#will i still be dazed and confused in life?

[daeholuvs]

“All I Ever Wanted” Cho Sang-Woo x fem!reader

hey so… no one make fun of my writing skills it has been a LONGGGGGG time. I will probably end up deleting this (i definitely will) i just love sang-woo and needed this imagine to come to life. Anyway guys pleak don’t make fun of me bc I will probably go into hiding 😊😊 A girl can only take so much criticism, also if ANYONE has done this creds to them!!!!! I just thought of this last night and I #needthat

There you stood. Happy, sad, excited, confused? Scared. You were scared. Your eyes fixated on the sight before you, a positive pregnancy test. You were late and that never happens so you bought a test to be sure . What if Sang-Woo isn’t ready for a baby? What if he isn’t excited? What if he doesn’t want to be a father? Your thoughts were soon interrupted when you heard the angelic voice of your loving husband.

“Y/N, sweetheart I’m home!”

You came downstairs and Sang-Woo pulled you into a warm hug and planted a sweet kiss to your lips, the kind of kiss that makes you feel like a silly high school girl.

He started to remove his coat as he spoke “You would not believe the kind of day I had. First my meeting with the board went wrong all because some intern spilled coffee on-“ he cut himself off as he noticed that you weren’t your optimistic self, you didn’t chime in as you normally would . He scanned your face as if he could read your mind, trying to solve the puzzles in your head.

“Y/N, baby, talk to me” he waved a hand in your face and you came out of your daze seeing a very concerned Sang-Woo looking back at you. You brushed him off and told him to continue his story.

About an hour has passed and you decided to start preparing dinner to ease your mind. As you were stirring the pot you felt a warm embrace come from behind you. Your adoring husband pulled you into a hug from behind.

He left soft kisses in the crook of your neck and whispered sweet nothings to you as he nibbled on your ear.

You both ate dinner with an awkward silence taking possession of the room. He still noticed something was bothering you, but he didn’t want to push your buttons so the silence continued.

As you both finished washing the dishes, Sang-Woo excused himself to go wash up. He began to wash up but he noticed a foreign object lying underneath his wife’s old hand towel.

As curious as he is, he tossed the towel aside and discovered the pregnancy test. He stared in awe, daydreaming about fatherhood, about how beautiful you would look during your pregnancy, about how much he would love his future daughter or son.

He slipped the test into his pocket and called out your name.

“Coming, I’m just putting away our glasses” and with that you walked up into your bedroom. Sang-Woo sat at the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to him, signalling for you to join him.

Without another word he placed the test into your hand and smiled at you. You felt your stomach drop. Anxious thoughts overtaking this intimate moment.

“Sang-Woo I was going to tell you I swear! I only found out today and I didn’t know how to tell you. I promise I wasn’t trying to hide this from you. I didn’t know if you would be mad or happy or-“

Your nervous rambling was cut short when a soft chuckle erupted from your husband’s chest. He continued to laugh at your cuteness. “Honey why would I be mad” he started to trace patterns your thigh soothingly.

“It’s just we’ve only been married a year and you’re so busy with your job, I just- I didn’t want to distract you from your career”

“Oh Y/N, a family with you is all I ever dreamed of. I can picture it now; me and you attending our children’s soccer games, science fairs, ballet recitals, graduations, weddings, and literally any event because our children will be little overachievers like me” You giggled at his last statement “All I ever wanted was to start a family with the woman of my dreams and here we are. I could never be mad about this”

You couldn’t help but become emotional after your husband’s words. Tears formed in your eyes and you smiled. You both got ready for bed early, deciding the only important thing was to prepare for your little bundle of joy. Sang-Woo even went as far as booking a doctor’s appointment for you first thing in the morning. You continued to discuss your future with your baby and couldn’t be more excited.

[anghraine]

The household Star Trek watch just hit The Wrath of Khan! I've seen it multiple times before, but it was really different to watch it so shortly after watching TOS and TMP.

My feelings are ... more complex now. Where Spock's character growth was randomly rewound in TMP for unexplained reasons, Wrath of Khan!Spock feels so much more the Spock he was becoming in TOS. He's older, steadier, and far less repressed while still retaining the composure and dignity that are so personally and culturally important to him. His sense of humor is still dry but less buried and harsh, he's reserved and unflinching in a very Spock way but it feels healthier and more integrated than anything he was capable of in TOS. I don't get the impression that he's at all ashamed of what he feels for Kirk at this point, nor ashamed of the strain of human qualities in himself.

I feel like we see how far Spock has come from his early shame and denial, for instance, when Kirk, McCoy, and Saavik go to beam to the research base. There's this less-repressed-than-formerly-but-still-powerful intensity between Kirk and Spock that, as ever, gives the distinct sense that everyone else just ceased to exist for them. Spock says outright, "Be careful, Jim" and it's very adorable and relatively open by Spock standards. And then professional hater McCoy is like ... oh, so am I chopped liver? while Saavik is just ????? and it's hilarious and just feels very recognizable.

I do think this film is kinder to McCoy than TMP and I appreciate seeing him quietly do his work as a doctor instead of haunting the bridge and needling Kirk and Spock, but he's a fairly muted presence in the film and still finds time to be a bigot. Not going to lie, it's incredibly cathartic when Spock uses his own prejudices against him and then tricks him into... uh, well, everything that's going to happen.

After all these years, Wrath of Khan!Saavik remains an absolute delight. She's trying so hard and Alley gives this great sense of a million thoughts going through her head at all times. It's really fun to see a very young Vulcan who isn't even pretending to have it all figured out, despite her rattling off rules and regulations. One of my favorite Saavik moments is when she's like "*gasp* You lied" in the most classic gifted-student-discovering-the-world way and Spock serenely replies, "I exaggerated."

(Spock is truly living his best life. I do not think this Spock has the slightest desire to be anywhere but where he is or anything but what he is, and it makes me very happy until aghghghhhhhaghhghgh.)

But anyway, Spock and Saavik have this really charming and understated mentor-protégée relationship that I like best in this iteration. (I don't care for the direction it goes in later for uhhh related reasons, but Alley's Saavik plays off of Nimoy—especially—and Shatner very enjoyably.)

Kirk is difficult for me, because the Kirk of the films in general just feels so far removed from TOS Kirk to me when he's not interacting with Spock. Yes, there's a familiarity evoked by Shatner's performances, and Kirk is compelling in this film, but ... it's a better film for Shatner than Kirk, if that makes sense? Shatner is genuinely quite good in it!

For one, I always forget that the hammy KHAN!!!!! is part of a cunning scheme in which Kirk is much more subtly slipping information to Spock and the frustrated rage is a performance for Khan, hammiest man in the universe. In reality, Kirk has a bunch of dialed-down emotional moments—the way he's quietly frustrated with Carol excising him from their son's life but still maintaining an amicable-exes relationship with her, for instance. But of course, the big one is Spock's death scene, especially that dreadful moment after Spock dies when Kirk just slumps against the radiation chamber looking almost confused in the way that grief really can just daze someone into that "puppet with the strings cut" quality. It's genuinely a heartrending moment.

For my ultra-Trekkie best friend J, Kirk's eulogy for Spock is the part that affects him most of all. And I get it! People tend to point to the twitchy "the most... human" part of it, but the most effective part for me is when Kirk is quoting Spock in the eulogy and saying he won't disrespect Spock's profound greatness by disputing his argument now, and he's clearly trying to be dignified and professional in a way Spock merits despite his own devastation, and then there's this shudder in his voice that is fantastic (and just, agggh). And I think "the most human" is pretty clearly not meant as a denial of Spock's Vulcanness, but an absolute rejection of virtually everyone's incessant treatment of Spock as subhuman for the crime of being biracial. Lots of good Shatner moments all around, though.

But.

So much of what's going on with Kirk's character arc seems grounded in what's established internally in the films and just overwriting major aspects of his TOS characterization and history. I dislike David Marcus for a ... lot of the film, and like, I appreciate him taking the initiative to set things right and acknowledge his misjudgment of his unexpectedly cool and newly bereaved father. But the approach being "I guess you never have really faced death before and having to process it is new for you" is extremely WTF when Kirk at this point has survived a genocide, lost much of his family including a brother and sister-in-law he seemed to be quite close to, has lost various good friends, there was the whole Edith Keeler thing among other losses he just had to keep powering through, and then at this point the person he has acknowledged as the closest person to him in the universe (one who had a significantly longer natural lifespan than him!) is also now dead.

And movie Kirk is like—yeah, I always came up with some trick to avoid ever facing death directly and I'm like WHAT. WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT. THIS IS OBJECTIVELY FALSE. But the movie absolutely does not treat it that way! I do like David nervously turning back and acknowledging that he's proud of Kirk and the hug after such a monumental loss, but ... at what price.

This feels especially glaring because of the moments where we do get a pragmatic, reasonable Kirk whose priorities make perfect sense for his previous backstory, like:

DAVID: We appear to have plenty of time. KIRK: Is there anything to eat? I don't know about anyone else, but I'm starved. MCCOY: How can you think of food at a time like this? KIRK: First order of business, survival.

But it's important to his arc in the film that he's constitutionally unwilling to endure the weight of unwinnable scenarios, and is almost defined by being all about winning against any odds, and that's very weird to me. Kirk has always been determined and resourceful and cunning, yes—and we do get some of that here; he plays Khan like a fucking fiddle almost the whole time—but the possibility of loss never struck me as something he was refusing to contemplate.

Carol's dry line about how Kirk has never been a Boy Scout feels pretty specific to movie Kirk and pop culture Kirk, too. TOS Kirk is repeatedly described as having been solemn and bookish in early adulthood. Even in his thirties, he's not generally a maverick IMO; he won't subordinate all critical thinking and judgment to regulations, but he prefers to find some way to reconcile them if he can. His overriding driving motive is most often his sense of responsibility—to his crew, their ship, their mission, and the principles of the Federation and his brand of philosophical humanism. If he's got to break regulations to fulfill his deeper responsibilities, he will, but he'd much rather not!

You know who in TOS very much does have it in him to jeopardize everything out of loose cannon determination to blast through every obstacle unlucky enough to get in the way of his absolute refusal to accept loss? Spock. Spock risks the lives of hundreds of people in desperate and improbable attempts to get Kirk back, multiple times! In the context of his culture and even of Starfleet, he is far more of a maverick than Kirk ever was in TOS.

I know this sounds more negative than I want to be, because I'm very fond of this movie in its own right, and Kirk does have some fantastic Kirk-ly moments. We do get a strong sense of Kirk's intelligence and resourcefulness without TMP's device of everyone ganging up on him for reasons presented as sort of justifiable despite his completely accurate judgment of the urgency of the situation. But I'm reminded of the "Kirk drift" article about how post-TOS representations of Kirk seem to become increasingly representations of the idea of who Kirk was in TOS rather than having much to do with any particular details of Kirk's actual characterization in TOS.

[michi-chelle]

the fact that i’ll be 26 by the time jock studio comes out has me shook

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

it’s been over five months and every time i put my necklaces on i still think about that time miles kane specifically came over to me and told me how much he liked them 🙈

[age-of-moonknight]

Night Moves. Marvel Superheroes: Official Game Adventure (Vol. 1/1990), pg. 19.

Designer: Anthony Herring; Editor: Karen S. Boomgarden; Illustrator: John Statema

[peachsukii]

— emergency contact

it’s been two years since you’ve seen your ex-boyfriend, and didn’t plan on changing that anytime soon. a nasty villain fight lands you in the hospital during an overnight patrol and leaves you unable to tell the doctors who to call in your dazed state.

✮ content. late 20s. ex-boyfriend bakugo, hospitalization, sappy confessions & second chances. distance makes the heart grow fonder kind of deal.

『 #reis softie sundays 』

Sharp, shooting pain down your back and a desperate cry from your partner ⎯ that was the only thing you remember from the last…four hours? Time is becoming illusive at this point, blending together with how fast everything unraveled around you.

Were you injured on patrol? Did that villain slip through your fingers and escape? Where was your partner in all this chaos?

“Doctor, she’s waking up,” you hear in the distance, muffled but clear enough to understand. A nurse walks into your blurred vision, a soft smile on her lips. “Hi hon, you’re in the hospital. We’re taking you to your room now, hang tight.”

All you can manage to do is nod in acknowledgement, the world spinning on its axis and making you extremely dizzy. Your eyes fall closed, a hazy sleep welcoming you in seconds.

When you wake next, you're not quite sure how much time has passed. The room sits in darkness, the only sources of light coming from the moon outside the window and the various machines chirping around you. There's a static in your head, as if you're stuck on a radio frequency that hasn't been adjusted to the correct channel. Even with all the noise in your head, a familiar voice can be heard outside in the hallway, one you'd never mistake for anyone else.

"It's late," a nurse says, presumably trying to convince him to go home. "Are you sure you want to stay? We can try her other contacts again in a few hours."

"M'sure. Do I need'ta sign in or whatever?"

"No, that's alright. I'll notate it on her chart and let the front desk know. I'll be back in a bit and we can talk more about treatment."

The door slides open to prove you're not imagining things ⎯ your ex isn't a manifestation of your delirious state. Bakugo's standing in the dim light of the hallway, tip toeing inside and shutting the door as quietly as possible. When his eyes fall upon your hospital bed, he notices that you're awake and sighs. "Been awhile."

You don't have the energy to do this dance with him, to go back and forth with lightheartedness like old times. "Why are you here?"

His lips press into a straight line, jaw clenched tight as he seems to silently ask himself the same question. He makes his way over to the bed, taking a seat at the edge by your feet. "I'm still one of your emergency contacts in your hero file."

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. There's no way you haven't updated your database profile in two years...right? Bakugo catches onto your confusion and explains before you have a chance to press him further on the matter. "M'the only one who answered."

What time was it, anyways? Your eyes bounce around the room swiftly to find a wall clock. You squint a bit to read it, finally making out the numbers. 4:30...am?

"What did they call you for?" you yawn, rubbing the exhaustion out of your eyes. "I don't even know what happened."

He takes a deep breath as a large hand finds your thigh, resting atop the thin blanket. His touch makes you want to melt into a puddle, memories of your past relationship coming back in waves.

"They didn't tell me much, only that it was life or death. Thankfully, your ass chose life." He shakes his head, a quiet huff escaping him. "Somethin' about a villain's poison quirk. Ya got hit in the spine and it paralyzed you temporarily, an' you fell from someplace high up. Your partner caught ya and the paramedics got to you just in time."

Oh. Well, that explains the pain from earlier.

"But why did you answer their call, Baku⎯" you cut yourself off to correct his name as it leaves your lips. "Katsuki?"

"I'm not heartless, just 'cause we haven't talked in ages doesn't mean I don't care about ya."

You shift in your bed a bit, eyes gravitating toward the window to avoid his gaze. Truth be told, you two ended on decent terms and not maliciously. Wrong place, wrong time...at least, that's what you two chalked it up to. You were both too busy with hero work, too absent from each other's lives to properly be a couple. After a year, you convinced yourself that you were satisfied watching him from afar, catching brief glimpses of his life through interviews and news reports. That was your excuse, a cowardly way to keep him out of reach and prevent you, and him, from getting distracted.

"Hey." Bakugo's fingers squeeze your thigh to recollect your attention, the blanket crumpling under his palm. You're terrified to look at him, knowing full well that in your battered state, you'll crumble like stone if he says anything remotely sweet. Those vermillion eyes of his always had a way of making you weak ⎯ soft. "I was thinkin' on my way over here that I should'a called ya, reached out to keep in touch. M'sorry for not doin' that."

"It's...fine," you stammer out, a shaky hand coming up to wave off his concern. "We don't have to talk about that now."

"I don't wanna only talk to you when you're hurt, or worse..." he trails off, screwing his eyes shut to avoid the dread lingering in his chest. "Look. What m'gettin' at is you scared the shit outta me, and it made me realize that I've got a lot to say after all these years."

Oh boy, you brace yourself for impact, expecting the explosive nature to come pouring out any second. But, it never comes.

Before you could stop him, Bakugo's on his feet and leaning over the bed, arms slung around your shoulders to pull you close. A strange but familiar veil of comfort drapes over you in the moment, pulling on your heartstrings. Your eyes begin to sting when the words he whispers finally reach your ears. "M'done usin' hero work as an excuse to avoid you. I wanna talk this shit out...when you're ready. I'd love to make ya dinner again."

You can't help but let out a breathless laugh, arms finally coming up to return his hug. "Only if you promise to make your special katsudon. I've been craving it for weeks."

He chuckles over your shoulder, squeezing you a bit tighter in response. "Deal."

