little things that paled in the grand scheme of what he wanted to accomplish with you.)

Satoru listened as the front door slammed shut, intending to leave soon himself. A decision formed in his mind as he considered the process of everything else. He would go through the day as normally as possible, arousing no suspicion at all. He’d teach, he’d piss everyone else off at the faculty all the same and then finally, he’d head home.

Movie nights were always a hit or a miss for you, but this time he would try again, letting you take the lead. He’d get your favourite snacks and your favourite drinks, and let you choose a film out of a variety this time. He wouldn’t try and force you into anything this time either, not anymore—or at least—not like that. Maybe, just maybe, if you were able to feel like you had even a semblance of control (however false it was), then you would finally understand the big picture of what he was trying to paint.

~~~

With the rest of the world fast asleep and with Megumi staying over at a trusted babysitter; Satoru lowered himself into the basement at long, long last. The sight was something he had barely gotten used to by this point, though. Would you even believe him if he told you that he doesn’t actually like seeing you cooped up like that? That he hated that sort of, vacant and surely dead-inside look you gave him daily—nightly—whenever it was. He wanted something different—perhaps those eyes that glinted with hope when you were back in your small town with him at your side, not whatever this was—whittled down to something blank, the sparkle put out and faded.

(Unless he could rekindle it.)

(That was the sort of hope he held onto for both of your sakes.)

The stairs creaked and your body twitched, but you didn’t make an effort to acknowledge him. Satoru softly sighed at such a thing, waiting for the dreaded question to finally surface, the answer on his lips already threatening to escape.

False freedom was what he could give you—but you could never go home.

And yet, just as the words left your lips, the question was something different.

“Can we go up and look at the sk—” you began, only for him to cut you off before you finished with the mention of his, “—never.”

A tense silence brewed between the two of you and the implications hung heavy in the thick, almost stagnant air. Satoru for once, hesitated, unwinding his bandages clean from his eyes and finally dimmed the blinding fluorescents into something more bearable, at long, long last. The shadows were at last allowed to settle and a new look in your eyes formed at the gifted low light—not just relief, but acceptance too—the look of someone defeated, ready to surrender.

He took a deep breath and settled the plastic bag full of snacks and the like down before where you sat, before sitting down right next to you. Satoru considered extending an arm out to reach and pull you in close—to touch you—but he refrained. Nothing forced, he told himself, even if it was too late to go down that approach. He knew himself, that what he was doing was fucked up, but also, he never wanted for it to be this way. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself. Something about Suguru getting to you first and in secrecy, too, had triggered a darker side of him that he didn’t know he had—that he potentially didn’t want to understand. Maybe it was never about sharing what his friend had to begin with, maybe he would have been fine with it from the start. Maybe it was simply just because…

(Did he even know the real reason?)

It was simply just because Suguru saw something in you that he couldn’t.

Or?

No, that couldn’t have just been it. Or at least, it couldn’t have been the full truth. Think, Satoru, think. There was something deeper—more volatile.

At first, Satoru thought that Suguru was reaching. You were a pretty face, right? Maybe he wanted something passive or casual, that much was fine, but he could read him perfectly well. From the moment you disclosed what you did at the table from the very first time you met, something potentially very dangerous triggered for Suguru. He had seen that look in his eyes before, way back then, right when he was at the cusp of falling off into the deep end—right before he stopped himself.

Perhaps he should have seen the signs earlier on; what with the lacking interest of who it was that they, as sorcerers, should be protecting and how to do it.

(No, no. He got it.)

It was simply because, instead, Suguru saw a familiar darkness within you that he used to bring closer to justify the means.

Whereas you just wanted to move on—to reduce the negativity—to prevent the darkness from consuming you.

(Maybe it was that… Satoru wanted it too?)

Satoru took a deep breath, drinking in the silence. He thought back to hearing about that murder in your old town, recognising the name immediately—the follow-up to a recently connected killing of a civilian but also, his own family too. He remembered that dysfunctional home; the tough crowd that he had to face and yet, it still made him feel weird, but at the same time… not that he wanted to justify the crimes of his friend, he kind of got it. Or at least, he was starting to.

It was however wrong of him to share that information with you in that way, so for that reason, he had to do better. The abduction should never be forgiven, that much was perfectly fine and even something he accepted, but, he would at least try to help you move on.

Away from the negativity.

Away from jujutsu society.

Away from Suguru.

And into a fabricated life, yes, but… he would give you everything he could beyond that and never force anything ever again.

(Was that much such a delusional hope?)

Before that could happen though, he had to understand something. He reached out into the bag at his feet and took out two drinks of something citrusy, pulling at the tab before handing you the other one.

“Hey, [name]?” Satoru asked, locking his eyes on the same wall you focused on.

You turned your head ever so slightly but didn’t answer.

Satoru continued anyway, “Tell me what really happened back then—the part of the story that you didn’t tell. I know that Suguru knows because otherwise he wouldn’t have done what he… I guess… I’m just trying to understand something.”

Your lips parted a little, trying to bring yourself to tell the truth again. A part of you wondered why he was bringing this up now. Maybe he was just curious, or maybe he was trying to conduct his own investigation as to why his good friend went off the deep end. Whatever the reason, you gave in a second time.

You started off the same way, just like before, reciting it just as clearly as you did for Suguru back then. You watched his reactions as you spoke, watching his once curious expression slowly morph into something shaper—something with a different sort of edge to it. Perhaps it was vulnerability, realisation, or both. It faded quickly whatever it was, quickly twisting into anger, perhaps even self-blame because just like Suguru, Satoru at long, long last, finally understood why you were as dangerous as you were.

A product of the very humanity they were assigned to protect, yet so horribly scarred from it.

Satoru tensed as you finally finished up and for a good, long while, he didn’t say a single thing, but then when he broke the silence, he surprised you instead.

“Did you mean to say that you want to go look at the sky, earlier?” he asked, his voice so tender, so raw.

You didn’t have to think twice. “Yes.”

He sat up, stretching out his stiff limbs from their once compacted position, and looked around. Maybe the basement was a bad idea from the start. Maybe giving into the whole estate was. Satoru sucked at his teeth as he made another internal decision, leaving the bag behind and leading you up, flicking the lights off and all of the suspicion be damned, the change was going to start now. He led you up to the roof, letting you lean against the railing to look at the starts, and for just a minute, he left you all alone to step just out of earshot to make a call.

He was going to change things. Isolation was never it. The fucking penthouse was never it. He finally got it. He’d make arrangements for somewhere else, perhaps exactly as Suguru planned and Megumi would go to high school as normal come the end of the next summer. It hurt, but the person he left him behind with was trusted and eventually, he would return—but first—whether it was the wrong way to do it, he was going to make things right. You’d live somewhere far away from the literal prison he had wrongfully confined you to and he would mend things from there on.

(Not quite realising that it was another format of the very same thing he had otherwise inflicted, convincing himself that it was different this time.)

Satoru scoffed again as he finalised those decisions, internally berating himself.

He should have given you that chance from the start.

He shouldn’t have let Suguru poison your mind.

He shouldn’t have succumbed to a moment of weakness back in the classroom—fuck—what exactly did he do, when he…

The cataclysm, indeed.

He was simply just the rain that followed after the clouds, and you, the storm.

