#they insult you and then they make out about it after

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ⭑.ᐟ A SERENE CELEBRATION, MERRY CHRISTMAS

A younger Bakugou Katsuki had always been certain of his future. At 26, he’d be a man with it all: a nice house, a career as the undisputed Number One Hero, happily married, and maybe, just maybe, a little brat on the way. That was the dream his teenage self clung to—the vision he worked tirelessly to acheive.

At 26, Bakugou stood in the middle of your shared apartment, arms crossed and staring at the half-decorated Christmas tree with a deep scowl. Strings of golden lights glimmered around the tree’s branches, lengths of ribbons are accompanied by shimmering with faux flowers, and ornaments—carefully chosen by you—hung delicately in place.

The problem? The color scheme.

“What’s wrong with red and gold?”

“It’s boring,” Bakugou grumbled. “We do red and gold every year.”

“It’s classic!” you argued, turning to face him fully. “And it matches the rest of the apartment’s decor!”

He narrowed his eyes. He could not believe that he’s having this conversation with you right now.

“We could try something new for once. Like silver and blue.”

You gasped, clutching an ornament like he’d just insulted you personally—even cursed your entire bloodline and ancestors. “Silver and blue? Are you trying to make our tree look like a corporate lobby?”

“It’d look cooler than this,” he shot back, gesturing vaguely at the warm-toned ornaments. “This looks like something out of a cheesy holiday catalog.”

“And what’s wrong with cheesy?” you challenged.

Bakugou opened his mouth, then closed it. He didn’t actually have anything against cheesy—hell, he secretly loved how excited you got during the holidays. But arguing about it? That was part of the fun, if not a branch of his quality time as a love language.

“Whatever,” he muttered, grabbing a red bauble and hanging it perfectly on the tree. “You’re just scared to try something new.”

You laughed, walking over with another ornament to decorate with. “And you’re just scared because I’m right.”

As Bakugou worked to string the lights around the higher branches, you began unpacking the remaining ornaments from your storage box. You pulled out a small, slightly worn ornament in the shape of a star and held it up with a nostalgic smile.

“Do you remember this?”

He glanced down from the tree, frowning at the star in your hand. “Should I?”

No matter how much he tries to remember, he simply couldn’t recall what made this star so special that you had to ask him if he remembers it.

It’s a star, that’s for sure. A faded one at that.

You sighed, clearly unimpressed by his lack of sentimentality. “It’s the first ornament we bought together. Back when we were... what, eighteen?”

Bakugou paused. It had been a spur-of-the-moment purchase during a rare day off from hero training.

You had somehow convinced him to go with you to wander around a Christmas market, bickering over everything from what food stalls to visit to what decorations looked “cool.” You had insisted on the star, and Bakugou—reluctantly—agreed after a heated argument about which shape of star’s better.

“Are you having a flashback monologue right now?”

That brought out a scoff from him. “Fuck no. Just remembered how you were annoying as hell that day,” he muttered.

“And you were so stubborn, god. You kept saying it was pointless to buy an ornament because I didn’t even have a tree back in my dorm.”

“Yeah, and you said, ‘It's not about the tree; it's about the tradition.’ What kinda cheesy crap was that?”

“It's true, though!” you argued, accepting his hand to place the star gently on the tree’s highest branch. “And now, look. We still have it. And now we can buy all the Christmas trees we could ever want.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

As you continued decorating, the sound of your laughter and playful arguments filled the apartment, giving it a cozy home feel. By the time the tree was finished, Bakugou begrudgingly admitted to himself that it didn’t look half bad—even if it was the same colors as last year, though a decent fortune was spent for it to not be too repetitive.

It’s a good thing his work pays well (you split the cost of decorations equally; he just says that his work pays better even if yours is a lot higher than his).

You stepped back, admiring your work with a satisfied smile. “Perfect. Now, onto the Christmas Eve menu. I was thinking we could do something light this year—maybe roasted chicken and a salad?”

Bakugou groaned, collapsing onto the couch. “Salad? On Christmas Eve? No fucking way.”

“What’s wrong with salad?”

“Is your childhood a bland mess to have salad as one of the main foods? It’s boring,” he said, sticking his tongue out at you when you gave him a pointed look. “We should make something warm and filling.”

“Okay, but you’re helping.”

“Since when did I ever leave all the cookin’ to you?”

Now that he’s 26, standing in the modest yet cozy apartment he shares with you, he realizes that dreams don’t always come in the exact shape you imagine.

Sure, he doesn’t have the massive house he once envisioned, but this apartment—filled with laughter, memories, and the faint scent of your favorite candles—is more of a home than anything his younger self could have dreamed up. The framed photos of your milestones, the shelves of books, and even a few of his hero equipment with the tools scattered on his office—it’s all perfect in a way he didn’t know he needed.

And his career? Well, Dynamight isn’t the Number One Hero yet, but he’s close. Close enough that his younger self would sneer but grudgingly admit it’s not bad.

He’s built a solid name for himself, and he’s done it his way. His rank might not be where he wanted it to be at this age, but he’s learned something more valuable than being the best—he’s learned the importance of balance.

The last part of that dream? The wife? He looks toward the kitchen, where you’re humming some off-tune melody, beginning to prepare what Bakugou’s about to cook with for dinner. The sight of you, so comfortable and almost glowing in your shared space, makes his chest tighten.

He must have a heart problem by this point because it comes at him at the most unexpected times whenever he sees you.

No, he doesn’t have a wife yet. But he’s about to change that.

He’s been thinking about it for weeks now.

He’s got the ring—it’s hidden in the drawer under his socks, where he knows you won’t go snooping.

He knows you’ll say yes, but he would be damned if he didn’t admit that it made him a bit nervous. He knows because you look at him the same way he looks at you: like the world would become lighter and easier to conquer as long as you have the other.

But still, he waits.

Not because he’s unsure, but because he wants the timing to be perfect. Not rushed, not forced. He’s learned to be patient over the years.

“Kats, help with cutting the onions, please!”

“Yeah, yeah. Comin’!”

Soon, he’ll drop the question. He’s not in a rush. This is your life together, and it’s not perfect, but it is just right—chaotic, loud, and full of love. And when the time comes, he’ll make sure you know just how much you mean to him.

But you already know that, don’t you?

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[chrissturnsfav]

Following the anon i sent so I was thinking that singer!reader has always struggled with loving her like thighs and stomach or smt but hear me out if you’re comfortable with it maybe some mentions of self harm like

A scenario

So reader and Chris are laying in bed cuddling or some shit and he’s like tracing his fingers up and don on her thighs and he notices her scars orrr

They’re laying and he compliments her and she goes on a rampage of how she’s not and how ugly her stomach is or smt

⋆.˚✮ rapper!chris knows how to make singer!reader feel pretty

tw: mentions of body image issues

you're sat on the edge of the couch in chris' big living room, scrolling through photos on your phone. your gaze lingers a little too long on a paparazzi picture of yourself from last weekend, your legs prominently featured. a familiar wave of self-doubt washes over you, and before you can stop yourself, you mutter under your breath, "fuck, my thighs look huge."

chris, who’s been freestyling under his breath while jotting down lyrics in his notebook across the couch, freezes mid-bar. his head snaps up, and his eyes narrow, like he can’t believe what he just heard.

"hold up, what'd you say ma?"

you glance at him, trying to play it off. "nothing, forget it," you mumble wearily as you shake your head.

"nah, nah, we ain't doin' that." he gets up, his notebook abandoned on the coffee table, and strides over to you. "what’s this bullshit 'bout your thighs?”

you sigh, trying to avoid his gaze, but chris crouches down in front of you, his icy blue eyes locking onto yours.

"they’re just... big," you mumble. "like, bigger than they should be."

chris scoffs like you just insulted his entire existence. "bigger than they should be? mama, stop fuckin' wit me right now."

you try to laugh, but it’s weak. "i’m serious, chris. i see all these girls online with these slim legs, and then there’s me. i just feel...i dunno...out of place, i guess."

he sits beside you, shaking his head, still looking like he’s offended on your thighs’ behalf. "you’re trippin'. hard. have y'seen yourself? like, really looked at y'self? 'cause if y'did," he says, reaching out to lightly squeeze one of your thighs, "you’d know your thighs are perfect. thick, pretty, sexy as hell—are you serious?"

your cheeks heat up, and you roll your eyes, but he’s just getting started.

"y'know what your thighs say to me?” he continues and smirks a bit, leaning in. "they tell me you're perfect, tell me y'got the full package. tell me you’re built like a model, and that i’d be a dumbass not to appreciate you."

you can’t help but laugh at his over-the-top delivery, and he grins, knowing he’s getting through to you as he brushes his fingers lightly over the smooth skin on your thigh.

"listen baby," he starts, using his free hand to gently cup your jaw and turn your face to his, "i know the world tries to tell girls all this bullshit 'bout what they’re supposed to look like, but lemme tell you sum'n real: you are it for me. all o'you. those thighs you’re trippin' over? they’re one of my favorite things 'bout you."

he moves his hand down to your knee, his thumb drawing little circles. "so stop comparin' yourself to edited pictures on the internet, aight? you’re real, 'n you’re beautiful, 'n if anyone’s got a problem wit' that, they can see me 'bout it."

your chest feels lighter, the weight of insecurity lifting under his unwavering gaze and heartfelt words. you smile, finally meeting his eyes.

"okay," you whisper.

"okay?" he teases. "that’s it? after i jus' dropped the most fire compliments of all time?"

you laugh again, swatting his arm. "thank you, chris. really."