Who knew that a villain was what you two needed to face your fears, to finally admit that the spark was never smothered into nothingness. And this time, something tells you that you'll both make damn sure it stays ablaze.

happy softie sunday!! I know it's been awhile since I've written one. hope you don't mind some baku-sap :)

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[darkstaria]

Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal Au.

Chapter 6:

Summary: After being ambushed previously in Gotham's streets, you awake alone and afraid, in a strange building.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 7.

----

A furious pounding beat at your skull, a liquid of some kind dripped down from your head. You blinked your eyes open, greeted by what could only be some kind of warehouse.

You were in a daze, barely recognising what was in front of you. What vision you had was muddled by pain and your hearing was drowned out by a piercing beat in your ears.

What...?

You could hardly think.

The world was a messy tsunami of pain and confusion. That is... Until a flash of green, white and red beamed into your eyes, a sneering smile on its face.

You gasped. Breath caught in your throat, as your chin was caught in his hand.

The Joker.

"HahahahahahaHAHAHAHA!" The laugh echoed throughout the building as your surprise turned into shakes. The hand left go as Joker's chortle turned into a full laugh, but that was hardly a relief.

This was, quite literally, the worst situation you could have ever gotten into. Out of everyone who would have an interest in Batman's soulmate, why must it be him?

You instinctively try to move, but soon realise you've been restrained, ropes tying you down to an iron chair. They don't budge.

The stomping of shoes drew your attention back to him, as the Joker approached you again.

"Well now." He began, a beaming grin stretching his face. "Lookie what we have here. You know, I was having a wonderful night, finally out on the town, able to meet all my old friends again. Then I meet you, and you know what I think?"

He rested a hand on your shoulder. You fought a shiver.

"What a... great new friend?" You try. You go for a smile of your own. You're certain it looks more like a grimace.

A mocking laugh is his response. Then, with a sudden twist, his hands grasp your collar, bringing you to his eye level. The movement forces you against the ropes that constrict your stomach, suffocating you.

"I find... a sniveling little brat, that just so happens, TO HAVE A BAT PROTECTING-"

A screech cuts him off, a flurry of wings diving directly into his face, what you could barely make out as a beak aimed at his eyes. The pain you're under causes you to take a moment to understand what's going on, as Joker swings a crowbar at the flying figure.

It was... Hood. Pecking and clawing at the Joker, doing whatever it could to draw him away. And it was working too.

That is, until Joker pressed down on his flower, causing a spray of gas to surge outward directly into Hood's line of flight. It slowed it down, a pause as Hood squawked in pain. A pause that was swiftly taken advantage of, as Joker swung a brutal arc into Hood, the crowbar sending the bird flying across the room and into a crumpled pile on the ground.

"No!" The scream tore itself out of you, a primal sort of agony you never thought you would ever feel after you had withdrawn from thoughts of your soulmates. It was like losing him all over again. Vigilante or not, Hood was a bird. Birds didn't typically survive a hit from a crowbar. If Hood died here, what would you do? One of the connections that had tormented you all your life, over just like that.

The scream drew Joker's attention back to you, a realisation that sank deeply in your throat. He approached you again, an air of casualness across his figure.

"Birds, what little pests. Good thing I always carry around pest spray." He laughs, adjusting the flower resting on his lapel. "I've always preferred bats." A thunk noise sounded out as he spoke, drawing your attention to a small cage he dropped.

It was a birdcage. Inside that birdcage was...

"Batman?!"

The bat inside was still, its gaze fixed on Joker's movements, but it did shift briefly to watch you for but a second as you spoke its name.

"Hahaha!" Joker's laugh was like nails on a chalkboard. "Turns out all you need to capture a bat is the right bait."

"How..?" You mumbled, the words unconsciously forming on your tongue due to the shock.

"Within a moment of my crowbar's acquaintance with your dear old head, Bats appeared! A bit of a nuisance at first, but a few threats at that neck of yours calmed him right down!" Joker admitted, the biggest smile you had seen yet on his face. He chuckled at the mere memory of it, as you shook in horror.

Two of your soulmates were now down. You couldn't stop shaking, horrified. All your options were dwindling and Joker looked more... murdery by the second.

Your attention was caught by a feeling of feathers brushing against your arms, the shaking making the thing touch you. You paused for a miniscule second, as you tried to think of what it was. Wait.

Was another one of your soulmates here? But rather than fight, this one was untying you? Or maybe gnawing at the ropes, whichever option was more plausible for a bird/bat.

Could you stall long enough to get out? It seemed like the only possibility left.

"Why...why do this? What enjoyment are you finding from this?" Maybe not the best line of questioning, but it was all your pounding head could come up with.

"Why?" Joker echoed, pausing for a moment. "Because I don't take kindly to cheaters. Me and Bats have something special. I dealt with my soul chain long ago, and yet! I find him cheating on me with this lousy excuse for a time waster!" He ends his shout pointing at you, a scowl on his painted face. It's possibly the worst expression you've seen on Joker yet.

"Aren't the other Robins his soulmates too? Why are you only targeting me?"

"I dealt with one of the flying rats long ago, quite a great plan if I may say so, but he just came back! I don't feel like wasting my time with this eternal game of wack-a-mole, so I've decided on a new method."

What's the method...?" You ask, reluctantly.

"You." He smiles.

He steps closer, withdrawing a gun from his pocket. "Thanks for the opportunity to capture Bats, my dear, but I've had enough of his chains getting in the way of our little game. I'll take much better care of little Batsy once you die, well, to an extent anyway! Hahaha!"

He tosses the gun up and down, carelessly as he walks towards you.

Up.

What could you do?

Down.

Hood was still crumpled in the corner, likely unconscious.

Up.

Batman was shaking the cage, unable to do anything else in its rage.

Down.

The unknown soul animal hadn't finished removing the ropes.

Across. The gun meets your temple, a few inches away from your head. You lock eyes with him. He pulls the trigger.

Pop! You flinch, coming face to face with a little Bang! flag that popped out of the gun.

You sigh, a momentary relief. You've been spared. You shift a little, feeling the ropes loosen. Your soul animal was doing its job well. You intake a few breaths, as Joker slaunters away from you, chuckling under his breath.

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to regain yourself amidst all the pain.

BANG!

"Agh-!" You jolt, shooting straight up. There's a pain in your cheek, a metallic liquid dripping down.

Turning your head ever so slightly, you spy the Bang flag lodged into the wall. It was a real gun after all.

But..

Why didn't he shoot you?

"Guns are a little too dry, don't you think?" You turn back around, immediately coming face to face with the Joker, an image that makes you flinch.

There's a crowbar in his hands.

"I don't ever repeat jokes, but, my first attempt with this weapon didn't stick too long. I don't want to lower the bar of my comedy, but maybe it'll work this time? Second time's the charm!"

"It's actually the third time.." You speak, nerves causing your words to tumble out. So that's why he didn't shoot you. He intends to make your final moments as painful as possible.

He smiles in response to your quip, lifting the bar up.

"W-wait!" You cried out, desperation pooling into whatever would give you a chance at survival. "Couldn't you do anything else?! Brainwash me, use me as a hostage, isn't it just a waste if you kill me?!" You practically scream the final words, your panic reaching a crescendo of horror.

The Joker's reply is simple.

"Nope!"

He swings.

BANG!

A bullet flies through his hand, forcing him to drop the crowbar as he pulls back.

You both turn, spotting a bulky man in black at the entrance of the warehouse.

He's wearing a red helmet.

"Joker.." The voice is deep, a threatening timbre you'd only hear replicated in nightmares.

"Let. The civilian. Go.” His gun clicks.

“Urgh. Speak of the devil.” Joker complains, unphased. “My plans are being ruined and it's not even by Bats. What is the world coming to?”

“Wait…” The Joker pauses, noticing a fallacy in the vigilantes’ words. “Civilian? Oh, HAHAHA! OHHhhh you have no idea what’s going on here do you?” The Joker snickers in delight, giving you a conniving glance.

“Oh my, oh my. I didn't realise you were also a jokester.” Joker squishes your cheeks, a little too harsh to be anything but painful. He laughs again at the expression on your face.

There's no response from the figure, but the bullet that Joker barely dodges the next second later is answer enough. It grants you and the Joker some distances, so you're grateful.

A flapping of wings draws your attention, a dark blue blur sailing through the room before landing on your lap. Nightwing.

You blink in realisation, finally understanding why not all your soul animals had appeared to help you. Wing had led one of the bats to you. You glanced over. Judging from the helmet, was this Red Hood.

Uh oh. You hoped he didn't notice Hood in the corner.

Or Batman. Or the soul animal freeing you- oh no you were absolutely screwed weren’t you?

You gulp.

“Wait.. You?” Red Hood’s modulated voice didn’t convey any emotion, but it couldn't disguise the hesitance in which he spoke.

Exposed.

“Uhmmm… no?” You tried.

Wing nuzzled your cheek. Hood’s gaze intensified.

“Okay! Okay yes, but I swear there's a reason why I never came to any of you- it wasn't because of you-” Oh dear that one was a blatant lie.

“I.. I mean, I just didn't want-” What could you do, what could you say? You didn't want to lie, but the truth wasn't good either.

In-between your frantic ramblings however, the Joker had snuck up on Red Hood, taking a lucky swing that missed by about a centimeter.

Red Hood’s retaliation was swift, the two suddenly engaging in a battle of force that was very much leaning in Red Hood’s favour. Although, ever so often Red Hood gave a wince of pain. Did Hood’s soul animal form’s state injure him slightly?

That question would go unanswered, as the ropes around you crumpled, revealing Red to be the soul animal that had been bailing you out all this time.

Well. You weren't going to get a better opportunity than this. Pushing Red and Wing off your lap, you rush out, aiming for one of the broken windows.

Batman makes a slight growling noise as you pass his birdcage. You try not to think about it.

“Hey!” A batarang flies past you, the rope attached to it meeting no target as you trip on some broken glass.

“Ah!” You mumble, surprised at your good (?) forture. There's now a cut on your leg. Great.

Red Hood is subsequently distracted from any more attempts to detain you, as the Joker takes another swing that gets a little too close for comfort in response, laughing all the while.

Clumsily falling out of the window, you thank Lady Gotham that the Joker kidnapped you on the ground floor, so there’s no drop whatsoever.

You sigh, injuries now taking a toll as the constant adrenaline was wearing off. You stumble forward.

Red and Wing land on your shoulders. Of course.

You limp out into Gotham’s alleyways, oblivious to the movement of a lithe figure on the rooftop, watching you.

----

Yeah those who guessed Joker were correct! Enjoy a cookie if you did! It seemed criminal to not have a chapter that explored how a soulmate universe would influence Batman and Joker's relationship, so that's what I did!

Oh and yeah, poor Reader. They are not having too good of a time rn. All these injuries aren't really gonna help them plead their case either.

A bit more of Jason this time too! How funnnn. I definitely feel bad for birdy Hood though. Red Hood may be super skilled but it's a little too unrealistic for him to solo as a bird :(

Taglist: @moonchild-artemisdaughter @jjsmeowthie @madine11-blog @xxrougefangxx @hadesnewpersephone @neerathebrightstar @mel-star636 @jaythes1mp @rosecentury @lov3vivian @gaozorous-rex-blog @victoria1676 @vrsin @silverklaus @ryukyuin @kurai-hono-blog @thisisafish123 @isawyourbrowserhistory @ain-t-no-way-bsfr @realifezompire @lunaluz432 @nickey-diano @sukiiluvs @sara0055 @alleakimlala @kdidgg @paperhermits @alishii @emmbny @sirenetheblogger @fantasy-angelo @andrasia @vinnvinnvintage @nyra-42 @armystaysatnct @beyond-your-stars @starsdotalk @adeptusxia0 @jailbimbo @yandereheros @sxftiebee @i-have-three-feelings @toast-on-dandelioms @lyl-3 @sitepathos @pato-spoiler-27 @ghostdoodlen @phoenixgurl030 @problematicreblogger

@sociallyakwardpanda @imaginarydreams @zanzie @yuyuzi-ling @soriansick @f1lover4ever @kiikkey @elizzsush @raincxtter @luoyi85 @yune1337 @erikasurfer @thekingofsimps @chaosbeanuwu @snowy-violet @nommingonfood @yandere-enthusiast @nb-babygirl @demonqueen-1 @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @winter67890-blog

Tumblr just told me I can't tag anyone else, so the list ends here. Hopefully I can tag the remaining people in a comment!

[d-z20]

The Agent Next Door (NSFW)

Pairing: Agent Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You don't really talk to your (extremely attractive) neighbour, Rio Vidal, until one day an accident leads to you staying at her apartment for a couple of days. And an awkward encounter results in having your fantasy come true. -OR- Rio finds you injured after you slipped and fell out the shower and decides to look after you (non-magic AU)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, blood, small injury, fluff, smut, fingering (R receiving), oral (R receiving)

Words: 3.4k

A/N: Just wanted to write a bit of Rio caring for reader and well then it turned into smut and I have no regrets. Also I have their whole relationship arc in my head now lol

AO3 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Master List

The Worst Morning Of Your Life (so far)

Rio Vidal is your neighbour. You've noticed her plenty of times before—a striking woman with a sharp, confident look that's hard to ignore. You live in the same apartment building, just across the hall from one another. Most days, your interactions are limited to polite smiles and brief chats in the elevator, her dark suit and badge often catching your eye. You've heard her phone buzz with work calls that end with her curt, professional voice. It's obvious she's someone important—serious and dedicated. You've pieced together that she's an FBI agent, but beyond that, you don't know much about her.

You can't deny that you're drawn to her, though. There's something about the way she carries herself—all self-assured and enigmatic. You've caught yourself staring a few times, your heart skipping a beat when she looks back and flashes a rare, amused smile. It's not just her looks—it's the way she moves, the air of mystery she carries, like she's seen things you could only imagine. It makes you nervous, but at the same time, you can't help but look forward to those fleeting moments when your paths cross.

One morning, your shower decides to betray you—your hot water cuts out just as you put your head under. You let out a bloodcurdling scream, quickly trying to jump out of the shower. Unfortunately for you, your foot slips on the hard floor, and you come crashing down, hitting your head on the sink, landing with a very loud thud. Dazed and confused, you are unsure if you passed out for a second there or not, but either way your head is killing you. 

"Fucking brilliant," you mutter to yourself, draping an arm across your eyes to shield them from the light.

At that moment, you heard your front door slamming open and hurried footsteps searching your apartment. You had just about enough sense to yank your towel off the hook and cover up your naked body.

"Y/N?" called a voice just outside the bathroom door.

Shit. It was Rio. You wished the ground would just swallow you up.

"Are you okay? I heard you scream, and then I heard something shatter." You could hear the genuine concern in her voice.

Lifting your head slightly, you noticed the shards of glass from what used to be your bathroom shelf, surrounding you. All you could do was let out a groan and close your eyes at this new development of what was turning out to be the worst morning of your life so far.

This was a bad choice, as a split second later, Rio barged into your bathroom.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Your neighbour teased, but you could hear the relief in her voice. She moved further into the room, assessing the damage. "Not to ruin such a perfect morning for you, but I might have broken your door getting in here." 

You open your eyes, blinking up at her. Taking her in, you noticed she was wearing a cropped baggy tank top and gym shorts. You blink up at her again, and your head throbs with each beat of your pulse, the pain radiating down your neck. You're still dazed, trying to process how you ended up sprawled on the cold bathroom floor with your FBI agent neighbour standing over you. Rio's sharp eyes take in your silence, concern clouding the playful smirk she'd worn just moments before.

"Hey," she says, voice softer now, as she crouches down beside you. She reaches out, fingertips gently brushing your cheek to turn your face towards her. "Y/N, can you hear me? Do you know who I am?"

You swallow, trying to focus. Her touch is surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to her usual no-nonsense demeanour. You nod slightly, the movement making your head spin. "Rio," you manage to croak out. "Neighbour, FBI agent. And, apparently, a door kicker."

She huffs a laugh, a brief flicker of relief crossing her face. "Good. That's a start. I don't usually make a habit of barging into people's bathrooms uninvited, but I heard that scream, and... well, I'm glad I did." Her eyes drop down to your arm, where blood seeps from a jagged cut. She curses under her breath, her grip on your shoulder tightening just slightly. "You're bleeding. We need to get you cleaned up."

You glance down at your arm, wincing at the sight of blood trickling down to your hand. "I really know how to make an impression, huh?"

Rio shakes her head, lips pressed together in a tight line. "Let's save the jokes until you're not covered in glass, yeah?" Without another word, she slips an arm under your shoulders, helping you sit up. The world tilts slightly, but her hold on you is firm, steadying you as you get your bearings.