~~~

After a moment, you headed back down with Satoru from the moment that it got too cold. Your fingers found themselves curling against the clothes that he wore. It was already deep into the dead of winter, but you tried to tolerate more than you could, thinking that this was your last time seeing the sky—even if it was dark—you pushed yourself more than you could.

However, as Satoru guided you into the bedroom and sat you down, suddenly seeming so awkward, so tender; the sass and the confidence gone from his usually proud demeanour, he revealed the person that he kept hidden beneath the surface so well—from the world, from his friends, from everyone—although now, at least not to you.

For what was below strength, also lay weakness.

Satoru tugged you towards him, pulling you deep into his chest, enveloping you with his body as though to shield you from the rest of the world. With his grip and the hurt that coursed through his veins, he radiated a deep anger, feeling something beyond just regular sadness consume him. He held onto you so tight, so longingly, so desperately.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered quietly on a loop, his chin resting atop your head, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

For whatever reason, you gave in. You needed to be held softly for a change—to for once, be listened to. You gave in. You knew you shouldn’t have, but…

His fingers traced their way down to meet your jawline, gently pushing you up to meet with his eyes, so purely blue and crystalline. Satoru’s lips then crashed against yours, his breath hitching—yours too—when you for once, reciprocated it for a change. You were breaking. He was breaking. His lips tasted of sweet cinnamon today, of burnt sugar, of something sweet. He wouldn’t let you go, pulling you up, for once, trying to read into what you wanted for a change.

Delicately, his touch found its way in between your legs, snaking the path down to meet at a certain point. His movements were clumsy—inexperienced—his motions out of rhythm; but, god, he tried. You deserved to feel good for a change, after all. For a moment he stilled, realising that he was only prolonging the cycle, but then—a shudder, no—a moan slipped through your lips and just like that, the addiction returned in full blast, straight like morphine into his system.

Grinding into his touch felt foreign but you did so anyway, circling your hips ever-so-slightly to guide the pace. Satoru picked up just fine, moving to hover over you after a heated moment, as gently as possible trying to read into your body language, pushing apart your legs from the second that he felt no resistance. In an anticipated rush of nerves, he fumbled with his own clothes, plunging his aroused length into the apex of your cunt, burying himself deep inside, pistoning himself with almost manic fervour.

Satoru hilted himself again and again, his breath catching in his throat as ragged gasps barely trickled out of his lungs. You felt so good with your legs wrapped around him like that, sinking him fully into you like an anchored weight—so capsizing and devastating and yet—

Embracing the storm, you allowed him to rut into your core like a man crazed, peppering you with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses all the while. His momentum felt slick, somehow not painful like all of those times before, and yet—charged with something dangerous—so raw and apologetic, finally feeling something from you that wasn’t despair. You kissed him again, letting the taste of cinnamon linger.