"'course," he says, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. "now stop geekin', i gotta go write a verse 'bout how my girl’s got the finest thighs in the game."

you roll your eyes, but your smile lingers long after he’s returned to his notebook on the other side of the couch.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: i'm not comfortable writing about self harm, so i hope this was good!

thank you for reading!! <3

tags: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @swagalicious260 , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott

@chrissturnsfav ™

[serene555]

Quit tending to your little flowers and pay attention to him, will you?

Many believed Sukuna was incapable of love—and honestly, so did he. He was a sadistic monster, a hedonist who thrived on chaos and slaughter. The King of Curses needed no one but himself, and as for romance? He scoffed at the mere idea. Love was an illusion for the weak, a pathetic attempt to make their meaningless lives feel significant. Or so he thought.

Then, you came along.

At first, he was sure he’d end up killing you. Maybe after a day. A week, tops. But for some reason, he didn’t. You didn’t cower or crumble like everyone else. You didn’t bore him, either. That was the most irritating part. Instead of dying, you lingered around like some annoying pest, and for reasons he couldn’t understand, he didn’t get rid of you. Weeks turned to months, and instead of plotting your demise, Sukuna found himself… invested. He didn’t want to consume or torment you—no, you were something else entirely. Before he knew it, you’d flipped his entire world on its head. You made him happy. And worst of all, it wasn’t the kind of happiness he had to take by force—it just was.

The realization disgusted him. He hated it. He hated you. But not enough to leave. And so, he decided: if he was going to be this pathetically human, it would be a secret he took to his grave.

“Weakling,” he barked, appearing in front of you like the menace he was. His scowl was practically carved into his face, though the impatient tapping of his fingers betrayed him. “How much longer are you going to mess with those damn flowers? They’re weeds with delusions of grandeur.”

Of course, he’d never actually drag you away. Instead, he stood there, arms crossed, glaring at your garden as though it had personally insulted him. He muttered curses under his breath, but his eyes kept drifting back to you, softer than he’d ever admit.

“Don’t call me thaaat!” came your sweet, drawn-out whine, a playful protest aimed at his deep, rumbling voice. The sound was lighthearted, almost innocent, yet it hit him in ways you couldn’t possibly comprehend.

Oh, how blissfully unaware you were of the effect you had on him. Your voice, your expressions, even the way you turned to glare at him—it all stirred something in him he refused to name. You were so small, so utterly unassuming, yet somehow, you managed to occupy more space in his mind than anything else.

He grumbled in irritation as your whiny response met his ears. You were far too comfortable with him—a fact that both annoyed and amused him to no end. He had never imagined another being would dare speak to him with such familiarity, such blatant disregard for his status, such insolence. Yet, try as he might to be annoyed, he couldn’t ignore the strange warmth it brought him. The fact that you showed no fear around him was utterly baffling—and, somehow, endearing.

His crimson eyes lingered on you, sharp and calculating, though his gaze softened just slightly as it roamed over your figure. You were, undeniably, a beautiful woman pest. How irritatingly distracting you were.

Sukuna’s patience snapped as he watched you continue to fiddle with the weeds in your garden, completely ignoring him. His scowl deepened, as his large frame tense with irritation. This was getting out of hand.

He took a step toward you, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. “I said, stop.” His tone was low, a warning wrapped in cold menace. “Those weeds of yours have had enough.”

You glanced up at him briefly, your expression unbothered, before turning back to your task, muttering something about the flowers.

A flicker of frustration crossed his face, but he was done with words.

Before you could register what was happening, Sukuna reached down, his massive hand sweeping under your waist. With a single, effortless motion, he lifted you up and tossed you over his shoulder like you were nothing but a sack of some useless patatos.

“Sukuna!” you yelped, suddenly upside down and dangling over his shoulder, your world spinning as you tried to steady yourself. Your protests were drowned out by his steady, unyielding stride.

“Stop whinning, woman,” Sukuna said, his voice calm but thick with irritation. “Learn to obey at once.”

And just like that he was carrying the little insect who had managed to wrap her tiny legs around his being to his chambers, your soft little hands already clawing at his back but he barely two shits about your little protests. You were his and now you would pay attention.

———————————————————

an: a man in love, a sinner he maybe is forgiven, right?

lol

The lengths I would go to to justify my love for Sukuna are absurd.

[neptilius]

im thinking aboutttt satoru living to embarrass you after sex.

the room was quiet except for the sound of your heavy breathing as you sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the blanket up to cover your exposed body.

satoru leaned back lazily against the headboard, his shirt discarded somewhere on the floor, his sweat-slicked chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. white hair clung to his forehead in damp strands, and his lips curled into that smug grin that always made you want to throw a pillow at him.

“you’re so annoying,” you muttered, your cheeks burning from the aftermath of the whirlwind he’d just put you through.

“me? annoying?” he tilted his head, acting innocent , though the glint in his eyes said otherwise. “you weren’t saying that when I was knuckles deep in ya, huh?” his voice was low and teasing, sending a shiver down your spine.

“satoru!” you hissed, reaching for a pillow and chucking it at his head. he caught it easily, laughing as he tossed it aside like it was nothing. “do you ever shut up?”

“not when you make those sounds,” he continued, unphased, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as though recalling every detail. “god, i can’t get enough of that squelch noise.” he even emphasized it with a pop of his lips, which earned him a glare sharp enough to cut steel.

you threw another pillow, but this time, it hit his chest with a satisfying thud. “your disgusting.”

“and you love it,” he quipped, his grin widening as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “don’t act all shy now. you weren’t exactly quiet about how good it felt.”

your jaw dropped, and you searched for something, anything—to say that would shut him up. but of course, he always knew how to leave you flustered and speechless. he took pride in it.

“you’re annoying,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands to hide the blush creeping up your neck.

satoru leaned closer, gently prying your hands away. “c’mon, don’t hide that cute face from me.” his tone was softer now, though the mischief in his eyes hadn’t faded completely. “you know I live for this.”

“for what? embarrassing me?” you shot back, though your voice lacked the venom you intended.

“for making you feel good,” he replied, his voice dropping an octave as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “and for watching you try not to smile when I tease you.”

your lips twitched despite yourself, and he caught it instantly. “see? there it is,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to your flushed cheek.

“you’re the worst,” you said, though it came out more like a defeated sigh than an actual insult.

“and yet, here you are.” he smirked, pulling you into his lap with ease, his arms wrapping around your waist. “admit it! you love it when i talk dirty.”

you rolled your eyes, but the warmth spreading through your chest betrayed you. “i tolerate it,” you said, trying to sound indifferent.

“liar.” he nuzzled into your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “you’re already blushing again.”

you groaned, shoving at his chest half-heartedly. “i hate you.”

“no, you don’t,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “but nice try.”

[lordprettyflackotara]

Can you do a Jeff the killer public type thing just an idea 🤷‍♀️

die for me || jeff the killer

‘good God she’s on the floor rolling her eyes at me, once i get inside she’ll wanna die with me’

sum: after a long mission, Jeff can’t help but admire your dedication to him. the longer the drive back to the mansion goes on, Jeff decides he can’t wait any longer, that needs you now.

tw:smut, minors dni, 18+. public sex, filthy gas station sex, jeff’s a cocky bastard (duh), threats of violence but in a horny way, choking, etc

a/n: first fic inna minute let’s gooo, also friendly reminder i only write for afab/fem readers, that is the only thing i am comfortable writing. my rules are in my pinned post :)

Jeff couldn’t take it anymore.

He always knew he was terrible at controlling impulses. From killing, to insults, to fighting. When Jeff wanted something, nothing was going to get in his way.

This time however, that just so happened to be you.

You were sitting beside him in a beat up toyota, your feet hanging out of the window as you mindlessly played on the nintendo switch Ben had lent you. The orange street lamps briefly illuminated your face every few seconds as Jeff drove past them. Your furrowed eyebrows and softer expression captivated him.

Before this mission Jeff had never thought twice about you, if he was being honest. He never paid attention to anyone at the mansion, especially not newer residents. Typically the newer ones left before he even gave them a second look. But contrary to his dismay, The Operator deemed the two of you to be a compatible duo for the task he had in mind. Jeff was not happy about this, not fearful to hide his anger when he found out the news. Jeff was aware living in the mansion required completing some task every now and then. It was apart of the unspoken contract. Usually The Operator knew better then to send someone with Jeff, given how impulsive and unhinged the killer could be.

To Jeff’s surprise, you kept up with him. You matched every move he made, your face discreetly lighting up with excitement when he made an absurd impulsive decision. You never complained or got annoyed when Jeff mindlessly made a move. You never worried about the consequences. You trusted Jeff’s judgment. That kind of respect was never given to him by any of the others, despite the fact that he was one of the oldest creeps in the mansion. He couldn’t help but continue to glance at you, soaking in your features. He cursed the Earth for making it nighttime, your mesmerizing facial features hidden every few seconds.

Endless words were on the tip of the pale killers tongue, Jeff desperate to have a conversation with you. He hardly even knew your name, shit, he wasn’t even sure he had the correct name in mind. What would you two talk about? How breath taking you looked with fresh blood splattered across your cheeks? How his heart thumped every-time you giggled at one of his shitty one liners? Or how you admired every time he wrote ‘go to sleep’ on the walls after his killing spree? Jeff gripped the steering wheel harshly, gritting his teeth.