"You're going to have to trust me for a minute," she tells you softly. "Can you stand?"

"Maybe," you say, though you're not entirely sure. She helps you up, careful not to jostle your injured arm, and you try to ignore the heat of her skin against yours, the way her fingers dig into your side just enough to ground you.

Rio's eyes dart around the room, quickly assessing the mess of broken glass and water pooling on the floor. "Alright," she says decisively. "I'm taking you back to my place. We'll patch you up there. Your shower is out of commission, and I don't trust that you won't take another tumble if I leave you alone here."

You don't have the energy to argue, so you just nod, letting her guide you out of the bathroom. The two of you make it to the hallway, but not before she grabs a spare towel and wraps it around you more securely. Her movements are quick and efficient, but there's a gentleness to them that surprises you. It's a side of Rio you've never seen before—one that's patient and caring, not just the tough, sarcastic woman you've exchanged pleasantries with in passing.

As you step into her apartment, you notice it's much more personal than you'd imagined. There are framed photos on the walls—nothing too sentimental, mostly candid shots of places she's travelled to, city skylines, and sunsets. Her living room is cosy, with a worn leather couch and a small stack of books piled on the coffee table.

"Sit," she instructs, pointing to the couch. You sink down into it, feeling strangely out of place but oddly comfortable. Rio disappears into the bathroom for a moment, returning with a first aid kit. She kneels in front of you, carefully prying your hand away from your arm.

"This is going to sting," she warns, pulling out an antiseptic wipe. You flinch as she cleans the cut, her brows knitting together in concentration. "Sorry," she mutters. "I'm used to dealing with criminals and suspects, not clumsy neighbours."

"Criminals don't trip in the shower much?" you quip, trying for humour despite the pain. It earns you a small smile from Rio, her eyes flicking up to meet yours.

"Not usually, no. Though I'll admit you're far more entertaining." Her voice softens again, the smirk fading as she wraps a bandage around your arm. "You scared me for a second there, you know."

The confession catches you off guard. "I did? you ask, watching her face as she finishes tying off the bandage.

She doesn't look up, her focus still on your arm. "Yeah," she says quietly. "I thought something bad had happened. Guess I care more about my neighbour than I realised."

Your heart skips a beat, the words hanging in the air between you. It's the first real admission of anything beyond casual friendliness, and it leaves you breathless. You're about to say something—anything—but Rio stands up, offering her hand to you.

"Come on," she says. "Let's get you some proper clothes and maybe a coffee. You can stay here until we sort out your door and shower."

Rio's grip on your hand is firm as she helps you up, her expression still hovering somewhere between concern and her usual, dry amusement. You follow her into the kitchen, and she releases you, motioning for you to sit at the table. It feels strange being here, in her space, especially after the chaos of your morning. She pulls out a chair for you with a slight roll of her eyes, as if it's absurd that you'd even try to resist her instruction.

"I don't have any shifts for the next two days," she announces, moving towards the coffee maker without glancing back at you. "And considering you might've blacked out for a second back there, I'm not letting you out of my sight. So, you're staying with me, here, until you're back on your feet properly."

You open your mouth to argue, but the look she throws over her shoulder silences you. It's one part worry and two parts something else—something softer, almost protective.

"I can manage," you say, but your voice lacks conviction, especially as you rub your throbbing arm. The bandage is already starting to bleed through a bit. Rio's eyes narrow at the sight, and she steps closer, prodding your arm gently.

"Yeah, you're doing a great job," she says dryly, then nods to herself. "You're staying here."

"Fine," you sigh, though part of you feels a flutter of something—relief, maybe, or the thrill of being looked after by someone like Rio. "But I can sleep on the couch. I don't want to kick you out of your bed."

Rio's lips twitch into a smirk. "I'm not letting you take the couch. You've already proven that you're a danger to yourself in any situation that involves standing up."

You can't help but laugh, despite everything. "So, what, we share your bed?"

She raises an eyebrow, as if daring you to challenge her. "It's a queen size. I think we can manage. Unless you've suddenly developed a fear of co-sleeping?"

The thought of sharing a bed with her sends a rush of heat through you, but you try to play it off with a shrug. "As long as you don't hog the covers."

"I'll do my best," she says, the smirk widening.

-

The first night is awkward, as expected. You lie stiffly on one side of the bed, while Rio takes the other, the space between you feeling like a chasm despite the closeness. She's warm though, and you can feel the heat radiating from her body and the subtle scent of her shampoo filling your senses. It's both comforting and maddening, making it hard to fall asleep. You’re hyper-aware of every shift she makes, every time her arm brushes against yours. At some point, she turns onto her side, facing you, and you feel her eyes on you in the dark.

"You still awake?" she whispers.

"Yeah," you reply, swallowing hard.

There's a pause, then you feel her hand brush against yours. It's light, almost as if by accident, but when you don't pull away, she leaves it there, her fingers barely touching yours.

"Try to get some sleep," she murmurs. "You need to rest."

"Alright," you say, voice hoarse, and somehow, with her so close, you finally drift off.

Over the next day and a half, the tension between you shifts, It's subtle at first—small, lingering glances from Rio that last a bit too long, the brush of her fingers against your back when she helps you into the kitchen. Her sarcasm returns, but there's a flirtatious edge to it now, like she's testing the waters.

"You're really milking this injury, aren't you?" She teases, handing you your drink to have with the pizza she bought for dinner. "You'd think you broke your entire body, the way you're lounging around."

"Hey," you protest, setting the drink down. "You're the one who insisted I stay. Don't blame me for enjoying the hospitality."

She leans against the counter, arms crossed, a grin tugging at her lips. "Oh, I'm well aware. But don't get too comfortable with me waiting on you hand and foot—I've got to go back to work tomorrow.”

-

That night, the atmosphere between you shifts even more. When you climb into bed besides Rio, there's no hesitation this time. She turns towards you almost immediately, her hand resting lightly on your hip as if it's the most natural thing in the world. You can feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of your shirt, her breath warm against the back of your neck. It's a small touch, nothing too bold, but it feels significant—an unspoken acknowledgement of everything simmering between you two. You fall asleep like that, closer than before, your fingers unconsciously brushing hers under the covers.

When you wake up, she's already dressed for the day, leaning over you with a mug of coffee in hand. She sets it down on the nightstand with a playful smile. "Morning sweetheart," she says, her voice laced with that familiar teasing tone, but there's a softness to it now. "Try not to do anything risky while I'm gone, yeah? I don't want to come back to find you've taken a tumble without me here to save the day."

You laugh, reaching for the coffee, but there's a flutter in your chest at the pet name, even if she means it jokingly. "I'll do my best," you say. "But no promises."

She smirks, leaning down just enough to press a light kiss to your forehead. "Good. I'll be back later. Make yourself at home."

You do. The rest of the day passes in a strangely pleasant haze, and you find yourself enjoying the small comforts of her apartment. It's quiet without her, but there's a sense of ease you haven't felt in a long time, like you truly belong here. You find yourself smiling for no reason, touching the small trinkets on her shelves, running your fingers over the soft throw blankets she has draped across the couch.

By the time you decide to take a shower, you're feeling entirely too content. You strip down, stepping under the hot spray with a sigh. That's when your thoughts drift back to Rio—how she looked last night, half-asleep and tousled, her arm draped over your waist, her expression unguarded in a way you'd never seen before.

Your thoughts turn to fantasy almost unbidden. You imagine her joining you in the shower, pressing you back against the cold tiles, her hands sliding down your wet skin. You can almost feel it—the heat of her breath on your neck, the firmness of her body against yours. You start to move your hand towards your aching clit, letting out a quiet, shuddering moan, lost in the fantasy of what it would be like to kiss her and have her hands on you.

You don't hear the bathroom door open, but suddenly, you hear her voice—low and amused. "You sure you're okay in here? Didn't have another fall, did you?"

You freeze, eyes snapping open. You can barely see her through the steam, but she's there, standing just outside the shower curtain, and you realise with a jolt that she must have heard you. You heart slams against your ribs as the curtain slides back just a little, and Rio steps inside completely naked, her smirk evident even through the haze.

"I really just can't trust you not to injure yourself while showering, can I?" she says, voice teasing but thick with something else—desire, maybe. Her eyes travel down your body, lingering in a way that sends a shiver through you.

"Rio," you breathe out, half a warning, half a plea.

She steps closer, crowding you against the wall, her hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. "You know," she murmurs, her lips so close to yours now that you can feel the brush of them with every word. "I think you've been waiting for me to do this."

And then she kisses you, slow and heated, like she's been thinking about this just as much as you have. Her mouth is soft but insistent, coaxing a response from you until you melt into her, hands tangling in her hair as you kiss her back just as eagerly. The steam from the shower mixes with the heat between you, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.

When she finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, her forehead resting against yours. "I knew it," she whispers, her voice laced with satisfaction. "You've been wanting this so badly, haven't you?"

You nod, swallowing thickly. "Yeah," you admit, barely louder than a whisper. "I have."

She grins, tugging you closer until you're pressed against her, chest to chest. "Good," she says, leaning in to kiss you again, deeper this time. "Because I've been wanting it too."

And with that, she shoves you against the wall. Hard. She's kissing you all over, igniting the skin where each one lands. She nips and sucks at your neck, finding where you're most sensitive. A moan escapes your lips, and you buck your hips, trying to get any kind of friction against your core. For a brief moment, you start to get embarrassed, but then one of Rio's hands finds its way between your legs. She dips a finger between your lips and hums at how wet you already are for her.

Looking directly into your eyes, silently telling you to keep her gaze, she lowers herself to suck on one of your tits, tongue swirling around your nipple, making it harden quickly. The hand not on your clit, starts to pinch your other nipple, pulling another loud guttural moan from you. 

Working her mouth down your torso, marking up your body as she goes, Rio sinks to her knees, her face now directly opposite your dripping cunt, eyes still locked on yours.

Her hands deftly grip your hips, steadying you against the wall. "You've got to promise me you're not going to fall again, sweetheart," she all but growls, the arousal evident in her voice.

You nod your head, but it wasn't enough for the woman, who digs her nails into your skin where she's holding you. "Ye-Yes. I promise."

That is all Rio needs before she starts to drag her tongue through your folds. Switching between broad licks along the length between your entrance and your clit, and firmer, more purposeful circles over your bundle of nerves.

You feel dizzy, but you know it has nothing to do with your concussion and everything to do with the woman kneeling between your legs. Despite your head spinning, you manage to bring your hands down to tangle in Rio's hair, pushing her harder into you. You need more.

She moans against you, clearly enjoying how turned on you are. The vibration from the moan goes straight to your core, and you nearly cum just from that. Sensing you're close, Rio pushes two fingers inside you, causing you to curse her name inbetween moans.

You feel her chuckle and then start fucking you more vigorously. "I want to hear you, baby. I want the whole floor to hear you moan my name," she says, momentarily pulling away from your pussy. You can't help but oblige as she starts to curl her fingers, resuming her licking and sucking.

With her fingers curling inside you like that, it isn't long before you climax, legs shaking, cumminng hard over her fingers and tongue. Rio helps you through the end of your orgasm, making sure to hold you up as you come back down. 

"Okay, darling, I think we need to sit you down before you lose another fight with gravity," Rio smirks. You can't help but agree; your knees feel very weak and it's taking all of your concentration to stay upright.

"Oh, by the way, I bumped into the maintenance guys on my way in," Rio says lightly, helping you out of the shower. "And they said that your door isn't getting fixed for at least another week. So, it looks like you'll have me to help you shower for a little while longer." Winking, she drags you to her bed, determined to continue what she had just started.

_

alright folks, I've got a sequel in the works but can't decide on the vibes (there'll be smut regardless): READ PART 2 HERE

[envy-of-the-apple]

Rewound Infinitely

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Part one: Infinite Rewind

Synopsis: A decade later, Gojo has finally caught up with you. Weddings take a lot of planning.

Word Count: 8.6k

(Warnings: flashbacks to gore, not healthy trauma coping, thats all tho! pretty wholesome compared to last time)

Some things about him had changed within a decade, while others stayed the same. 

Even taller than you last saw him. His hair has been styled, no longer ivory chaos. You can't see a single blemish or mark despite the decade of fighting curses. He's as flawless as the first day you met him. No glasses; the entirety of his blue keeps you still.

You've seen this Satoru before: Suguru's memories, with glassy eyes, ruffled ivory hair, and an empty expression. Seeing such beauty yourself when you're standing right in front of him, it's breathtaking. 

Even the lights of Tokyo couldn't compare to him. 

You say nothing. You can't. Your mouth is dry and pointless. You're not even sure where to even begin. In front of a God, your insecurities pile up all over again. Is he disappointed by you? How could you explain everything that you put him through? Your mouth opens, you think you're about to speak: an apology, a plea, anything-

"—You're late!" 

His hands reach up to squish your cheeks together. It was so unexpected, you squeak. 

And Gojo Satoru is pouting. 

It's a wave. The ocean of anxiety, guilt, and fear crashes into the shore. You feel nothing but indignant rage at the brat who clearly hadn't matured one damn bit. 

"I'm not late!" You hiss back. "If anything, you're the one who's late. I was—"

You're cut off by his laugh, light and happy. 

He isn't offended by your outburst; he's overjoyed about it. His cheeks are dabbed with pink, and his lips are so wide that he's showing his teeth. Your anger wanes when he pulls you into his chest, arms circling around you. You can smell his cologne when he buries his face into your hair. 

"There you are. Finally." He melts into you like butter. "I missed you, Greeny." 

His voice is soft, quiet, and sincere. You can't do anything but hug him back, allowing him to sink.

"I missed you, too." You whisper.

He hums. Apart from the wind, it's quiet. He's clinging onto you as though he's afraid once he lets go, you'll disappear forever. His behavior is justified. You were constantly meddling with his life before whisking away. Just this once, you allow him to keep you within his reach, letting the cat catch the canary. 

"This is sweet 'n all. But we're actually getting late." He mutters. "Also, we gotta do something about your clothes." 

"Hm?" 

One moment, you're atop the Tokyo Skybridge; the next, you're standing in an upscale boutique. 

Satoru skips away from you. Meanwhile, you're frozen, brain scrambling to catch up with what happened. Teleport. He can teleport now.

"Mr. Gojo, sir." A voice calls. An older woman smiles at him. 

He gives her a casual wave before gesturing over to you. "Mind giving this one a dress? It's a black-tie event. We don't have a budget." 

The woman turns to you with a smile. "Of course, sir." 

What?

Dazed, you pliantly follow the woman into the back of the boutique. Her hold on you is gentle as she ushers you through the hall with one hand on either side of your shoulders. When you look back, Satoru is waving with a wide grin. The door shuts behind you. 

"Do you have any preferences?" 

You turn back to the woman. She's still smiling. You can't tell if it's genuine or customer service. Perhaps both. 

Did Satoru not like what you're wearing? When you look down, it makes sense. Your time on the tower wasn't kind to your hair, not to mention your clothes. This morning, you'd just thrown on the first thing you saw. 

This morning. That felt like centuries ago. 

She's still waiting. You give a trepid smile. 

"Anything," you say, "anything as long as it's cheap. I'm not exactly swimming in cash." 

She gives a confused look. "Oh, but Mr. Gojo is paying, isn't he?" 

Was he? You had no idea what was happening, much less what he had just said. She returns to her usual smile. 

"If you have nothing in mind, let's see here..." 

Some time later, your usual clothing was removed and replaced by something satin and long. It was a pretty dress that fell right to your feet. A set of women also flitted in and worked on your hair and face, putting everything back in your face so that you looked more human and less cryptid. 

"What do you think?" She asks, looking at you through that mirror. 

Pretty, you looked pretty. But when you looked closer, no amount of make-up could remove that look in your eyes. 

When you step back out, Satoru is waiting with a tapping foot. 

"Finally!" He exclaims, standing up. He doesn't acknowledge the dress, probably because he's seen himself in better. "Thanks, Hana. Okay, let's go." 

"Go?" You prod. "Go where? You—you still haven't told me what you're even doing—" 

It's no use. He grabs your hand, instantly warping you away from the boutique. 

You're outside. There's people everywhere. In the distance, you can see a crystal glass dome. The sun was still in the sky, which was strange because you remembered watching a sunset not too long ago, unless you weren't in Japan anymore. To prove it to yourself, you check your phone location. Yakima, Washington. What the fuck.

Was this some type of torture, him flitting you from continent to continent, all in a ploy to punish you for something? You give him a pleading look. 

