#the one person he cares about the most almost dying in front of him (which he blames himself for). loss again. he cant fucking win!!

[sunsage]

"This city sure doesn't stop spinning, huh?" Same as always, everyone leaves and he's still here. He'll get over it eventually - that's what the kid would want him to do - but for now, he's just going to be sad for a bit. Again.

[gothicfied]

nam-gyu x shy reader 🙏🙏🙏

Nam-gyu / Player 124 with a shy reader

Pairing: Nam-gyu / Player 124 x shy!reader

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, killing, blood (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

A/N: TIHIHIHI I love this man sm

જ⁀➴ You realized pretty quickly that being rather shy in this place would get you absolutely nowhere. It made you an easy target, but no one seemed to notice you at all at first. Everyone was too busy with their owm stuff, their selfishness showing itself in the first voting. You couldn't understand how anyone would press 'O' after witnessing people die right in front of them. Was money really worth more than human lives? What would make winning even enjoyable knowing innocent people were executed? It left a bad taste in your mouth.

જ⁀➴ However, there was one person who noticed you. Since the vote was already this close, Thanos and Nam-gyu were set on trying to win some other people over to their side. They were taunting and relentless in their ways, even after starting and losing a fight with Player 001. The latter of the two had taken notice of you immediately, thinking your shyness and crippling awkwardness awkwardness was adorable.

જ⁀➴ It was clear to him you had no direction, but thankfully he was there to help you. Even if you didn't hesitate to press 'X', to Nam-gyu you seemed almost too easy to convert. He thought by charming you or paying you enough attention to boost your ego a bit, you'd 'come to your senses' and vote to continue next time. In a way, he knew how fucked up it was, but did he care? No.

જ⁀➴ Nam-gyu also thought that it'd be better if he took this over. Someone like Thanos wouldn't know how to handle someone like you. So, he'd watch your every move. Sometimes you two would lock eyes, to which nodded at you, but you could only look away quickly. You weren't good with confrontation and you already saw what those two were capable of, so you didn't want to draw Nam-gyu's attention any more.

જ⁀➴ Did that work? Of course not. Even though this should've only been to their - actually, to his benefit - he couldn't help but find himself attracted to you. You seemed sweet, almost too innocent to be in this place. A thing you weren't, though, was incompetent — and he liked that about you.

જ⁀➴ To get you out of your shell and make you trust him more, he figured he just needed to save your life. Make you feel like you owed him something. And in this place, fabricating a situation like that was obviously not hard.

After hearing the rules for the next game you played, the mingle, worry was plastered on your face. Watching everyone make a plan with their team while you were kind of just standing there, too shy to ask to join, it made you lose hope. This was it. This would be your last game, most definitely even. Thankfully, you made it out somehow, which was thanks to Player 124, or Nam-gyu, as he introduced himself. He had taken your hand and dragged you with their group to one of the safe rooms during a round and made sure you were okay after. "Thank.. you so much." you said again when stepping out of the room to a bloody mess on the white floor. You were careful not to step into any of it. "What? No," Nam-gyu laughed it off, "we have to thank you. If you hadn't come with me, we'd all be dead now."

જ⁀➴ Now he had you exactly where he wanted you. Vulnerable, but still trusting enough to try to shift your opinion. And you actually did feel like you owed him something. Now Nam-gyu felt kind of bad despite his and Thanos' plan. The more he got to know you and the less shy you got around him, the more he liked you.

જ⁀➴ You were smart and honestly very pretty and you even got along with Thanos. It seemed to him that you tried to see the good in everyone here, even if they voted 'O'. You were so full of life, he didn't know anymore if he wanted you to change your vote.

જ⁀➴ At least he got to enjoy these moments with you now, hearing you laugh and seeing you smile made him forget about the prize money for a couple of minutes every time. Perhaps he should change his vote to have more time with you outside of the games.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Lose your temper

Summary: Only loses his temper for her.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 805

Warnings: azzie being a protective pookie 🥹

A/n: hello hello i come bearing gifts after the tiny hiatus. might get my laptop back soon so dont you worry ill be back soon. ive mostly been focused on writing my wattpad books but though you all deserved a lil treat too so here i am 😌

also ps (edited) this was inspired by someones reddit post about having the sweetest father who threatened to hand a man by his intestines if they did not leave his wife alone and i think thats precious 🥺

HAVE FUN YALL

ENJOYYYY🥳

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Being the daughter of the spymaster, it almost made Hazel seem like some sort of elite fae that some feared while others pitied. The people that feared her, Hazel could understand the place they were coming from. But it was the other group that befuddled Hazel.

Why would they pity her? Did they think her father was an abuser of some kind?

Of course, he towered over a lot of people, and his physique made him known as a ruthless warrior. And yeah, maybe he also did have the most spectacular reputation to go with it, but it did not warrant people thinking he bullied Hazel too.

Or maybe it did, but Hazel could not bring herself to understand that part.

Azriel had always been the most gentle, calm and loving parent anyone could ever ask for. He was the furthest thing from mean. Hazel had never seen him get angry or raise his voice.

And it made Hazel wonder. What would be the situation in which Azriel raised his voice?

Hazel knew the one person Azriel loved the most was Y/n. He could act all he wanted when he wanted to irk Y/n that Hazel came first for him, but Hazel knew that if it came to it, he would sacrifice the whole world, her and then himself to please his wife.

And so when she asked her father, his answer came as no surprise.

"Dad, will I ever see you lose your temper?"

He laughed, his eyes not leaving the vegetables he stirred in the pan for lunch. "Maybe if someone bullies your mother, you just might."

Hazel smiled, nodding. She turned to look outside the window that faced their porch, looking at all the people that passed. Their house was in one of the quietest areas of Velaris, and so only sparse groups of people lingered around, mostly kids and housewives.

As she continued pondering his answer, her eyes fell on her mother returning from the market nearby. Hazel grinned, beginning to turn to her father to tease him about it, but then she looked closer at Y/n.

She looked disturbed, brows furrowed and lips pursed.

"Dad?"

Azriel hummed, glancing at Hazel.

"Does mom look worried to you?"

Hazel heard him draw closer, peering over her shoulder. "Mom?"

"Yeah, look."

Hazel glanced at Azriel, watching as his brows drew together and his jaw hardened.

"A male’s following her."

Hazel blinked, then turned to look. Sure enough, she saw a man come into view, jeering at Y/n’s back. Y/n was almost to the gate that opened into their lawn, and she kept glancing back at the man.

"He’s dead if he doesn’t leave."

Hazel would have smiled, but the seriousness in her father’s voice told her he wasn’t jesting.

The two watched as Y/n tried to shut the gate behind her, but the man’s foot wedged inside as he smirked triumphantly at Y/n.

And the presence of Azriel was gone from behind Hazel.

The door opened, and Hazel turned in time to see Azriel practically fly out the door, Truthteller clutched in his hand.

Oh, someone’s dying today.

"Back off!" Hazel hurried over to the door to peer out at the scene, eyes wide as her father called out.

The man’s face crumpled in fear, and he took a step back from Y/n, who turned to look at her husband. If Hazel had to be honest, it was quite funny watching one of the most feared males in all of prythian stand in front of his house with a red shirt and a stained apron on, threatening a male in broad daylight without a care.

"I swear to the mother if I see you ever again, you are going to be buried before you can even blink." Azriel growled, brandishing his dagger.

"For-forgive me, sir. I did not know she was yours-"

"And that should not matter. Don’t let me catch you harassing another female again, or-"

But that man was gone.

Azriel turned to Y/n, smiling. "Are you alright?"

Y/n grinned at him. "I am."

Azriel effortlessly grabbed the bags from his wife’s hands and shifted them to one of his, then wrapped the other one around her waist.

"Did he do something?"

Y/n shook her head, laughing. "You almost killed him before he could."

Azriel grinned, smug. "Glad to hear that."

He led his wife inside the house, casting a searching look outside before closing the door. Y/n shot Hazel an exasperated smile behind his back, making her giggle.

Hazel had always wished to have a love like her parents, but each day, she wondered if she would rather stay by herself.

Because there was no way there was someone out there who loved as Azriel loved Y/n.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[shaisuki]

DADDY'S HOME

FT. GOJO SATORU, NANAMI KENTO, TOJI FUSHIGURO, GETO SUGURU

content warnings: yandere themes, past mentions of abuse, noncon, baby trapping, dubcon, manipulation, stalking, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, ooc characters, crying, redemption arc?, murder, abuse, rushed writing. dead dove do not eat.

notes. my first post in april. been struggling for awhile and having writer's block plus having the new addition of two chunky puppies that looks like potatoes with legs. requests are slowly being worked on and i deeply apologize for the delay. thank you!

synopsis: long they searched for you and only to find out you have a child. their child. would they be still the same person who had hurt you or a changed man for the sake of your child?

GOJO SATORU

“where's your mom, little guy?”

there is no doubt about it. the child in front of him is his. it is like looking at the younger version of himself except for the hair, dyed black to conceal the snow-white hair identical to him. how fast can he come up with the conclusion that the child is his?

gojo was careful of the past hookups he got tangled with. there's no way he will knock some random stranger and be forced to take responsibility for a child he didn't want. there is only one person he did get pregnant, you.

his wife who escaped left him a few years ago with his unborn child growing inside your belly. funny how all those escape attempts you'd done in the past, you only succeeded once and that is when you're pregnant and then after that you disappeared like you didn't exist in his life but gojo isn't that willing to let you go. he will find you. there's no force or power in this life that can stop in him and only fate to intervene and guide him to you which leaves him in this current situation.

the sun begins to set and the clouds turned into a mix of oranges and red. the swing makes a creaking sound as it sways back and forth along with chains clanging with every move. resonating into the emptiness of the park and his son only ignores him. barely glancing at him while staring at the distance. waiting. waiting for his mother. waiting for his wife to pick him up.

gojo chuckles at the cold treatment his son have been giving him. hadn't been the most affectionate person just like when he's at that age. unforgiving and arrogant. he looked at the ground beneath him. a brief memory flashes by before looking at his son again. leaving the swing at a flash and sprinting towards someone. he follows the little boy and gojo smirks. fate do favor him.

“mama!” your little boy called to you. almost jumping in your arms and you fumbled a bit. balancing the plastic bags in your hold to pick up your son. threading his hair with your fingers and kissing his forehead like you always do.

“satoshi! sorry for making you wait. mama had errands to do. how are you?” in which your son looks at you with a huge grin in his face. making you smile in return and he whips his head to look at the swings and you followed his sight. there he is, your nightmare. the reason you have your son.

the temperature drops with every second as the wind blows stronger. you hugged your son tighter to you. your body freezing with your mind telling you to run and with a deep breath. you squeezed your son before taking a step backwards and turning around. never looking back.

he watched as his son went to you and you picking him up and you realizing that he's near you. just within arm's reach and that fear coming from you. good to know he still have a hold on you.

calm down! you tell to yourself while you carried satoshi away from that man. you know you can't hide from him forever. you will just run again. no matter how many times. you did it once — what's the difference of doing it again.

you write a mental note to yourself to pack your bags after this. you're not going back again to him, not with your child. you don't want him to go through the same things he put you through. he was already dead to your son and to you and he's merely a ghost who terrorizes you. when you got home, you made sure to lock all your doors before making dinner and tucking your son to bed and then you grab the bags.

after packing up the last necessities, you slowly trudged your way up to your son's room and your heart drops when you see him looming besides your son's sleeping figure.

“quite bold of you.” he began to speak and your lips tremble. he didn't face you and kept looking at his son. your face bereave with anger. “s—” the words die out before he interrupted you.

“going as far to dye my boy's hair. almost thought he's not mine and thinking you found yourself another man to take care of you. breaks my heart to kill him and take you.” caressing his son's hair. satoshi remained asleep despite the scene unfolding.

“satoshi doesn't need someone like you. we don't need you. stay away from him. from us.” you murmured. careful not to wake satoshi up and find his father. you don't need someone like gojo to be around satoshi.

“can't i?” said satoru. slowly standing up and making his way to you. “cause the last thing i remember, you were still mrs. gojo. pregnant with my baby.” you let out a silent yelp when he suddenly hugged you.

“let go.” you firmly warned him. squirming from his grasp but he only held you tighter. “i won't. now you're here with me. you don't know how much i have missed you.” he breathes out. his hand in the back of your head until it slowly descends on your back. squeezing the dips of your hips and you silently gasp. trying to keep the tears at bay. his nose in the pulse of your neck. breathing in your scent. “you won't deny me.” he whispers and before he could fully go down in you. he hears the bed creak, followed by someone shifting and a sniffle coming from his son. his hold got loose on you and with that, you pushed him off. joining his son in his bed to comfort him.

satoshi sniffles, his eyes fluttering and showing the blues that he inherited from his father. “mama?” he calls you and you immediately shush him. “mama's here, satoshi.” you coo. pulling the covers and tucking it beside you and satoshi latched into you. his eyes beading with tears. “it's just a nightmare, satoshi. nothing's going to hurt you.” you lied. there's only one who could hurt you both. the man who put you in hell for his own. he can do that to satoshi too and you won't let him.

although gojo had longed and wanted to take you there at the moment, he let you tend to his son. set aside the urges of longing for you who left him. a discovery he just had found hours ago. he's a father now. his back presses at the cold wall behind him and he melts at the tender moment before him. this is what you had been doing for the last five years and is it that long. five years. five years had gone by and he missed it. he wasn't there to take care for you and watch his child grow up. you stole the years and the moments where he could be with you and his son.

there's the gnawing feeling that eats him inside. the betrayal simmering in his chest the day you left him, days after he received the news that you were carrying his heir. it feels like an eternity after that.

when satoshi finally settled and you can hear the tiny snores coming from him. you slowly removed yourself from his side. it took awhile to pry his hands clutching your top before replacing it with a pillow. you kiss him in the forehead and it's finally to face him.

you're beneath him. his head hung low while he stares deeply at your eyes. both of your hands are pinned beside you. he glances at your bedside table. littered with pictures of you and satoshi. it makes his heart bleed to see him absent from all of it. he wasn't even there to see satoshi as a baby, taking his first step and see him grow to what he is now. it's all because you choose to leave him.