Why was this so difficult? He’d never had a problem with this before. Talking to people was the least of his worries, given his appearance. That was another thing he liked about you. You never stared at him like he was some wild zoo animal. You looked at him like he was just another person. Most people, including new residents, always gawked at him like he was a fucked up science experiment. But you? Delightfully the opposite. He tried to keep his eyes on the road, shoving off his thoughts. He spread his legs just a little wider, ignoring the way his body felt ignited. He pressed against the gas pedal, pushing the ancient car to its limits. This caught your attention, causing you to put down the gaming device. You gave him a wicked grin as you rearranged your position, taking off your seatbelt.

This alarmed Jeff, his obsidian hardened gaze meeting yours.

“What the-, what are you doing?” He questioned, his voice sounding more concerned than he would’ve liked. You giggled as you propped yourself to lean out of the car window, your hair brushing past you in the wind. He could hear your cheers of excitement, your head spinning as you felt like you were soaring. Jeff was mesmerized watching you, so much so his eyes were barely on the road anymore. It wasn’t enough that you were so reckless, so effortlessly addicted to any possible danger. But what was sending him over the edge, were your legs. Bare and exposed, your skirt riding up your soft thighs. He swallowed as you parted your knees, revealing just enough of your black lacey panties.

Jeff had to stop himself from slamming on the brakes, his cock growing harder in his jeans. Were you doing this on purpose? Jeff couldn’t tell, your laughter flooding his ears as you leaned further out of the car. If Jeff could’ve had it his way, he would’ve bent you over the hood of the car on the side of the road and fucked you until you begged for him to stop. But he knew if anyone saw someone like him, police would immediately be involved. And if there’s one thing Jeff hated anything more than Jane, it was the police. So instead he abruptly turned the wheel to the left, grinning in satisfaction as he located a small gas station.

Driving through the middle of no where had its perks, meaning if anyone saw him, he definitely had a chance of just killing them all and leaving. But it also meant there would only be a few people to keep you quiet from. “You hungry or something?” You asked, your hair messy and tangled as you popped back into the car. Your cheeks were flushed red, your eyes forming with excitement at the mere idea of a proposition to do something unhinged. “Yeah i’m hungry alright, c’mon,” Jeff grunted, shoving his hood over his head before climbing out of the car. You followed him, the pale killer keeping his head down as he trudged into the store. You followed behind him closely, unsure of what his next move would be. That was another thing Jeff liked about you, your dedication to following his lead.

He could hear the satisfying clicking of your boots as you trailed behind him, the pale killer noting your eyes hovering over a bag of spicy doritos. “We’ll get those inna second, cmere,” Jeff beckoned, motioning for you to follow. You rejoined him, his slender fingers grabbing your wrist. You let out a gasp of surprise as he yanked you into the gas station restroom, locking the door behind you. His large hand covered your mouth, his other pushing you against the rough wall. His obsidian eyes bored into yours as he stared down at you, noting the way your gaze flickered back and forth. As if you were searching his eyes for an explanation. “I don’t know how you did it doll, but you’ve got my attention. Shit, you’ve got me wrapped around your little finger,” He growled. Jeff didn’t like vulnerable confessions, but he didn’t fail to notice the way your eyebrows were raised in confusion.

“Now tell me, did you wear those little black panties for me? Did you hope you’d get my attention with them? That i’d take them off of you?” Jeff huffed. He could feel your face growing warm under his touch, his pale hand slowly lifting off of your face. You were visibly flustered, a soft gasp escaping your lips as he nudged his knee in between your legs. “Answer me before I cut out your tongue,” He threatened, knowing it held no weight. You licked your dry lips before speaking, breathless as he brought his knee to your core. “Y-Yes, you have no idea how badly i’ve wanted y-you,” You sputtered, clearly embarrassed by the forced confession. Jeff tsked, grabbing your chin forcefully. You should’ve known better than to expect a fairytale kiss, Jeff was always known to do what he wants. No guidelines needed.

“Well you sure do know how to flatter a man. Think you can keep up with me doll?” He smirked, feeling himself growing harder in his jeans. With a shaky hand you boldly brought your hand to his bulge, palming at it through the fabric. Jeff’s painted grin grew wider, his eyes ignited with a feral flame. “Naughty naughty girl. You’ll get what you want, just keep quiet for me,” He purred. Without warning he threw himself down onto his knees, lifting up your skirt. “If you want me to keep going you gotta be quiet. Wouldn’t want anyone hearing you, would we?” Jeff asked, relishing in satisfaction as you nodded like a bobble head. He brought his hot mouth to your core, licking a stripe up your clothed cunt. He watched as you squirmed, biting your lower lip to remain silent. He nudged your thighs open wider, pulling your panties to the side.

Jeff stared at your wet cunt, your body practically begging for him to take you. Teasingly he hovered over your cunt for a moment, before diving in like a starved man. You let out a small gasp, before covering your mouth with your own hand. Your other found its way to his hair, your knees threatening to buckle as his tongue flickered across your sensitive clit. Jeff enjoyed using his large hands to pry your thighs open, his fingers harshly digging into the skin. You tilted your head back, your eyes fluttering shut as his tongue teased your entrance. He enjoyed feeling your body beg for more, squeezing around nothing as he enjoyed the nectar your pussy provided.

You were a slave to the way he pleased you, the feeling more erotic to you than you could’ve dreamed of. You had wanted Jeff from the moment you had entered the mansion. The pale killer was tall, dark, and mean. He was fearless, not fearing anyone, anything, or any possible repercussions that could come his way. You admired him for that, your first nights spent with your fingers deep in your cunt as you imagined him destroying your body for his own fun. Now he was on his knees in front of you, lapping at your drenched folds. You tasted divine, Jeff grinning in sick satisfaction as he knew all of his arousal was for him and him alone. You could feel your core begin to tighten, your legs shaking as you approached your first orgasm.

Jeff could feel this too, his lips attached to your clit and sucking harshly. He wanted to rip your first wave of euphoria right out of you. He demanded it. He needed it. He looked up, admiring your desperation to keep quiet as you came in his mouth. The pale killer only lapped at your folds harder, determined to clean you up as best as he could with his tongue. He smirked, chin and lips coated in your juices as he emerged from between your thighs. He rose to his feet, towering over you. You looked dazed, your heart pounding as his strong hands kept you upright. Swallowing, you stared up at him with lust filled eyes. He removed your hand from your mouth, listening to you pant quietly. “Don’t tell me you’re worn out already doll, we’re just getting started,” Jeff snickered, beaming with pride as he tucked some stray hairs behind your ear.

In a swift motion he dragged you over to the sink, bending you over and grabbing a handful of your hair. Your eyes landed on him in the filthy mirror, Jeff’s eyes darkening as he unzipped his pants. “You’re gonna watch me fuck you, understand? You’re gonna watch me ruin this little cunt for anyone else but me. If you look away I won’t hesitate to bash your head in, understood?” Jeff snarled, adjusting himself to your entrance. You verbalized agreement, your body on cloud nine as he began to shove himself inside of you. Your hands gripped the sides of the sink, your knuckles turning white as he abruptly bottomed out inside of you. The pale killer was not a gentle man, especially not when it came to abusing your cunt for his own pleasure. He released your hair, several strands messily falling into your face. His large hand wrapped itself around your neck, his slender fingers dedicated to forming bruises on your tender skin.

His dark obsidian eyes stared at you in the mirror, watching your face scrunch up in pleasure as your walls adjusted around him. “You’re a sick fuck, wanting someone like me to take you like this,” Jeff huffed, slowly moving his hips. Your whimper was muffled by his hand squeezing around your throat, restricting your airway. “In a filthy gas station bathroom too? Such a sick whore,” He seethed, watching your lips part and form into the shape of an O. He had to hold back his own sinful noises as he began to fuck you properly, his cock abusing your g spot with his each thrust. He could feel how tightly you squeezing him, how much your body craved his filthy words. “You like this? Hmm? Being used like a fuckin slut in public?” He grumbled in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. Your eyes threatened to roll back into your head, Jeff squeezing your throat harder.

“Eyes on us slut, don’t make me ruin that pretty face of yours,” He threatened, your fucked out eyes returning to the unholy sight in the mirror. He grinned sadistically as he nibbled at your earlobe, feeling your body grind against his as he did so. Your body felt like it was on fire, your legs trembling as you approached your next high. You had never felt so euphoric before, your body addicted to the pleasure you had only dreamed of. “Such a good fuck doll for me, fuck,” Jeff groaned, fucking into you harshly. You could feel your body growing closer to the edge of your final orgasm, your knuckles turning white from gripping the sink so hard. Jeff could sense this as well, shooting you a sadistic glance in the mirror. “C’mon pretty girl, cum on my cock. Make a mess for me,” He purred, licking your ear lobe. It felt so sickeningly pleasurable you came on his command, your eyes rolling back as euphoria washed over you.

The high of your orgasm didn’t last long, your vision hazy as Jeff forced you onto your knees. Your knees hit the gross sticky tile below, his cock covered in your juices and his precum as he stood before you.

“We aren’t done slut. Open up your mouth and suck.”