"Just tell me what's going on—" 

"Nuh-uh." He grins. "It's a surprise! Besides, you'll figure it out soon enough. Now, I gotta' go. Stay here, be good, and find the panda!" 

And then he's gone.

You always knew he was insane, but this is ridiculous, even for him. To leave you in the middle of nowhere, that asshole.  

There is no one you recognize in the crowd, but they are all walking towards the dome, so you meekly follow. What did he say? Find the panda? It had to be a metaphor of some kind, or perhaps there was a panda statue you needed to wait under. 

And then you see a panda on two legs walking and talking with a group of teenagers.

Seriously, what else did you expect? 

Feeling like you've just aged five years, you approach the group. Including the animal, there's five. They all look like 14-16 years old. You feel like you're in high school all over again when they glance over at you. The girl looks particularly unimpressed. 

"Hi." You look at the panda. Maybe it's a really good costume because no one else looks shocked. "Satoru said I should find you...?" 

One of them seems to get the code. The one with black hair and puppy eyes perks up. 

"Ah! Are you 'Greeny'?" Did he tell everyone about that nickname? Didn't you tell him it was supposed to be a secret? Though, it doesn't really matter anymore. 

"It's not my actual name." You say before introducing yourself. 

He gives a nod. "Okkutso Yuta." He bows. What a polite kid. "This is my friend, Inumaki Toge." 

The kid with half his face under his scarf gives a wave. You smile. 

"Just Maki." The girl steps in before she gives you a once-over. "I like your dress." 

"Oh, thank you!" You say happily, "I love yours as well!" 

She looks away, but you have a feeling she has a hard time taking compliments. 

"I'm Panda." The panda fucking says, and no, it isn't a costume, but you're too tired to ask at this point. "Nice to finally meet you." 

When the final kid says nothing, Panda reaches over and wraps a furry hand around his shoulder. 

"And this is Fushiguro Megumi! He's shy." Panda says cheerily. The boy flusters under his weight. 

"Get off." Fushiguro gripes. 

"Don't mind him." Maki rolls her eyes. "He's just throwing a tantrum because his sister couldn't make it, and he's gonna have to socialize with people instead of hiding behind her." 

Fushiguro glares, but he doesn't respond to that. He just gives you a nod, and you decide these are good kids. At the very least, they're all way better than that brat Satoru. 

"So, why are we waiting out here?" You ask, peering around. 

"The doors haven't opened, yet," Okkutso kindly relays, "we're just waiting out here until everything is set up." 

"If they're taking this long, then they should at least ask for help." Maki crosses her arms. "We've been waiting out here for at least thirty minutes." 

"At least there's food." Panda tries to assuage. 

"Salmon," says Inumaki. 

"They're serving salmon out here?" You give him an incredulous look and he waves his arms around. 

"Bonito flakes." Inumaki says. Okkutso tries to come to his rescue. 

"Inumaki can't speak anything but food items because of his curse-" Maki quickly yanks him down by his collar frantically. Fushiguro is whispering something in his ear. You watch them go back and forth before it clicks. 

"Does it have something to do with his technique?" You ask, curiously. 

They stop squabbling. 

"Oh, our bad. Sorry 'bout that." Panda gives a sheepish grin. "We didn't think you'd know about jujutsu sorcery 'cause...well. Your cursed energy is really low." 

"Super low." Maki agrees. 

"Salmon." 

"Even lower than Maki's." That earns Panda a punch from her. 

"Thank you," you dryly say, before you turn back to the building. 

"What's going on in that place anyway?" 

They all give you an odd look before they look at each other. Did you say something wrong?

"Did Gojo-sensei not tell you anything?" Okkotsu asks. 

You allow yourself to leak some bitterness. "Satoru just dropped me on the sidewalk before teleporting away. He never tells me anything.

"That sounds like him." Panda nods. 

"Idiot," Maki says.

"Such an idiot," Fushiguro says, and now you feel bad for Satoru.

"Our sensei's getting married today." Okkutso supplies. He points at the dome. 

You don't get why you didn't realize it sooner. You knew these kids, at least Okkutso, Maki, Panda, and Inumaki. They all showed up on the very last day Geto Suguru died. Okkutso, in particular, had fought and defeated Suguru. 

These were Gojo Satoru's students. 

You think back to the last time you saw Satoru. He didn't look like a groom, but he's an eccentric guy. You wondered what kind of person would put up with him for the rest of their lives. You pitied them. 

"Oh." You frown. "His wedding? I—I would have at least brought a gift." 

"I don't think he'd mind," Panda said, "besides, you didn't even know!" 

You still felt a bit guilty. 

"We didn't bring anything either," Fushiguro states, and it helps just a tiny bit. 

"When the ceremony begins, you can sit with us," Okkutso tells you, "we're supposed to keep an eye on you, anyway." 

"You're not talking to a dog." Maki grunts. 

"Oh no I—I didn't mean to be offensive!" Okkutso backtracks. "It's just—well, Gojo-sensei's been talking about you for a while, and we want to make sure everything goes smoothly and we were all really excited to meet you so—" 

He keeps rambling like that until Inumaki pats his shoulder. You laugh, amused. 

"I wasn't offended or anything." You tell him before his words sink in. "Wait, Satoru talks about me?" 

"All the time." Maki responds, an edge to her voice. "'Greeny this', 'Greeny that'." 

"We usually tune him out when he gets like that," Panda says, "honestly, we didn't even think you were real until just now." 

"I always thought 'Greeny' was an inside joke Gojo-sensei and Haibara-sensei had," Okkotsu admits. 

Something warm bubbles in your stomach. 

"So," Fushiguro speaks, "how do you know Gojo, anyway?" 

You didn't know the story Gojo told them so you simply keep it vague. 

"I knew him as a kid." 

It's Panda who gets the most excited about this. 

"Really? What was he like as a teenager?" 

"A brat." You instantly respond, and then you think a little more. "But I don't think that ever changed." 

They ask you a couple more questions about Gojo's high school days. You oblige, thinking this as payback for how Satoru dropped you here without saying anything. You don't know how long you spend out there, airing out Gojo's younger days while his students get increasingly giggly. 

Okkotsu is the one who notices the crowd is moving. 

"I think they opened the doors." He smiles. "Let's go, everyone." 

You follow behind Maki, admiring the architecture. It's a grand building. Sparkling crystal glass lets the sunlight bleed in. The decoration was something else entirely. Small white flowers adorn the chandelier, and they cascade down the edges. Ice sculptures of angels greeted the guests. Live music was already playing. Satoru knows how to plan a wedding. 

Maki finds you all seats. You sit next to her. Fushiguro follows you. Okkutso, Inumaki, and Panda take the seats behind you. While you wait for the guests to settle down, you pass your time, waiting for the students to bicker with one another. From your assumption, it looked as though Maki, Panda, and occasionally Inumaki butted heads with each other. Okkutso often served as the timid referee, trying to get everyone to calm down, which almost always made things worse. Fushiguro just elected to ignore everything. 

"Are they always like this?" You lean over to whisper to him. Fushiguro gives a tired nod. 

"Every. Single. Day." He's saying this from experience, but at least you get a show. 

Everyone settles down eventually. The kids grow quiet when the music starts to swell. The indoor lights dim. It's starting. 

You've never been to a wedding this grand before. There was a live orchestra. Women and men were dressed in baby blue, gently strumming away their cellos, violins, and violas. 

It's how you miss Satoru's entrance. He's already standing on the altar by the time you look back. He's changed into something more formal. The suit and green tie fit him. A perfectly put-together beauty. As though he can sense your stare, he catches your eye and winks. 

But why was he already up there? Shouldn't he be—

"Sensei's coming!" Okkotsu whisper-yells. Inumaki hushes him.

Everyone turns to face the door. You do, too. 

Your heart stops when you see him. 

It's all there. Black hair, but it's longer this time around. Of course it is, he's had years to grow it out. He's tall, he must've grown since highschool. 

You don't think you're breathing when you watch him walk down the aisle. The music is low, barely loud enough to hide the click of his heels. He takes his rightful place beside Satoru, his best man. Satoru gives him a nudge, and Suguru shakes his head fondly. 

Everyone turns to see Shoko's entrance. You should too, but you keep staring at him. How much he's changed since high school. How much he's changed since he waltzed onstage wearing a priest's outfit, filled with nothing but empty hatred for those he viewed as weak. 

But he's not wearing that twisted monk costume. His eyes aren't dull and dead and bitter. There's no sickly faux smile on his lips.

Today, Suguru looks like the happiest man on Earth. 

His eyes are wide and eager and sparkling purple beauties. He's 27, but he looks younger. The lines of exhaustion and heartbreak aren't so prominent. And you—and you—

You just sit there, watching as Shoko walks up to the altar, watching as they stand as bride and groom. His daughters, adorned in pretty blue dresses, stand right behind him, smiling so hard you're sure it hurts. The priest speaks. They say their vows. You can't hear a single word. It's like you're behind a glass wall, and you can see him, but you can't feel him. 

 When they kiss, everything comes back. The crowd celebrates. Satoru ruffles Himeno's hair. Nanako smiles wider. Behind you, Inumaki and Panda sniffles. Okkotsu hands them a tissue. 

"It’s pretty." Maki comments. Fushiguro gives a hum of agreement. 

ⴵ

Satoru finds you and the kids when you're waiting for the reception to start. 

He appears behind you with a cheery, "And how are my lovely students holding up?" You almost spill your drink in shock.

"Sensei!" Okkotsu chirps. "Where's Geto-sensei and Ieiri-sensei?" 

"Shoko's around; Suguru's taking a break," Gojo answers with a grin. "If you don't mind me, I'll be stealing this one for a sec." 

He doesn't wait for an answer, steering you away by your shoulders. You look behind you. Panda waves. Fushiguro just looks even more upset. You wave back at them regardless. 

"I can't believe you put your students out on babysitting duty." You tell him. "And what's with this wedding? There's no alcohol anywhere." To make your point, you take another sip of your apple juice. 

"We have kids here. Kinda' have to make it alcohol-free," Satoru says. 

"The bartender could ID them." You suggest. 

"You think teens who fight curses daily wouldn't figure out how to get around that?" He grins. You frown at his frustratingly good response. 

“What’d you think of them?”

“Hm?”

“The kids.” He urges. “What’d you think?”

Your brows scrunch. You have no idea what he means by that. Eventually, you take a breath.

“I like how...close they are.” You eventually say. “The bond they share. They care. I think each one of them will be good sorcerers.”

He’s silent, and you think you might have misunderstood his question.

“I learned that from you,” Satoru says, “keeping them together, making sure they can grow, get stronger, together. You were always so insistent on that, back then. I’m glad you were. It was one of the best things about you.”

You stare at him. Really stare. You’ve never heard him sound so genuine, so sincere before. You look into his crystal-blue eyes, wide and earnest. Part of you wants to take a picture, so you could keep it forever.

Eventually, Gojo successfully drags you to a less crowded area of the party. He looks around. 

"Hm, he should be around here somewhere...?" Satoru hums to himself. 

"Who?" You ask. That question answers itself. 

Haibara Yu is waiting a little ways ahead. By now, the sun was starting to set. His brown hair turned gold. Gojo eagerly hurries you forward as he calls out to him. You stumble, still lost at what you're seeing. 

"Guess who I brought?" Gojo sweetly sings, Yu-Haibara, he hasn't let you call him Yu yet-tilts his head.

He smiles, confused. "Oh? Hello!" He says cheerily. "Who's this?" He asks to Gojo. 

"Guess," Gojo says. 

Haibara stares at you, and you decide to give him a hint. 

"Brocolli head?" 

He gapes. It's almost the same reaction he had last time. Last time, when you had to convince him to kill you so you could go back in time to save Satoru.  

"No way." He gasps. "Greeny?"

 He doesn't remember. He wouldn't, why would he? Still, it's nice to see the innocence on his face, rather than the pain you saw last time. Right before he snapped your neck. 

You think he was crying the last time you two saw each other. 

In this timeline, Haibara is hugging you so tightly you think your head's about to explode. 

"It's really you?" Haibara says, but his bear hug muffles his words. "“—I—I can’t believe it? It’s actually you! I thought I’d never see you again even though Satoru said we'd see you again one day, and—and then suddenly you pop up outta’ nowhere—not that I’m complaining— but—”

"Haibara." You plead. "You're suffocating me." 

"Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry." He lets you go, and your lungs inflate again. "I—I'm just so happy! And—and you're a girl!" He says it like it's the most surprising thing about this whole revelation. Maybe it is. 

Satoru is always needy for attention and whines as always. 

"Wait, you two came up with a code word?" He complains. "That's not fair. We never did that." 

"I mean, it was Haibara's idea." You point out. "You should be smarter next time." 

That makes him frown even more. You laugh. 

"Yu." Haibara suddenly says. 

You turn to him. 

"My friends call me Yu." 

It's nice to know that no matter what timeline you're in, Yu will always remain stagnant. 

"Okay, lover boy," Gojo says with a not-so playful bite, "keep your eye on this one for me, okay? Gotta' go do more best man shit." 

Satoru's gone once again. You look at Yu. 

"He's been running around since I got here." You tell him. "Does that man ever rest?" 

"Nope." Haibara grins, before taking your arm. "Follow me; you should meet a couple of people." 

He leads you through the crowd. You spot the teens moping about out of the corner of your eye. Panda and Inumaki seem to be in a push-up competition. Maki is egging them on. You wisely decide not to disturb them.

Yu drops your hand to wave to someone. There's no need for any kind of introduction for these people. 

Riko and Misato Kuroi smile at you first. Miss Kuroi's aged beautifully since you last saw her. Wispy silver hair knitted seamlessly into brown strands. She never got that chance to grow gray hairs last time. You're staring so much it might be rude. 

"Yu?" Riko asks and you think you're about to break because they know each other. "Who's this?" 

"Uh, this-" Haibara chokes before looking at your awkwardly. Right, he doesn't know your actual name. 

Come to think of it, Satoru doesn't know either. He never bothered to ask too. Probably on purpose. Ass. 

You smile and politely introduce yourself. It takes everything within you not to scream and hug them both because in this timeline, they don't know you. They never did. 

But you can change that now. 

"Hello!" Riko beams. "I'm Kuroi Riko, but just Riko is fine! And this is my mom: Kuroi Misato." 

She says that so plainly, like that had always been her name, like Miss Kuroi had always been her mother. You wonder how long it took for those two realities to become her norm. Or maybe it hardly took time at all. 

"It's wonderful to meet you." Miss Kuroi states before she tilts her head. "May I ask how you know the couple?" 

Haibara jumps in for you. "Um—actually, this is Satoru's date!" He fumbles. 

You do a double-take. No, you technically weren't Satoru's date. But you technically entered the wedding with him. And he was the one who 'invited' you. Fuck, you were the brat's date. Damn it. 

"Ah." Nanami cuts in for the first time. "So, you're the one Gojo won't shut up about." 

His accusation sounds like Maki's, but less harsh. You wonder if he has a favorite student. 

Nanami looks the most different from his high school counterpart. A new haircut, less slouchy, more tall and refined. He blinks at you, slow and calculating. 

Sheepishly, you laugh. "Yeah...that's me....sorry." 

"Don't be rude, Kento." 

Ieiri arrives with a soft smile and painted features. She's changed out of her glowing gown, sticking to something small yet perfectly elegant: a short white dress that curls ever so slightly at the ends. Riko's the first to hug her, ecstatic. Ieiri hugs her back, too, because they've become friends in this timeline. The circles under her eyes are less prominent. Her smile looks more real. This isn't the timeline where she's had to bury her friend; it's the timeline she's allowed to marry him. 

"Congratulations," you say politely once everyone is done cooing over her. She smiles at you, the way a stranger would. 

Then, her head tilts. 

"Sorry," she hesitates, "do we know each other? You...feel familiar somehow." 

Ieiri was the first person you met when you activated your technique and returned to the past for the first time. She was the one who calmed you down, kept you grounded. In a way, you owed a lot to her. 

Looking at her, you can see why Suguru kept her cigarettes in his pocket. 

You shrug. "I must have one of those faces." 

The attention turns back to her, her beautiful dress, pure and white and beautiful. You feel Haibara stare at you. You shake your head at him. It wasn't the time. Maybe it never will be. 

"This really is a beautiful wedding," Mistato says when the conversation reaches a pleasant lull, "I can't imagine how much it cost." 

She shrugged. 

"Probably a fortune, but I let Satoru deal with the numbers." 

Misato looks confused, and Ieiri laughs. 

"He paid for everything." She gestures to the venue. "Suguru and I didn't have to fork over a single cent. It's the least he could do for being a pain in the ass for 12 years." 