“you raised satoshi well.”

“i did. i'm not raising satoshi with you around.”

gojo hums, “oh, really? he didn't ask who might be his father is?” quite curious about it and he knows what you're about to answer and you didn't disappoint.

“i did. told his father was dead because you don't exist to us. to satoshi. why bother with us who don't want you?” you bravely stared back at his eyes and you thought this is going to be satoshi when he grows up to be satoru's age.

“i am bothered with it. my wife leaving me out of the blue with my child inside you. i told you, didn't i? i will always find you.”

you take a deep breath to keep the tears from spilling out of you. “five years. five years, satoru. you should have moved on. find another woman who can give what you want.”

“they can't if they are not you. why would I want myself another one when i know my wife and child are alive. how could you be so cruel to me, (y/n). you're my one and only.” gojo holds your cheek in his one hand while his eyes roam to your face and then landing in your lips.

he's been dying to kiss you for a long time and he can do it again. it feels like the first time he had kissed you. soft. gentle and sweet. it hurt him a bit to see you bite your lips with your eyes closed but he didn't care. he knows this was also the same way you reacted when you both created satoshi.

a familiar warmth creep up on him. his once cold heart melting at the contact of your lips against his. heart thrumming in slow beats. shallow breaths fans your skin and he gazes at you, with the same adoration present in the blues of his eyes.

“leave, satoru.” you protested but gojo ignores it. “no, i won't. you're stuck with me.” you cry softly when he kisses you again. hands wandering all over your body and whispering filth of how he missed your body.

“satoshi's sleeping next room.” he shushes you. “i know, that's why we have to keep quiet. you sure can manage that, mochi?” he didn't change with his nicknames and you were left weak and hopeless against his touches.

that night he ravaged you. marking the expanse of your skin. praising how you were still his wife and you never changed. the plushness of your body and just everything about you. motherhood is kind to you. he says. your body is made for him, nurturing his child and you freeze when he talks about putting one on you again. saying that he will give the next his all love with you present and you will both take care of satoshi and his sibling. you were terrified. tasting freedom once and he's back on you again to take it. escaping will be harder and you don't think it'll allow you with again.

in a blink of an eye, you were in your own prison again. you find yourself staring at the familiar garden and you think five years will change it. he kept it the same as the last when you left with promises that you will both be watching as your children played.

satoshi's hair had gone to its natural color. he's the spitting image of his father much to his delight but his child remained wary of him. even he's staring at the older image of him. he remained by your side.

“will i have a baby brother, mama?” he asks you while you were resting. “i don't know, satoshi. do you want a baby brother?” caressing your swollen belly and you fought the tears. satoshi noticing the tears pooling in your eyes, instantly expresses his concern. “no...no. mama is just a bit tired, satoshi. don't you worry about it, okay?” you assure him. “is it the baby?” you nodded at his question. he pouts at your answer. “then i don't want a baby brother.... or a sister!” he exclaims before jumping to hug you.

“satoshi, don't be mean to your baby brother or sister.” your husband pulls satoshi from you. “i hate who makes mama cry.” gojo chuckles at him. “me too, satoshi. let's protect your mama, shall we?” he embraces your son. satoshi nods, and you die a little inside.

you will spend the next years playing house with him with a new addition to this family. you still can't accept this. his words haunts you and you just can't.

gojo caresses your belly. looking at you with a smile on his face. “can't wait for this little one to arrive.” he says to you and you crack a smile at him. the thought of escape no longer lingers in your mind. not that you can think when you have a child with him and one coming.

NANAMI KENTO

nanami didn't take you leaving him to be so distressing. his life revolving around you and a baby on the way. it's going to be complete. a life with you and it took one night for you to leave him without a trace and so he goes back to working overtime.

the first days were grueling. searching for everywhere. going as far in finding information with your relatives who had given up on finding you. there's no sign of you. he spent the days and night thinking about you. worried about how you're doing without him. what about the baby? if the baby was to survive and reach the age of consciousness will his child think of him? the thoughts are endless and he don't think he can live another day without you.

the fluorescent lights are too bright for his eyes that has been drowned by the darkness of his room. his headaches becoming unbearable as the minute passes by and the stench of the hospital adding to his already dulled senses. cheeks hollowed with his sunken eyes. dragging his step to move forward. he shouldn't be here but if he wants to continue his job, a prescription would be nice from a professional.

after a scolding from the older doctor, balding with a pot belly. yapping about his health while he wrote his prescription. consisting of vitamins and stuff he didn't bother to read cause he will only give it to the pharmacist and continue his own source of living.

he was nearing the exit when a particular sign caught his sight. pediatric & maternity ward. he stops for a moment. wondering if you were here and he's accompanying you to get the first check up of your pregnancy and then an appointment for your ultrasound. hear the first heartbeat of his child and know the due date of you giving birth.

it's almost a year since you left him and he was to blame. nanami knows it was wrong to keep you for himself. telling that the outside world is dangerous for someone like you and he's facing the consequences of hurting you.

you must have given birth at this day and the baby must be four-months old. his heart grows heavy the more he thinks of you and his child. he began to walk away, the ward giving him pain and the regrets showing up. before he could step outside the doors from the ward opens and he hears a voice that he misses dearly.

when he turned around, he had to rubbed his eyes to ensure his vision wasn't playing him. there you stood, a nurse assisting you and talking on what he can assume as good wishes to you.

his breath hitches and when the nurse bid you farewell before going back to her duties. you smile back at the nurse and your attention is back in your baby. adjusting the blanket to provide warmth for the infant and when you were contented from it, you raised you head to look at your way. beginning to walk and you notice him.

you stopped when you recognize him. out of all the places to meet him, a hospital it is. worst is — you have your baby with you. hesitating to move forward or turn around and look for a another exit but it's him. it's nanami. you couldn't forget him and his ways of making you feel trapped.

what feels like an eternity and standing like a statue you continued to walk. abandoning the fear of being under him again. you could just ignore him and go home and so you did.

it hurts so much to let you go and he didn't have the strength to confront you. knowing that you'll run again and he don't want to scare you and make things worst. it pains him and yet, he was at peace. a heavy weight being lifted from his chest and he thinks he can breath properly again.

it took him awhile to get back in his daily routine when you were still around. he'd gotten better. there's no longer the dark lines under his eyes and he seems productive nowadays. he knows you won't take him back and he can't do that again to you. he won't give you a reason to loathe him again — not when his child is present in both of your lives.

he got your address effortlessly and now, he's standing in front of your door. holding a bouquet of flowers and he's adjusting his tie before knocking in your front door. he hears the shuffle of feet and the lock clicking. revealing yourself in front of him.

in a span of a year, you slowly managed to get back on your feet. body aching while you wash yourself clean and heal the wounds you inflicted in yourself while you were in his captivity. you needed to change — if you were going to bring this baby in the world. a brand new start for yourself.

when you met him that day at the hospital with his child cradled in your arms. it won't be too long for him to get you back and you feared for the safety of your child. you know nanami isn't that heartless but considering how could he be selfish at times — you knew what fate would await for your daughter.

not until he came knocking at your door. you weren't prepared for it and you did what only you can do — shut the door. it didn't happen, his arm blocking the door. “please, darling. let me explain.” he pleaded and it kinds of break your heart to hear him pleading but you're too hurt to give in. “leave us alone, kento.” you say to him but he's persistent.

he won't be leaving anytime soon, you think and maybe he'll force his way and escalate into something that can harm you or your child and you give in. you pull the door open and nanami sighs in relief when you opened the door for him.

“what do you want?” you bite your tongue when you said it. he didn't need to answer, you know what he wants.

“can we talk?” although he's a little worried about how you will react about it considering his past mistakes and he knows you're not going to open up at him anytime soon.

he didn't missed the change in your attitude. what hostility forming into you change into something of a hesitation. chewing into your lips as you decide whether you were ready to talk to him until you nodded. granting him to explain what he was about to say to you.

“come inside.” you softly mutter as you turned your back around him.

the full force of his regrets came crashing down at him from how the way you treat him. a reflection of how he badly treated you from shielding you against the world when it was him who was truly hurting you.

“so...” you started to speak at him. “what brings you here?” why are you this!? you thought to yourself. screaming internally at the the questions you were asking to him. how come you are this weak when it comes to this. you needed to be strong. prepare for the worst.

“you. i came here for you and for the baby. forgive me, darling but is the baby mine?”

you flinch when he questioned your baby's parentage and the bottled up feelings you were suppressing instantly bursting into the scene.

“is the baby yours?...” your words drawl out. “is the baby yours!? i didn't know that you could be this stupid, kento?! you kept me chained for years and knocked me up with your baby and you question me about her! how could you....?” so much for suppressing the feelings you couldn't say to him for a long time.

a wave of regret washes over him and you were right. he is stupid. you were crying because of him again. you were shaking like a leaf while tears continuously flowing out from your eyes. your sobs are muffled and tears are soaking his shirt. his chin resting in the top of your head while he held you close. he wishes he could take your pain. redeem himself from his old ways of treating you bad.

“you come here telling me you want me back and you want to be a part of her life.....” days. nights. you were thinking of him despite what he had done to you. “i told you, i didn't want her. didn't want a child for me to raise... cried myself to sleep every night after escaping you.” it was true. how you feel your baby growing inside you every seconds of your life, it terrified you. thinking how can you raise the baby.

kento's eyes softened. he didn't know it would hurt so much like he felt when you left him. you were getting the brunt of it more than he did. he thinks back from the days of how he treated you and the whole duration of your pregnancy and you giving birth alone. you must been so scared and alone.

all of that, the words of what you said sinking deeper in his skin. remorse and regret is evident in his face while he held you.

“i didn't know.” he whisper, his voice above a breath. “i didn't know you felt that way, darling.” the endearment of what he used to call you and calling you again with it again cause more tears to spring in your eyes. oh, how you love and hate him at the same time.

“i didn't know i could hurt you this bad, i—i was only thinking that if i have you back, everything will be fine. i didn't realize i was hurting you this much.”

he slowly moves away from you. reaching tentatively to hold your hands and his heart breaks to see the face he loves so much to be this hurt. “i want to make things right, darling.” there's a slight tremor in his voice. “i know i can't undo what i had done to you, but please, let me be here for you, for our child.” he holds your hands gently. “i'll do whatever to earn your forgiveness.” you were taken aback from all of it but deep down you could never trust him or forgive him. you didn't respond and you can only shake your head not until you hear crying in the nursery room where your baby sleeps.

“if you want to be better, leave us.” you began to walk away and as much nanami wants to snatch you again, you stop in your tracks. “and maybe, i'll let you back to us.”

“for now.” you added.

he kept true to his words. it's hard but it can never compare of what you had been through and he respects the boundary you were setting. he sent you flowers during the time he wasn't around and it was not enough, he needed to see you and when he did, he was granted to see his daughter, hold her in his arms.

the baby looks like you except for the blonde hair and it was just like he dreamt. a family with you. she's perfect. perfect as her mother who graced him with her presence and this baby, he will protect this child with you.

he finds you crying. masking it as dust getting in your eyes but nanami knows you like the back of his hand. after tucking his daughter back to her crib, he joins you. sitting beside you and it broke his heart a million pieces knowing you were still in the process of forgiving him.

he's a father now but he is still your husband. “i'm so sorry, darling.” he whispers, holding your hand in his. pulling you closer to rest your head in his shoulder but nanami had longed to kiss you again.

he cups your face in his hands. caressing your round cheeks and despite wanting to recoil from his touch and avoid his gaze, some part of you wants to be held like this and you can't lie to yourself that you missed him despite everything. tough love it was or is it there still love in that?

“let me make it up you.” you shaked your head. closing your eyes and a tear escaped from the corner of your eye. nanami frowns. sighing before pressing his forehead into yours for a moment before pulling away to kiss your forehead.

this is nothing, he will endure it for a very long time until he can be yours again.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

he call it a happy accident. toji happens to beat that self-proclaimed sorcerer piece of shit and now, that shit is meeting his creator. he pays the body no mind when that leather wallet of this weakling drops beside his body. well, it's not the body is only cold. he expects to find some cold, hard cash there and he gets more than that. a picture of his wife and toji clicks his tongue. kicking the son of a bitch's body. annoyed that his wife is playing house with a another man that didn't even manage to put a scratch on him.

an idea appeared in his mind and toji smirks. he could pay this wife of his a visit. you would be so happy to meet him.

he came knocking at your door and the look you expressed is the best you can ever muster in a true horror of him finding you, it didn't disappoint.

“hey there wife. remember me?” he said in the most cocky voice he can muster and look at you, you're almost shaking in your boots but toji is surprised as you are when you were holding a toddler in your arms. a dead ringer of him. round, emerald eyes with the same eyelashes and face as his. clutching your blouse with a pacifier in his mouth.

his sight narrows to his son and to you. his once surprised face being replaced with a bored look and you couldn't even bring yourself to close the door. you don't know what he's thinking and so he got you when you're weak.

“you birthed a brat and it's mine?” it's not a question really when he comes doing this. his hard body pressed against your soft one. trapped in the cold table where you prepare him tea. insisting that he's a guest in your house and you must be a good host to serve him.

toji sighs, a low grunt coming from him. “you could be so mean if you want to. hiding my child and you come playing house with a man you replaced me with.” your blood runs cold with every words he said and the hands wandering all over your body until it came creeping below your blouse and his rough hands are squeezing the flesh of your stomach. you closed your eyes shut.