[theocddiaries]

Sonic: There's someone at school who's making Tails' life miserable. Shadow: What happened? Sonic: I don't know; he won't tell me. But he's more anxious than I've seen him in a long time. Can you take him to class today, please? Shadow: Why me??? Sonic: Because if I go, I'll lose it. You know me. I don't want to make it worse for him. Shadow: Yeah, you’re right. When that kid's involved, you can’t control yourself… Sonic: Exactly. So, you take him to school today? Shadow: But the kid hates me. Sonic: Please, Shads, it’s just dropping him off and leaving. It’s not that hard. --- Tails: I’m late for class. Shadow: …I know. I can read the time. Tails: Doesn’t look like it, because I’m late for class. Shadow [takes a slow breath]: Alright, I’m sorry, okay? Tails: At least you could write me an excuse. That’s what Sonic does. Shadow: Then you should’ve asked him before I had to drag you out of the house before we would be even more late. Principal: Well, look who’s late. Are you his brother? Tails: Ew, no. Shadow: No, no-- Principal: Honestly, I’m not surprised you’re denying it. Shadow: No, I'm no denying anything, he's really not-- Principal: I’d deny it too, seeing how the kid turned out. All he does is disrupt class and waste his classmates’ time. But what can you expect from a child who was basically feral until he was four? I imagine he’s driving you crazy at home too. [grabs Tails by the hand]: Off to class now-- Shadow [steps in front of them, blocking the way]: No, no. Excuse me, what did you just say about the kid? You know what, instead of going to class, why don’t we go see the principal and get their opinion on your teaching methods? Tails [whispers]: She is the principal. Shadow: Oh… Well, then I’ll say it to your face. Do you think it’s appropriate to insult your students? He’s just a kid. If your self-esteem is so low that you’re personally offended by him being smarter than you and everyone else in this dump of a building, then go to therapy. Don’t give him a complex. The reason we’re late is because you’ve got him so terrified and anxious that he barely wants to come here anymore. Got it? Shadow [grabs Tails by the hand and pulls him close, then picks him up]: And just so you know, if this kid wants to be an aerospace engineer, a mechanical physicist, or invent a whole new career, he’ll do it. Because my brother has the brains for that and more. [walks to the door]. Tails: You know what I want to be when I grow up??? Shadow: Of course I do; you talk about it all the time. Tails: And you called me your brother? Shadow: …Do you want to talk about that or go get some ice cream? Tails: Ice cream. [A while later, they return home] Sonic: Why are you back so early? Tails: Shadow got into it with the principal. Sonic: What? Shadow: I’ll explain later… If the school doesn’t call you to explain first. Sonic: What happened??? Tails: We left after Shadow told her off and left her speechless. It was awesome. [tugs on Sonic’s arm to bring him down to his level]: Can you date Shadow forever, please?? Shadow: That depends on how he takes the fact that I got you kicked out of school. Sonic: You got kicked out?? Tails: In his defense, we walked out. Sonic: Okay, um… Hey, why don’t you go check on the food in the kitchen, and you’ll tell me about it later? Tails [nods and leaves] Sonic [smirking]: So I’m the one who can’t keep it together when the kid’s involved? Shadow: …Shut up.

Part 1

[urfavlarry]

—I’ll be watching you

A/N. this is my first ever time writing for arcane so I’m sorry if anyone is OOC, also you call Jinx “Calamity Jane” towards the end and as a sort of explanation I read that she (Martha Jane Burke, who was nicknamed that) would bring calamity (great harm) to anyone who made her angry or something like that so I thought it pretty much fit?? idk am I crazy?

Summary. A failed mission leaves Jinx emotionally shattered, and as her partner and the one closest to her, you offer your comfort.

warning. mentions of gagging, swearing, not proof read

"Y/N?" Sevika’s voice cuts through your makeshift bedroom, her tone steady and low, though you catch a hint of an almost unnoticeable smile she only ever reveals to people she trusts most— at least the genuine ones. “Yeah?" You respond, raising an eyebrow as you sit up, suspicion creeping into your thoughts at her sudden appearance.

“Silco is calling,” she announces, her tone turning serious as she gestures toward the door. “Says it’s urgent, so you better get your ass moving before he loses his patience.” As you stand, she claps a firm hand on your back, sending you on your way.

Your expression betrays your lack of enthusiasm as you leave. Nearly eight months into working for Silco, the experience has been nothing short of a rollercoaster .

You remember how it all began—how they found you. You’d been left for dead on the streets, your body beaten, hunger eating at you (as ironic as that sounded) until even your consciousness started to slip from you. Then, amidst the blur of pain and hopelessness, a voice broke through. “Hey, Sevika? Found a girl and she ain’t moving,” the voice had said, casual yet laced with curiosity, dragging out the ‘o’ in moving. It belonged to a blue-haired girl who crouched near your crumpled form. Before long, footsteps rushed closer and everything after that was a haze. What mattered now was that you were alive, under a roof, and surrounded by people who, if not outright kind, were at least kind enough in keeping you around.

Jinx had become the closest to you. Only a year younger, she often found reasons to drag you into her antics whenever she wasn’t trapped in one of her moods. She had opened up to you on more than one occasion, revealing fragments of her past that very few had the privilege— or misfortune to hear. On other days, she’d meet your concern with sarcasm or tell you to “fuck off” or whatever insult she decided to call you that day. Charming as ever, Jinx had a knack for keeping things...interesting.

As you approach Silco’s office you knock on the carved wooden door, finding yourself momentarily distracted, tracing the details of the design before the faint, muffled words, “Come in,” snap you back to reality.

Pushing the door open, you straighten your posture and try your best to keep your face as neutral as possible. “You called for me?” you ask, stepping forward to stand before the desk where Silco sat, a cigarette between his slim fingers.

The smoke quickly mixes into the air, making it harder to breathe but you endure it without complaint. In the background soft jazz plays, the sound leaving you in a trance, another world where things seemed better. Visions of elegant soirées, women in flowing gowns, men in expensive tuxedos, their laughter and movement going along with the tunes of a trumpet.

“Y/N,” Silco’s sharp voice snaps you out of your train of thougt and you blink, realizing you’ve lost focus, the tips of your ears burning with embarrassment. “Are you even listening to me right now?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer, though only half-truthfully. You’ve caught fragments of his words, something about Jinx and another one of her shenanigans, the details of which were already causing a headache to ripple through his operations.

“Good,” he says, exhaling a big puff of smoke before dismissing you with a wave of his hand. “Go.”

Without hesitation, you leave the office, heading directly to Jinx’s hideout.

‘What have you done this time?’ You think to yourself, a groan escaping your lips as your steps echo against the metal platforms leading to the heart of her chaotic sanctuary.

You soon spot her, nestled within her makeshift fort illuminated by warm, glowing lights. It looks oddly serene—a stark contrast to the whirlwind of chaos she so often brings. It’s the kind of space that might calm her restless energy when the world, or her mind, seem to turn against her.

You carefully step towards her figure which was huddled in a sort of ball, her eyes wide and brows furrowed with anger. She kept mumbling incoherent sentences and threats which you only caught certain words from. You croach next the girls small figure and observe her before speaking up.

“So.. Wanna talk about it.” You whisper, offering her yourself as a sort of vent book or punching bag for her to just pour everything out, which from your experience worked best for the both of you.

She only rolled her eyes in annoyance, whispering a harsh ‘Go away’ before turning your back to you.

The information you got from Silco was vague, however you pieced together that like always, she was only trying to help but sadly her cards weren’t in her favour.

“Listen, I know your upset and that’s completely valid on your end however don’t hold these feelings in. Okay, sweets?” A gentle hand lands on Jinxs’ back and everything came crashing down on her. She leaped into your arms, full on ugly crying and shaking from the built up tension. She yelled profanities and sentances left and right and all you could really do was listen and let her get it out.

You didn’t say anything for a moment, giving her the space to compose herself. Jinx sat back, her knees drawn to her chest, her fingers idly fidgeting with a loose thread on her pants. The raw vulnerability in her expression was something rare—something she reserved for no one but you and Silco.

"You done?" you ask softly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips to help lift her mood.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m done,” she muttered, her voice raspy from all the shouting and crying. Her usual amount of energy dim, replaced by a kind of exhaustion that made her seem smaller than she really was.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” you asked, keeping your tone gentle but firm. You didn’t want to push her too hard, but you also knew that bottling things up would only make it worse for her.

Jinx hesitated, her fingers tightening around the thread she was pulling at. “It’s stupid,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I could help out because their plan was pretty fucking stupid, but instead, I just.. made it worse.”

She continued with a hint of guilt in her tone, eyes looking towards her fingers which her nails were scratching at. “The mission went to shit, and everyone was yelling, and I thought one of the new gadgets I made.. you know the one I showed you a few days ago? Yeah that one just went ‘boom’ and it destroyed a lot of the Shimmer. Sevika said I was insane, that I wasn’t thinking straight, but I was! She said I jinxed the whole mission but what can I say that’s what I’m best at! Haha Jinx jinxing a mission! Ironic ain’t it—”

You placed your hand over hers, stilling the nervous rambling. “Hey,” you said softly, meeting her red violet eyes. “You tried. That’s more than most people would’ve done. You’re not perfect, Jinx. None of us are. I mean were the ‘shitty lower class’ and not some pilties getting life handed on a golden plate.. But you care, and that counts for something.”

She didn’t respond right away, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Was Silco pissed?,” she asked, her voice sounding sore.

“At you? Probably a tiny bit.. buuut if I, your lovely guardian angel, goes with you and explain the whole situation I bet Sevika will be taking the blame by the end of the night,” you quipped, earning a small, shaky laugh from her. “He knows you better than anyone.. Silco, I mean. He knows your heart’s in the right place, even if things don’t always go according to plan.”

The two of you sat there for a while, the silence between you comforting rather than awkward. For now, she seemed calmer, her messsed up mind quieting. It wasn’t a permanent fix—it never was but it was enough for today.

“Thanks, Y/N,” she said after a while, her voice soft but sincere.

“Anytime, Jinx,” you replied, leaning back with a sigh. “Now, how about we get out of here? Maybe grab something to eat before Silco summons us both for round two?”