Damn, you knew he was rich, but you didn't know he was rich rich. Maybe you should consider being nicer to him. If you ask politely, perhaps you could get him to pay off your car loans. 

"I'll get him to pay for my wedding too." Riko proudly says. 

"He'd probably do it, too." Ieiri nodded along. "He offered, just like that. The only thing he was hellbent on was the date." 

"The date?" You echo. Ieiri shrugs, messing with her laced sleeves. 

"Said it absolutely needed to be on December 24th. Something about spirituality. I never listened to that guy's rants." 

It comes to you immediately, but you're pushing it away. No way. Satoru wouldn't. There isn't a chance in Hell he would have convinced his friends to have the biggest day of their lives on the same day you were supposed to meet him. 

No, of course, he would do that. Ass. 

"So, how do you know Satoru?" Riko asks you. When she realized how rude it sounded, she backtracked. "I—I didn't mean anything by it! It's just...the guy only knows five people. When he spoke about bringing someone along, I thought he was joking." 

"Same here," Nanami says. Haibara stifles a laugh, and you realize all of Satoru's friends think he's a loser. 

Friends. Back then, he only had one of those. 

"Um." You toss Haibara look. He shrugs. "We met a few years ago! But we just recently reconnected." That's close enough to the truth. Good enough. 

You remember your blunder. You sympathetically look at Shoko. 

"I'm so sorry I wasn't able to bring a gift," you say, "I was blindsided. Satoru barely gave me enough time to get ready." 

You laugh, and you're hoping they laugh it off too. They don't, instead Shoko, Nanami, Riko, and Misato look at you. Then, they look at each other. 

Nanami speaks first. He clears his throat.

"Did Satoru....abduct you?" 

"What?" 

"That sounds like him." Misato sighs, more exasperated than anything else.

Riko nods along with her. "We tried to teach him. Where did we go wrong?" she laments. 

Haibara and Shoko laugh as you desperately try to defend your not-date date because he didn't actually kidnap you, but he did bring you here against your will and started dragging you along like some toy, but it's the context about that that matters. You wished they could've had a bit more faith in him. Poor Satoru. 

It ends eventually. Ieiri excuses herself. Riko and Misato go too. You stay with Yu and Nanami, watching as they get into increasingly petty arguments. It’s hilarious how quickly Yu is able to bring the usually staunch and serious Nanami down to his level.

Sometime later, you find yourself roaming the balcony. The party roars on indoors, laughing, talking, cheering. It was chilly outside, you should go back in within a few minutes. You just needed a break from the action.

The sun had already gone down, by then. You were somewhere out in the country. The buildings sparsely dotted the horizon. There were no artificial lights. It meant the stars could shine as brightly as they wanted to, with no one to stop them.

You hadn’t seen Satoru in a while. You had no idea where he’d run off to. It didn’t matter; you knew he’d eventually pop out of a box to harass you again.

But now that you had space for yourself, you needed to think.

You rest your hands over the rail, looking up at the stars. There were so many out tonight.

You fixed the future. You changed everything. Does that mean you still needed to tell Satoru about the past timeline?

You promised him answers the next time you two met. You promised him an explanation. He waited ten years for that. You pinch at the fabric of the dress.

This future that you carefully built, crafted with your own hands. It’s delicate, a glass castle.

It’s justice, but did that make it right?

“Want one?”

The voice makes you jump.

He stares at you, leaning against the rail. Purple eyes, mirroring the starry sky.

You knew these eyes, for a while, they used to be yours.

You stare at him. Then, you stare at the cigarette in his inviting fingers.

Your fingers twitch.

“No—no, I’m fine.” You smile. “Actually, I’m trying to quit.”

“Ah.” Suguru says, lighting it up before bringing it to his lips. “Shouldn’t tempt you, then. Pardon, what’s your name?”

You can hear your heartbeat. It’s loud, right in your ear. You wonder if he can hear it too. Are his curses around? Can they smell it? Your blood? Are they still as ravenous as the last time, eager to tear and fester and eat—

“It’s Greeny,” you say, “you can call me Greeny. ”

He hums in approval.

“Geto Suguru,” he says, “though I’m pretty sure you already know that.” You both share a huff of laughter.

“My fiancé quit a few years ago.” Suguru starts, mentioning the cherry-red cigarette. “Thought I’d follow in her footsteps, but here I am.” He shrugs before he winces.

“Wife, sorry.” He corrects. “I still can’t believe it.”

The monsters come out to play their song. You close your eyes, forgive Suguru, and you die once more.

You smile at his tone. He sounded like that 12 years ago, when he was still just a kid. Full of soft wonder.

“I’m guessing you’ve been planning this for a long time?” You ask.

He shrugs. “Shoko did most of the work. This is all thanks to her, really. Unfortunately, I was too busy managing the school.”

“I heard you were a principal?” You prod.

Suguru nods, “Our current one recently retired. I’m trying to follow in his footsteps.”

You think of Principal Yaga, the one with sunglasses and a stern expression. He looks a lot like Nanami in some areas. But he acts more like Suguru than anyone you ever knew.

And you knew Suguru; you knew him as well as yourself.

The screams start up again, and you forgive Suguru. 

“I can tell you’re already making him proud,” you say, “I met your students. They’re good kids.”

He smiles, soft, gentle. Those used to be your smiles.

“They are, aren’t they?” He repeats back, “some of them had a rough beginning, but it all worked out somehow.” He hums. “I’m glad.”

His daughters, the ones standing beside him as he kissed his wife, wide eyes and even wider grins. They didn’t have the darkness in their faces. The bitterness. Like they did in the last timeline.

You were glad, too.

This death is a lot more painful than the others. 

The curse that's holding you is more intelligent than its predecessors. It keeps you alive, tearing at your skin, feasting on your flesh. Blood is everywhere. You scream until it rips out your vocal cords. It's almost a mercy to just die. 

You forgive Suguru.

“It sounds like you’ve had personal experience with that sort of thing.” When he looks at you, you quickly say. “Your eyes. I—I can see it. I’ve always been good at that sort of thing.” You knew Suguru. His eyes matched yours.

He doesn’t look offended. Suguru takes a minute, reaching up to his black locks. He removes the elastic, pretty black hair falls down his shoulders He’s grown it out since high school. It reaches his waist.

He eases himself back onto the rail, looking up at the stars. You follow.

“Yeah, I do,” he’s saying, “I think I know what it’s like being them at that age. Alone, isolated, slipping down a rock. Drowning, but no one can see it.” Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised.

“When I was younger...it was really hard. Some days, I was so full of hate and anger. The pain was a lot. Sometimes, I had this despicable idea that it was someone else’s fault I was like this. Someone innocent.” He laughs, bitter.

“And, on those days, I would often feel something.”

You look at him. Suguru doesn’t stare back, eyes lost in the stars.

“Sometimes, it’d be a voice. Other times a small nudge on my shoulders, pushing me in the right direction. Once, it was a hug, keeping me from doing something that would’ve changed my life forever. And it would be just a bit more bearable, like I wasn’t so alone.”

You can feel your heart in your throat. Your fingers grip the railing.

“What did you think it was?” You expect hate, disgust. You want to give yourself a reason.

You forgive Suguru.

He takes a moment, coming back from heaven. His eyes find yours.

“I’m not sure.” He admits. “I’m not religious, but I always liked to think of it as—”

An angel. A hand of God. A higher power. It doesn’t matter what Suguru said, you knew what he meant.

A part of you always wondered why Suguru would return to Jujutsu society, when he wanted nothing more than to run from it. You expected him to retire. Instead, he took the reins of the beast, wrangling it down. Now, you get why.

“That’s why you’re a teacher now,” you say, “so you could be the same thing for your students.”

He nods, and you think of Maki. You think of Okkutso. You think of Panda. You think of Fushiguro. You think of Inumaki. Suguru must have been there for Maki, even when her own family wasn’t. Suguru must have helped Okkutso control his technique, being the only one who could. Suguru, must have made these kids better than they ever possibly could’ve been. Fighting for them instead of against them.

“Sorry.” He blinks. “I—I didn’t mean to get so sentimental. It’s been years since I thought about my own highschool years.” He laughs, voice full.

“You’re just...really nice to talk to.” He hums. “I don’t think I can explain it but it’s...familiar somehow.”

You look at him. He’s older, but in some ways, he hasn’t really changed. Even now, when you look at him, you see a reflection of yourself.

“I can see why he likes you.”

“Who?” You ask when he brings you back from your thoughts.

“The idiot.” But he says it so affectionately, so lovingly, you can’t help but smile. “I saw him dragging you around earlier. Sorry about that. I would’ve stepped in but...” He trails off, thinking.

“It’s been a while since I saw him like that.”

You hadn’t noticed anything about Satoru. He smiled just as brightly as he did in highschool. Now, you wonder if this was the first time in a while Suguru had seen that side of him: carefree, no longer The Strongest.

It hurts. It hurts so much. Blood seeps into the pavement. You can hear the curse laughing. It sounds like him.

You forgive Suguru. 

“Are you and him…” he trails off.

“No.” You laugh. “No, I’m his….childhood friend. We just haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“Oh?” He tilts his head. “How long has it been?”

You decide to be honest. “Ten or so years, give or take?”

He whistles.

“No wonder he’s bouncing around like a yipping puppy,” He says, and you can’t help but agree with the analogy.

“In any case.” He leans over the railing. His cigarette is down to its last embers. “I hope you stick around. A friend…I think he needs more of those more than anything.”

You stare at him. Those purple eyes. You can see what Shoko sees. You can see what Satoru saw all those timelines ago. They only ever saw the light, the gentleness, of Geto Suguru.

You are the only person in the world who knows him.

He’s killed people. He’s killed you. No matter how much logic or justification or pain was involved, the blood of the innocent is still sticky. It still drips across the pavement, scarring the sidewalk in red. It still hurts.

When Suguru would kill you, you’d force yourself to forgive him. You needed to die without regrets, because the pain of hatred builds up, you’ve seen it happen firsthand.

But now that you’re free, what Suguru did to you wasn't fair. Just because his innocence was taken away doesn’t give him the right to take the lives of others. It never gives anyone the right to murder. You keep telling yourself that this Suguru and that Suguru were different…but they weren’t. Not really. The look in their eyes matched perfectly.

He’d do it again, in the right conditions.

And yet.

You forgive Suguru.

You can’t judge him. If there is a God, maybe Suguru will have to pay for the crimes he committed all those timelines ago. You can’t save Suguru from that. But to you, the debt is paid.

Besides, you’re too tired to hate him. And you won’t allow yourself to fall into the same cycle he struggled to break free from.

You look into his eyes. Then, at his ring. You smile. 

And that's enough.

“I will,” you say, “I will.”

Then, as two parts of a whole, the two of you stare at the stars for a little while longer.

ⴵ

The reception was nice. A fancy dinner, you can’t remember the last time you ate something. The speeches were beautiful, especially Shoko’s. You swore you saw Nanami shed a tear, but you never said anything about it.

You saw a glimpse of white hair in the crowd before the first dance began. Stunning music. The couple must have practiced for months. Bride and Groom, husband and wife, held hands and looked at each other like they were the only ones in the room.

Megumi stood beside you, watching Ieiri and Geto sway to the music. As though the kid could sense him, Megumi’s serene face sours. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when there’s a tap on your shoulder.

“Cute, huh?” Satoru starts, mentioning at the dance. “It didn’t look this put-together in the beginning. Shoko gave him a ton of bruises,” he says with a shit-eating grin.

You frown. “Shouldn’t you be doing something else than gossiping about your friends?”

“I am! I’m checking up on my son!” And then he turns to Fushiguru. “Megumi!”

“No.” Fushiguro instantly rebukes.

“Don’t mind him.” Satoru chides. “He’s going through an angst phase.” Fushiguro rolls his eyes, but he shifts just a tiny bit.

“Y’know, he was actually supposed to be the flower boy, but he refused. Such a shame, the pictures would’ve been something else.” Gojo sighed and now you’re convinced they aren’t father and son.

“That was never going to happen.” Fushiguro says, and as if he thinks you’re naive enough to believe Satoru, he glances at you. “Never.”

“Of course not.” You crack a smile.

You watch as Ieiri descends into a graceful spin, Geto taking the lead. When he tips her over, your eyes soften.

Gojo leans over; you can feel his breath in your ear.

“Next year.” He whispers. “For us, it’ll definetly be next year.”

You jerk away but he’s already skipping off, having the audacity to call out a cheerful ‘toodles’.

“What did he say?” Fushiguro questions.

That’s what you wanted to know, too, but you were so tired, and the night was so long, and you couldn’t bother to get out your Gojo translator and figure it out.

“The same stuff he always says. Nonsense.” You decide on. Fushiguro takes the answer.

“I don’t understand how he has all that energy.” You mutter, watching Satoru disappear through the crowd.

“I thought he’d get better with age, turns out I was wrong,” Fushiguro says.

“I wanted to ask,” you start, your eyes still on Ieiri and Geto, “how do you know Gojo? Aren’t you still in middle school?”

“Everyone knows Gojo. He’s pretty famous in the jujutsu world.” Fushiguro shrugs. “But personally...he’s my benefactor. Took me and my sister in when my parents left.”

You look at him. And you feel like an idiot.

He’s the spitting image of his father. Sharp cobalt eyes. Black hair. Fushiguro Toji is all over the young man.

Gojo Satoru, the one who killed the sorcerer killer, took care of his enemy’s children.

“What?” Fushiguro asks when you’re smiling

You shake your head. “No, no it’s nothing.”

Satoru told you that you’re the one who taught him about the importance of bonds. But you think he should take some of the credit too.

ⴵ

Eventually, everyone gets on the dancefloor.

It’s a mess. Absolute chaos. Panda and Inumaki are trying and failing to do the waltz. Maki and Okkuttso are lightly swaying to the music. They’ve managed to get Fushiguro up there too. Though, he doesn’t look extremely happy.

The adults are even worse. Apparently, the retired principal Yaga is a pretty good dancer. You think one of them found alcohol, because Haibara looks absolutely wasted. He’s swinging his arms around, almost hitting the other guests. Nanami is trying to get his attention, but the guy wants none of it. When Haibara catches your eye, he wildly waves in clear invitation.

You smile back, but you shake your head. You think he’s about to come up to you, but something else catches his eye, and he’s grinning at a very irrated-looking Iori.

You were sitting on a chair, just people-watching. It was a nice break from everything. To listen to the music, lightly tap your feet, play with the frill of your dress. You weren’t really in the mood to dance.

Besides, you weren’t technically invited here anyway. It’d be rude to just burst on the scene.

“There you are! Been looking all over for you!”

You don’t have to look over to see who it is. Satoru slumps down in a chair next to you.

“Greeny, you gotta’ do something about your cursed energy. It’s so weak. Like finding a needle in a haystack.”

“Thanks,” you say dryly.

“Always happy to help.” Satoru beams, and then he glances over at the floor.

“We’re dancing after this song, by the way.”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s so cute you think you have a choice, Greeny.”

You frown. “There’s no point in calling me Greeny anymore. Unless you still don’t know my name.”

“I do, but it doesn’t matter,” Satoru says arrogantly. “You’ll always be my Greeny to me.”

You roll your eyes. Even now, he’s a brat. You thought all these years would mellow him down just a tiny bit.

“So,” you start, “are you done with your ‘best man shit’?”

“Yup.” He announces. “Now, I can sit back and enjoy the show.”

You smile, but you can still feel the butterflies in your stomach. He’s been running around so far and it’s given you time. Now, that he’s free, it means you two have to talk.

And you aren’t sure if you truly want to.

You flex your fingers.

“Um, how have you—”

“Stop.” Satoru interrupts. “Let’s not make this awful, Greeny.”

You nod immediately, relaxing. His voice gets softer, after that.

“I’m glad you chose that color,” he says, “I was sorta’ hoping you would.”

You look down at the dress. A deep green. You hadn’t even thought about the color, the boutique lady had basically thrown it at you.

The shade of Satoru’s green tie matches your dress. You can feel your smile again. Typical.

“I’m glad I did too,” you honestly say. And then, you continue to fiddle with your fingers. Ultimately, you decide to just bite the bullet.

“I thought you’d be mad.” You finally say, words jittery and unfocused. “Angry at me for...for what I did.”

He’s silent, and you feared that it was all true. The laughs and the jabs were all a facade.

"I don’t think I was ever mad." He responds, staring into the crowd. "Hurt, yeah. Then, it faded into something that stung everytime I thought about it, and then...something else. And now, I know it's a waste to get mad because you're finally here now. With me." 