“he's a good man. which you will never be and you killed him.” your lungs contracts before releasing a breath that will took you days, months or for years to tell him that and you said it in one breath.

his eyebrows twitch. a look of disdain dawning in his face. just because you tasted freedom and you're acting like a goddamn independent bitch. you deserved to be punished.

the tea's now forgotten cold. you're pinned in the counter top with toji's cupping your jaw in a deathly grip. the skin of your wrist turning into a another shade. the circulation cut off and it begins to numb.

“who said about me being good man? he's a weakling who can't even protect himself and that weakling lead me to you and you're his what? his bitch? a body to warm his bed? when you should be doing it to mine!? you're one ungrateful bitch.” toji chuckles and he smirks triumphantly.

“my kindness needs to be paid, princess.” and here he goes calling you with the spiteful nickname to you.

he didn't give you the time to reply and forcefully kissed you. you almost choked at his whole body weight crushing your own. you couldn't even move your face to the side and reject that kiss of him. you didn't need him and your mind froze thinking of megumi.

you don't want him to see you in this position with his father. you kissed back, giving him what he wants so you can tell him. resistance is futile with megumi present in your life now.

toji grunts. you can feel him smile against your lips and when he breaks the kiss. you stare at him with your eyes pleading. “megumi.” and toji got the message of what you're talking. he glances at the door of the kitchen and he can the tiny shadow of his son walking, although a little wobbly and using the walls to balance himself. he scoffs at his son, ruining his reunion with his mother and toji is quite annoyed by it but it didn't stop him from feeling proud of birthing his son.

toji lets you free and your knees wobbled, giving out on you and you were left kneeling at the cold floor. megumi spotted you and in his own steps made his way to you in which you hugged him tightly.

“you ain't going to introduce him to his old man, wife?” you pursed your lips at his question and ignored him. rubbing megumi's back and shutting his father out and it ticked toji to just take his son away from you but resisted the urge to do so. knowing he can use this to keep you to him again. you would be so obedient with a little threat.

“careful now. you don't want me taking our little megumi away from you.” he warns. “now, put megumi to sleep and we can continue this little reunion of ours.” you nodded and you immediately scamper away from him and you see the front door. you can run but he'll catch you. you accepted your fate now and you would take the brunt of his punishments cause you're a disobedient wide who didn't care about your husband's desire.

it would be a waste to chain you again. toji thought. you're a mother now and he got a son with you. he don't want any interfering from how you will raise his son. he couldn't think about anything and maybe after you put megumi to sleep. he could think the ways he could keep you by his side again. for now, he'll just be a little patient and he can have you again for himself again.

GETO SUGURU

it was a mix of being ashamed and scared.

you knew this day will come when suguru and his child will reunite once again. the last he seen you was a baby bump visible in your dress in which he was happy. it did take root. a new lineage for the age of sorcerers.

dusk beginning to settle in the skies and you were supposed to fetch your son in the front yard telling that supper is ready and to your surprise. you found suguru standing tall, head low to face your son. a smile plastered in his face the whole time talking to your son and then he notices your stiff figure standing in the pavement before slowly walking towards them.

“i am your father. did your mommy told you that?” he asks and your son is processing what the words could mean. taking a glance between you and to his father. waiting for an answer in which you remained silent and only to tell him to go inside and wait for you.

suguru smiles. the smile that you hadn't seen for years and you can't deny that it still have an effect on you. “missed me, (y/n)?” the curse user spoke to you. his black and long hair swaying in the rhythm of the gentle breeze blowing.

“not really.” you honestly said to him and suguru's eyes changes into something dark from how you responded. “guess you got tired of all that luxury or everything's not enough for you.” he tuts. following the changes that is present in your face but he only received a curt shake of your head.

how shallow is that. you were like a pet to him. something he owned. a possession. he didn't like you being you and so you were lavished with expensive stuff that would keep you chained from the compound and to his little family. family. one you never had and never truly belonged in his place however you laid with him every night and the result, your son. living and breathing.

once you found out you were with child. it was a realization that you were never free and it hit you that this child will suffer the same fate as you and so you walked out. never looking back with the sole intention that you will raise this child with a perspective of the world and not to be influenced. his own and so you lived for years in peace until he showed up.

a shiver went down your spine from the contact of his fingers tracing to your soft jawline. electric and shocking. with a touch you will obey him but it's different. you're a mother now and something so good will only bring you to your own demise and it will extend to your child.

it is but you missed him touching you. a slave for his affections and you weren't really different from your past self. mustering the courage is the same as surrending yourself from the man who you treated as your world.

closing your eyes and you raised your head to meet suguru's eyes. purple it is. “you would understand why i left you, suguru. i can't raise ryū in that place.”

“and you think excluding me from ryū's life will change it?” not breaking eye contact while he caress your round cheek.

“yes. you're mad suguru and i can't change that.”

suguru chuckles. how motherhood impacted your ways of thinking. finding it so endearing to see you standing up and you wouldn't believe it that he's much more in love with your or whatever he was feeling. he knows it's bad for him and to you. “look at that, motherhood did you good. mad? i'll show what's mad, my dear wife.” he leans to whisper something to your ear. “i will let this go once and then prepare yourself. you will be back to me and with ryū, there's no chance of turning your back away from me.” he softly threatens to you and it weighs heavier. a contrast of the mellow tone of voice he was using.

“see you soon, (y/n).” kissing your cheeks before waving a hand to say goodbye to your son who was staring behind the windows.

suguru left after that and you knew what's about to come and you wished none of that will happen but suguru was always true to his words and you abandoned hope.

he will come back.

[stillaclownlol]

Gonna throw up If I can't talk about them-

Bunch of Aiden analysis under the cut because he's just SO OBSESSED CODED AND NOBODY TALKS ABOUT IT 😭 (I will be very weird about it)

The way it's so doomed from the start. He's already so fascinated by her. It's in the little jump he does when she sits in front of him, like a secret they're both in on, like her sitting in front of him is some obscure way of her inviting him into a conversation.

Why is he like this (not positive but not negative either)

He has such a cocktail of personality traits and, most certainly, mental disorders, and his own history that makes it so, when he's in love, that it WILL blow up in his face.

The fact that he's been homeschooled for his entire life- he has no idea. HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW. He doesnt realize that its not normal. of course he doesn't :( His parents obviously leave him alone for long stretches of time and he doesn't seem to mind this. He hasn't had the chance to develop his social skills at all-

It's why he's so, let's be real, creepy. Ash makes it very clear she's not interested and he just keeps worming his way into her life. He plots so that she'll go on the field trip, he follows her around, he goes to her fucking house on the first day. LIKE, HELLO? RED FLAG?

He's having evil thoughts here I swear 💀

And already so quickly after meeting her he makes Ash his priority. He asks to sit next to her, he engages and makes an effort to talk to her. Tries to joke around with her. Gives her a nickname. Touches her. He's so touchy.

And defends her!!! When Tyler gets pissed at Ash, he honestly goes off on him even tho he KNOWS Ash can defend herself- and he's so...dark about it. There's a threat hidden behind his words. He's MAD here, right? Tell me I'm not crazy, please-

He also very clearly has violence on the forefront of his mind 💀 He's the first one to actively attack the phantoms; not to defend himself, not to defend somebody else (well, he pulls Ash out of the way), but for fun. And he's disappointed when they don't scream. He's sadistic, he likes causing pain, it's something he relishes in.

I mean look at how he smiles!!! None of the other kids have such an...active ENJOYMENT in fighting the phantoms, but for Aiden, it's almost like he finds relief in it, some way to vent out his frustrations. He's eager for a fight, for a thrill.

That's how Aiden sustains himself, he pretty much operates under "I'm here for a good time, not a long time." Everything he does gives him a boost of adrenaline, no matter the consequences. He got into a fight? Eh, who cares about all the bruises, at least it got his blood rushing. Broke a bone while doing parkour or smth? Whatever, the way his stomach dropped when he was falling as totally worth it.

It's a very dangerous mentality to live with, obviously. He's an adrenaline junkie. He's an addict. More than anything else, Aiden wants something that makes him feel alive.

And what makes you feel more alive than love?

Like not to minimise or anything but he's known her for like. 2-3 months- and he's already SO scared of losing her. Like I just don't think he would have had this type of reaction with anybody else besides Ben. He would have absolutely lost his shit if Ash 'died'.

He's a straight up love junkie. He's obsessive. Nothing beats the high love can give you. It overrules everything else. If Ash (or whoever he's interested in) feels bad because of smth, he's done with it.

He LIKED dying. He LIKED the adrenaline rush. But he won't do it again. Not because he had some realization that he didn't want to die, that he still wanted to live and do things, but because Ash was upset. Because this, this rush of care from her part, the way she was so scared of him dying that she was shaking, nothing could fill the hole in his heart better than that. And now that he has a taste for it, he won't let go easy. He will keep on living- if it means Ash will be by his side.

Which is a very dangerous position to put her in. Ash already feels responsible for her friends, and she doesn't even know that Aiden has "put" his life in her hands, not that it's her responsibility, because it isn't, but she will certainly feel responsible if Aiden does something FOR her.

Like He's so fucking obsessed and he doesn't even realize it- like look at how he sees her 😭 THE HEAVENLY GLOOOOOOW, LIKE SHES AN ANGEL AND HE THINKS SHE CAN SAVE HIM. BABY SHE CANT, YOU HAVE TO SAVE YOURSELF.

He could spiral so fucking bad. He could do some absolutely heinous things. Because he just doesn't know. He doesn't know how to love truly, yet. For him love really is that rush of adrenaline, the knife carving out his heart, he could be putty in her hands, or her executioner. This love that can be so obsessive, that he NEEDS it to function, like its water, like its the air he breathes. Its a compulsion, a fixation, a longing that burrows into your very soul. Ash doesn't even know what she's getting herself into-

Godddddd, it makes me so sick/ pos, it's SO FUCKING INTERESTINGGGGGG. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

I literally cannot function around this drawing 🫠

The. The hand. That way he's grabbing her. He's pulling her back. Towards HIM. like "this is mine. And I'm not sharing." And that little fucking look in his eyes, he just looks SO fucking pleased with himself. And Ash looks so...resigned. they're so doomed-coded, i love them so bad.

I don't know how I was supposed to NOT make a killer au, when he's just...like that around her.

Love is a wonderful thing. But love is also cruel, it is vicious, it is possessive and obsessive, and it will leave carnage in its wake.

Romantic love is an obsession. It possesses you. You lose your sense of self. You cannot stop thinking about another human being. -Helen Fisher

[beejunos]

Can you do alastor x fem!reader where she gets injured, so she tries to hide it (cuz he's a bit overprotective), and by hiding it, I mean basically ignoring him but he finds out anyways and he's more mad that she thought she had to hide it or something idk PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I NEED THIS

(Hope this made sense)

Well shit, this one took me some time to write. Sorry about that! Hope you like it! It was very fun to write 🌹

Alastor finds out you have hidden an injury from him

The last extermination battle at the hotel had been brutal. Although you had won, the casualties were enormous. The hotel in ruins with dead bodies, sinners and angels, all around it. It had taken you and your friends days to bury them all on the grounds outside of the city, all while most of you were healing from different injuries. Some more severe than others.

During the battle, you had taken a spear to your shoulder, but it hadn't pierced you deep enough for it to be lethal. 

You just needed to ensure you didn't move your arm too much. Which turned out to not be a too tricky process since you were stabbed in the shoulder of your non-dominant hand. 

Only lifting things that you could carry with one hand was, making sure that you didn't move your arm in strange ways; it all became a strange dance you did around the others to make sure no one paid you any mind. 

You were the sole healer in the hotel, and therefore, it was essential that you remained at your best. You had only suffered an injury to the shoulder; you weren't dying, so you couldn't let that affect your work. After all, Charlie and the others relied on you to provide medical assistance, and any delay or absence from your side could prove to be disastrous. You had lost count of how many times you had scolded Vaggie or Husk for ignoring their injuries or not treating them with the needed care. However, you were keeping count of how many times you had smacked Husk in the back of the head to stop him from licking his wounds. As of right now, you have hit him five times. You knew that you needed to prioritize the needs of the hotel, and so you decided to put aside your own health concerns for the time being. You trusted that you would be able to care for your injury later when your work was done, but right now, your friend's well-being was the most important priority. 

There was just one person who you feared would put a stop to your work. Alastor, although absent during the hotel's rebuilding as he had suffered a significant injury to his chest that he had, thankfully, let you treat, was probably suspecting that something was wrong with you. But since he hadn't been there during the rebuilding, he hadn't seen you at your worst, and you wouldn't let him see it either. He was caring but could be overprotecting when it came to you, which could be cute if it didn't hinder your work. 

While your partner admired your work ethic, he didn't quite understand why you needed to put everyone else before yourself to the point of ruination. Seeing others as more important than oneself was nonsense to him, especially if one's health was at risk, but you didn't share his worldview. To you, it was important to care for others, to care and shield them, for that is what you were raised to do. To care for those who needed your help, to shield the ones who needed your shelter, and to protect the ones weaker than you. You alone needed to carry that burden; if you didn't, who would?  

­­­The new hotel was magnificent, more stable, and much bigger than before, which worked to your advantage since you avoided the other residents of the hotel. Your injury had gotten worse, making it almost impossible to move your arm without winching. If the wound had been in any other position on your body, you would have cared for it a long time ago, but since it was in such an awkward position that was hard to reach, you had a hard time properly caring for the wound. 

And here you were now, standing in front of the mirror of your bathroom, trying to clean the infected wound. Bloody pieces of paper laid spread out on the bathroom vanity as you dried to reach the infected stab wound on your shoulder. It proved to be quite difficult because no matter how you tried to contort yourself to reach the injury, the infection made it difficult for you to move your upper body without significant pain. 