She chuckled lightly, wiping the last of her tears away. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

With that, you stood and helped her to her feet, her hand lingering in yours for a moment longer than usual before she let go. You gently kiss her forehead, her eyebrows furrowing and making a fake gag sound before she kissed your cheek; “Go on, we’ve got some explaining to do Calamity Jane.” A smile crept onto your face as she skipped ahead, already sort of going back to her usual self. Others would think she was being ungrateful and bratty, however you know deep down somewhere in that storm of a heart and mind of hears she’s happy to have someone like you.

Someone that listens.

┊͙

© URFAVLARRY

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE OR COPY ANY OF MY WRITING TO OTHER PLATFORMS

I DON’T CONSENT FOR MY WRITING TO BE USED TO TRAIN AI 🚫

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Hello, how are you? Can I ask, in which Jason finds a fissure and enters it without thinking and comes out straight into a sculpture shop, where Reader is the one who creates them (Reader creates a crush and sees Jason as a muse), but in Reader's universe it is an ancient time, even though it is in the same year as Jason's universe, (reader flirts awkwardly)? Anguished ending? And sorry for being long, I got very happy.

You Are My Muse

Jason Todd x Reader

wc: 2.3 K summary: Jason finds his way to you (through accident) warnings: sassy jason, no y/n used, lore, fluff, reader's universe is the same as ours but without brainrot, angst a/n: (divider: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more) kind of fucked up the flirting part, but I still hope you enjoy....... (i'm so sorry this took so long)

»Why‘s my nose so big?«

»It‘s not!«

»Okay, so why do I feel insecure now?« It‘s the first thing Jason notices once he sees a head sculpture of himself, staring right back at it. His nose doesn‘t look that big, he just doesn‘t want to admit that this looks exactly like him.

And now that he got here, he can‘t escape. Maybe, walking through a mysterious fissure, in the middle of his walk, wasn‘t his best decision, but he believes he had worse. Now, he is stuck in some sort of art studio with countless of sculptures, sketches and your so-called 'drafts‘ sitting around.

You were surprised at first, scared even. Of course you would be, if your own creation — suddenly a breathing human-being — comes out of the shadow. Everyone else would be scared too. But now, after double checking that you aren‘t dreaming, you are talking to him and start to grow frustrated. You didn‘t think you created such confident, even cocky, person. Even if it doesn‘t come off as insulting, it starts to make you annoyed.

»Okay, how about you try to make one yourself? It takes a lot of time to master such art, let alone get the material for it.« He cocks his head, taking in the other creations around the big room; ignoring your challenge.

»Is that my brother— is that Dick?«

Jason gestures at one head sculpture not too far away from the both of you, making you turn your attention to it as well.

»Oh, yes. I also have your whole family here, but… as you see, I like creating you the most.« You become lightly flustered at the end. He doesn‘t notice, instead, he keeps staring at the creations.

»How‘d you manage to do that? How do you even know us?« This question makes you pause, but you quickly compose yourself.

»I… created you? I‘m your creator?« You answer back, being unsure yourself. But it makes sense that he is confused. So are you.

»What do you mean ‚created‘? What the hell is this?«

»My sculpture shop.«

»Yeah, but… okay, let me calm down for a minute.« Jason sits down at one of the stools and takes a deep breath, staring around your creations a little longer. It‘s definitely well-made and detailled, and his brain is finally starting to catch up.

»I can make you… a hot chocolate, if you‘re stressed.«

He glances back at you, snapping out of his thoughts and processes your offer. Jason shrugs, eventually leaving the decision up to you. You take his silent shrug as a yes and exit the room to make him something warm to drink.

Turns out, Jason loves hot chocolate. Although you‘re not sure if he was just thirsty or genuinely likes it, or was simply stress drinking. Either way, he complimented it before being seemingly more calm about the situation.

You settled him inside your apartment, living with him together from now on. It wasn‘t long until Jason finally notices the subtle differences in your universe. In here, there are no phones, no social media and most importantly, no electricity. Somehow, you still speak his language and even use those stupid slangs his younger brother Tim uses to annoy him.

»What do you mean you ‘don‘t know what gossip girls are‘? It‘s like...« my favourite show, he wants to say, but holds back, »The best piece of media!« Jason manages out, still bewildered that someone like you has no clue about such a show.

You simply shrug with your shoulders, keeping your confused gaze on him. He eventually gives up, waving it off with a huff.

»We have some catch up to do once we get back to my universe.«

Since you made him settle in the next room to yours, and have thin walls, you can hear about almost everything. The sheets rustles to the soft cries that are heard from his room after a nightmare. It doesn‘t seem like he wants to talk about it as well, after attempting to approach him about it one day. You respect his boundaries, that he doesn‘t want to share his vulnerable side, especially since you don‘t each other that well yet. Ironic, considering he is pratically your own creation among many others.

Sighing out, you exit your bedroom and make a sweet tea for the both of you.

Soft knocks are heard from the other side of his door, making him still in his bed. Jason wipes the silent tears off his cheeks, already irritated about the interruption. Nevertheless, he opens his door and blinks a few times at you.

There you stand, two mugs of tea that are steaming hot. The sweet scent reaches his nose, making him less annoyed.

»I told you not to bother.« He mumbles out, running a hand though his sweaty locks, but feels reluctant to close the door again.

»Still… at least let me make you less stressed,« you shrug, carefully saying your next words, »I can hear everything in my room anyway...«

Jason pauses before he nods and takes one of the hot mugs from you. You can make out the faintest smile on his face, deciding to ignore it and take a sip of your tea.

Nights like these evolved into laying next to each other in comfortable silence or sharing the story of his previous nightmare. It was one the things Jason cherished, while being stuck in this universe. He didn‘t go out as much in this universe, not daring to see any more of the differences between your universe and his.

He often enjoys his time at your art studio or even cooks something up in your kitchen out of boredom. Without any entertainment, he has to do something without his beloved phone and books. That‘s why he usually hangs out with your sculptures and sometimes even makes some small ones himself. You thought him an easy technique to sculpt small stuff and he has been trying to master it since then. There‘s already a wobbly symbol of his second persona – Red Hood. He even painted it the according colour and makes sure it stays next to his head sculpture.

You notice the big effort he puts into his small creations, smiling lightly to yourself whenever you spot another one of his silly works. While he mostly gets to bore himself all day, you work in your studio and go about your day, collecting more material and ideas. Often times than not, Jason simply watches you work, admiring the way you casually sculpt one of his brothers as if it‘s the most normal thing on earth. He still needs to get a grasp on the technique of it all, so far it‘s all magic to him.

»How do you do all that without any reference?« Jason wonders from his stool on the other side of the studio, head tilted to one side.

»I do have some… look.«

You shrug and step up to your work desk, fishing out a larger sketchbook and hand it to him. »It‘s all there.«

He grabs the sketchbook and sits back down on his spot, starting to flip through the pages. His eyes study the flawlessly drawn faces and poses of each person, recognising them right away.

There‘s Damian taking care of animals and training with his Katana, or Dick doing crazy acrobatics.

Each page reveals new poses and facial expressions, but what he notices is the sheer amount of his sketched faces. He doesn‘t speak up about it yet, continuing to look through them. The next page shows him, in a full body pose, revealing his scarred skin and muscles on full display. Jason clears his throat and shifts in his seat, taking in further details of it. The autopsy scar, clear as day, making him suddenly very self-conscious about it. After flipping to the next page, he is greeted with yet another naked portait of himself, this time striking a pose that emphasizes his muscles. Finally, he decides to get up and spook you.

»What‘s this? Just references?« He comes up behind you, his deep voice ringing just behind your ear. You glance behind your shoulder, spotting the sketches in his hands. Your face drops briefly before composing yourself, letting out a light chuckle.

»Oh, this? Yeah, just references. Nothing else, just… admiring your pretty body.« Now it‘s Jason‘s turn to be caught off guard for a second. His cheeks flush, but he stays composed.

»Yeah? Well, then… if it‘s just references of me and my pretty body...« He teases back, smirk playing on his lips as he steps off.

You try to think of how to flirt more with him, even if it means getting to say stupid stuff and teasing each other like idiots. So, you step off your current creation and disappear behind a curtain, where the bigger scluptures sit around. You carefully put one out into the studio, making sure not to accidentally trip and shatter it into pieces as you do.

The sculpture is Jason, body naked and striking the same pose as the last sketch. His muscles look tense and well defined, his scars looking more prominent in the light. Jason pauses and takes in the copy of himself, naked on full display and looking gorgeous. Even better than the real thing, he thinks.

You cross your arms proudly and take in his reaction, a smirk on your face as you present it to him.

Finally, he reacts and clears his throat, nodding in acknowledgement.

»No need to show off, nerd...« He mumbles out, clearly flustered over the statue.

A week went by and Jason grows frustrated over the fact that he can‘t seem to find a way back to his own home. He desperately tried to search for some fissure in your studio which he came through in the first place, but he couldn‘t find it. You can feel the frustrated energy in your whole apartment, being able to grasp onto it. Jason stands off the couch, walking into the kitchen to cook his mood away. You follow him shortly after, settling against the counter as you watch him prepare the ingredients.

You don‘t speak up yet, waiting for him to start cooking and figure out what he is making. Jason starts to cut up various vegetables, deciding to help him. You grab another cutting board for yourself and get the other paprike from him, starting to slice it up like he does. Jason stays silent as he works, focused on not being too rough on the vegetables and accidentally stab himself in the process.