Satoru, to your surprise, however, wept into the pillow beside you, dampening your hair in the process. Oceanic blue eyes that flooded—pounding into you with fresh regret, yet at the same time wishing to forget about all that he had inflicted—that he was, actively inflicting; telling himself that it was all okay this time because you were finally giving in.

(Even though, surrendering to a broken state of mind wasn’t the answer.)

“Does this feel good?” he asked as his voice cracked, sounding muffled as he strained into the pillow, partially obscured by your hair.

Your breath locked in your throat as you tried to respond, rolling whimpers that bordered on whines filling the silence instead. You did feel good, but you also didn’t, but you also did. Satoru pushed the advantage, misinterpreting the breathless silence as something positive—you were enjoying yourself, right? At least for now, everything was okay, he was okay, and nothing mattered—

Satoru stilled all of a sudden, feeling himself grow close. His fingers moved quicker that time, tracing feverish laps around your clit, reducing your lower half to a violent tremble, feeling your legs give in from underneath him; the chorus of your voice looping in a short-winded symphony and finally, you came undone at long, long last.

A wave of pleasure imploded within you, collapsing from the very moment it coiled, but beyond that, something felt wrong. So terribly wrong. Like a sudden wave of clarity had washed over you, regret settled into the depths of your heart and soul. The weight of what you gave into playing heavily, leaving you feeling like a woman drowned. You didn’t fight back this time though, realising that you were closer to freedom than ever before—all you had to do now was to hold on a little longer—to give in, to surrender—so that the starry nights could become sunrises forever more.

Satoru finished with a final loaded thrust, driving himself with a wailing conclusion. His head dropped forward, resting his forehead against your own and after a while, he pulled out at long last, not caring about the cleanup for a change, rather just… enjoying the afterglow of the moment.

A hint of worry started to consume him though.

What if your admission of surrender wasn’t real?

As you both drifted off to sleep, he held onto you even tighter than before, hoping, even praying, that this wasn’t the case at all, and yet…

Nevermind.