A small part of you begged you to call for help, saying that you couldn't do this alone, but you refused to be a burden. You could care for yourself. 

You didn't want to trouble the other with something that you should be able to fix yourself.

You felt a chill running down your spine as beads of cold sweat trickled down the small of your back. Your breathing was laboured, punctuated by ragged gasps as you tried to cope with the excruciating pain that was coursing through your body. You attempted to raise your dominant hand to clean the wound, but the throbbing ache in your arm made it almost impossible. It was then that you heard a soft knocking at your bedroom door, which came as a surprise, as you had been so focused on dealing with the pain that you had lost track of time. The ringing in your ears made it difficult to discern who could be knocking, but you knew that you had to muster all your strength to answer it. 

"Yes?" you called out, leaving the bathroom by leaning your hand against the wall. 

"My dear, are you alright?" came Alastor's ever-chipper reply, and you silently swore to yourself, wishing that he would just leave.

"Yes, I'm fine!" you tried to sound confident and happy, but the pain made your voice waver in a way it never did. 

"You haven't left your room all day. I must say, I'm getting quite concerned. Is it alright if I come in?"  

"No! Please, go away-" 

"I'm coming in!" Alastor called out louder than before, and you wondered if he deliberately ignored your answer. Panic pooled in your chest, cold and numbing, as you pushed yourself away from the wall to lock the door before Alastor could get in. However, you had overestimated how much weight your legs could bear in your weakened state. Halfway to the door, your knees collapsed under you, and you fell down to the floor. Your injured shoulder taking the fall. 

Red, hot pain ripped through you like a tsunami, taking all your senses with you, and for a moment, you were blinded by the pain. When you came to it, you saw Alastor kneeling beside you, his hand hovering hesitantly over your shoulder.

"My dear, what have you done?" Alastor said, his voice but a whisper. 

With a surprising amount of strength, Alastor lifts you up from the floor without putting too much pressure on your wound and walks into the bathroom, where he places you on the toilet seat. He looks around at the bloody mess that was your bathroom vanity with an emotionless expression, and hadn't you been so experienced with reading his body language, you would have missed the flexing of his hand that he only did when he was frustrated or angry.

"Why didn't you tell me?" A shill travelled up your spine when he said that, for there was barely any radio overlay on his voice. Refusing to look at you, Alastor picked up one of the pieces of paper you had used to try to clean your wound. 

"I didn't want to be a burden," you mumbled, looking down at your feet. Shame swam around in your hollowed stomach, making you feel sick and empty.   

"A burden?" You could hear the disbelief in his voice, "Have I made you feel like that?"

"No!" You hastily say, "No, never." 

"Then you don't trust me." He's still not looking at you. 

"No, I trust you," you plead.

"Then why did you not tell me that you were hurt?!" You can hear the anger and hurt in his voice, but worst of all, you can see it in his eyes. A swirling storm, contained chaos, rages within him, dribbling out within the bathroom walls as it licks against your skin. You're sure that your shame radiates from your body as tears form in the corners of your eyes, and you look down again, unable to meet Alastors anger, his anguish. 

"I... I don't know," you whisper, and you genuinely don't know. What you once believed and told yourself was so important now felt so small and stupid. To forego your lover's caring hand for a duty you had put on yourself. 

Your vision fills with red as Alastor goes down on one knee before you. He takes your shaking hands within his.

"My love, please, come to me whenever you need help. I couldn't bear to see you destroy yourself; you are too important to me for that." He lifts one of his hands and gently caresses your cheek. Closing your eyes, you lean down and press your forehead against his.

"I'm sorry," you say and genuinely mean it. After all, you would have been angry and hurt if Alastor had done something like this to you. 

He sighs before he closes his eyes and says, "Don't apologise, my love. Only promise me that you will come to me whenever you need it."

"I promise," you say and kiss him on his cheeks and forehead before you finally kiss his lips. Featherlight and sweet, a seal to your promise. 

"Let me help you with your injury," he sighs and stands up again as you turn around, showing him your shoulder. 

Alastor helps you with your wound for the rest of the evening, and never have you felt so cared for. Even if the situation was laced with a bittersweet pledge. 

[2hightocare]

LOVE WAGER! 01

Synopsis: Meeting a crazy stranger who cuts in line, tries to tell you love like the books doesn’t exist—it’s whatever. You won’t ever see him again… right?

Pairings: jungkook x fem!reader

Genre: college au. strangers to friends to lovers. forced proximity.

Warnings: mentions of divorce parents, Jungkook lowkey being insufferable, banter, cussing, a little bit of them being enemies, nicknames, oc being a hopeless romantic at heart, Jungkook being lowkey a cynic… them meeting each other so many times, choking!

a/n: first chapter out!! Woohoo, I’ve been keeping them close to my heart for quite some time. Ever since I listened to “in between” by Gracie Abrams.. I was inspired to write them—the song is so them coded.💌

★ masterlist!

3 years ago…

You were a hopeless romantic.

Most people called it being delusional— by people, you mean the random stranger in front of you.

The first time you met Jungkook, not only did he cut in front of you in line, but he also started shit-talking about how delusional you had to be to think romance books were even remotely comparable to real life.

The line at the cupcake shop was long. You had been wanting to try the new chocolate-covered strawberry flavor from your favorite cupcake shop in the city. The shop was always full, but today it was packed to the bone— the line almost reached outside the door. The people sitting at the cute pastel-colored tables were even leaving because the space was getting so crowded.

It was a Friday, and you had just left school. Your black backpack hung loosely over one shoulder as you stared down at your phone, trying not to die playing Subway Surfers. When your phone died, you internally groaned.

You mentally rolled your eyes before looking forward, where the line was starting to move faster. You were probably the fourth person in line, which was good since you'd only been there for around twenty minutes. You slipped your phone into the back pocket of your jeans before reaching for the zipper of your backpack—pulling out the latest book you hadn’t finished reading amidst all the assignments teachers had been bombarding you with. You thought it was dumb, considering it was your senior year in high school—why not just let you off easy?

You zipped up your backpack before slipping it on, tucking in the small hair that fell into your face when you opened your book. You moved forward as the line advanced, not bothered by the conversations from everyone around you—it was like your own brown noise, which you usually looked up on YouTube whenever you wanted to act like the main character in a movie.

Romance books were your thing. The same went for movies; you loved a good romantic story with the most cliché plot in the world—it did it for you every single time.

Your dad had tried getting you into self-help books, fiction books, or even those thriller books where you had to guess who kills who. He would back this up with actually learning something from reading a book, and you tried all those genres, you really did. You were the most specific girl there could be; if the book didn't impress you within one chapter, you closed it and moved on.

You were basically in love with the idea of love, imagining someone doing all those things you had seen in movies and read about, which filled you with hope that someone could care and love you that way. Yes, you believed in soulmates; you believed that someone, somewhere in this world, was destined to be with you, no matter the circumstances. You believed that if two people were destined for each other, they would find a way to each other, one way or another.

“Hi, baby, you still haven’t ordered? The line is so fucking long.” A strange boy, who looked around your age or maybe slightly older due to his eyebrow piercing, spoke up. He had a navy blue cap with the Yankees logo on the front, and you could see small pieces of his hair. It looked like a dark brown, but at some angles, it looked black, so you thought maybe he dyed it. He was cute, with a sharp jaw and dimples, which you immediately noticed when they showed on his left cheek as he bit his lip, waiting for you to reply.

“I’m sorry—“ you started, only to be cut off by him. “I've been meaning to show you this, babe.” He cut you off before basically shoving his phone into your face. His phone showed his notes app open with a text that read, ‘Please act like you know me so I can cut in line; it’s so long, and I have somewhere to be.’

Your brows furrowed at the pleading guy. You had no clue what his name was, but he looked like he was seriously about to lose his mind if he had to wait another minute in line. You shook your head before nodding— a smile burst on his face.

“Thank you,” he mouthed to you, to which you only shrugged before closing your book. “What flavor are you getting, lovebug?” He said, his nose scrunching in disgust at what he just said. A small laugh escaped your lips since that was the cringiest shit you had heard all day, maybe even all week if you didn’t count your dad trying to write you a poem about his love for your cat.

“I want to get the new chocolate-covered strawberry flavor. What about you?” You said, your fingers fidgeting with the pages of your closed book. His eyes dropped to your hands as you moved up in line, now second in line.

“Is that your book?” He said instead of replying to your question. “Yeah, do you read?” A spike of excitement was clear in your face and voice, only to be squashed when he opened his mouth.

“Do you actually believe anything in there is remotely realistic?” He said nonchalantly before removing his cap, letting his fluffy hair fall in his face before almost immediately collecting it back, placing his cap backward this time.

“I—“ you stutter, your mouth slightly agape, not knowing how to reply without sounding dumb. Because, yeah, you strongly believed romance books were able to happen in real life if someone loved you enough. “Well.. I mean, love happens anywhere,” you shrug, but he only nods his head in a condescending way. Not only were you helping him skip in line—he was basically criticizing your view on love.

“Well, duh, love happens, but all that cringey shit is the dumbest thing our generation normalized. Like, nobody is going to confess their love with a microphone in the middle of a dance-off,” he scoffs. You didn’t understand why he actually looked like he seriously hated the idea of making gestures for someone you loved or cared about.

“Well, obviously, I find that stupid as well, but there are other gestures to show your appreciation and love for someone.” You turn your whole body to face him. He’s not much taller than you, maybe two inches if you really wanted to know, and the cap maybe added another inch, but that didn’t matter since your eyesight was eye level with his.

“Love is embarrassing,” he says, crossing his arms in front of him. You felt the lady behind you both, her eyes bore into you both, trying to figure out why the supposed couple were fighting about love.

“How is love embarrassing?” You scoff before turning around to look in front of you, at the back of the head of the man who was ordering.

“Because love makes you do embarrassing shit all the time; that’s the easiest way I can put it for you, ribbons,” he replies with a duh tone, raising his eyebrows at you, which you see from your peripheral vision.

“Ribbons?” You turn to him, your arms crossed over your book as you glare at him. “Pink ribbon. Don’t you think you look a little too old to be wearing bows?” A grin appears on his face as he casually points to the pink ribbon tied into a bow in your hair.

“The fuck? Not only did I let you skip the line, but you’re a) talking shit about my favorite genre, and b) making fun of me wearing bows.” You turn your full body to him, which he only raises his hands in defense, as if you had a gun pointed at him.

“Damn, my bad. I thought this was a free country; you know your amendments, right?” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Yes, I fucking know my amendments,” you reply, absolutely annoyed at him bringing history into this.

“Freedom of speech,” he says before walking in front of you to the cashier. You were annoyed, maybe even angry. How dare he talk shit and say freedom of speech when you just did him a favor.

“He cut in front of me,” you point to him as you tell on him to the cashier, his jaw dropping to the floor. “Did you just tell on me? What the fuck,” he side-eyes you as you just shrugged.

“I respectfully need to ask you to go to the back of the line,” the cashier says, shooting you an apologetic look. You bite on the inside of your cheek to contain the smile that is threatening to slip out, as he sends you a mocking face, which you return, because apparently, you both were literal children. He rolled his eyes before he walked off.

2 years ago..

The second time you met Jungkook, you almost died due to choking on your coke.

You and your best-friend, Amelia, sat in a booth, munching on pizza, while you hear her ramble about the latest drama on campus.

“I can’t believe he cheated on her. I was so shocked, like I couldn’t believe he would do that after he literally gave her a promise ring—I heard it was expensive as well, bro,” Amelia said, stuffing a French fry in her mouth.

Amelia and you had been best friends since your freshman year at Preston University. She ended up in your dorm room by mistake, until security escorted her to her corresponding room. You both even had your calculus class together, which ended in both of you ripping your hair out because you truly had no clue what the professor was talking about.

“Oh my god, you’re lying!” you gasped, taking a bite of your folded pizza. “Alexandra said she didn’t care, but apparently, she was crying at the frat party we were supposed to go to yesterday,” Amelia said, pressing her lips together with wide eyes. As you were about to reply, she gasped.

“Holy shit, babes, don’t turn around, but there’s this fine-ass guy behind you,” she said. Without thinking you turned your whole body to look at the guy she was talking about.

“Or just turn your whole body, I don't care,” she added, rolling her eyes.

“Wait, who?” you asked, staring at the group of boys in front of you. They were all cute, just not your type whatsoever. “He just turned around, so you can’t see his face, but the one with the black beanie,” Amelia whispered to you as she took a sip of her Dr Pepper.

As you stared at the back of the boy who was engrossed in a conversation with his friend, a loud laugh escaped his lips before he threw his head back, letting you catch a glimpse of his face.

“Oh, fuck, his laugh is hot as fuck as well,” Amelia said behind you, chewing on her crispy fries. “Do you think he has a girlfrien—“ The words melted from your mouth as the beanie boy turned around. “Yeah, he definitely has a girlfriend,” Amelia said nonchalantly, clearly not catching how your eyes widened, as you both stare at the boy who had cut in front of you in line three years ago.

He was taller, much taller, and he was built—you could tell even from his oversized long-sleeve shirt. As much as you wanted to disagree, he was undeniably attractive. The eyebrow piercing was still there, but it somehow looked better than when you first saw it.

“Ribbons?” he said, pointing at you with a chuckle, making you flinch for absolutely no reason. Amelia looked between both of you, trying to read the room.

“Mr. anti-romantic?” You fired back, a huge smile breaking out on his face before he excused himself from his friend group and made his way to your booth. “I see you got a nickname for me... I feel honored,” he said, pressing a palm to his heart dramatically before shooting a nod at Amelia, who waved with a small smile on her face.