Eventually, he lays his knife down and gets a pan from one of the shelves, knowing your kitchen like the back of his hand by now. He starts to throw the diced stuff into the pan, putting on the heat on the stove. You add the rest into it, silently following what he‘s doing.

Jason leans his hands on the edge of the counter, waiting for the pan to start heating up. A heavy sigh leaves him, watching how his lids close slowly.

»You know, I don‘t need your help.«

»But I want to.« You answer back with a light smile, hoping to ease the mood. Jason, however, doesn‘t seem to be affeceted much by it. Instead, he finally looks at you, eyes locking with yours. Your expression softens and you give him space, understanding that he is under stress.

Jason bites his inner cheek before he takes a step closer, wrapping you up in a hug; sighing out shakily against your shoulder. You didn‘t expect it but reciprocate the hug, gently caressing his back with your palm. He stays close, lightly swaying you both from side to side and tightens his hold around you.

Jason doesn‘t want to leave. At least not without you. But he won‘t say those words out loud, preffering to keep it to himself.

The vegetables in the pan start sizzling, making him let go of you and return back to cooking. You sigh out softly and stick by his side, continuing to watch him cook a meal for the both of you.

The evening stays cozy between the two of you, eating the warm meal before you settle into your respected rooms.

You shriek up at night, cold sweat running over your back. You jerk up again as you hear something shatter in the next room. Quickly, you scatter to your feet and exit your room, trying to find the cause for the loud sound. Outside, there‘s two white slits staring back at you, making you pause and stay still. Your first instinct is to call for Jason, find safety in his presence, but no words are coming out of your throat.

Luckily, you don‘t have to call him, as he walks out of his bedroom already. Jason also stops once he notices the dark figure in front of you and tenses briefly. Seems like he knows them, considering the way he takes a few steps forward and shields you from the darker figure.

»We have to go home, the portal only lasts for two more minutes.« The unfamiliar figure finally starts, urging Jason back to his ownuniverse. Jason relents, but knows he should follow him back.

»Give me a minute—«

»There‘s no time,« The other person presses, not understanding the reluctance of Jason. But Jason doesn‘t listen and turn to face you, trying to find his words. However, you understand and only stare back at him, already accepting the fate. Finally, Jason takes a deep breath and speaks up, quietly.

»I‘ll see you again, yeah?« With an uneven sigh, he takes a step back and follows his brother, watching how they both disappear into a bright slight out of air.

Panicking, you rush to Jason‘s previous room and hope what you just saw was a werid hallucination. Inside, you are greeted with nothing but his lit lamp light at the nightstand, and the silence of your empty apartment. Scoffing, you sit down at the bed, trying to get along the situation. On his nighstand stands a smaller, ceramic figure. A moon-shaped plate, coloured in a deep red.

a/n: this was so fun to write!! i really liked the idea, i hope i was able to execute it well, thanks for the request

←MASTERLIST

[wilhelminyard]

compilation of nice/sweet things the foxes said to neil because even though they're a bunch of assholes who'll insult anyone in their vicinity they all just love him so damn much (part 1) :

WYMACK :

"if your parents are a problem for you, we'll move you to south carolina early."

"foxes are foxes for a reason and they know we wouldn't sign you if you didn't qualify. that doesn't mean they know specifics. it's not my place to ask and I'm sure as hell not going to tell them."

"it's about second chances, neil. second, third, fourth, whatever, as long as you get at least one more than what anyone else wanted to give you."

"I have never, ever hit someone without provocation and I'm sure as hell not going to start with you. you hear me?"

"I'll take care of this. you take care of you."

"do you have any idea what could have happened to you between here and there? what were you thinking? you should have called me"

"any of us would have come and gotten you"

"it's not your job to take care of yourself anymore. it's your job to play, and mine and abby's job to look after you."

ANDREW :

"oh you might actually turn out to be interesting"

"you be something. kevin says you'll be a champion. four years and you'll go pro. five years and you'll be court."

"curious that a man with so much potential, who has so much fun, who could 'be something' wouldn't want any of it"

"a liar who practices occasional honesty. clever."

"are you going to tell kevin?" "don't ask me stupid questions"

"oh neil, as unpredictable as he is unreal"

"what would it take to make you stay?"

"I'll stand between you and the moriyamas"

"you gave your game to kevin. give your back to me."

KEVIN :

"neil is exactly what the foxes need right now. his inexperience is inconsequential. we went through a hundred files looking for a striker for this year, but neil is the only one we approached. we knew as soon as we saw him we needed to sign him. we're just lucky we got there before anyone else did"

"our primary concern was keeping neil safe"

"*to riko* leave him alone."

MATT :

"are you bleeding anywhere?"

"coach says [neil's] got potential. andrew says you're fast. [...] andrew bets you can outrun everyone on this team."

"seriously are you okay?"

"I'll owe you one" "you won't owe me anything"

"you be careful, okay?"

"I'm fine" "you say that a lot. I'm starting to think you don't know what it means."

"coach says stupid but I say you have balls of steel"

NICKY :

"neil, you clean up good"

"andrew is keeping you, same as he kept kevin. it means you're part of the family now. [...] family means something different with us because it has to. it's not about blood. it's not even about who we like. it's about who andrew's willing to protect."

"that makes you invaluable to andrew"

"you're one of us, which means we'll never push you further than you're willing to go"

DAN :

"are you okay?"

"coach said you hitchhiked your way back here. I'd yell at you for being stupid but coach said he handled that already"

"we didn't let him [in]. he didn't make it further than the front door."

"neil? you don't have to do this, you know"

ALLISON :

"looking fancy"

SETH :

"maybe you're not as stupid as I thought"

AARON :

(I know it surprised me too but it's probably the only compliment he gives neil throughout the entire series and they literally just met at that point)

"at least you're not going to completely drag us down. it'll take most the season to get you where we need you to be but I can see why kevin picked you"

[acid-ixx]

last night, i just had a terrible nightmare where someone sent in a really long ask that was straight up hating and criticizing every part of my writing. calling out the insecurities/faults, plot inconsistencies, and insulting my writing style—

which i admit: yeah, it's wordy and really long, sometimes i focus too much on one scene or on the emotions solely, and i focus on every single detail; i'm a very emotional and hypersensitive person who likes to overanalyze on the scenes and characters. i acknowledge that it's unconventional and unprofessional at times; but it's what makes me happy and it's up to readers to continue reading or not despite the length. it's my own writing, i write content for free and everything i post are indulgent on my part, hence why i explicitly state i don't really wish for constructive criticism since again, it's all for free and it's all done for fun.

though, in that dream, it came to the point where the ask straight up told me i should just quit writing, that whatever i'm writing for is utter trash (overrated, it says. there are better writers out there and, yeah, i agree. i've the passion and drive but not so much for talent) and not worth the effort to read. so i did what was told and deactivated my account and went on to never write anymore fanfics after just how shaken up i was, then i woke up HAHAHAH.

and it genuinely felt so real, ngl. i couldn't get it off of my mind even until now, so here i am rambling about it. sorry if anyone expected me to post a drabble, or a fanfic; but right now i need more time to ponder upon whether or not i should change my writing style 'cause chapter five pt 2 will be posted soon but it's longer and who knows? maybe my worst nightmare may come true if i post it and it's subpar, not up to expectation.

and if people don't really wish for something long that borders on boring or filler scenes, then maybe, maybe not i will change how i write (but i probably won't lmao). either way, i have to remind myself that i am writing for myself, and posting it to simply archive in this account. i just hope people won't be as cruel as that mystery person in my dreams if i ever do

it's genuinely the audience's choice to read my works or not if the length or style bothers them. and as entitled as i may sound, i wish to remind some that writing a chapter with more than 10k words is my choice, and it's an arduous process too that takes hours of my time. writing fanfics is for me is purely indulgent and are reflections of my real life experiences, if it's lengthy, then yes i chose it to be, but it's not like i'm writing a thesis or an essay, i'm writing a goddamn fanfic with stereotypical tropes (most especially yandere) because it what makes me enjoy my passion as an author.

i apologize again for the long ramble, i really just need this out of my thoughts. this is my own blog too so yeah 😭. if you guys follow me solely for my fanfics, then filter out the "🍨... yael's talking" tag if you wish to avoid these types of talks.

[justapossum]

JUST LISTENED TO THE ITHACA SAGA AND HOLY SHIT

Ody taking out Antinous like it was nothing? Not even giving him a second to fight back? Because he hurt his son and threatened his wife? CHILLS

Telemachus standing up for himself and trying to protect his mom? And then Ody BACKING HIM UP LIKE THE GOOD FATHER HE IS

ODY CLEARLY SAYING WHAT THE SUITORS WERE GOING TO DO. NO NEED TO BEAT AROUND THE BUSH. JUST BEING BLUNT ABOUT IT AND THEN KILLING THEM WITHOUT REMORSE??? THAT'S A KING RIGHT THERE

Penelope letting out all her anger at the implication that she would fall out of love with Ody? Penelope finding Ody's "will you fall in love with me again?" insulting because *she never fell out of love with him*?

Telemachus finally getting to see his father after living in his shadow. AND ODY VALIDATING HIM AND HIS STRENGTH. PROVIDING UNCONDITIONAL LOVE DESPITE 20 YEARS PASSING?

Athena and Ody's mindsets swapping? Athena apologizing and asking Ody to be her equal? Ody telling her that he just wants to be with his family for the rest of his days. Ody doesn't care if he's known or hated. He just wants to make up for lost time and never part from his loved ones again

Epic the Musical has always been about love. The love of a man for his wife and son. The love of a man for storytelling and mythology. The love of a fandom for the storyteller. Jorge, you absolute mad lad. We love you so much. Thank you for this retelling

[theknightlywolfe]

I would love for all three countries to retaliate by just quietly refusing to work with the US anymore. US ships want to go through the canal? Sorry, no can do.