His tone pitches upwards as he reaches over to painfully pinch your cheek. 

"'Sides, I know you can't escape me anymore, Greeny," Satoru cheerfully says, "Now, I know your face, your name, and with little effort, I could probably find your address, your social security-" 

"Okay! Okay!" You pull away, rubbing your cheek. Damn, he's scary. "Threat acknowledged." 

"Good!" He straightens himself back up, and you find yourself slumping again.

“I am sorry, though,” you say, “for leaving like that. I...I always wished I could do that a bit differently. You deserved better.”

“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head. “Don’t blame yourself for only doing what you could. It eats at you, Greeny. It really does.” He sighs, leaning forward in his chair.

“You deserved better too,” he says back, voice barely above the music, “I always had some regrets about those years. I thought I could’ve done more to help you, back then.”

There it was again: selfishness, the urge to do good to others while retaining that greed. You supposed you taught him that.

You put your face in your hands.

“Even though, you dragged me here against my will, I feel so guilty being here.” You complain, hoping it’ll lighten the mood. “You should apologize to everyone because I crashed the party.”

Satoru scoffs. “What are you talking about? Everyone loves you!” He exclaims. “Look, Yu’s ecstatic. Riko won’t stop gushing about you; you even have Nanami’s approval! I don’t even have that!” You roll your eyes, sinking back in your seat.

“Besides, you needed to come. You needed to see it.”

“See what?” You ask.

“This.” He points to the venue, the ballroom full of glittery whites and sparkles.

“Look around, Greeny. Look at all the people you saved.”

Haibara and Riko are dancing together. Two dead children finally had the chance to grow up. Misato speaks to Nanami. Beautiful gray hair, eyes that aren’t so tired. Shoko sparkling in her dress, and Geto—

The same day he was supposed to die, Suguru was getting married.

“Thank you.” When you look at him, Satoru is staring right at you. His sea eyes give everything and more.

“Thank you for saving all of us.”

Your heart skips, then just stops completely. You can’t cry, you won’t not here, not on such a happy day. But your eyes are stinging. And Satoru is turning blurry.

And then, like Satoru always does, he ruins the moment.

"Did you just fall for me a little?"

His head tilts. That same mischievous, irritating smile lights up on his face.

You relax, laughing out of disbelief. When you speak, your voice is barely scratchy. "You're so full of yourself; it's actually a little cute." 

"You think I'm cute?" 

"Did you hear anything else that I just said?" 

"I heard you think I'm cute,” Satoru responds proudly, and you doubt he’d ever let you hear the end of it.

“And besides! Today is supposed to be a celebration for you too!” He exclaims.

“Oh really?”

“Yes,” Satoru says proudly, “you did it! You became a fully-fledged sorcerer. Considering your low CE, you might pass as grade four, but when I talk to our new principal, I’m sure he’ll make things right. Get ready to join be and him in the big leagues.”

You could read between the lines. Satoru wanted to tell everyone. You think a while ago, you might have agreed, but...

“Can...Can I quit being a sorcerer?” You ask. “I’m tired.”

He takes a second. Some of you wonders if he’ll try to talk you out of this. It’s more beneficial for him if you stay as an asset to the jujutsu world. How many people’s lives will be saved by a technique like yours? To be able to go back in time again and again and again. To die again and again and again.

“Someone once told me that it’s okay to be selfish every once in a while.” Satoru looks at you, eyes like lilies once again. “I won’t fault you for it. I don’t think anyone will.”

When you try to smile, it feels wobbly.

“That person sounds smart.”

“Nah.” He grins. “An idiot, actually. Way too oblivious.”

You laugh, despite the insult.

“Quit,” Satoru says when it’s quiet again, “do whatever you want. But...you can’t run away, okay? I won’t let you.”

It’s barely a touch. His hand reaches for your fingers. You’re the one who grabs it.

“I won’t.” You promise. “I won’t.”

He’s satisfied with that. You can tell when he squeezes your hand back.

You look at him, and you decide you won't tell Satoru what happened in the last timeline.

There's no point. It wouldn't do anything but shatter everything he worked so hard to make. Why would you break the glass when you could just add concrete, make it stronger? You saved everyone. A few white lies here and there just keep this future safe.

And you know this Satoru. If you told him, he'd carry that burden with you like the soldier he was. You don't want him to do that. You don't want him to have the same look you see in your own face. One last sacrifice.

When you come back, Satoru is shifting in his seat, uncrossing his legs.

“So...about that dance?”

“Ugh, fine.” You stand up. “One dance. And if you do anything embarrassing, I’m leaving.”

“Clearly, you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” He grins, standing up himself.

He doesn’t release your hand for the rest of the night.

You don’t mind.

(When you disappear again, Maki’s the one who finds you.

By then, it’d been long into the night. Shoko and Suguru were already gone, off to their honeymoon in the Maldives. Riko, Misato, and most of the students were sleeping off the night. Maki, his most diligent student, was helping the remaining adults pack up the venue.

She’s dragging chairs away when she grunts in Satoru’ direction.

“By the way, your date’s sleeping outside.”

Ah, you were on the balcony. No wonder he couldn’t find you. Satoru needed to do something about your cursed energy. What’s the point of having six eyes when he can’t even find the one person who’s evaded him for a decade?

You’ve completely passed out. Slumped over on a chair, head bent at an angle that could not be comfortable. Satoru knows he should feel bad. He dragged you around the entire night like a ragdoll. This was partially his fault.

He can’t really blame himself, not when you were finally here.

It still feels like a dream. Being able to hear your voice, not Suguru’s, not Yu’s. Your touch. Your eyes. Your face. Your laugh. For years, he’s wondered what it sounded like.

Reality beat even his perfect daydreams.

Seeing you up there on the Tokyo Skytree. The wind pushing your hair back and forth. It was breathtaking.

Even the lights of Tokyo, couldn’t compare to you.

He leans down, lips at your ear, voice low because he’s too prideful to let anyone else hear, not even you.

“I know it’s too late, but you looked really pretty tonight.”

You say nothing, but you shift, murmur something in your sleep. It’s all he needs.

He ditches the clean up party, taking you within his arms. He thinks he says something to Yu, but Satoru doesn’t really care if he heard. Right now, he only has one priority.

Tonight, he’ll sleep on the hotel’s pull-out sofa while you snooze in the luxurious queen-sized bed. You’ll probably be mad in the morning, something about how you should’ve taken the couch, but he doesn’t mind your mindless acts of selflessness.

He’s waited a decade. He deserves to keep you.

And he knows you won’t fault him for being selfish one more time.)

[cute-sucker]

note: this is an unofficial part 2 of this boxer!rafe and his sweetheart <3

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉‧₊˚.

boxer!rafe can't stop thinking about you pregnant, and some would say he got more protective when you did get pregnant.

you weren't showing yet, but he was always keeping a watchful eye on you, protective hand wandering to your midsection.

after the scare you gave him at the games, he watched you all the time, willfully bringing home more food than was needed, feeling willing to come back home when he heard your whines through the phone, and buying you the most beautiful sundresses ever.

sometimes the two of you would spend more time together, looking out the balcony as he smoked a cigarette, and you looked outside with a dazed expression, hand stroking your stomach. he watched the way your nose wrinkled when a trendil of smoke reached your nose.

you made a screwed face, and then looked back at rafe with a pointed look, "i don't like that."

the next day all the cigarettes in your house were gone, and he went back to boxing. it was sweet the way your small proclamation could command him to do anything. sometimes you couldn't help but test it. test how much he loved you, and how willing he was go to. you knew it was bad the way you were acting, but you ached for the attention.

so it was all to plan when you woke up craving a burger.

not just any burger. it needed to be homemade, or even one of the burgers that rafe had made you during your first date. you remember it so clearly, the way his hand scimmed past your back as he helped you chop the cucumbers, a soft hand twirling a tendril of your hair.

it was all in your head, and suddenly you needed the burger with your life. you were pawing at his chest, soft whines leaving your mouth. he woke suddenly, taking a deep inhale of air.

"what's wrong?" he muttered, words slurred with sleep. you couldn't feel but feel bad as you pouted at him. you were wearing a pretty nightgown with a bow at the top. you watched him scan your swollen body.

you were pulling all the routes as you lowered your voice, "i need a burger."

he looked at you incredulously, eyebrows raised putting his rough hand on your shoulder, "right now?"

you frowned, before rubbing your stomach, "yes."

he groaned, falling back to head head first. you bit your tongue to stop giggles from spilling out of your mouth. he was so soft with you now, and you knew that months ago he would never act like this. but you couldn't help but tug at his arm as a grunt fell from his mouth.

"do you really need it, mama?"

now you couldn't stop your smile. you loved it when he called you 'mama,' and you loved the gentle tilt of his mouth when he called you that. and you rested your head back, nodding. finally, he gave an annoyed sigh before getting out of bed.

"goddamn it," he groaned, pulling a cleaner shirt up his head. you rested at his feet watching him put on his clothes. there was something so domestic about the whole scenario. tanyhilll was full of pictures of the two of you, small pieces of the two of you.

finally, as if he realised you were watching him, he scowled looking at you. still in your nightgown with a frenzied look on your face, he seemed to sigh again.

"ah, don't you think you should change?" he murmured, hands skimming over your top. you melted at his touch, practically hopping into his lap with eagerness. he let out a laugh before gently pushing you away, "listen. you gotta change out of that. can't have you looking like that."

you gave him a cheeky smile as if it was the middle of the day instead of three in the morning. somehow you found increasing amounts of energy and rafe was always confused about how you did it all.

"look like what?"

he shook his head, eyes flashing with slight annoyance, "nah. 'm not doing that today. get up bun, 'n go change."

although he sounded demanding you couldn't help but feel your heart drum harder at his words, biting your lip as you pulled on one of his old sweatshirts.

that night you got your burger, and he got you.

please let me know if you'd like to added to the boxer!rafe taglist!!

[lemonsdietcoke]

Dark but just a game - player!230

Dark!Thanos/su bong x fem!reader

Warnings: dv(physical abuse),NONCON/dubcon,toxic/abusive relationship, drug abuse and use,mention of drugs, sick family member, thanos is readers ex, death, murder, gunshots, normally squid game stuff, also thanos is insane

Summary: Desperate to save your sick brother, you join a mysterious competition for a life-changing prize, only to discover it’s a brutal death game that your toxic ex also joined.

MINORS DNI!

A/n: Hey guys I haven’t written in a while but something about this man just inspired me lol but please give feedback and Imk if you guys like it!! (Also this is a new account so we starting from the bottom lol)

Don’t move. (chapter I)

The world feels like a hangover. A dry mouth, a pounding skull, and too much light bleeding through your eyelids. You wake up slowly, your body stiff and heavy, the taste of copper clinging to your tongue.

For a moment, you think you’re still at the hospital. That you must’ve fallen asleep in one of those unforgiving plastic chairs next to your brother’s bed.

But the voices pull you out of that lie.

Too many voices, sharp and overlapping, rising in confusion and panic. You open your eyes slowly, squinting against the too-bright light, and the world tilts.

You’re not at the hospital.

Rows of steel bunks stretch out endlessly around you, packed with people wearing identical green tracksuits. The walls are stark white, impossibly clean, and somewhere above you, a voice over the intercom drones something you’re too dazed to catch.

Your mouth is dry. Your head throbs. You sit up slowly, clutching the edge of the bunk, and glance down at the number stitched onto your jacket: 154

Panic claws at your chest. The memories flood back—

the card, the masked recruiter, his promise of billions of won. You’d taken the gamble, knowing it was reckless. Desperation had been louder than reason.

All for your brother.

“Player 154.”

The voice startles you, sharp and robotic. A guard in a black mask stands at the foot of your bunk, staring down at you with eerie stillness.

“This is your assigned bed. Remain in the dormitory until further instructions.”

You barely nod, your heart racing. The guard moves on, leaving you to sit there in your growing unease. All around, other players are murmuring, asking questions you’re too afraid to say aloud.

“Y/N.”

The sound of your name cuts through the noise, sharp and unmistakable.

Your body stiffens.

You don’t want to turn around. You don’t want to know if it’s really him.

But you do.

And there he is.

Thanos.

His hair is purple—loud and obnoxious, like a warning sign you can’t ignore. He’s taller than you remember, leaner too, but he still moves the same way. That lazy, confident stride that makes it look like he’s walking through a world that belongs to him.

Your stomach twists.

“Shit,” he says, stopping a few feet from you, hands in his pockets. His smirk is lazy, familiar. Too familiar. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze.

“What are you doing here?”

He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. The cross necklace around his neck glints under the lights as he moves, catching your attention. You know what’s inside.

“What are you doing here?” he shoots back, his smirk widening.

The question lingers between you, loaded with meaning. You both know it’s been months. Months of silence. Months since everything fell apart.

You shake your head, trying to steady your voice. “I asked first.”

Thanos hums thoughtfully, tapping the side of his jaw like he’s considering how to answer.

“Same reason as everyone else, I guess.” His gaze sweeps the room, lingering on the players milling around in their green tracksuits. “Money.”

Your chest tightens.

“And you?” he asks, his voice softer now. There’s something in his tone—something almost curious, like he’s genuinely surprised to see you here.

You don’t answer.

Instead, you glare at him, your pulse pounding in your ears. He’s the last person you wanted to see here. The last person you wanted to see ever.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than to him.

But Thanos hears. His smirk falters for a split second, replaced by something sharper. Something darker.

Then he laughs—that same laugh. The one that used to make your heart race.

Now it just makes your skin crawl.

“Relax, baby.” His voice drops lower, more intimate. Too intimate. “Not everything’s about you.”

You flinch at the nickname.

He notices. Of course he notices.

His grin softens, almost playful. “Damn,” he murmurs, his gaze lingering on you a moment too long. “I forgot how cute you get when you’re pissed off.”

Your jaw clenches. “Fuck off, su bong.”

“Ouch.” He presses a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. “You wound me.”

You shake your head, turning away. You’re done. You won’t do this.

But his voice follows you, playful and biting.

“Come on, Y/N. We’re stuck here together. Might as well catch up.”

You don’t stop walking.

You don’t look back.

And even as the cheerful voice crackles over the intercom—“Welcome, players! The first game will begin shortly.”—you can still feel his gaze on you, heavy and unrelenting.

~~~~~~~~~~

The room is pink.

It’s not the soft, comforting pink of a nursery or a flower petal. It’s too bright, too artificial, like something out of a twisted candy store. The color bounces off the walls, saturating the air with a strange, suffocating cheerfulness that feels completely out of place.

The players shuffle inside, eyes darting around the room, murmuring quietly to each other. The atmosphere is light—no one knows what’s coming yet.

You move with the crowd, your footsteps echoing off the floor. The pink walls are lined with screen-like cameras, each one displaying the reflection of the player in front of it.

“Holy shit.”

The voice cuts through the room, sharp and excited. You turn toward the commotion, your heart sinking.

“Is that Thanos?”

It’s easy to spot him in the crowd. He strides through the room like he owns it, his purple hair gleaming under the fluorescent lights. His cross necklace swings lazily with each step, catching the light, and his expression is the same as always—smug, self-assured, like the world is exactly where he wants it to be.

A murmur spreads through the crowd as people recognize him.

“No way.”

“That’s really him?”

He grins, clearly enjoying the attention. Players gather around him, some whispering excitedly, others not even recognizing him or noticing the commotion.

“Yo, Thanos!” someone calls out. “Can we get a picture with you?”

Thanos raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Like a group photo?”

“Yeah! Come on, let’s do it!”

The group presses closer, jostling for space around him. Players laugh, throwing their arms around each other’s shoulders, posing like it’s some casual get-together instead of a game with unknown rules.

You stand at a distance, watching with quiet irritation.

Of course he’s loving this. He always loved being the center of attention. Even now, when everything feels wrong, he’s soaking it all in—the admiration, the laughter, the fleeting sense of normalcy.

Then his gaze finds you.

His grin shifts, turning sharper, more playful. He raises a hand, beckoning you over before pointing at you.

Your stomach twists.

“You coming?” His voice is loud, teasing, drawing attention your way. “Come on y/n, we’ve got room for one more.”

The players glance between you and him, their curiosity piqued. Whispers ripple through the crowd.

“You guys know each other?”

You clench your fists, forcing yourself to breathe. He’s doing this on purpose. He always knew how to push your buttons, how to get under your skin.

“Go fuck yourself, Thanos,” you snap, your voice cutting through the chatter.

He laughs, tipping his head back. That laugh.

“Ouch,” he says, pressing a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “Come on, baby. For old times’ sake?”

You glare at him. “I’m not your baby.”

Before he can reply, a guard speaks up. His voice is sharp, commanding.

“You are not allowed to do this.”

The players freeze, the cheerful atmosphere evaporating in an instant. The guard’s presence—silent and menacing—makes the room feel colder despite the garish pink walls.

“You want to get in the picture? Come on.” Thanos smirks cockily gesturing his head towards the screen.

“You must take your photos one by one” the guard explains leaving no room for argument.

As the player others player groan and argue with the guard you take the opportunity to focus on your own picture.

The camera flickers to life, showing your reflection in stark detail. Your face lacked its normal vibrance under the bright lights, your eyes tired, your hair falling messily around your face.

“Look at the camera! Smile :)”, the screen tells you in a cheerful voice.

You hesitate for a moment before letting a soft smile tug at your lips. Not too happy. Not too sad. Just enough to say: I’m here.

The flash goes off.

And just like that, it’s over.