You just rolled your eyes. He was the most childish person you had ever met, and that says a lot since this was only the second time you'd ever spoken to him. “I wouldn’t be so honored,” you mumbled, shooting him a tight-lipped smile as he shook his head with a low chuckle.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Amelia said out of nowhere, both you and the unknown boy's heads snap to the side as a smirk makes it’s way to his mouth, while you throw daggers at Amelia with your eyes for her blunt question. “I doubt he would ever hav—“ you start, only to be rudely interrupted by none other than Mr. anti-romantic himself.

“I actually do, and I was just about to meet her here, but I saw your friend and just had to come and say hello,” he said to your best friend, all while wearing a condescending smile.

“Oof, I feel bad for her,” you shrugged, before placing the straw of your clear cup in your mouth and sipping on your coke.

“Eh, she says I’m a pretty good boyfriend, not a hopeless romantic like someone I know,” he said, watching your eyes meet his before you tilted your head in a mocking way, which he picked up immediately.

“I wonder how you even got her to say yes to you,” you bit back, your eyes maintaining contact with his, not wanting to be the first to break it. But he was too good at it; you almost felt like crumbling into a ball from how intense his stare was.

“I guess you could say there are more ways to please a woman without love letters,” he said nonchalantly. You choked on your coke as the liquid went down the wrong pipe, making you start having a coughing attack.

His and Amelia’s eyes widened as Amelia immediately swatted the man who was right beside you. His hand made contact with your arm, raising it up in the air.

“The fuck are you doing?” Amelia said aggressively, side-eyeing him, as you basically died in front of their wondering eyes. You really didn’t expect him to just talk about his sexual life so openly without a care. You would want to crawl into a hole if your boyfriend ever talked about your private moments like that to anyone.

“My mom said if you put someone’s hand up, it makes your cough go away. I don’t fucking know! I’m not a doctor,” he shot back at your best friend as he raised your arm in the air. Your cough slightly disappeared as you tapped on your chest as if that would do anything to stop it.

“Are you good?” Amelia said as she basically hovered over the table. You felt the whole dinner's eyes on you as you tried to recover from the insane coughing fit you just had. “Y-yeah, fuck,” you coughed, your arms still up in the air from his hold. “I almost for real thought you were about to die. I already imagined myself behind bars,” he said, rubbing his unoccupied hand through his face with a sigh.

“Now I’m hoping I actually died,” you said, yanking your arm away from his grasp.

“We’re leaving, Amelia. Let’s go,” you said, standing up, collecting your jacket and bag, and pushing him out of the way, standing up beside him.

He hovered over you; you almost wanted to jump up to reach his height, but you were already embarrassed enough. So instead, you fixed your denim skirt before looking up at him.

“Well, it was so not nice to see you again, and hopefully we don’t get to meet again, Mr. anti-romantic. Goodbye,” you said as you sent him a fake smile his way.

You pulled on Amelia’s hand before she could say anything and walked out of the dining room without looking back at the boy who was standing in the same place, watching the girl he almost witnessed pass away by choking on coke from him even remotely bringing up sex.

A small chuckle left past his lips as he made his way to the table where his friends were seated.

“Dude, what the fuck happened? Why was that pretty girl coughing like crazy?” Taehyung said, eyeing the door through which you had just left.

Jungkook didn’t know why his heart picked up when his best friend called you pretty. He wasn’t blind; you were beautiful. When he first met you, you both were obviously much younger. If it wasn’t for how much you had grown into your face and the braces you once had were long gone, it would’ve been your aura that gave it away. You were more outspoken, which kinda took him back but sent a sense of excitement through his body.

“No clue. Just some girl I met in my senior year... kinda taken aback I ran into her again,” Jungkook said before picking up the menu from the table, looking for what food he should order. “Maybe it’s fate, bro,” Namjoon teased, which made Jungkook drop his menu on the table.

“You guys know all that shit is bullshit, right? It was just a coincidence. I’ll probably never see her again after this,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, leaning backward onto the booth and crossing his arms in front of him defensively.

“Whatever you say, champion,” Hoseok whistled as he called the waitress.

Jungkook's brain immediately canceled out the noise as he started running through all the possible scenarios that would leave you both at the same place at the same time. His body shook from the possibility of it being fate; he hated the idea of the answer being anything besides actual proven fact. He didn’t care how cynical he might sound; he had trusted so many people in his life, including his parents, who always preached about love and honesty. But flash forward to him having to skip around each house of his parents every weekday and weekend. He hated how he believed them when they said love can get through everything. Absolutely not—divorce.

He just imagined your perfect household, two parents at the same home who still say ‘I love you’ to each other every chance they get. You get to read your books in your living room without a fight breaking out out of nowhere just because someone forgot to throw the trash out.

Love didn’t exist in his eyes. He believed in mutual respect. He doesn’t believe in the whole crazy in love charade. His girlfriend Haneul didn’t really want the whole whispering cute things in each other's ears or dancing under the moon either, and that’s why he chose her.

Plus, he wasn’t an asshole when it came to love when it came to other people. Did he want to ruin their moment and tell them they wouldn’t last? Yes—but he never does.

He saw how broken his mom was after the divorce. He thought about the idea of love and if someone came to love you, you would do anything in your power to not hurt them. It had been five years since his parents’ divorce, and everyone seemed to have moved on perfectly, while Jungkook watched how his perspective of love changed drastically over time.

He was glad that you didn’t have to go through what he had to go through, given your obvious naivety. That was entirely the only reason he shit-talked about love when he first met you, which was the most jackass move he could’ve done, especially after you let him skip the line. But after you told on him to the cashier like a little child, he was thinking of actually tackling you.

Either way, it didn’t matter for him to be worrying or thinking about you in the first place, when he didn’t even know your name. Plus, he would never see you again, that’s for sure.

Present day..

Psychology class was your number one nemesis. You literally begged the counselor to let you have another class that wasn’t psychology. Not only did he laugh, but he said it would do you good. In your mind, he basically called you crazy—maybe you did need the class after all.

As you huffed and puffed to your last class of the day, you fixed your glasses on your face and tightened the high ponytail with the white ribbon that matched the outfit Amelia helped you pick out. You pushed open the door to the class and were greeted by half-empty seats and no professor, giving you the option to choose where you sat.

You were a middle-seat row girl, unable to see far away without your glasses. You also avoided sitting too close to the front, fearing teachers would call on you.

As you took a seat in the chair, a body sat beside you without a word. You didn’t even care to look as you took out your laptop from your backpack, worrying about how this year’s professor might be. You had heard from last year’s students that the teacher might have been the devil’s spawn.

While you were finally seated, you moved your head to your left to see the body next to you engrossed in their phone. Your jaw dropped as you were met with none other than Mr. Anti-Romantic.

“What the actual fuck, are you stalking me or something?” you said, absolutely baffled by how many times you had run into him and from all the empty seats, he decided to sit next to you.

He immediately raised his head from his phone, his eyes widening as he stared at your obviously angry face. “Ribbons? What the actual fuck, I didn’t realize that was you,” he said, throwing his head back in shock.

“You had to know it was me, why else would you sit beside me?” you scoffed, crossing your arms in front of you. He looked the same as the last time you saw him, except now he had a full sleeve of tattoos on his right arm, and the eyebrow piercing was long gone.

Now that he was closer to you, you could see the small mole he had under his lip and the scar on his cheek. His hair was shorter and black, but classroom lights deceived, so maybe it was fully brown, but you didn’t dare to ask.

“Don’t think you’re special, Ribbons. I just can’t see from the back, and in the front, teachers always pick on you to talk in front of the class, and I’m trying to avoid that,” he explained, having the same process as you, but unfortunately, the other half of his brain didn’t process the idea of love.

“Are you sure you have the right class?” you bit out, hoping he had walked into the wrong class and would have to leave immediately. You seriously couldn’t even wrap your head around the fact that he was here and that he went to the same university as you—this being the first time he had seen you around campus.

“Psychology class A65,” he side-eyed you as you rolled your eyes and faced the board, trying your best to ignore his presence.

“You know you can just move to another seat, right?” he said, pointing to all the empty seats beside you. Your head slowly turned to the side to face his face as he gave you a tight-lipped smile.

“Why would I move when I was here first?” you scoffed his way as he shrugged, indicating that he couldn’t care less. “’Cause I truly don’t care, but you obviously seem affected by my presence, so Ribbons, pick your seat,” he pointed to the available seats.

You imagined the easiest way you could kill someone, but tackling him to the ground at this exact moment might bring attention to you both, so you just breathed out of your nose before giving him a fake smile and rolling your eyes.

“I’m not leaving, and for your information, I’m perfectly fine and not bothered by your presence whatsoever,” you said, trying your best to seem as calm and collected as possible.

“For your information…” he mocked beside you, trying to imitate your voice before chuckling. “I swear, Ribbons, I can see smoke coming out of your ears and nose,” he laughed.

“Stop calling me Ribbons,” you gritted your teeth, already at your limit.

“What else do you want me to call you? I don’t know your name, and you’re still wearing ribbons, I can see,” Mr. Anti-Romantic pointed to the white ribbon in your hair. You rolled your eyes before sending his calm, collected figure a scanty smile.

“Y/n,” you said, tilting your head to the side, as if asking him to tell you his name. “I like Mr. Anti-Romantic, not gonna lie,” he bit his lip, trying to contain his laughter as you were about to lose your composure at any moment.

“You aggravate me, and I don’t know why,” you mumbled, hoping he didn’t hear—but he did, loud and clear. “Jeon Jungkook,” he said, and before you could reply, the professor strode in, wearing the weirdest clothes you could imagine.

“She looks like that one crazy Victorious teacher,” he whispered softly, only for you to hear, smugly bending downward so you could hear better. A small laugh left your lips. “Sikowitz?” you whispered back as both of you stared forward at the professor, who was talking about the syllabus. “Yeah, spot the difference: hard level,” he whispered.

You looked down at your hands, trying to hide the amusement on your face.

For the rest of the class, you guys didn’t talk whatsoever, and honestly, you wouldn’t know if he tried, since you were absorbed in whatever Mrs. Calderon was saying.

“So, here’s where you start hating me, I’m giving you guys a project,” she said, leaning on her desk, making the desk creak. You could hear small groans from students around you, but not loud enough for her to hear.

“It will be a partner project, which I chose randomly, and no, I’m not changing them. I want you guys to be able to work with whomever, no matter what,” she said, a sense of dread passing through you.

“I would email each and every one of you what the project is about. It is due at the end of the quarter, so I better not hear, ‘I didn’t have time, Miss,’” Mrs. Calderon said before picking up a sheet of paper.

"Here are the partners, so after class, come and check who your partner is so you can start talking about what you both will do." With that the bell ringing, everyone stood up and rushed to the paper, including yourself. You held tightly onto your backpack strap as you waited for people to move out of the way—half of the people bitched about who they got, they couldn’t possibly be that bad.

Your heart dropped to your ass as you read your name—Jungkook squished beside you, looking for his name, only to find it where your finger was already on.

You got paired up with Jungkook. What kind of fuckery was this?

As Jungkook read "Y/n Y/ln & Jeon Jungkook," he couldn’t believe his eyes. He almost lost his mind when he realized it was you when he sat next to you, but he tried his best to act unaffected. However, this was too much of a "fuck you" sign from the universe—Jungkook didn’t think he did something so horribly to be rewarded like this.

What the fuck were the odds, and how could he scientifically prove that it’s not the universe trying to mess with him?

Taglist💌— @httpjeonlicious @thekookiedealer @somehowukook @taiwan0618 @gwsjungkookie @seokout @sealuv79 @junecat18 @joonsanswer @letjungcoook7 @skzthinker @ahgasegotarmy116recs @ivygguk (I couldn’t add some idk why😓)

[genderqueerpond]

You know, I think Clara knew about Amy.

Not at first, of course, but Clara grew up with her --- that is, grew up reading Amelia Williams books. And they were precious to her, books she's read many times over the course of her childhood -- how else does she know exactly which chapter holds what in the book she gave Artie? Perhaps she has always felt connected to her, this moderately obscure children's fantasy author, following in the footsteps of E Nesbit; this contemporary (and sometime friend (oh yes!) ) of Edward Eager's; although not nearly as widely known as either of these. Perhaps because of her choice to publish openly under a "woman's name", thus, in the time in which she lived, relegating her books to the inferior realm of "girls' books", despite the more than equal balance of male viewpoint characters.

But Amelia Williams is different from these authors too -- often fantasy, but sometimes more like early science fiction, a barely- recognized pioneer in both genres. Her views were feminist and daring. In so many ways she was ahead of her time, and the innovations she imagined! almost as if she knew what the future would hold.

And if Clara knows and loves her books so well, she can hardly fail to recognize the most frequently repeated character archetype in them. especially after she rereads a few on a subconscious hunch, during that summer after the Maitlands found a permanent nanny and she insisted that before anything else, she go off and fulfill her original travel plans from 101 Places To See. (The Doctor purported to leave her alone to forge her own way with this, but was in actuality very bad at that, and kept popping up nearly every place she went.) She's Clara, she's clever, how can she fail to look up from her book and notice that the person who's just appeared out of nowhere to stand in front of her with a plate of jammie dodgers and a goofy smile has stepped directly out of the pages?

And then of course, there are the dedications. Sure, there's normal stuff like "to my daughter", "to my loving and patient husband", and "to my parents, who are children now" which is rather weird and whimsical, but fits in with the fantasy author's signature style of dream-like imagination.

But the majority of Amelia Williams' dedication pages say things like "to You", "to My Doctor", "to My Raggedy Doctor" "to my raggedy man" (weird but clearly connected to the other variants), and, cryptically, over and over again: "to you", "to you", "to you", "to you (wherever in time and space you are)".

There's "to my imaginary friend" and "to my imaginary friend, and to all children who have an imaginary friend" and "to my imaginary friend, and every child in the universe who's ever met him, or ever will". Nerds and English teachers have occasionally debated what, if anything, she meant by all this, and now Clara thinks she knows, but she can never say....