Oh, you want to drive your truck from Washington, through Canada, to Alaska. Sorry, road is under construction after Beaver Creek. Yup, gonna be closed for a while.

Sorry, you want to holiday in Greenland? Sorry, we're having issues with our system, US passports are flagging up as illegitimate. You're going to need to make alternate arrangements to another country while we figure this out.

And then when businesses and people start looking around to wonder what the hell is going on, they'll run face first into the Trump "we're gonna buy that country" BS and know it is all his fault.

And because it was all done very quietly but completely, when he loses his temper and goes on a rant threatening war over the insult, most people will have zero idea what he is talking about and just think he is an even bigger idiot.

The people using this expansionist rhetoric, and those in the media who are downplaying its use, should be wiped from the face of the planet.

No peace for tyrants.

[apomaro-mellow]

For Steddie Bingo how about some Regency!AU? 🎩

Steddie Bingo Prompt: Regency AU

Next to him, the lady clapped loudly. Her name might have been Mary or Mary Anne, he couldn't quite recall. There was a din of applause around him, in fact. One that he chose not to join in.

"You didn't enjoy the play?", Mary-something asked.

"Plays are not quite to my taste", Steve said.

"Don't take him so serious", Nathaniel said from the other side of her. "He's in the middle of a feud with one of the actors."

"Who?"

Steve blocked them out as Nathaniel told all of his business. His eyes were on that one certain actor, dressed and made up like Puck. His intense stare could have been mistaken for ire. It all worked in his favor. No one had any idea what he truly felt for the actor or his work.

As usual, after the show, Nathaniel had the actors back in his home. He liked the novelty. And they were natural entertainers. Even off the stage, they liked to tell jokes and sing songs and fill the house with noise late into the night. And just as every time that Steve was invited to join, he spent most of the evening, either glaring distantly or very brazenly antagonizing one man in particular.

Edward Munson was born to be on stage. He lavished in having eyes on him. Even when Steve insulted his performance in front of a crowd. Steve had a drink in his hand and was leaning against the bookshelf, watching as Edward dazzled people on the piano.

"You really enjoy being the center of attention, don't you?", Steve spoke up when the song finished.

"Ah, here comes the ever dower Mr. Harrington", Edward played a few foreboding notes on the keys.

Steve pushed off the bookshelf and stalked towards him. "I suppose I just don't find any joy watching you parade yourself."

"As opposed to being paraded on someone else's leash?"

"Perhaps you shouldn't be let out of the house at all."

"And deprive the world of my talents?" To punctuate, Edward played a more chipper tune.

"You call that talent?"

"No, Mr. Harrington. This is talent." Edward began to play a slow melody, one that changed the entire atmosphere of the room. Then he began to sing, his warm voice filling the air.

Steve wasn't surprised that he had enthralled an entire room. He wasn't surprised that Edward could change genres so easily. He'd seen him in plenty of roles by now, both comedic and tragic. The first time he'd seen him, he was bringing the crowd to tears as Juliet.

When the song ended, Steve backed off with a scoff and the night's entertainments continued. It was still going on as tonight turned into tomorrow and they were able to use the noise to hide as they ran off together in one of the rooms.

"You are an incurable bitch”, Edward said.

“Last week, I was ‘incorrigible’.” Steve set his drink, nearly empty, onto a desk in the room. “Don’t you love me anymore?”

“Incurable, incorrigible, incredible, your ability to bitch knows no bounds and it makes my desire grow for you each day.” Edward closed the distance and kissed him before pushing him onto the chaise.

“You still make very little sense to me”, Steve said as his lover climbed on top of him.

“Dealing in absurdity is an actor’s trade, my dear. But you make perfect sense to me.”

They traded no more words then. Because while he was a master orator, the stage had also taught Edward to be fluent in body language as well.

@steddiebingo

Bingo card:

[brofightiscancelled]

yapping about how i approached translating karamatsu's brand new world. just discussing the localization liberties i took and other things i think are interesting. i just love yapping sorry

part 1/4 because i forgot about tumblr post image limits lol

establishing my ethos: im still learning japanese but have been translating (chinese -> english) for over 7 years, so my translation skill is higher than my japanese skill. if there's anything i get wrong here pls point it out!!! i usually translate mostly songs, anime (donghua), and manga

The Title

japanese has multiple alphabets: 2 phonetic ones and 1 derived from chinese characters (kanji) that dont tell you anything about how they're pronounced

kanji characters have multiple pronunciations. for example, 心 can be pronounced "kokoro" or "shin" depending on the context it's used in.

"how do you know which kanji pronunciation to use" you guess. alternatively, media geared towards children (who have lower language skills) will sometimes spell out the right pronunciation above the kanji in little letters

sometimes people will just make up their own pronunciations for kanji for Style Points, in which case they will also spell out the intended pronunciation above the kanji

so this title actually reads "matsuno karamatsu's brand new morning". however the Style Points pronunciation guidelines indicated that this is pronounced "Brand New World". i deliberated over this for a while and ended up going with "brand new world" because the phonetic pronunciation is in english so i assume this would be the preferred title for an english localization. unfortunately this did lose the interesting double reading of "morning" and "world" but sometimes it just be like that.

Chapter 1

every time choro says something about the chopsticks in this first part, he's repeating the same thing each time: "Stop [pointing with your] chopsticks". but this 1. doesn't sound very natural in english, and 2. is too long to fit into these speech bubbles.

translations often have to take liberties due to the medium. in anime subtitles, they need to consider how fast a watcher can read the subtitles. in manga, it's often about how many words they can fit in a vertical text bubble.

the underlying impression is that choro is annoyed he even has to tell oso to stop pointing with his chopsticks (this is common sense, you're a grown ass man, why don't you know table manners, etc), so i tried to write it in a way like he's saying it short and snippy like an annoyed mom who has already reminded you 5000 times about this exact thing: Chopsticks.

oso calls totty "あざとい" here after hearing that he's trying out pancakes at a new cafe. as far as i can tell, this roughly translates to "cunning" or "sly" and is used to describe women kinda derogatorily, like a girl at the office who speaks harshly to the women but sweettalks to men (like tsunoda from aggretsuko).

i couldnt really think of a natural-sounding equivalent to this implication in english, so i settled on the kind of close "coquettish" to get across that oso is calling totty girly in a strange and insulting way. oso's dialogue here literally goes something like "sly.... you really are sly...", but since "coquettish" is kind of a weird word to use in english, i ended up localizing this around to suit my weird word choice to make it sound like oso was thinking for a second about the right word to call totty, which i also think comes off as a little more natural-sounding

japanese (and chinese) have a plural second-person pronoun, but english doesn't (besides y'all, which i did use in oso's dialogue earlier lol) which is a real headache and almost always needs some creative thinking to get sounding Normal. this was a relatively straightforward case: "how would a father address his sons as a collective?" -> "Boys"

CHAPTER 2

the dreaded jp onomatopoeia without an english equivalent. im lucky that these boys' whole gimmick is being from an old cartoon so i could get away with the very cartoony "honk" sound effect for "blowing one's nose".

the source material always translates イタい as "painful" so i do it too but i wish osmt had come out like just a few years later when "cringe" was in the common vernacular because it's a way better localization. in my opinion.

also a minor note: in the first bubble totty is actually repeating kara's words back at him "someone's? watching? me?", which is made clera by him using kara's self-pronoun (オレ) and not his own self-pronoun (ボク) (if you don't know about self-pronouns i will talk about them more in a future note). however this nuance is lost in english and could be misconstrued so i just went and made it so he's repeating back what kara said but not using the exact words

"頭おかし" does literally translate to "strange in the head" but colloquially just means "insane" or "crazy". but ichi is being really harsh to kara here, and kara does start questioning his mental sanity later in the chapter, so i went with a more harsh translation here that specifically references the head. also "YOU'RE INSANE" does unintentionally have a different meaning to most of us here on tumblr dot com, doesnt it lol

i dont know what the consensus is on giving iyami a french accent when localizing him. it's probably overkill to do both this AND keep the zansus. however i cant convey a mid-atlantic accent in writing so this is my next best way to convey that iyami talks very strangely. also it's funny

this panel was really hard to redraw. please clap

anyways same use of "strange" here as before with the head thing ("crazy") but it can also have the vibe of "abnormal". i thought "is something wrong with me?" helped convey both these meanings. come to think of it later in chapter 6 i translate okashi very literally as "strange". maybe i shouldve said "is something wrong with me" there, too....