He would make it right again, because, at this point, he had to.

~~~

In the meanwhile, days later after the call with Yuki went through and the hope had planted itself, Shoko received a phone call to her personal cell from an unfamiliar number. Practically tearing out of the med bay within a flash, she quickly locked herself in a nearby supply closet with her back pressed against the door, shutting out the world just in case.

With a tentative hand, she pressed the phone against her ear, expecting to hear words of comfort, her heart dropping from the moment she heard Yuki talk.

“It’s me,” Yuki greeted, her words sounding tense. “We might have a problem.”

Shoko’s breath hitched, already sensing something terribly wrong.

“A problem?” she asked, trying to keep a composed tone.

“Yeah, I, uh,” Yuki continued, “I had a mole check over the estate posing as a housemaid and, “he’s not there Shoko.”

Shoko’s voice faltered. “What do you mean?”

“His home was picked clean, it’s empty,” she added, trying to break the news in as delicately as possible, yet in words that begged understanding, “she asked around, but it turns out that she didn’t need to—they’re keeping it a secret for now, but—Satoru Gojo is gone.”

How could she be so close and yet somehow so far away from it all? For her to have devised a plan that might just work and yet, Satoru flipped the tables all over again. Was this intentional? Her mind raced, yet nothing stuck.

For a moment, it felt like time went still.

What kind of cruel fucking joke was this?

And more importantly, what did that mean for you…?

[ihaznoclue]

hello! Can we have movie shadow x a seriously hurt reader prehaps? The reader is now close to death after them getting the second cannon key and shadow finds them close to deaths door and saves them after growing close to them as the mission for revenge has gone on?

Pairings -> Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

Warnings -> Injuries, near death experiences, getting shot

Note -> Reader gets seriously injured when getting the second key luckily shadow finds them and saves them

Genre -> Angst

Shadow The Hedgehog

This was your mission, a mission that you couldn't mess up or there will be consequences for you You were willing to help for shadow, his revenge for his friends death. You wanted to help shadow, after all his pain and suffering you wanted to help him get his revenge towards G.U.N.

You didn't like G.U.N either, many things you hated about them and you wanted to change everything that they did.

Now your mission was to get the second key from the G.U.N base that was in London. You never been to London before but here you were now in the G.U.N base, quietly getting through security.

Luckily you went through the vents to get to the place you needed to be, crawling the tight space as you looked to the side to see so many G.U.N members walking around keeping guard.

You were nervous yes but you were willing to do this, because you agreed that instead of the Robotniks to get the key you would do it instead.

Shadow didn't like the idea of you going alone but you reassured him that you will be fine as you would go in and out quickly.

Shadow stayed with Stone in the crab underground in the sewers, watching a film movie while you and the Robotniks went inside. Shadow was staying put until he was told to help just in case.

You were crawling a little bit more in the vents trying to keep quiet, hearing voices here and there as you finally reached where the key would be.

You needed to kick down the vent in order to get out, which was a bad idea as it made so much noise so you waited for a couple of seconds to here if anyone was coming.

No-one

You sighed in relief as you got out of the vents as you stood up stretching form being in that tight ass vents for so long.

The place was empty and quiet which was a bit eerie for you but you spotted the key, you were going to reach it but..

"Hold it right there!"

well shit.. you were caught

You knew that would happen for kicking the vents so God damn loud so you froze putting on a act to help save you from getting shot or something like that.

"Turn around and put your hand where I can see them"

You obeyed as you turned around and put your hands up, you need to think of something to get out of this situation

All that you could do was

Run?

Hide?

Get shot?

Run it is...

"Come back here!"

You ran and ran where your feet could go, that was until shot were fire towards you

"Are you kidding me?!" You shouted as you ran passed more guys as they put up there Guns

You didn't know where the exit was and if you did go to the exit you were sure there would be more people there to stop you from leaving

You were scared that you were going to die, as you turned a corner a shot hit your shoulder which caused you to scream

Blood staining your clothes as you ran more, a another shot hit the side of your hip only slightly as more blood came out

You were sure going to lose a lot of blood for this, you turned around as you saw no-one following you anymore as you lost them

You then hit your head on the wall as you came to a dead end, your head was throbbing as you slouched down of the wall into sitting

You needed to get someone to come and get you

Whispering Shadow's name as then everything went black as you passed out

With Shadow, he was with the second key as he took it from Tom who he thought was the commander

Now all he needed is to find you, hoping you were okay as he used chaos control to teleport everywhere in the base to find you

Eventually he did as he spotted you in a terrible state he didn't want to see you in, blood spilling on the floor, who ever did this to you would pay but he needed to get you out of here

He never used chaos control with a human before but he was willing to try to get you to safety and to get you healed

He needed to save you or else he would lose both of the people he loved and cared for the most

He wanted to you alive and he was willing to fight for it

-A<3

[thehypnone]

HI HYPNONE !!! I hope youre doing well !!!

We have a headcanon that Aeon/Phantom is blind and missing a limb due to a summoning accident ,,, do u have any thoughts or ideas about this at all,,,

first ficlet of 2025! i focused on the blind part because i also love @midnight-moth's headcanon where bug kinda sees with his quintessence, so here's my take on him learning to do it

“Now focus,” Omega tells him quietly, so as not to break Aeon’s concentration. “Get the quintessence out and feel the world with it.”

The younger ghoul takes a deep breath and when he releases it, his magic starts radiating from him and spreading around the small room they’re currently in. As it settles on some items placed here and there and the walls, Aeon starts feeling them; though he can’t quite make out what is what or where just yet.

He needs it if he wants to perform on stage as he was summoned to do.