And then there are the nights that the Doctor wakes up crying out for "Amy!" and then refuses to talk about it when Clara asks, refuses to acknowledge ever even knowing an Amy, "well everyone shouts random things when they're asleep, it doesn't mean anything" and "I don't remember." if pressed for details about his dreaming. And later he might go off somewhere and cry quietly, reading a book he never lets Clara see.

And then he regenerates, and calls out for "Amelia!", "the first face this face saw."

There's newborn twelve, with his Scottish accent, letting her name slip. It's the first - and only - time he's spoken of her while awake and not actively dying. And Clara is too busy with the immediate threat to their lives to think about it in the moment, but at this point she at the very least has a hunch about the connection between him and the Scottish-American author with the rather opaque background --- that as far as anyone can trace it (although to be fair, no one really cares enough to try very hard) she and her husband just kind of appeared out of nowhere in pre-WWII New York. It seems kind of obvious, now, that the doctor would have had a hand in that.

And now with all the books everywhere, the library gradually migrating into the console room, what else is obvious is that he owns every single one of her books. multiple copies, first editions, last editions, signed copies, mass paperbacks, everything. There's a TARDIS key hidden in a well-worn, well-loved, tear streaked copy of The Cuckoo And The Doll's House, which Clara finds when she's cataloging all the locations of TARDIS keys, just in case she should ever need that information one day.

This all is enough for Clara to know. There doesn't really need to be any more proof, but there is. What totally and fully clinches it are the pictures. Tucked in the pages of another tearstained book (The Beast Below this time), are photographs of Amelia, looking just as she does in her black and white author photos, but younger, and in 21st century clothes. Elsewhere, later, she finds photo booth polaroids of a still younger Amelia, goofing off and smiling. Some of them feature another young man Clara doesn't recognize, and some of them feature the Doctor. He's wearing a tweed jacket instead of his purple wool, and no vest, but otherwise he is exactly the same as the Doctor she first met. The three of them hang off each other like old friends, like family.

idk how to end this.

[jayden-killer]

FOR US.

(Loki x fem! Reader)

summary: A friend of Loki knocks at your house door, with the intention to tell you Loki's last words to you.

warnings: SPOILERS FROM LOKI SEASON 2 FINALE, very long one shot, other than that, no more warnings, this is so sad lol.

"On the coast, temperatures will drop sharply, dropping from eleven to four degrees, especially after the sunset. Now, let’s move on to the inner side..."

The weatherman’s voice came from the TV in the living room, but to me, it was distant since I was focused on unpacking the shopping bags on my kitchen island. The cold dyed my cheeks a light purple, although I had access to the heating in the house for a few minutes. A few sunbeams were seeping through the curtains, illuminating my face, and I was checking that you hadn’t forgotten anything from my shopping list. And yet, even though I was busy, there was a small part of me that felt like something bad was going to happen. As if my sixth sense was warning me that something inexplicable was coming. Almost as if it were fate to give me the answer rang the bell at my front door. I picked up the remote next to me of the TV, turned it off, and gently left it on the couch, then went to open it to whoever was behind my door. The moment you opened it, a gentleman appeared to me to be middle-aged, with grizzled hair and a short moustache. Despite his rather well-groomed appearance, the lines on his face were noticeable, showing his age. And he definitely had tired eyes. I looked at him reluctantly, waiting for him to talk; actually, I did it first. "Hi? Can I... do something for you?"

He breathed in air and glanced at me, not with disgust but rather with curiosity. He asked if my name was what he actually knew, which was later confirmed by me. Then he answered with a half-forced smile and a subtle voice: "I’m sorry if I show up here, out of nowhere, without even introducing myself. Call me Mobius," he clarified, giving me a handshake."I am here for a specific reason. It's forLoki".

My heart sank when I heard Loki’s name spoken. It couldn’t be good. Loki would have come in person if it was important.

Why wasn’t he there?

Why was there this Mobius instead?

Did Loki pull one of his tricks again and caused more chaos than he did in the past?

Once again, my sixth sense did not betray me.

~

"Tea?"

"Oh, no, thank you".

"Not even a piece of cake? It’s fresh, I bought it just this morning".

"I can not say no to such a good piece of cake. I gladly accept." Mobius' laugh was short, but it was effective in bringing back a smile on that concerned face that I had shown since he told me he was here with precise intentions. Now, he was sitting in my living room, on the leather sofa that Loki himself adored, since his butt never wanted to leave it. "So..." I began the conversation, handing the strawberry cake plate to Mobius, who thanked me with a silent thank you. He took a bite of it and showed with pleasure that the dessert was good. I sat in front of him, rubbing the sweaty palms of my hands on my jeans. One of my legs bounced back and forth, clearly anxious. "You said it was about Loki. What’s going on?"

Mobius cleared his voice, placing next to him the dish of cake now devoured, and assumed a different expression; he seemed tense, as if finding the words for what he was going to tell me was the most complicated thing in the world. I bit my lip. The wait was slowly killing me inside.

"Loki... well, he..." He breathed, looking down. "You know what he was doing at TVA?"

"Yes" My answer was hasty. I needed to know what had happened to my partner.

"What about his past?"

"I know everything. What happened? Why isn’t he here, Mobius?"

He took a very deep breath, and closed his eyes slightly, looking away. He placed a hand on the inside of his jacket, pulling a paper bag from an inner pocket. He handed it to me, and I immediately noticed the details: the recipient and the sender were written with, surely, an handwriting well taken care of; of course the ink was a fountain pen, because no one else would recognize that writing so elegant. It was Loki’s. A letter from Loki. And judging by the content, there was also an object inside it.

"What does that mean?" I didn’t want Loki to leave me. Not again. My voice cracked in pain, and I felt a tingle in my eyes. Mobius took my hand, holding it tightly. As if to say that he was there to console me, but that the worst was yet to come.

"Loki is...he is now 'He who remains'. The one who watches over time. On all the timelines of all time. He is...like a new time keeper".

The pieces of the puzzle were slowly coming together and everything seemed clearer when he confessed to me. My gaze wavered from the envelope to Mobius' broken face. He sympathized me, it was clear, but how could you not pity a lover who had definitely lost, this time, his other half.

"He holds all the time lines together. His role is extremely important, because if it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t...you wouldn’t be here." I looked at him with tears in my eyes. His breathing was accelerating. He hadn’t finished. There was something else he had to reveal to me.

"Before he sacrificed himself for the sake of time, for his friends, for you... he told me to give you this." His gaze fell on the letter. "Then he closed the underground doors leading to the tunnel, and looked at me and Sylvie."

"Sylvie..." The name reminded me of someone he previously told me about. "Her other variant, right?"

He nodded. "He told us that now he knew who he would become. What God would he be. And he thanked you for taking care of him when he was still a dangerous man, a threat to others." He paused briefly. Even his voice seemed to waver for a second. " That’s it. And he disappeared in the next few minutes."

How much information in one speech.

How many things I would have to process in my mind before I accepted the harsh and harsh truth.

How many thoughts buzzed in my head as a result of that shocking revelation.

It was like a truck hitting you in the chest, throwing your powerless body into the road.

"He won't come back anymore, will he?"

Mobius never stopped holding my hand for a moment, holding it even tighter in his rough palm. He understood that he too had a strong hope of Loki’s return. Surely he had been a close friend of his, one who had been close to him all along. So why didn’t he tell me about it before?

However, his silence mk was from confirmation: he wanted, as much as me, his return, but how many were high hopes?

Would it have happened that, one day, a morning like this, he would have appeared at the door of my house, he would have knelt down and embraced me grieving?

How many years from now?

"We don’t know for sure." That sentence brought me up. I dried with my fist closed the tears that threatened to flow from my eyes, as a child does when she feels that maybe her mother would never return to her. I couldn’t stand the idea that I wouldn’t have Loki around me anymore.

Without adding any more, Mobius let go of my hand, standing up and glancing at the letter I held in my other palm. It was a silent way of saying he would give me some privacy to read the letter. So, he walked to the kitchen, bringing with him the plate with the leftover cake.

My hands were shaking. I didn’t have the courage to see what was inside. I was hoping it was another one of his planned pranks. Maybe confetti and a snake would come out, and he would hiss and say, "I fooled you again!"

I tore the opening of the envelope very gently and put a flickering hand inside. I had a cold feeling. Something hard and small was inside. It was..

"A ring.."

A beautiful silver ring.

Tears immediately came back to me. The small object landed in the palm of my hand, the hiccups made its way into my throat, and I squeezed it tightly against my chest. I couldn’t do it.

This was too much for my weak heart.

Was that the real pain?

Was that how you felt?

I still had to read his letter. I didn’t mentally have the strength to do it. It required a huge effort. Only some time later I had the courage to open that letter that was delivered to me by Mobius.

☆

A/N: NOW, my fellow readers, would you like to know what Loki has written in that letter ✉️? Because I've assured you, it's gonna be much sad than this one short.👀

[scekrex]

Adam wasn’t killed like everyone thought. Lucifer’s son aka Charlie’s little brother m!reader took him in and healed him. Charlie lets the new sinner Adam stay in the hotel after her brother begged since she loves her sweet brother so much. Adam never seen a demon so hot and falls for the reader. They’ve been secretly messing around and Luci ends up walking in on them.

Okay to clarify: Charlie in this fic is over 200 years old - reader is one year younger than her. Which makes him way younger than Adam is but I assume almost every person this man has fucked with in heaven is way younger than him

Part 2

And when his edges soften, his body is my coffin

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, sexual tension

note: not beta read bc fuck you

You knelt next to the tall angel, your hands kept pressing the shirt you had been wearing moments ago tightly against his wounds while the golden blood that had already formed a puddle around the first man stained your pants - not that you really cared. Your focus was on the dying soul in front of you. Yes Adam had been awful, yes Adam deserved to die, but on the other hand it simply didn’t sit right with you to let him die that easily, for you it felt purely wrong to give up on his tainted soul without even trying. And just as you were about to cry out for help in panic, Adam started to breathe.

Your big sister, your father and their friends had worked quite hard to rebuild the hotel and just as the last light of it flickered to life, Adam took his first breath. “Y/N?” Lucifer’s voice called out for his youngest son right before he spotted you kneeling next to Adam. With slow, heavy steps he walked over to you and the first man, suspiciously eyeing what you were doing but when the king of Hell saw how the brunette’s chest visibly pumped blood and air through his body, he looked quite shocked. “Dad, he’s alive,” your voice sounded happy, excited even and yet so broken - Lucifer didn’t move, he just stood there and watched. “We have to take him in, dad, he’s wounded.” The blonde king shook his head violently, snapping out of his haze as he processed your words slowly, then he shook his head in a softer manner - this time he used it to respond to what you’ve just said, “Nuh, no~no~no~oh, we’re not taking him in.”

Charlie appeared behind the king of Hell, your older sister - she was only one year older than you - put down a gentle hand on his shoulder, “But dad, he’s a human souls just like the other residents and as much as I hate the thought of living with him, the concept of this hotel is all about redemption, maybe Adam can redeem himself too.” And while Lucifer didn’t admit it out loud, he knew his children were right, a defeated sigh left his body and he lowered his head. The blonde was not willing to put up a fight with either you nor Charlie so he simply gave in. He always had the option to kick the first man out if he would not be willing to redeem his soul after all.

-

It had taken Adam a while to regain his strength, it had taken him even longer to accept that his angels had left him and that he was doomed to rot in Hell - though he kept telling you and the other residents that soon Sera would look for him and send Lute. But Sera never mentioned Adam in any of the meetings she held with Lucifer and Lute had not been back to Hell ever since she thought she had seen her best friend die. Not even during extermination day. But on the other hand that had forced the first man to get used to his new environment and while Vaggie was just as amused to have the brunette roaming their halls as Lucifer, Angel seemed to actually enjoy the first man’s company - even though most of their conversations were about the bitches Adam had slept with in heaven.

But you were without a doubt the demon he got along with the best, not only did you like the music he was playing, you also seemed to understand him without ever going through something similar, yet the two of you connected. The bond between you and Adam had grown strong, so strong that the brunette had you pressed against your bedroom wall, kissing your lips over and over again as his wings framed your sides - a habit he had picked up in Heaven to prevent people from staring. His lips didn’t remain on your lips though, he was eager to shower your entire body in kisses and he was determined to keep going until that goal was reached.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, gently nudging Adam to signal the former angel to give you some space. “Lemme just-” you grumbled as you took off your shirt, throwing it somewhere where it wouldn’t bother you and as soon as the soft fabric was no longer covering your skin, the brunette was on you in an instant, his hot mouth was mapping out your body like it was the most beautiful thing he ever touched, his tongue circled your nipple. And then a loud banging noise appeared right behind him and when you peeked over Adam’s shoulder you froze. Your father was standing in the door frame, just as shocked as you were. “Adam,” you mumbled quietly, trying to get the taller male to notice the king of Hell. But the angel shielding your body from your father’s eyes simply grinned against your skin as he responded, “Why don’t you moan louder for me, babes?”

Lucifer cleared his throat quite loudly and it was just then and there that Adam noticed the blonde king. His body stopped moving immediately and he just stared at you with a blank expression on his face. When a small hand reached for his upper arm to spin the angel around, Adam was sure he was gonna die - there was simply no way Lucifer would let that slide.

As soon as Adam looked down on the king, he awkwardly grinned down on the blonde, trying to charm his way out of the situation - not that his bullshit worked on Lucifer and before he knew it Lucifer’s fist collided with his face.

[nomoreusername]

The Fandom Versions of TMR Characters

The TMR fandom is amazing. It has a significant number of great people. It has some very talented editors and writers.

However, like every fandom with a good following, it has its issues. One of its worst ones is honestly one of the most obnoxious things one can have in my opinion.

It has awful mischaracterization. It's less of completely changing a character's personality and more of going off one trait and making that all that they are.