~~~~~~~~~~

The sky stretches endlessly overhead, the kind of bright blue, cloudless sky that belongs in childhood memories—not here, not now. The sun is warm against your skin, the breeze gentle, carrying the scent of grass and dirt. It feels too perfect. Too normal.

The players around you chat quietly, their voices light with curiosity.

“What’s with the doll?”

“Think we’ll win points for style?”

“This is going to be so easy.”

You take a deep breath, trying to shake the unease clinging to your chest. You tell yourself it’s just nerves—everyone’s nervous, right? But the way the doll looms in the distance, her painted eyes wide and unblinking, makes your stomach twist.

A robotic yet cheerful female voice echos throughout the game room.

“The rules are simple,” she chirps,“When the doll says ‘green light,’ you may move. When it says ‘red light,’ you must stop. Any player who moves during ‘red light’ will be eliminated.”

The word hangs heavy in the air.

Eliminated.

Someone snickers behind you. “They really went all out with the theatrics, huh?”

You glance over your shoulder and catch a familiar figure standing a few rows ahead.

Thanos.

He’s got his hands in his pockets, his head tilted back like he’s enjoying the sun. His purple hair stands out against the sea of green tracksuits, messy and unapologetic.

A woman near him whispers something, giggling as she points at the doll. Thanos glances at her, his lips curving into a lazy smile.

“Green light!”

The voice is sweet, sing-song, and the crowd surges forward like kids on a playground. You take a step, then another. The grass is soft beneath your feet, the sun warming the back of your neck.

This is fine. It’s just a game.

“Red light!”

You stop, your body going still. The doll’s head swivels slowly, her mechanical eyes scanning the crowd.

It’s quiet for a moment. Then—

CRACK.

The sound makes you flinch.

A man near the front falls to the ground.

At first, you think he tripped. You squint, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing. He’s lying face-down in the dirt, his limbs twisted awkwardly.

Then you see the blood pooling beneath his head.

“What the hell?” someone mutters.

Another crack. Another body drops.

The crowd goes still.

You feel it—the shift in the air. The unease turning to panic.

Then, someone screams.

Chaos erupts.

Players break into a sprint, shoving each other out of the way, their shoes pounding against the dirt. The gunfire comes immediately—sharp, relentless, merciless. Bodies fall mid-stride, hitting the ground with sickening thuds. Blood sprays the grass, staining the dirt a dark, muddy red.

The smell hits you—iron and earth and something metallic.

“Stop moving!”

The voice comes from near the front—Player 456. His jacket is streaked with dirt, his eyes wide with panic.

“If you run, you’ll die! Don’t run! Follow my lead!”

The words barely register over the sound of gunfire. You stand frozen, your chest heaving. You can’t breathe. You can’t think.

Then, movement catches your eye.

Thanos.

Rushing through the crowd like he’s having the time up his life. Running, skipping even jumping in the air like a little kid.

“Red light!”

Then, without warning, he shoves a man in front of him.

The man stumbles, colliding with two others. They fall like dominoes, their limbs flailing as they hit the ground.

CRACK.

CRACK.

CRACK.

Blood splatters across the grass, dark and sticky.

You stare, horrified, as a spray of crimson streaks across Thanos’ face and tracksuit. It drips from his chin, smearing across his cheek.

He doesn’t wipe it away.

He doesn’t flinch.

And then—he smiles.

It’s a genuine, crooked smile. Like he’s done something clever. Like he’s proud of himself.

“Green light!”

Your stomach churns. You force yourself to move, bile rising in your throat. One step. Then another.

You keep your eyes on the finish line, trying not to look at the bodies sprawled across the field. You can’t look.

“Red light!”

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest.

The doll’s head swivels again, her lifeless eyes scanning the field. The silence stretches painfully thin.

Then—

“Green light!”

You lurch forward, your legs trembling with exhaustion. The finish line is so close now.

When you cross it, your knees give out, and you collapse onto the grass, gasping for air.

Your hands are stained red. You don’t even know whose blood it is.

Footsteps approach.

Slow. Casual.

Thanos.

He walks past you, his hands tucked into his pockets. The blood on his tracksuit is drying, darkening to a deep rust. A streak of it smears across his cheek, standing out starkly against his pale skin.

He doesn’t look at the bodies. He doesn’t look at the blood.

But as he passes you, he glances down.

His smirk is sharp enough to cut.

“Guess I’m not the only one with good instincts,” he says, his voice light, mocking.

You don’t respond.

Because all you can think about is the bodies still lying on the field.

And the way he smiled through the blood.

[whambambatfam]

Webs of a Wing

Chapter 1

I am not well versed in DC knowledge. I've read a bunch of the older comics but, honestly, these timelines are too confusing to say I have a firm grasp on what the fuck is happening at any given point.

Anyways, this is my story, I made a tumbler for it. I'll definitely upload again..

When the fly on the wall starts to spin webs of their own, can the bats catch on? Or will they be left to dangle in the web they've tangled?

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You're hardly school aged when you wake in a strange place, vague memories of someone patting your head as you fall asleep. Then it was all blurry and you went from cold hard ground, suddenly, to a warm bed worth more than you've ever seen.

Laying still, staring up at the ceiling, you lay dazed until you hear the door starting to creak open. Quickly shutting your eyes you wait for the suspect to peak inside.

When his voice sounds, back on the other side of the door, you perk up, "Who's this? They're kinda cute." A boy, most likely a few years older than you.

When that deep, fear inducing voice reaches for you, you jump out of bed after it. "Apparently, my child." He couldn't possibly be talking about you, right?

You make your way silently to the creaked door. Peeping through to watch them. "Huh? What?? Like seriously???" Hands resting on his hips, a boy of black hair and lean physique gapes.

A tall man with a build as intimidating as his voice, "Yes, I've run a DNA test and everything." His large arms cross over his broad chest.

Mirroring the older man's stance, the boy questions, "So, who's the mom?"

"I'm still working on that.."

"Have you.. asked them?"

There's a heaviness lingering in the hall around them. "We don't know if they'll talk yet, not till they wake up." He doesn't like not having answers, clearly.

"Can they?"

Swinging the door open, you bark out at your own defense, "I knew how'd to talk!"

His shoulder shot up, face blossoming in embarrassment, "Oh, sorry." Sighing, he tries to appear nonchalant. "Well, heyyy.. kid.. My name's Dick.” Placing a hand on your shoulder, he smiles, “Guess I'll be like, your, uh, big brother?"

Eyes widening, you step away from his grasp. Being in a strange place with strange people claiming to be your family was concerning. Even in your young mind, alarm bells rang loud and clear.

Like a light shining through your darkest times, his voice cut through the tension. “This may be all too much for,” A man, much older than either, rests his hand on your back, “the newly young master Wayne.” He ushers you gently back into the room. All gentle pats and kind smiles as he insists on you resting.

You never spoke about who or where you came from. It hurts to try, to think of the cold, the dark, the pain, the fear. Push out all the bad. Make it just go away. You just wanted it to go away. Wanted to take every memory of before and lock it up, never to be found. So, that's what you did, burying every painful memory. After some time, your young mind turned repression into suppression. Now, left with only bits and pieces, you couldn't remember even if you wanted to.

So, you’ll need to fill in the emptiness with this fresh start.

Life in the Wayne house started off joyfully. You found serenity in the solitude of the manor, disconnected from the rest of Gotham. When Alfred wasn't pushing tedious homeschooling work, you explored the massive house you'd be calling home. The quietude of empty ballrooms, winding halls and stodgy gardens was your respite. While it wasn't a place made for children, you felt at peace for the first time. The perfect home for a ghost with plenty of walls for flies and flowers alike.

Coming from unknown origins with no paperwork to speak of left you in a peculiar predicament. As a child was low grasp on the passage of time, you couldn't exactly say how old you were. Let alone when your birth date was. No one has ever bothered to tell you and if they have you certainly weren't going to remember. Infact, at Alfreds insists on a celebration, he comes to find you've never truly experienced a birthday of any kind. He had to correct this at once, give you a proper one with cake, singing and presents. It makes him wonder what sort of childhood you've been plucked from.

“Well, young master.” Alfred takes your hands as you climb the step stool next to him, “It's been a year now since you've joined us at the manor.”

Your hands slap onto the counter when you finally reach it. “Yeah, I like it.” Smiling wide up at the old butler, you babble on, “everything is so big and warm and it smells nice and I like when you cook and I wanna cook too and-” Alfred hushes your ramblings with a hand on your head.

“Yes, that's lovely, my child.” The other hand opens a draw nearby. “And that's what we'll be doing today.”

You tilt your head as the hand on it brushes over it and falls away, “Cooking?” Craning your neck, you try to peek at the cards he flips through.

“Well, baking, but yes.” He confirms, offering you a smile that's warm and sweet like his cookies, “Today was the day you joined the family, it's as good a day as any for a party.”

Your eyes light up, “A party for what?”

“Your birthday, my dear.” He chuckles softly at your look of awe,“Today will be your birthday, and every year I shall make you a cake.”

“Woah, every year?” You gasp as he hafs you the small stack of cards, each a handwritten cake recipe. While you can't read them yet, there are pictures of each cake pasted alongside the words. “That's a lot of cakes.. Can I help?”

“Whichever you like most we'll bake.” You're quick to pick one, waving the card around frantically, “I would be honored to have your help as well, young master.”

Alfred got to work with measurements, letting you pour everything into the bowls. He shows you how to mix, guiding you hand over hand when you struggle. You can't help spilling half of you what you're given, covering the counters. Sliding the pan batter into the oven, Alfred has you assist by wiping away your mess.

As he begins readying ingredients for frosting you ask, “Are those guys gonna join us?”

You're too busy scrubbing batter from your stool to see the way he deflates. “Unfortunately, your father and brother are tied up in something.” He sighs, taking the rag and finishing your job. With a sullen smile he hands you a measuring cup of sugar, “Perhaps next year.”

The night is spent merrily celebrating. When it cools Alfred frosts and decorates your cake. He places a number of candles, It's the first of many birthdays spent with just you and Alfred.

The next years were your first time in true schooling, a prestigious boarding school to boot. You couldn't remember seeing so many other children before. The eyes you received from strangers when given your new last name made your skin crawl. Deciding to forgo it in most encounters. Yet, for some reason to a great number of your fellow classmates, that fact seemed to matter greatly. If you met someone who insisted or withheld their friendship without, then you'd simply roll your eyes, never speaking to them.

You decided friends weren't important, instead making it your goal to not just succeed but to exceed. If this was your shot of a real family, you wanted to show them you were something capable. Worthy. You were hopeful, determined in getting close.

Only to be pushed aside at every opportunity.

“I got’ perfect score!” The words burst from you with such excitement you're bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Bruce doesn't even bother to look at the paper you're frantically waving at him. Simply mumbling as he places his mug in the sink, “Very nice.” Before turning to Dick, “Come on, son. It's time to go.” You thought maybe this was how a father was supposed to be. Cold, distant and hardly ever around for someone so small.

Alfred steps up from behind your slumped form. Plucking the paper from your dejected gaze. He hums softly before you hear a rap on the fridge beside you. “Wonderful job young master.” You smile for him as he pats your head. Happy to have at least someone’s acknowledgement.

From what your classmates say, a big brother will either pick on you or support you. Soon you came to find that living with Dick Grayson didn't guarantee you any of his time. Good or bad.

So, despite the terror that being center stage fills you with, you entered your school's spelling bee. The thought that maybe you could possibly impress them gave you just enough nerve.

“Hey, um, Dickie...” When you catch his sleeve, your teeth skin into your cheeks. He peeks over his shoulder at you, “Here, it's a competition.”

His nose wrinkles slightly before he smiles. “Spelling bee?” Not a real smile, you don't get those. It's a empty, meaningless thing that hardly lifts his lips.

“If you're not busy.” You clasp your fingers together, steeling your nerves.

“Uh, yeah. Maybe.” It’s thinly masked disgust if anything.

Time came to discuss bringing you into the public eye, an official declaration of your relationship with the Wayne's. Just the thought of it was unsettling, like placing a target on your back. The last place you want to be is the spot light.

“I don't wanna go. I won't go.” It was then in that moment, when the words left your lips, you could see it in his eyes.

A wave of relief Dick couldn't quite stifle, lip touching at the corner before turning to Bruce, “Maybe they're just scared of all those new people. With everyone looking at them, seeing them as your..” That uptick in his features falters slightly, “first child, technically.” Back then, you thought he cared. That this was actually for your protection. “It's a lot of pressure, maybe it would be better. For them, to stay safe.”

Bruce crosses his arms, examining his older child before looking back to the younger. “You have a point there, Dick.” You've twisted your fingers into Alfreds pant leg, half hidden behind him. “Fine. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to. It might even be for the better.” Neither of them wanted you there, thinly veiled behind words of care, never quit saying it.

Not once then did you realize. There was nothing you could do, nothing you could say, nothing you could show for. Nothing to make them see you, the real you. You couldn't provide them with anything, that made you useless.

“Very well, Master Bruce.” With a sigh, Alfred guides you away as the two leave. He was always the one in your corner. Before you even know this life would be a battle.

This give on the topic began your gradual slope into obscurity. In the hectic years of adolescence, you'd come to the conclusion that private schools are for snobs. You manage to convince the old butler, with baked goods, to allow a change of schools. Not wanting to slow your studies yet overwhelmed by your known family reputation. Public school seemed viable, no one had to know who you really were. There seemed to be no object, or real acknowledgment of this decision.

You used to believe, despite how they act, this was it, this would be your family and you could be happy. Surely, you thought, it's because you're new to them. It must be hard to connect, you found it quite difficult yourself.

So, you decided, you'll just need to put in more effort. Show them that there is something that you and they can do together. You took up everything you Alfred offered to teach you when he was around. You learned to cook, sew and clean the whole manor faster than the master butler himself.

Of course, he had other priorities, not just as your caretaker. Try as he might to keep you at the top of that list, he still has duties to attend. So, you would take your days, even weeks, alone with stride. A good time to build your skills on your own, finding new ways to utilize them. Hoping for something, anything, to bridge the gap with your new family.

“I'll be home late today, Al.” While you had gotten away from uptight private schooling, Alfred still set into a well funded school.

He gives a light chuckle of disbelief over the phone, “You have plans, young master?” Pinching the device between your shoulder and ear, you fumble through your first ever locker.

“It's just a club, I'll still need you to pick me up after.” With all your free time, you thought you'd use more of your growing skills.

“At your service my dear.”

You took time to catch on, years of peeling away from the background. Picking and pulling apart from the inside out, finding something that could peak their interest. Hoping to think twice, even once to turn their heads back to the lone manner.

That's how you found them, their secrets; and the life that pulled them as taunt in one direction as the other did. Digging for a way that you could connect from beyond the twice eye catching lives they live day and night. You were piled with reasoning when you found that special place in the library they all seemed to love. The idea of passing the security felt out of reach at the time.

Walking along the dark water line, looking out to the misty sky. You don't wish for misfortune, but you wait. When that light flickers on and that familiar symbol reflects on the dark Gotham clouds, your breath catches. Ducking alonge the rocky cliff wall by the large alcove, you listen to the rumble. You brace yourself as something in the shallow cave opens, the rumble growing.

Then you have your answer. The Batmobile comes billowing out of the cave, in its wake you hide. Long after its departure from the property, you emerge from your hiding spot. Slipping through the closing doors and wandering down into the bat cave.

Despite how they see through you most times, you're sure Alfred knows when you sneak in. So, appreciating this to be Alfred throwing his hand up and hiding his eyes for your sake.

It's awe inspiring to say the least, especially knowing you live above it every day. It felt like peeking through the lives of strangers and you couldn't look away. You don't know why he kept it from you but you didn't want to be shut out for knowing. Yet, you couldn't satiate your curiosity with just this visit.