Yes, he could learn to function being blind—and missing half a leg and most of his tail—but it would not only take him long, but also wouldn’t suffice for touring. Aeon is determined and him being a quintessence ghoul is a blessing in disguise in this situation; knowing it’s possible, Omega has offered to teach him a skill that could make up for the sight he’s lost during his summoning.

“Let it settle like dust over everything,” the older ghoul advises, “let it hug everything and then you’ll get it all mapped out in your mind.”

Aeon tries; he pushes more waves of magic out and wills them to do what Omega’s just described. He can feel the quintessence thickening and starting to collide with different things and they do start taking shape in his brain, making him break into a smile.

“Don’t cheer just yet,” Omega gently scolds him, but he’s happy and proud of the other, too. He’s been working so hard and it’s finally starting to take effect. “Don’t lose focus, push it more.”

The younger ghoul keeps smiling, but his brows draw further together in concentration and determination. He obeys and presses on with his mind and then–

“The guitar!” he exclaims. It makes the whole thing drop, but Aeon doesn’t care. “Omega, the guitar, it was there, I had–I saw it!”

Omega chuckles as he reaches out to pat the other on the back, “Good job, bug. You’re doing so well!”

“Does it work the same with people? With faces?” Aeon asks eagerly, with his smile so bright Omega might just tear up. He’s so incredibly proud of him.

“More or less, yeah,” he replies and the other’s smile grows impossibly.

“I want to see you! Can I see you? Please!!!” Aeon begs, his nub of a tail wagging. How could Omega decline?

“It’s a bit trickier, but yes,” he says, “I believe you’re capable of that, you just need to focus really hard.”

“Okay! I can do it.” The younger ghoul decides and then shakes the excitement off of himself, making Omega chuckle—he’s not unlike a wet dog shaking off water. He needs a moment to get rid of the excessive emotion before he can ground himself and properly focus again, but after a couple minutes he’s ready.

Aeon gathers up his quintessence before pushing it out again—except this time he directs it all in front of himself, at Omega, instead of all around the room. Slowly, the older ghoul’s body shape starts appearing in his mind and it grows sharper and sharper until he’s not a blob of purple light anymore, but…Omega.

Aeon tears up as he looks at the face of his mentor for the first time. He’s smiling with pride at him and that makes it even better—even though Aeon doesn’t yet know how to recognize the emotions on others’ faces, he can feel them strongly.

“I hope I am not ugly enough for you to regret me being your first ever seen face Topside?” Omega jokes—he can see his lips moving—and tears start falling from Aeon’s sightless eyes before he throws himself forward, into the others’ arms.

“You’re g–gorgeous,” Aeon sobs into his chest as the image from his mind starts to fade—he mourns it already, but it only makes him even more determined to master this skill. He wants to see his packmates. He needs to see them.

“Oh, kiddo,” Omega coos; also quite moved. Then, in an attempt to lighten the mood again, “Wait until you see Cumulus’ boobs.”

[starguardianniom]

Harumasa's health after his agent story

Let's be real here, his master's cure definitely changed things for him.

Probably in both a good and bad way.

Good because it literally saved his life and most likely bought him time so he might actually see past 26, though that's my headcanon since the game makes it clears that even the doctors have no ideas either.

Bad because well, it definitely most likely changes Harumasa's habits and gives him probably even more fear and anxiety to worry about.

Hear me out.

Harumasa is used to taking a lot of pills and most likely knows the patterns to his illness by now.

But with this cure he injected into himself?

It probably will change a lot of things for him.

I mean, for starters, if it controls his illness well, does that means he needs to have some changes in his prescriptions? Will he have new symptoms or something?

I can imagine Harumasa freaked the hell out when he awoke in the hospital after dealing with Kirishima and wondered what the heck was going on and how was he still alive because he was pretty sure he was a goner.

And then when his doctors told him he got better on his own he probably had a little mental breakdown because no way that happened and the doctors must have found a miracle treatment or something because his illness was really killing him there and with his master's "drug" he definitely thought of himself as a dead man.

Later, when finally getting through his head that he is really alive and well, he starts freaking out more because for once he doesn't hurt anywhere and it's probably the healthiest he's ever been and given he was on death's door he can't help but be extremely paranoid about his being alive and well and is scared to hell and back about what it means. Like did his illness mutate when he injected himself the drug? Is it just the calm before the storm? Is he about to get much worse? Could he suddently have worse symptoms than before? I imagine him being afraid of suddently having a seizure just like that because of the drug.

Also I see him not being in the best mental state when he wakes up because he just had about the most stressful week of his life, pursuing his master only to find out he turned into an ethereal right before he could find him which also means his years of searching for him for answers amounts to have been for nothing and losing the only person he could consider family after his parents abandoned him, having to fight him to the death while his illness was acting up badly, dealing with Kirishima, trying to save the kids, trying to get the drug before Kirishima, and then sacrificing himself so no one else would suffer like he did and to stop Kirishima for good, and then miraculously surviving and being healthier than he can remember most likely. His survival is something that happens in movies, not to him and not in real life, but the facts are there and he can't refute them so he does lose his mind a bit about it before he finally calms down.

So I headcanon that the first couple of days he stayed in the hospital and the others he stayed at home to get time to process everything before going back to work to be warmly welcomed back by his teammates and the proxy.

I bet he had a long talk about his doctor about how to proceed forward since his miraculous brush with death, like should they change his prescription, should he takes more or less pills, should he probably retire, should he takes a long vacation, and probably wanted to be tested for everything thrice just to be sure that there would be no surprises.

You're not gonna make me believe he was just fine after almost dying, he probably really was scared out of his mind afterwhat and only pulled through after much reassurances from the doctors that he was doing fine for now and that he could relax.