CHAPTER 3

jyushi literally says "why do we do the olympics?" here. i localized it this way because it means essentially the same thing and is funnier. dats the art of translation babyyyyy

japanese personal pronouns quick rundown: in english we tell others to refer to us as different pronouns- him, her, they, etc., but we only have one pronoun to refer to ourselves with (I). japanese has many self-pronouns, and which one you use to describe yourself with is usually based around context and personality (some pronouns are more polite to use than others, some give off the connotation of being stuck-up or of being a country bumpkin, etc). this is helpful for characterization and also being able to tell who is talking through written dialogue

we aren't meant to know who this figure is at first, but we're also meant to have the clues to figure it out (if you were to investigate, you would find that f6 oso is the only one with full black gloves and knee high boots).

oso usually uses the masculine self-pronoun 俺, which is a rude and casual pronoun very fitting of the slacker eldest. however, f6 oso, a reliable and polite dreamboat, uses 僕, a polite and proper masculine pronoun (normal choro uses this pronoun). so this pronoun use masks the identity of this mysterious figure- but if you looked into it, you'd be able to see that this does link up to f6 oso. it's also possible the artist didnt know this and just went with 僕 to fit the fairytale prince vibe here though lol

i have no way to convey this in english so all of this is just lost nuance in translation. womp womp.

for the record these are the boys' personal pronouns:

oso: 俺 (ore can convey that he's rude, kanji alphabet can convey .... he's old-fashioned, possibly? shrugs?)

kara: オレ(ore can convey that he's full of himself, katakana alphabet can convey that he's [trying to be] stylish or loud)

choro:　僕 (boku can convey that he's polite, kanji can convey that he's proper)

ichi:　おれ (ore can convey a kinda casual-lazy vibe, hiragana alphabet can convey that he's soft-spoken kinda?)

jyushi:　ぼく (boku can convey that he's Just A Little Guy, hiragana alphabet can convey that he's childish)

totty:　ボク (boku can convey that he's Just A Little Guy, katakana alphabet can convey that he's [trying to be] stylish and modern)

CHAPTER 4

demonstration of localization for the medium: totty's dialogue here translates most literally to "What are you talking about?", but "talking" and "about" are pretty long words that are hard to fit into that skinny dialogue bubble. "the hell are you on about?" conveys the same thing, has shorter words that are nicer to fit into a bubble, and also shows a bit more personality (and i think is a little funnier).

this part ends here becaues i forogt about the tumblr post limit. i will continue in future posts

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

[procyonloser]

Adam tapped his foot, tired of fucking waiting for Lilith to show up. So fucking what if she was pregnant, he had responsibilities too. Don't fucking make the appointment if you're going to be too knocked up to show up.

Also, Adam thought, it was already a giant fucking insult that she was lording her pregnancy over him for the second fucking time. Wasn't one demon spawn enough? No, she had to go and brag that she was getting creamed by Lucifer. How did she think he felt? He used to be the one having entirely uninteresting sex with her. Fucking stupid.

He was getting ready to leave, when the doors opened and in walked a figure. Adam nearly choked on his own tongue, sitting up right and going wide eyed. Lucifer? He'd not seen him in person since he'd fallen. He'd never come to a single meeting, apparently never deeming Adam important enough to face.

Adam opened his mouth, but he'd never seen Lucifer look like this before. There was a shadow on his face, and his expression was empty - hollow.

"Lilith isn't coming," Lucifer said, voice void of all tone. "I'm cancelling the meeting."

Adam let the words sink in, before he spluttered and stood, slamming his hands down on the table. "You're cancelling the- fuck you! Fuck Lilith! You don't get to just string me along afuckingain, and do whatever you and your cunt wife-"

"She's dead, Adam." Lucifer cut him off, meeting his eyes. While his face was empty, his eyes weren't. There was a storm in them, all encompassing that pulled Adam into his grief, his pain. "She didn't survive child birth. She... She tried, but she... There was too much blood."

It was true, when you died, you saw all your memories flash before you, your entire life playing out - but Adam hadn't realized it was similarly true when someone else died, to have all of your memories of that person come to the surface. Adam suddenly remembered playing in a stream with Lilith, splashing her, laughing with her, when they'd both been new and happy.

"... Did the kid survive?" Adam asked after a long minute, picturing Charlie, an adult now, but what little of her he'd seen, she looked for all the world like a perfect mix of her parents.

"... Yes, it was...twins, boys." Lucifer said, and the first cracks across his face happened. "I need to go back to...I need to go back."

Adam said nothing, his own thoughts shifting to his own twins, about losing Abel and Cain. He said nothing.

Lucifer turned, and went to the door, his steps short and stuttering, as though he was forcing himself to take each one. He didn't turn around when he spoke.

"... I'm sorry, Adam."

The doors fell closed and the room grew dark. Adam pulled off his helmet, and looked up towards the clouds in the sky above Heaven.

[kinzhae]

Hi hiiii! Okay so... I'm not quite sure if you accept like request and all but i enjoyed your vlog so much cause been craving for Gojo angst that hurts my heart and i love it 😭😭

And i have this idea... You know Toga Himiko right? So like i have this idea in mind where Gojo neglected the reader, like the bully fic you made? And so, in the end Gojo was like dyin (In his teens where he still didn't know RCT). Reader having the same power as Toga Himiko so yeah you know what happens next.

That episode ached my heart so much that i cried and i kinda wanna see it in Gojo x reader part. You don't have to make it just sayin my idea and all 😅

Omgg hello, you are actually the first person who requested to write something so ofc I will do it. I didnt continue watching MHA after season 2 so I might not capture Toga Himiko's quirk that well </3 but I still tried and hoping you will like it.

Note: it ended with a slight angst.

Past Wound That Will Never Change

The world had always been cruel to those who were different, and you learned that lesson early. Your cursed technique was rare, one that made people uneasy. By consuming the blood of others, you could take on their appearance and, to a degree, their abilities. It was powerful, yes, but it was also isolating. People whispered behind your back, called you a parasite, and avoided you like a curse waiting to manifest.

Gojo Satoru, of course, had been the worst of them all.

He wasn’t just cruel; he was relentless. With his unmatched abilities and natural charisma, he had no reason to think twice about how his words or actions might hurt you. To him, you were a joke, a walking anomaly he could poke fun at when life at Jujutsu High grew dull.

“You ever think about how creepy you are?” he’d say, his friends laughing along. “Like, do you just look at someone and think, ‘Wow, I wanna drink their blood’? That’s disgusting, man.”

The words stung every time. You tried to fight back, to pretend his insults didn’t matter, but he had a way of cutting deeper than anyone else. The more you tried to stand your ground, the more he mocked you.

“You’re not even a real sorcerer,” he said once, his voice dripping with disdain. “You just leech off of everyone else. What’s the point of keeping you around?”

No one defended you. Geto sometimes gave you a pitying glance, but even he didn’t dare go against Gojo. They were close friends after all. You were utterly alone, and every day felt like a battle you were losing.

It all came to a head during a mission gone wrong. You’d been sent out with Gojo and another student to exorcise a particularly nasty curse. Things had been going well until Gojo, confident as ever, underestimated the enemy. The curse turned its attention on you, nearly killing you in the process. You barely managed to survive, but when the dust settled, Gojo shrugged it off like it was nothing.

“You’re fine,” he said, his tone dismissive. “Stop being so dramatic.”

That was the moment something inside you broke. That night, you packed your things and left Jujutsu High without a word. If they thought you were a parasite, then so be it. You would survive on your own terms, far away from their judgmental eyes.

---

Years passed, and you became someone entirely different. The pain of your past hardened into a cold resolve. You used your cursed technique without restraint, earning a reputation as a rogue sorcerer. People feared you, and for the first time in your life, you felt powerful. You no longer cared about proving yourself to anyone. You lived by your own rules, taking what you needed and leaving destruction in your wake.

But fate had a twisted sense of humor.

You found him in the ruins of a cursed battlefield, slumped against a crumbling wall, his once-pristine uniform soaked with blood. Gojo Satoru, the untouchable, was dying.

He looked up at you with bleary eyes, his usual confidence replaced by something fragile.

“Figures,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “Of all people… it had to be you.”

You stared at him, your emotions a tangled mess of anger, bitterness, and something you didn’t want to name. He looked so different now—vulnerable in a way you’d never imagined. For a brief moment, you considered leaving him there. It would be poetic, wouldn’t it? Letting him die alone, just like he’d left you to fend for yourself all those years ago.

But you couldn’t do it.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you said coldly, kneeling beside him. “I’m not doing this for you.

He didn’t respond, too weak to argue. His blood pooled around him, staining the ground a deep crimson. You bit into your hand, drawing your own blood, and then leaned down to press your lips to his wound. The metallic taste filled your mouth as your cursed technique activated, his power flooding into you.

It was overwhelming. For a brief moment, you were the strongest, the infinite possibilities of his Limitless technique unfurling in your mind. You used it to heal his wounds, channeling his power with a precision that surprised even you. When it was done, you pulled away, wiping your mouth as you staggered to your feet.

Gojo sat up slowly, testing his limbs. He looked at you, his expression unreadable.

“You saved me,” he said quietly.

“Don’t read into it,” you snapped. “If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

He frowned, guilt flickering across his face. “Why? After everything I—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice sharp. “You don’t get to apologize. Not after what you did.”

He fell silent, his usual arrogance nowhere to be found. For once, he looked small, almost fragile.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was a fool back then. I didn’t—”

“Stop,” you said, your tone icy. “I don’t want your apology. I don’t need it. Just live with it, Gojo. Live with what you did.”

You turned and walked away, leaving him sitting there, his words hanging in the air. He didn’t try to stop you. He didn’t call after you. He simply watched as you disappeared into the distance, the weight of his guilt settling over him like a shroud.

---

Gojo recovered, but the encounter haunted him. He searched for you, hoping for a chance to make amends, but you were always one step ahead, always out of reach. The guilt of what he had done to you lingered, a constant reminder of his failures. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t fix what he had broken.

You, on the other hand, continued to live on your own terms. Saving him hadn’t changed anything. It hadn’t softened the bitterness in your heart or erased the scars he left behind. You didn’t forgive him, and you didn’t need to.

In the end, the past was a wound neither of you could heal. He was left to carry the weight of his guilt, while you carried the scars of his cruelty.