It feels like Thomas gets portrayed as an idiot who only asks questions or doesn't ever listen to anyone. He also gets called overrated even though he's the main character of the series.

We first get introduced to him when he's a Greenie with no memory (except for his name in the books). Of course he’s going to want to know what is happening to him. The Glader's start out revealing very little to not intimidate the Greenie's which has to be frustrating. While it is clear he wants to figure almost everything out throughout the series, that's a very human trait. He’s also definitely not stupid. WCKD/WICKED picked him to work with them because they saw something in him. He is incredibly intelligent and quick on his feet. A lot of the time, he’s given no notice to make a decision. He just has to make it. Whether it's running into the Maze to save Minho and Alby, having to decide whether or not to go through with Newt’s note, or going back to the place that started all the pain and torture, he wasn't truly given time to prepare for such important and life-changing decisions. Despite this, he always did his best to make them.

Newt probably has the worst fanbase. I love him as a character. He’s been through so much and is still doing his best to keep everyone in line and afloat which is extremely admirable.

The problem is that people water his character down. They’ll treat him as though he isn't a Second-in-command, the second longest surviving Glader, a suicide survivor, and resilient to the most dangerous situations.

Newt is not someone who would need protection. If anything, he was a protector. He would have to do things such as banish Gladers (his friends), to protect the other ones. He was a Runner before he got a limp. He stood up to Thomas in the movies when he thought he was just being paranoid, showing that even though he does love his friends, he isn't afraid to confront them if he thinks they are wrong. The way he still remains loyal to the people he loves when he does though, is another trait that deserves more acknowledgement. He went out of his way in the movies to hide that he was slowly dying in front of everyone’s eyes and losing his mind just for Minho. He never expected to make it but didn't care. In the books, he lied to his friends about being taken to protect them from himself. He’s so strong, self aware and beautifully written.

Minho is sarcastic and does have witty comebacks. However, he’s so much more than that.

He was the Keeper of the Runners. For around three years he was not only doing the most deadly job, but training others to do it as well. He wasn't allowed to have fear or be weak in the Maze. Not when the cost would have been his life. Something more complex about him is the way he covers up his actual emotions. During Chuck's death in the movies everyone else is allowing their tears to fall. However, he closed his eyes so he wouldn't cry. Whether it's because he doesn't want to cry in front of people or just doesn't want to cry is uncertain, but both are painful to think about. Another thing about him is very subtle character development. When he first gets caught in the Maze, not only does he give up at first, he at one point leaves Thomas and Alby behind, showing his intense desperation to live despite him wanting to stay realistic. In the last two movies we don't see any other instances of him being willing to accept defeat or leaving others behind. While he may have been given the tag ‘the leader' it isn't something that could ever or should ever be denied about him.

His bond with Newt is also something that honestly deserves more recognition. From the way he dropped to his knees in the movies to how Thomas didn't tell him how he really died due to how much the two cared for each other, they are nothing less than platonic soulmates.

Gally gets a lot of hate. He’s seen as angry and ‘that character who killed Chuck’. In a lot of ways though, I think he's one of the most logical, relatable, and realistic characters.

While some people think he just randomly hated Thomas and Teresa, that's not at all true. In the movies, he seems civilized with him when they first meet. While his action of shoving him before he could go into the Maze may have seemed performative, the fear was most likely needed for Thomas to grasp the gravity of the situation. He can also be seen shaking hands with Thomas in Greenie night after the fight. In the books, he went through the changing. He was stung so he got some of his memories back the way Alby did. He told Thomas that he recognized him from those which was why he was suspicious towards him. His concerns were valid. Everything did change after Thomas and Teresa, and a lot of Gladers ended up dead. At one point, they had both worked for WICKED/WCKD. Something was up with them, the exact way he said there was. If someone came to my home and changed everything I knew I wouldn't trust them either. He cared for the Gladers and wanted the people he lived with for years to stay safe and be alive. He didn't want to just kill Teresa and Thomas. He wanted things to go back to how they were in a sense. He was afraid of leaving his home. He was afraid of change, the way so many people are.

He didn't kill Chuck. He would never hurt Chuck. In the books, WICKED had both him and Chuck under their control. In the movies, he was stung, meaning his actions did not belong to him. Even then, he was not aiming for the sweet kid. He was aiming for Thomas, who in his mind at the time, was one of the ones who had started him and his friends years of pain and suffering.

Movie Aris is my favorite. He is very sweet but the way people will describe him as innocent is wrong.

I do consider him and book Aris two different characters. So for now, this is strictly about him in the movies.

He’s seen alone when we first meet him. His friends are gone, and people are talking about him like a circus animal so it makes sense why he wouldn't want to be around anyone. He’s generally quieter than a lot of the main characters so he can get mistaken for just a background character. However, he literally got everyone out of WCKD. He never got any recognition for saving them, but he still did. When he does open his side of the door for everyone to get out there is at least one unconscious, previously armed guard on the ground, with his weapon now being held in his hand. This shows that he is capable of taking care of himself despite his at first glance passive demeanor. He knows to break the control pad to buy everyone time and books it. What must be less than an hour later, he’s helping take down Cranks with a single bat, also showing quick thinking from the way he knows to trip them so they could focus on getting away. Not to mention, he’s doing all of this after finding out his friend (and possible lover) is going to die. On a lighter note, we see his face light up and how much he talks with Sonya and Harriet when they all meet again, showing that he's not afraid of speaking to others. He just has a few and specific group of people he feels comfortable actually talking with, which is literally just being an introvert.

All of those are why he is not innocent or in need of saving. He knows how to look after himself and others.

That's just the basics of The Maze Runner fandom's mischaracterization problem.

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow part 38

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 35, part 36, part 37

“Can I ask you for a favor,” Dustin asks while Nancy is driving him home.

Nancy hums. Waiting for him to continue.

“Can you tell me when Steve gets migraines?” A pause. “Well, maybe not every migraine because I know he gets little ones all the time. But the big ones. I’d like to know when he gets the big ones.”

Nancy doesn’t say anything, just flips her blinker and turns down the next street. “Why are you asking me?”

Dustin sighs. “Because I know you know about them. You and Steve are friends again, and this morning you seemed like you knew when they happened. And I never do. He never tells me, and Robin just ignores when I ask. I don’t think it’s that big of a deal that I want to know.”

“And you want to know, why? He’s gotten them for years now.”

Another sigh. He’s tired of explaining why he wants to know things about his friends. “I know. I’ve wanted to know for years. But he always said it wasn’t my thing to deal with. But it is. He’s my friend and I want to know what’s going on with him. And if I could just-.”

Stop hurting him more. That’s what he almost said. Because it was true. Dustin makes plans all the time. Normally including Steve either as a ride, or to be there. It would be a lot easier for all of them if he could just plan those things around “the big one.” That way, Steve doesn’t feel left out, and they didn’t get upset when he didn’t show.

It would make everyone feel better. Everyone feel included. Everyone feel listened to.

It just made sense.

Nancy pulls the car to a stop at the stop sign on his street corner. “You know you can’t fix it. Tracking it can be helpful, but it won’t fix anything.”

“I know.” If he could fix it, he would. “I just feel so out of the loop and then I get to today, and Steve looks-. Like he’s dying,” he says with a shallow breath. “I’ve seen him like that too many times.”

A car honks behind them. Nancy swearing under her breath and finally turning down his street.

Dustin’s seen Steve near the brink of death too many times. Seen him get beaten up right in front of him, where he couldn’t even stop it. Billy knocked him unconscious and just kept going. If Max hadn’t hit him with the sedative, Dustin’s not sure what would have happened.

Then there was the Russians. Which he didn’t see directly, but he knew. Steve’s face was any indicator of that. The way the tips of his hair were caked with his own blood. How him and Robin were drugged. All for protecting him and Erica.

At the hospital, when Steve dropped in front of him. Blood polling through his clothes and onto the floor. Face becoming white as his eyes fluttered shut.

Dustin was tired of it. He was tired of seeing the person he cared to much about get hurt. Get so close to death that the light died a bit in his eyes. Never fully returning. Part of him just gone.

Nancy pulls to a stop outside his house. Putting the car in park and reaching across the center consol. Pulling Dustin into a hug.

“He’s not going anywhere.” She says it like a fact, but Dustin can’t fully be sure.

Maybe if his mind would stop twisting everything all the time. Just look at the positives and see how all of them are still standing. But all he can see are the scars that are left. Knowing the pain that made them, and how they will forever be marked by it.

Sometimes, when Dustin closes his eyes, all he can see is red. Deep blood red. Pouring out of every orifice, covering up the faces he loves. Pulling them down and away. Leaving Dustin stranded and alone.

It’s not real. He knows that. But the fear still consumes him. Dustin acts confident. Like he knows the answer to everything. Like he could fix it if he tried hard enough. Deep down, he’s just afraid. A terrified kid.

He can’t predict the unpredictable. That the most terrifying things he’s ever known.

“Hey,” Nancy pulls him back out of his head. Her hands holding him steady. “He’s not going anywhere.”

A tear rolls down his cheek. Forming without permission. Showing the pain that hides beneath. But her words sound like a promise. One that Dustin wants to keep.

“None of us,” she continues. “None of us are going anywhere.”

Maybe he could finally start believing that. If he tried hard enough. He could finally believe that.

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

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@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[byjovewhataspend]

Putting on his best outfit to cheer himself up-- it's not really working :(

rambling thoughts about the new manga stuff below

It feels so WILDLY incorrect tonally for none of the villains to be saved. So many people told deku he couldnt save shigaraki and he pushed back against that-- but from any outside view shigaraki dying is the same as Deku killing him, i dont accept 'his ghost smiled so he was saved', afo shattered shigarakis mind the second Tomura's heart wavered and he died instantly (nana saved a little bit of his soul long enough for him to hang out and punch AFO, that had nothing to do with deku)

but the last thing he said before AFO killed him was 'i have to be the hero to the villains' and the last thing he said to deku was essentially 'tell spinner i did was i promised'

but before both of those points almost the entire league (sans compress) is already dead (spinner seems braindead? though the next chapter had people messing with what looked to be his scales so maybe someones working on helping him) so Deku cant tell them anything.

ANYWAYS my 5% hope here, a way to walk this shit back, is that Tomuras quirk 'which used to have a regeneration aspect' regenerated itself and Tomura comes back and Deku gets a second chance to save him for real this time, and then tomura uses the regeneration aspect of his quirk to fix all the rest of the league. he can return Spinner to his old self, and Dabi has GOT to be in that tank in front of Endeavor, right?

(What else in the world does Endeavor have to care about right now except for his family? none of them (or hawks, his only friend) needed a healing tank, so im guessing Dabis horrific husk is in some stasis goo with no hope , spinner is brainded/insane with no hope, toga is probably 'disappeared on the battle field' or maybe in a coma with no hope.. )

((honestly that tank, them not telling us yet if anyones dead (it would be weird to REVEAL people died who we thoughts died on screen a year ago) and the weirdly timed 'tomura couldve been able to regenerate but i removed that' a second before he died are the only reasons i have any hope. im not the hoping type. a series i was interested in ending badly has never been Taken Back before))

i dont know if That Person is Tomura (it didnt LOOK like him, not at all, honestly they looked like a woman to me, but who the fuck knows when they are doing Anime Crazy Face) but it feels like the only way to walk any of this back.

They put so much emotional stuff onto tomura and then gave him the worlds clearest 'he never had any choice to be this way' backstory EVER (even his BIRTH was arranged by AFO thats so fucked up, i wouldnt be shocked if he bought him the dog he killed too) that the ONLY doubt i had that Deku would save him was in that i wasn't sure how youd arrange to keep him out of prison for life. Id been guessing 'rewound to childhood to get a second chance at a better one' (not great but hey, it beats dead or tartaras and it matches that opening i liked) but hey, if hes Confirmed Dead and Deku finds someone Similiar To Him but with Fixing Powers and is liek 'hey everyone this is my brother Tenko my american dad just brought him over isnt that great?' id fucking take it

ALSO plucking Eris horn off so that she wasnt an option anymore like.. from a writing standpoint feels like it has to be FOR something.

Finally: deku looked SO depressed in the most recent chapter. he looked miserable. he hardly spoke a fucking word. considering how he acted about Eri i cant imagine hes the type to be like 'whelp, failed to save those people, i guess ill save a random different person in the final arc and thatll help me get over it'. truly i think if deku to failed to save tomura he'd spend the rest of his life not feeling like a real hero. especially when he checks to complete tomuras wish and spinner cant get his final words? and togas final words to deku was that she liked him and then he ran off and she died?? just. no. it feels so tragic and dark.

i do NOT believe horikoshi has that much creative control, honestly, i feel like if he had complete control he wouldnt kill tomura (since hes written a Tenko into like all his other stories and he loves him) but a small glimmer of hope is Dabi getting fuckign 4th place in the popularity results after he'd already become the most dead looking fucker i have ever seen. SURELY management knows hes popular and would be open to them being saved and redeemed just for BRANDING purposes, right?

PS: everyones been joking but he horikoshi SAID we'd see dekus FUCKING DAD. what possible purpose could that man serve when he wasnt even watching deku lose his arms on international tv?? if its as a cover for bringing tomura back ill fucking take it.

[j0kers-light]

Okay that head canon about y/n getting sick and J worrying over her was precious 🥹 What if the tables were turned and J got bad sick and refused to take care of himself?

-🍄

My beloved 🍄 anon!! How I have missed you!

You stay providing me with amazing ideas! sick!reader was fun to write! So let’s explore a sick!Joker! This big baby… I’m gonna have fun with this one. 🖤✨as always enjoy enjoy!!

Joker does not get sick. He is far too busy to be bogged down with such a trivial thing as germs. Who do they think they are anyway?

Sure he's not superhuman but you would think all that time spent messing with chemicals and stuff would make him immune?