I mean, in his place I would be scared beyond belief as well, given the situation.

I should probably try to make a fic about it, unless someone else wants to do it, feel free to ask if you want it I'll happily let you have it first come first served.

[yourlocaltreesimp]

“On the Rag”

Synopsis: Sr!Link is utterly clueless of what to do when you come down with a mysterious and sudden infliction which causes you great, unending pain… it’s just your period.

Tags: GN!Reader, no pre-established relationship, idiots in love

@trippygalaxy

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Quite honestly, Link was worried. Of course, his journey was stressful, with the fate of hyrule on his shoulders and as the Dark Knight had kidnapped Zelda. But that wasn’t the current cause of his pacing. Those were all fixable, identifiable issues.

High orders for him to complete, yes, but he at least had some general idea of where to start.

Your recent sickness, however, was not something he knew how to fix.

Monsters could be fought, dungeons could be solved, quests could be completed, but there was no immediate fix-it to your health, especially when you were so insistent that you were “fine.” When that clearly wasn’t the case. Your eyes were tired and loopy, you winced even as you stood or sat still, he even found several discarded bloody rags.

Hylia help him, if the monsters didn’t kill him, you would first.

He’s beside himself, his boots making consistent thumps as he walks in loops, trying to dispel worry from his gut.

“What’s got you all wound up” Wind stood in his path, the sound and light that’d usually come from the medallion not catching his attention, too busy spiralling. He looks around to find the lobby (or at least the small side room he’d begun his breakdown in) blessedly empty with no one to see or hear him be spooked by ghosts of heroes past.

“It’s-“ He begins to talk, only to be interrupted.

“His Lover is sick.” Worlds leaned over his shoulder, countering from all the weight being in his heels. Afterall, he was still leaning back after being spooked.

“They’re not my-“ He’s now doubly mortified. Not only were you in possibly grave dangers he can’t prevent, the group had all got the wrong impression. Good goddesses themselves-

“Oh please” Time huffed, unamused with the musings of his descendants, “With their stubbornness they’ll die, sooner than recover” Link felt the blood drain from his face. Any previous blush left him. Cold. He couldn’t actually lose you, right?

“Awe stop it” Sky managed to shove the others off of him, fussing over Link as though he were a mother cucco. That is, to say, frightening to every other hero.

“Everything will be alright, you hear me?” Still, he felt as if something wasn’t quite right about the whole situation. There was something he was missing. If only you would talk to him.

“What will be alright?” Wild arrived after all his brothers, curious to see what the fuss was about if the rest of them couldn’t fix it.

“It’s just-“ Link could feel the concern and worry break him “I don’t know if they’ll be ok, and they won’t talk to me and I can’t fix it and I know they’re in pain-“ He shudders when he breathes, more than a little embarrassed.

“Hey hey, tell us exactly what the issues are. I’m sure one of us will have an answer!” A chorus of ‘Yeah!’s ensued and it felt as if maybe it will be ok.

“Well- They’ve spent a lot of time resting, still look really tired though… and they wince a lot, even if they aren’t moving. Like something sharp” The others nod along, following the symptoms as Link explains.

“And I've found a few bloodied rags. If it was any extreme wound, a red potion would work, and yet they refuse to take them. As if it wouldn’t work” He looks upon his mentors to find them equally as puzzled as him.

“And their mood- it’s as if they’ve been cursed! They wept like there’s nothing to live for when we met the stable dog when arriving. And they lash out as if i mean harm-“ That does get a few pitiful stares from Sky particularly.

Everyone oohs and aahs over the strange set of symptoms and behaviors. They murmur quietly about poisons, curses, hexes and the like.

“Are y’all jus’ that naive?” A very concerned, slightly exasperated, looking Rancher looks over all the heroes.

“What? You know what it is smart guy?” Worlds raises a single eyebrow in judgement.

“Their period?” He pauses, looking at the group who now resemble a parliament of owls.

“Y’know, ‘on the rag’ ‘shark week?’” He offered, expecting more of a response. There were mumbled ‘Oh’s and nods of acceptance. Twilight couldn’t stop himself from laughing at the absurdity of them debating whether you’d been cursed, meanwhile your body is just doing as it’s supposed to.

“Don’t worry, kiddo. That sweetheart a’ yers will be jus’ fine” The blood returns to Link’s cheeks, flushing them a healthy red.

“Naw go on, i’m sure a hot water bottle and some comfort wouldn’t do em’ any harm”

“And you’re sure that’s what this is?”

“Positive.”

Roughly a half hour later, Link found himself outside your room at the Inn. His arms were full; a hot water bottle he’d gotten from Twi, some chocolates from Wild and a cup of tea Sky said would help with healing.

“Hey, can I come in?” He called weakly, fine to leave the gifts outside if you weren’t up to socialising.

“Mhm” Your equally soft voice called from the other side of the door, drowsy and pained.

“I have some gifts… to uh- help you feel a little better” His smile was as boyish and crooked as always. He always felt a little giddy around you. Like that uninhibited joy from his childhood could worm back into his life, no matter how hellish it got. He set down the tea and the chocolates in favour of helping you sit up.

Now that he knew he had nothing to worry about and you weren’t dying imminently, he managed to find your tousled hair and sleepy smile endearing. He padded your back with pillows and made sure there was a layer or two between your skin and the bottle so there wouldn't be any burns.

“Is that any better?” In all honesty, he was at your beck and call. You could ask him to seek healing from the hottest spring in the depth of hebra and he’d set out without hesitation. He chuckles as you respond in a pleased hum, eyes closed as you’re relieved of some pain. He feels himself settle in his feet. Sure. Calm.

“I have some tea here too, and chocolates. I won’t be offended if you don’t want them. I mean I just heard that the hel-

A finger is haphazardly pressed to his lips.

“Shh.” You demand, and his protests die in his throat.

You pat the spot next to you expectantly, looking back at where he stands, frozen, as if upset he hadn’t moved yet. He sat awkwardly on the bed beside you as you silently shuffled about pillows. He was about to fuss that your back would be sore without padding before you flopped back into the bed and dragged him with you. A noise of surprise leaves him as you decide that you, indeed, wish to be horizontal. He takes a few deep breaths, letting himself settle in the moment and except cuddling with you for a little bit.

For the pain of course.

As friends.

(Bonus: From inside the Medallion, the Twili King had a decent enough understanding of what had transpired. The newest, and perhaps emotionally densest, hero has finally been able to shove it all aside in exchange for some intimacy. It’s so odd. He remembers being so scared to talk to Midna when they were courting, but it all worked out in the end. He’s sure Link will get his happy ending too)

((bonus bonus: Twi has an aneurism upon the discovery that the cuddle session was only seen as “platonic” by the clearly lovestruck idiots))

[doubledeadstudio]

Finally got the courage to ask a question (Happy New Years Eve/ Day whenever you see this) but just a general question

What was the creative process of making Reanimated Heart, Another Rose in his Garden and Pygmalion’s Folly? What was the inspiration behind those three games? What was your favorite one to work on? Do you plan to make new games in the future?

Happy New Year to you too, anon! I love questions like these. The development and creative process is something I'm very passionate about.

Creative Process? Inspiration? (Just shoving both of this in one, long discussion about how these things came to be)

Okay, you guys will probably think I'm an insane person, so let me explain how I got started on them...

I first started with RH (of course) when my friend Tay told me about this game she was playing where a character really resembled Crux (it was Markus from Red Embrace: Hollywood). And I played it because of that, and I was like, damn??? He really does? And I was on the path of my artist journey that I was like looking at the game assets and the dialogue and stuff where I was like... Wait, I can do that. I can write like this. I can draw everything. Who's stopping me? I had a dream with the tree, and I started writing dialogue in "hypothetical" VN scenarios, and I was like... okay, fuck it, I already got disowned by my family and I wanna kill myself, I've got nothing left to lose.

So I started pre-development for Reanimated Heart and wrote like about 20,000+ words, made sprites and backgrounds, spent an ungodly amount of money for music and fonts and did research, and released the Prologue on itch. It ended up kind of a flop? And I was honestly so mad for years LMFAO, but I kept at it because I liked making it. And then a fan, Ashe, contacted me out of nowhere and suggested I improve my socials. (Thanks Ashe.)

All in all, I think that, if RH never gathered attention... I would still be making it, but releases would've been shorter and weirder, and it wouldn't have the level of polish it does now because "nobody's playing this shit anyway." But having a fandom motivates me to push past my comfort, and inspires me to do releases semi-regularly. So, thank you guys for the support. :>

Anyway, enough RH rambling. Another Rose happened because a couple of members in the chat (I remember Maz and Chat in particular) kept joking about Omegaverse and I've never like... consumed any Omegaverse before, and I literally had no fucking clue what it was other than mpreg and werewolves. And I was like drinking that day and I got intrigued. And I kept thinking about the scenarios and became like ACTUALLY invested, but I didn't know anything about it still, so I kept asking Maz about it and she really helped hash out the "lore" and gave me really good scene suggestions. I honestly think Another Rose is the most indulgent of all my games because...

First of all, it's just straight porn. Second, aside from the quality of the work, I don't think about the audience, at all. There's only a price point to it but it's basically like a smut novel with some path deviations (that also just read to different porn)? Third, I'm like... I'm not going to lie, obsessed with my husband's OC Mars. And it's funny af to me how people ended up disliking him, because this whole game was like just my personal (smutty) love letter to how much I love that godawful man.

For Pygmalion's Folly... There had been long discussions in my server about murdersims. I'll be honest, I didn't get them at first, but I think Adri framed it in a way that I understood it, which was like... it was a morbid fascination to how bad things can get in situations like that. So I ended up playing the first BTDs and obsessively finished TPOF to the point I was having dreams about it, and I'm not going to lie, I had a dream! Again!! And it was Florentin killing the MC over and over. I woke up in a haze and wrote like the first 3000 words of the game in a frenzy with just 2 hours of sleep, and I was like, okay. This is getting made for sure. And because Adri was the avid murdersim fan, I consulted with them about the game, and they were the one that suggested the stats system, as well as some scenarios for endings.

So I guess tl;dr I cannot explain how I make games to you guys because they just kind of form when I'm drunk or get prophetic dreams.

Favorite to Work On?

Honestly, I loved working on all of them equally, believe it or not. (I equally also hate all of them when I'm crunching for the release. /jk)

The thing about these characters is that they're all OCs that are near and dear to my heart, ones that I've had for YEARS (I've had Vin for 12 years, can you imagine that?), and seeing all of them in action excites me so much.

I love that I got to make Abel the protag and I love that I got to put him in fun, sexual situations. I love that I managed to show off Florentin's special powers, and draw amazing grisly CGs with him. I love that Black, Vin and Crux are different, romanceable characters, that you can go to their houses, that you can see CGs with them, that you can follow their character development and be invested in their secrets, that they even have awesome voice actors that bring them to life!

And I love that so many of you also love them too, and write fic of them and draw them... Honestly, that's already my dream, and I'm so happy about it.

New Games in the Future?

Absolutely, yes! I got the VN dev bug and you guys will have to chase me out of here, LMAO.

But this year, considering how busy I'd be... I'd say probably not in case something really pushes me to make something (like, I had an idea I can't stop thinking about). My top priority right now is Reanimated Heart's Chapter 1 finale, and I have some free DLC I'm thinking of adding for Another Rose and Pygmalion's Folly, so those will probably get prioritized first.

[ktyekmrf30]