NOPE! Baby boy gets hit with the common cold and he’s out for weeks. It’s almost funny if not for the fact that Joker fighting for his life.

If only Batman knew a common cold could have J waving a white flag. 🥴

Unlike you Joker accepts rather quickly that he's sick and needs to sit his butt down somewhere.

That doesn't mean that decision is instantaneous. He ignores minor symptoms too. 🙄🙄

Like an itchy throat, watery eyes, a splitting headache. HE'S FINE. Joker powers through as if nothing is wrong. �� (sound familiar?)

Frost is the first to raise an eyebrow as the days progress and Joker doesn’t improve. He hints that J might be coming down with something only to be ignored. Frost tried to warn him.. 🤦🏾‍♀️

Just imagine Joker hosting a meeting like mid theatric speech and suddenly.. he sneezes.

Mac secretly took a video to send to you later because Joker looked too cute!

Joker and just about everyone in attendance was shocked at the comical (and adorable) sneeze that comes out this scary man.

👁️ 👄 👁️ them goons were shooketh girl lol

Joker threatens to murder anyone if they laugh but a snicker does escape when J sneezes again and almost bangs his head against the table (I'm fighting back tears anon! 🤣)

One glance at Frost has the meeting adjourned because they gotta drop Joker off at your place. He can't terrorize Gotham City like this!

That poor baby is a mess! Joker is sweating through his greasepaint, his nose is running like Usain Bolt, and he swears that Bane is punching him in the head. 😀 yup he’s sick.

It's time to go when Joker passes out in front of Frost, Mac, and Neo after one sneeze too many.

There's only one person they trust to look after Joker. Are you up for the challenge?

Frost is a big guy, but even he is struggling to carry Joker into your apartment. He called earlier explaining that Joker wasn't feeling too well so you left the front door unlocked.

You thought that meant Joker got hurt while out being a menace to society. That you could deal with. Some bandaids and a proper scolding, always did the trick.

You weren’t expecting Frost to dump your semi-unconscious lover onto your couch like a sack of potatoes. Joker looks almost unrecognizable and you fear the worst seeing how weak he is.

His hooded eyes take you in and a groggy, "Bunny.... I'm dying!" escapes his lips before you lock eyes with Frost.

"He has a cold."

😀 Lawd help us. If you thought Joker was a drama queen before Chile.. This grown man acts like a child staying home from school with pneumonia rather than a cold.

J has transformed himself into a blanket burrito with only his freckled face exposed. And he look so pitiful.

He can't breathe out of his nose anymore which has turned scarlet red since he doesn't use the tissues you bought him, (you yell at him to stop using his sleeves!) and he takes random naps as his immune system tries to fight off this infection. It’s doing a terrible job.

A common cold last a few days at most. A full week and a half later, and Joker is still in the trenches.

This is when you start to worry and take his illness more seriously.

Feed a cold, starve a fever so you work overtime to nurse your man back to health. You prepare the best homemade soups, arrange all the tv marathons J could ever want, you even sneak him medicine with tried and true motherly tactics.

J refused to take medicine so you cave and buy him jello, applesauce, pudding etc. as a compromise.

Little does he know, you crushed the pills inside 🤫 In short, you watch over Joker like a hawk.

He orders you to stay away stating, 'he doesn't want his Bunny getting sick' but in the same breath, he makes you cuddle with him on the couch. J falls asleep using you as his personal teddy bear and you are totally okay with that.

Anything to help him sleep and recover faster.

The worst phase comes along when you wrestle out of Joker’s arms to grab the thermometer, and his voice stops you in your tracks.

"Ma? Is... is that you?"

Joker is delirious and you shouldn't take advantage of him when he's so out of it but what's the harm in feeding into his delulu? Its not like he'll remember anyway..

You weakly smile and reply. "Hush baby, I'll be right back."

J begins another coughing fit and has air remaining to steal yours with a single sentence. "No, I don't wanna be alone."

He sounds so weak, like a child confessing their worst fears to an adult. What kind of person can ignore a plea like that? You can't that’s for sure.

You’ll check his temperature later. Right now, Joker needs you. You crawl back into Joker's arms and he immediately wraps them around you.

"Don't... l-leave." His voice is breaking your heart, he sounds so scared!

You smooth J’s hair away to cup his face. You washed away all the harsh makeup and sweat days ago so you’re free to admire his natural beauty in all its glory.

Even fighting a cold, he's so handsome looking up at you with those glassy eyes of his. You doubt he recognizes you right now. Only you are allowed to see Joker so vulnerable.

Only you can take care of him and it’s an honor you’ll never take for granted.

"I’m not going anywhere." You promise.

[mikareo]

⌗ sanguine ₊ ˖ ་. suguru geto x fem reader (1.0k)

genre . . hanahaki au, reader loves someone else, angst, geto is delulu for u u, rejection, almost kiss, implied death, sad summary . . gojo satoru has everything geto suguru has ever wanted, including you. note . . a quick rewrite of an old hanahaki hq fic from 2021. gojo will never love u on my blog sorry

Ethereal. Something almost too perfect for this world. A gem that can’t be found even in the deepest of pits, cascading to the bottom of the ocean with nothing but a gleaming sparkle to mark its beauty— beneath mossy ravines and treacherous tunnels, lost in a sea of mystery and unresolved feelings. Feelings that are the single driving force for everything he lives for. Feelings that make his heart skip two beats faster, creating a love song that he wishes he could sing out loud. They’re everything he could ever wish for and want in a partner…in a soulmate. 

That’s what Suguru considers you to be. His soulmate. 

You’re an absolutely, breathtakingly, physical embodiment of perfection in his mind. The most perfect woman in the world is nothing but dust in comparison as there’s simply no one else like you. No one that even so much as nears the level of adoration that he holds you at in his heart; which is all the more reason for the throbbing pain the organ feels. With his blood pumping and heart racing, he’s dying.

“I’m so sorry, Suguru.” He wishes you’d stop biting your lip so hard. He knows apologies are difficult, practically impossible, but your lips are bleeding from how hard you’re holding back tears. “I wish I could love you. I want to love you, but I just can’t.” 

With a shaky voice, you confirm his worst fears. “I’ll always love Satoru most.”

Oh, Satoru. There's just one person in the world that Suguru has never been able to surpass and it's his best friend. His closest confidant who's outgoing, handsome, charismatic, and everything the lesser man wishes he could be. Yes, they haven't spoken in months— not since their infamous stand off outside of their former lunch spot— but Satoru is the only person who knows about Suguru's condition. Hanahaki.

He was diagnosed with the disease when he was fifteen years old...the day after he met you.

The first sign was an innocent red petal, resembling that of a spider lily. Thin and scarlet with an enigmatic beauty that reminded him so much of you. He wanted to cherish the flower, encase it in resin to freeze that beautiful moment in time so he could give it to you, and show you just how much he values you. However, that moment wasn't beautiful. It was the start of the end of his life. A life filled with resentment and jealously that would only grow into a field of flowers settling in the pit of his stomach— with thorns and weeds he can feel but not see.

Yes. Technically you're the one to blame for his fatal condition, but Geto can't acknowledge that. To him, you can do no wrong. You're perfect just as you are, flaws and all. He believes he knows you best out of anyone in the world, and he can't understand why you'd choose Satoru over him. Satoru doesn't care about you! He's never cared about you! Why can't you see what's right in front of you? Geto is right here. He's here and he wants to hug you and make everything better; yet he can't...because while he's crying over you, you're crying over Gojo.

"I can make you happy, I promise!" He's desperate, now. "I know I'm not him, but I can be better!"

You shake your head, coughing briefly before smiling at him with blood-stained teeth. What? "We're too similar, Suguru." Why are you bleeding? What's going on? "Neither of us want to give up."

Slowly, your fingers release the fist you've been holding for the past few minutes, revealing a pile of small blue petals. A shade of blue that Geto is all too familiar with, having stared at the color for a majority of his teenage years in his best friend's eyes. It's a color that most associate with hope and prosperity��� not knowing that it's also directly associated with your inevitable death.

Gojo Satoru is the most powerful man in the world; and you're the most powerless woman for loving him.

He feels himself crawling towards you, ignoring the piles of bloodied petals decaying on your bedroom floor, and ever-so-gently touches your cheek. Geto wishes he could wipe your tears and never see you cry again. Someone so beautiful shouldn't feel sadness. It isn't right.

"I love you." he whispers, gaze settled on your scarlet lips.

Say it back.

"Please." he leans in closer.

Just let him show you how perfect you are.

"I would never hurt you."

Your lips are almost on his...

...and suddenly they're gone.

"This isn't what I want!" His heart breaks in two at the sound of your cry. It isn't Gojo that's making you miserable, right now it's him. Geto, himself, is the cause of your pain and if he could he'd rip his own mouth off to get him to stop talking he would. "Suguru, I don't want you. Please understand!"

You continue sobbing and Geto can't stop the flow of tears no matter how hard he tries. "I wish I loved you, I want to so badly, but it's always going to be Satoru!"

His stare is so focused that he can see the budding blossoms at the back of your throat, threatening to grow and shrivel up your heart with their thorns. The pain that you feel every day is likely unbearable, as if your entire body is being ripped in two due to the utter devastation of pure heartbreak. Geto would know. He feels it every day, too. He's felt it every day for the last two years of knowing you and he's surprised that he hasn't succumbed to the garden already. Just wither and die. Please just go away! His pleas are so loud, overtaking his every thought, that he doesn't know if he's wishing away the spider lilies or himself.

"If it's always him," his chest feels heavy; it's almost an all-consuming fire using his blood as oil, "then we both know what's going to happen to us."

You nod, whimpering slightly as you bite back your tears.

He can't believe this is how it's all ending.

Somehow, his head finds its resting place against yours.

He was so confident you'd be able to feel the same.

The vines crawl to his tongue, attempting to snare and take hold of his ability to speak— but not before he can utter his last words.

It shouldn't have been this way.

"I love you."

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[sharper-than-a-serpents-tooth]

The Imperial Palace is filled with incompetent people. It has a serious security problem because why do the knights who are supposed to guard the palace let unauthorized people in, flirt with the maids and sleep on duty? The only competent knight is constantly overworked and never sees vocation days.

The maids neglect children, they bully guests, they disrespect their master's privacy, they steal. Why do the guards do no bag inspections before the staff enters and after the staff leaves the palace? Especially when Lilian noticed that things went missing. Athy could just go to the pantry and steal chocolates (imagine how easily an assassin could get in and poison the food). Claude only switches Athy's old maids with new ones, he never kicks them out. Even when Athy became a person of importance to the Emperor no one investigated who stole the jewelry from the Ruby Palace and cared enough to punish the culprit and retrieve the treasures.

Athy as a toddler managed to sneak out of the Ruby Palace unnoticed and stumbled into Claude, no knight in sight. During one of Athy's tea parties the same happened to Jennette and she got the blame for it. Lucas reprimanted some guards when they let Ijekiel in Athy's private library but it still keeps happening constantly. No one checked the identity of Roger's attendant. There are no knights positioned in front of Roger and Anastacius's rooms when they were under house arrest, the prison guards only noticed Anastacius' was almost dying when Jennette was visiting them. Lord Redford made it to the place where the Emperor was resting and almost attacked the princess. The knights have no idea what's going on most of the time and are either absent where they should have been, arrive too late or do the wrong things.

The servants' incompetency reflects Claude's incompetency as a ruler. The extras who are servants fall generally in two categories. 1. Those who are neglectful of Athy and harm/endanger her indirectly until she acts cute and they start spoiling her 2. those who are unfit for their position because they were badly instructed (the guards, Athy's nannies who have no experience in child raising).

Claude trusts no one, he does everything himself and relies only on Felix as his right hand man. As a result of this both of them are overworked and the others possibly feel underchallenged and this is why they have the time to seek distraction from their pointless jobs.

The number of guards is evidently too small to cover the whole area of the palace ground. They don't hear or see it when something happens and when they do, they need too much time to arrive on time. Sometimes they even ignore it when they see something suspicious and don't make an effort to find out the cause. A strange blue light appears in the window of the princess but no one is worried that her life might be in danger and checks if she is okay.

The examples of child Athy and Jennette slipping easily through the gaps in security show that they are badly positioned too. It's no wonder Claude faced constantly the threat of assassination in his youth if those people are the ones he picked to guard his life. I suspect they received little to no magical training either (they could not detect an intruder who used magic to turn herself invisible), which is strange considering they live in a world where magic exists. Have they never thought about taking wizard children as knight apprentices? Is Felix an outlier? Were those knights who were also trained wizards wiped out during the dynastic revolution and this is why Claude's knights are not as capable?

Another point of criticism is for me that they receive no information about the situation inside the palace and aren't prepared for who they are against. It doesn't seem like they have tightened the security ever since Anastacius has appeared, which allowed him to escape and even dine with Jennette on Claude's table when he was supposed to be in captivity. But the worst thing is that they are never punished for a mistake that could endanger the lives of multiple people. It's as if Claude doesn't even expect them to do their job. As if they are just decoration. His knights are just another status symbol of the position of the Emperor of Obelia that he inhabits. For someone who loves torturing and murdering people for the crime of getting on his nerves, he seems to turn a blind eye to those who actually break the law and neglect their duty.

Except for the guards who decided to chatter with maids while on duty, nearly everything mentioned has nothing to do with their own personal failure as knights but the failure of their superiors who decided their numbers, groupings, positioning, training and work schedule. Claude does the things he does well, but only if he's alone. Claude is an usurper. He is no ruler. He is no leader. He cannot organize a huge group of people. If he cannot even control the palace, which is basically a miniature version of the outside world, then he can't be expected to lead a nation. Claude makes rules but then he breaks them and lets others break them without facing consequences and yet he punishes others sadistically for breaking rules that were never written.