With GMMTV series I always have a clear distinction. When it's a adaptation of a popular novel, I'm quite aware while watching that the script was completely rewritten by the different team, and in most cases it was for the better (it took a lot of effort to make on screen a green flag characters for My School President and Star in My Mind characters and I really mean it, I hope all the scriptwriters got a bonus for how much effort they put into making the couples' relationships in these series healthy - unlike the novel). So yes, I quite clearly separate the characters from the series from those written in the novel. For my sanity and faith in my favorite characters. They're are two completely different people for me.

But there are series where they wrote the script and the novel appeared as an addition and based on the script and team's notes (NLMG, Kidnap, ThamePo). In this case, I perceive the novel as an addition to what the director does not have time to tell about on the screen due to reasons. So this is just something canon about characters for me but unseen in the series.

And with ThamePo? Oh God, my heart cries for Po.

source

I assumed from the first few episodes that he was in a toxic relationship, but I didn't realize how abusive it was. And how much it destroyed Po as a person and now I feel like I looked at him with new eyes.

What hurts even more now is how much Po hasn't lost faith in people and how much his bright naive soul wants to help Thame reunite the group, even if it means he might end up getting hurt again, especially after such a big betrayal from his ex. And that scene where Po remembers Jun's words about how Thame would forget about him once the group reunites? Now it hits me in a completely different way because at that exactly moment Po in his mind was trying to deny the fact that he had met someone like Earn again. Because he had faith in Thame. May sound stupid, but it's just so inherent in his character. And because he and Thame aren't that close at this moment, it wasn't the pain for him, no. It was disappointment. And not so much in Thame but in people in general. I understand him, I experienced it once too.

And that's why the moment when Po decides to enter into a relationship with Thame will be so precious to him. Not only because he decided to start relationship with an idol knowing that it would be hidden and it would be a secret relationship again (like with ex). For him it was also a matter of trust, fear of the situation repeating itself, the question of what he is worth and what he has achieved as an independent human being and how he cannot lose this with new relationship again. Because it will destroys him.

And I can't even begin to write how angry I am about everything involving Earn now. I hate people like him. Uncle Joei and Baifern's words about him make so much sense now after knowing all of this, and yes, that asshole at least needs to go bankrupt in the finale. It's not enough for me to think that Thame is going to punch Earn in the face one day, to protect Po I need a gun.

[yeowoui]

TOMORROW X TOGETHER's relationship status?

Disclaimer: For entertainment purposes only, tarot based. It's up to you if you believe in or not. Not facts based.

Soobin

Cards: The Emperor, Four of Cups, The Star

Additional: The Magician

I was pretty confused at the start but the The Magician clarified all of it for me. In the past, Soobin felt like he wasn't emotionally ready for a relationship. He's a hopeless romantic so he wasn't completely against the idea. He had some sort of situationship/relationship/fling with someone in the past and it left him really unsatisfied with his love life, he also regretted a lot of decisions that he made during that relationship and that situation made him steer away from relationships for a while.

In the present, he feels like he's finally emotionally ready to be in one. With The Emperor card I can say he's actively looking for a partner. Not literally going on dating apps but he's in a phase where he feels serious enough to look for the one that he'll spend the rest of his life with. And Soobin is the type of person who knows what he wants and doesn't want. I'm getting that he felt like he wasn't ready in the past because of a personal goal that he hasn't reached yet and so he didn't feel fulfilled enough to give his everything in a relationship. I asked one more time if he's getting to know someone or if someone has piqued his interest but it gave me the Five of Cups, so no.

Yeonjun

Cards: The World, The Sun, Ten of Swords (Clarification: Knight of Pentacles)

I had to clarify the Ten of Swords lol. So let's get this laid out first: He is taken and has been for a while. With The World and The Sun card it says to me that this relationship he's currently in is serious, a long term relationship. He and his partner have gone through a lot of ups and downs already. I'd say a minimum of one year together. But his relationship is not looking too good currently. Seems like either Yeonjun or his partner or both of them are having a hard time figuring out where this relationship is headed. There's an uneven balance of energy where one is more serious than the other. Either way, with these cards, it tells me that Yeonjun really loves this person.

Beomgyu

Cards: Page of Cups, Two of Cups, Nine of Swords (Clarification: The Tower)

Another strong answer. He is in a relationship. Seems that it's committed, but it hasn't been that long since he entered this one. However, him and his partner are going through a rocky phase in the relationship, it's left him feeling anxious, he's overthinking a lot. There's a lack of proper communication between the two. With The Tower card, it's not looking too good for the two, it may even lead to a breakup. However, I didn't ask further questions to the deck.

Taehyun

Cards: Five of Swords, Four of Swords, Ace of Pentacles, The Tower

I was only supposed to get three cards but they wanted to be four so here we go.

A clear and hard answer, he's single af. I'm getting that he's staying away from anything romantic in his life right now. He's purely focused in his career. With the cards that I got I'm getting that he was traumatized from his previous relationship doesn't matter if the breakup happened a while ago or just recent. The situation left him broken so much that he's still in the process of healing his heart, and with the Tower I'm getting that it wasn't a clean breakup. He still thinks about it till now.

Huening Kai

Cards: The World, The Empress, Nine of Wands (Clarification: The Justice)

He's in a relationship y'all...I don't know why but with the energy of the cards he's really scared of losing this person. This person is everything that he wants in a partner and he's keen on not letting this person go. I can't tell if they just got together recently or not but he's willing to go through depths of hell. I'm getting that it took a while for his person to make their mind up and say yes to him. And I didn't intend to make this sexual but I tried pulling another card and The Devil card came up...with The Empress 😭 I guess they're having raw sex. Good for them.

-----

I'm back??? 😭😭 feel free to talk to me through retrospring or asks ^^ pls show support by liking and reblogging, it fills my heart up <3