You had told Alfred you had a meeting after a club and that you would be home late. For some strange reason he promised Dick would pick you up.

Water splashes up from a speeding tire as you walk along the misty Gotham streets, “Aw man, come on!” Of course Dick didn't show! Why would he? When has he ever?

Now, in this situation, Alfred would wish for you to call him for assistance.

“Over there! Look, look!” Across the intersection a pair gasps and squeals, fingers pointed up at the Boy Wonder. The last thing on his mind as he leapt through the night sky, was an unwanted sister.

If only Alfead could get everything he's ever wished for, but you're not a fairy.

Following gunshot and bangs you skirt around chaos, nearly avoiding an obvious outbreak of costumed thugs. You watch in ired fascination as they beat down each threat thoroughly. As the moon starts to sit lower again and the bad guys are carted away, you realize how long you've been gone.

You arrive at the gates in tune to be blown past by the Batmobile. Inside, Alfred gives you a look as if he knows every secret you've even kept. Thankfully he doesn't say a word, You're out of your damp clothes by the time the dynamic duo ascend to the manor.

For people of the shadows, they never could seem to see you creeping through them.

It's through this that you managed to learn about Barbra Gordon. The commissioner's daughter was someone you could only catch glimpses of from time to time. It was rare for you to catch her attention. Much too preoccupied with her work for the Bat, your father.

The batgirl's skill inspired your own delve into tech. Hacking, coding and even trying your hand at tinkering with new devices. Creations that you've jerry-rigged and hoped against hope that she would even glance at.

She's coming over today, you overheard dick say so. You've poked your head over the banister as you wait to spot the red head. Yet, once she's there, you freeze. Dick and Barbara push through the front doors together. Light rain chasing them inside from the sturing storm. Their foot falls followed by light laughter and easy chitchat. If only it was so easy for you.

You watch as your brother scurries off, promising to grab a towel. This is your shot. “Oh, um!” Words are coming from you before you even know what to say. Stumbling over yourself, you bumble over, haltung in front of her. “B-Barbra?”

“Huh, who?” At the ruckus you've made, she whips around. Head on a swivel 'till green eyes locking on you. “Oh! It's you.. uh..” looking you up and down she stumbles as well.

You have to give her your name, again.

“Right, right. Sorry.” Barbra looks off sheepishly, carting a hand through her hair. Hand flicking droplets from the ginger ringlets.

“It's okay..” that's alright, that's normal Even. You don't see each other all that often.. even though you remembered her name just fine. “I just want to ask you about some-” Unfortunately, yet unsurprisingly, she cuts you off before you can pull out what you want to share with her.

“I've actually got to-” Her mouth snaps shut before she thinks better of words, “Well, um, talk with Bruce.” She finishes with an awkward chuckle and mumbled “Y'know how it is. Always something with the Wayne's.”

No, “Yeah..” You didn't know.

You've never shared more than a last name with the Wayne's.

Patting your head she smiles, “Sorry again, hun. Maybe later?” turning away down the hall Dick had disappeared to. Even to the all seeing eye you were nothing but a mere fly on the wall.

Gothams streets were dark, dangerous, and the only place you could see them for more than a minute. You loved nights like this, when you could slip from the manor. Undetected by the inattentive gazes that should have kept a preteen like you home.

With this habit of bird watching, you found yourself looking more into your subpar self defense. Living in Gotham has given you a natural caution but all too often you've wound up in tight situations. All because you couldn't keep your eyes off them. Maybe if you show them you could do that, fight back, they might see you.

You put yourself out there over and over, “Uh, d-dad?” Alfred insisted you call him that, but it never felt right, “I've been doing, um, I have this..” taking a breath you force it out, “It's martial arts, could you come see me?”

Another paper half glance at before the typical, “I'll see what I can do.”

Apparently, there are some things even Batman can't do.

“H-hey.. I, uh, am doing..” You pull out the flier for your competition. inspecting it over before looking to see him. Half-heartedly glancing up from his comic, Dick gives you a once over before continuing to read, “Gymnastics.”

Finally his eyes hold yours when the word shoots from your mouth. For a second you think this is it. This is when you’ll finally have his attention. Finally make that long awaited connection with your big brother. “I'll see, why don't you ask Bruce?” Dick lays the paper on the living room table in front of him.

“I did... he said the same thing.”

The paper is still there when you come back later.

[chancloud8]

Teach Me {3}

<< previous chapter || next chapter >> series masterlist

Pairing: Felix x Reader, Hyunjin x Reader

Word Count: 3,4k

Tags: fluff, kissing, neck kisses, friends to ?

Summary: you finally talk with all the guys about their offer. felix shows you the wonders of neck kisses and hyunjin can't help but join the fun.

a/n: for some reason this chapter took me forever. from now on more of the guys will get with reader and it will get steamier every chapter ;)

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You call Chan when you're in the elevator, your phone pressed between your cheek and your shoulder as you wait for him to pick up. Multiple plastic bags filled with food hang on your wrists and in your hands you have carton holders filled with drinks.

'Come on,' you mutter slightly annoyed when Chan isn't answering.

You knew you should have called literally any of the other guys. Chan usually has his phone muted while he's working and while you don't blame him for that, it's definitely annoying now.

The doors of the elevator open, showing an empty hallway with absolutely no where to put down the drinks for a bit. With a curse you shuffle forward, holding onto the cartons with dear life as you pray for more strength.

'STRAY KIDS!' you yell, hoping your voice will carry through the walls.

You might be at a recording studio, but only the actual booth they sing in is fully soundproof. It only takes about five seconds before a door opens and Changbin and Seungmin stick their heads out, a curious look adorning their faces.

'Help?' you let out, smiling hopefully at them.

The both of them rush forward. Changbin reaches you first and takes over the cartons with drinks. Seungmin is next and he carefully pulls your phone from its place between your cheek and shoulder, putting it in his pocket and helping you with the bags of food.

'Why didn't you call us?' he asks, frowning down at you.

'I did!' you argue. 'I just made the mistake to dial Chan.'

Changbin laughs ahead of you. 'You should know better, Bunny.'

You grumble under your breath and follow them inside the room, closing the door behind you. The guys are all piled up on the two couches again, scrolling on their phones, with the exception of Chan who's behind his laptop with his headphones on.

'How long has he been like that?' you ask, getting the attention of everyone in the room but Chan.

'Y/N! You're here!' Jeongin waves at you from where he lays upside down on the couch.

'Didn't you hear me yell?' you laugh, gesturing to Changbin and Seungmin who are putting out the food you brought.

'They're too obsessed with their phones,' Seungmin says, rolling his eyes.

Felix gets up from the couch to hug you and Hyunjin follows, kissing your cheek.

'Thanks for bringing us food,' they chorus together as if they practised it beforehand.

You giggle at them and open your arms to hug Jeongin who dribbles your way like he drank way too much caffeine. You're about to ask him about it when he surprises you by pulling you against his body and kissing your lips. It's just a quick and soft peck, but it still takes your breath away and when he pulls away you blink up at him dumbly.

'INNIE,' Hyunjin screeches in surprise while Felix bursts out in laughter. 

Jeongin giggles and shrugs, calmly walking back to the couch like nothing happened. 

'Baby bread, what was that?' Lee Know's voice sounds from behind you and you turn around in confusion. 

Where did he come from? Had he been in the room before? You hadn't noticed him before now. 

He smiles down at you and pats your head. 'Will you go get Chan and Sungie? We have dance practice after dinner.' 

You nod and still a little dazed, you move to where Chan still hadn't noticed you arrived. You put your hands over his eyes from behind him and he startles, letting out a funny sound before ripping his headphones from his head. 

'Y/N?' he asks when he hears you giggle. 

'How did you know it was me?' you ask as you remove your hands so he can turn around and face you. 

'You have tiny soft hands and Felix wouldn't dare startle me like this when I'm working,' Chan says, grabbing your wrists and pulling you forward into a hug. 

It's a bit of an awkward position because he's still sitting down, but you bury your face in his neck anyways. Chan always gave the best hugs. 

'Come on, I brought food,' you say, pulling back. 'Where's Hannie?' 

'Here!' Jisung's voice sounds from behind you and you feel a soft tap against your ass. 

'Hey!' you laugh, turning around, but Jisung was already tackling Lee Know to the ground for a piece of fried chicken.

You watch them fondly for a while, Chan doing the same behind you, but then his stomach growls loudly and you turn to glare at him. 

'Christopher, when did you last eat?' you ask him sternly, holding out your hand for him to help him up. 

He takes your hand, but instead of answering he leads you towards the table filled with the food you brought and fills his mouth with chicken so he doesn't have to say anything. 

You narrow your eyes and point your finger at him. 'I'm going to make Lee Know kick your ass at dance practice.' 

Chan's eyes widen comically and Lee Know laughs from his spot on the floor, giving you a thumbs up. 

'Y/N, come eat,' Felix says, patting the spot behind him. 

You move to sit between him and Hyunjin and accept the chopsticks Changbin hands you from Felix's other side. Seungmin slides a plate your way, every inch of it covered in different kinds of sushi and meat and you smile at him in thanks before popping a piece of beef in your mouth. 

'Is no one going to talk about Innie kissing Y/N?' Hyunjin asks, glancing between you and Jeongin with his eyebrows raised, a piece of sushi hangs between his chopsticks as he waits for anyone to say something. 

'There's nothing to talk about Hyung,' Jeongin replies, reaching for his drink. 'We kissed yesterday too.' 

'What?' Hyunjin drops his chopsticks. 'Seriously?' 

'You didn't tell them?' you laugh, a bit surprised since you thought he would have texted them when you left. 

'He told me,' Chan says between bites.

'You were basically there for the show,' you roll your eyes at him. 'I thought you guys would have talked about this. That we'd talk about it more today, you know,-' you hesitate a moment, looking down at your plate. 'About the offer?' 

'We did talk about it,' Felix places his hand on your knee. 'Innie just left out the part where he got to kiss you already.' 

You look up with a frown. 'See, this is why I'm worried. You guys can't act like this is some sort of competition and I don't want things to get weird between us, or you guys.' 

'We discussed that as well,' Lee Know pipes up from across the table. 'We want to do this for you and we want you to be comfortable.' 

'Without weirdness,' Jisung smiles from next to Lee Know. 

'Look,' Chan says, putting down his plate. 'We can't promise it won't get a little complicated sometimes, because we're all human and with certain actions come certain feelings.' 

You feel your cheeks heating up at his words, but you nod because he's right. 'That's another reason why I've been hesitant. What if certain feelings do develop? Do we stop then? Will you tell me?'

The guys all share a look with each other and it's like they're communicating without words. They do that a lot and while it's usually something you love, it feels a little frustrating now. 

'Maybe we shouldn't do this,' you say, chewing on your lip. 'Maybe it's a stupid idea.' 

'Maybe you're overthinking it,' Changbin smiles at you. 'It doesn't have to be complicated. We're friends first, yeah? We've known each other for a long time and we can trust each other. Agreed?' 

You nod. 'Yes of course.' 

'Okay, so let us do this for you. Don't think too much, but keep telling us how you feel and we'll do the same,' Changbin continues. 

'Let's just see where it goes and if you want to stop at any time, we'll stop,' Chan adds. 

A little voice in the back of your mind tells you it's almost like they want it too much, but for some reason, even while it probably would have been wise to say no,  you can't deny that you want them to teach you. Their reactions make you feel warm and wanted and you do trust them.

 All their eyes are locked on you, waiting, and so you find yourself nodding once more. 

'Yes?' Chan's lips curl up in a grin and all the guys around him mirror the action. 

'Yes,' you nod again, grinning back at them. 'Now can we please eat?' 

They laugh and everyone digs in again, enjoying the food you brought. You happily eat from the plate Seungmin made for you and listen to the guys chatting about the songs they're working on. This was good, familiar, comfortable. 

After dinner Chan goes back to his computer with Jisung and Changbin to listen to the last recording they made, while the rest cleans up and gets ready for dance practice. 

'How can you even train so soon after dinner?' you ask no one in particular, rubbing your full belly. 'I don't even want to think about moving and you ate more than me.' 

'We're growing boys,' Changbin yells from where he's sitting next to Chan, flexing his biceps. 

'Bin, we know your muscles are impressive, no need to show off,' you tease, but your eyes linger anyways and he notices. 

'You sure? You can take a picture if you want?' he grins and you stick out your tongue at him before looking away. 

'I guess we're used to it,' Felix says from where he's stretching on the floor. 'And it won't be for at least another half hour until we have the training room.' 

'Still too soon for me,' you chuckle, sitting back down on the couch and curling your legs up underneath your body. 

You watch Felix, Hyunjin and Lee Know go through their warm-up with little to no shame, sitting back quietly and tracking their movements with your eyes. They're really flexible, especially Lee Know, and while you knew this already, you're still impressed by his cat-like movements. 

'Like what you see?' Jeongin grins, letting his body fall down on the couch beside you. 

Felix looks up, his big brown eyes meeting yours and you suppress a shiver. They're so insanely beautiful, you've always thought so, but now that you know he's going to get close and personal with you soon, they hit you differently. 

'Yup,' you admit, smiling at Felix. 'I'm very envious of how they move.' 

'You know this is just stretching right?' Felix laughs, bending his torso towards his knees. 'Anyone can do it.' 

You let out a snort. 'Not me, that's for sure. I'm stiff as a board. I tried yoga a few months ago, it was horrible.' 

'So you're saying we have another thing to teach you?' Hyunjin laughs, rolling his shoulders while basically sitting in a split. 

Shaking your head you get up from the couch to walk around him. 'Nope, I'll never be able to do that. You're insane.' 

Lee Know, who's also on the floor, grabs your wrist when you walk by him and pulls you down to the floor. You nearly lose your balance, but he easily catches you and motions for you to sit. 

'You could have just asked,' you mumble, sitting down cross legged. 

'Stretch your legs in front of you,' Lee Know says, ignoring your questioning look. 

You move your legs in front of you, wiggling your toes, as you put your hands on the floor beside you before looking at him again, your eyebrows raised as you have no clue what he wants you to achieve here. You didn't lie about not being flexible. 

'Now open your legs as far as you can,' Lee Know instructs. 

You can't help but gape at him. Say what now? Was he serious? It isn't lost on you that the sentence could have a very different meaning as well and suddenly you feel hot all over. 

'I think you broke her,' Felix giggles from your other side. 

You blink a few times and look to your left, just in time to see Felix crawl your way. He had no right. No fucking right to look like that, to crawl towards you with a flushed face and big brown doe eyes. Nope. You quickly look at Lee Know again to see him smiling at you. 

Taking a deep breath you look down at your legs and will yourself to spread them as wide as you can, which is not wide at all. It's pathetic really. 

'That's it?' Hyunjin asks from across from you and you look up to glare at him. 

'I told you!' 

'Relax,' Felix's voice sounds in your ear. 

You do the exact opposite, your whole body tenses at how close he is. His breath fans your neck as he takes a seat behind you, his legs stretching out beside yours and he presses his chest against your back. Heat radiates from him and your whole body tingles where he touches you. 

Breathe, you tell yourself. It's just Felix. 

'Relax,' Felix repeats, taking your hands in his and allowing you to lean against him. 'Just breathe for a minute and relax your muscles.' 

It seems impossible at first, but when Hyunjin and Lee Know continue their own stretches and Felix just breathes slowly and steadily behind you, you slowly feel the tension leave your body. 

'Good,' Felix whispers when you sag against him a bit more. 'Now when you're ready, we're going to move a little okay, just follow my lead.' 

You nod, not trusting your voice and when he puts a little pressure against your back with his chest, you move forwards. Immediately you feel the muscles of your groin pull and burn, but before you can say anything, Felix gently places his hands on your hips and moves the two of you back, to the side and then forward again. He repeats the movements a few times and while your muscles still burn, it doesn't hurt. 

'You okay?' Felix asks softly. 

'Mhm,' you hum. 'I'm not sure this will help though.' 

He chuckles and his chest vibrates against your back. 'Not right now, but if you practise this every day, it will.' 

You turn your head to look at him with raised eyebrows. 'And what makes you think I will?' 

Felix tightens his hands on your hips. 'Because you want to get more flexible?'

Lee Know lets out a laugh from beside you, but you ignore him, your eyes still focused on Felix while your brain obsesses over the feeling of Felix his hands on you. 

'And that's all I have to do?' 

'No,' Felix smiles. 'But I can teach you some more exercises.' 

It would actually be nice to be a bit more flexible and to not get muscle aches so often after doing simple tasks. 

'And what would you want in return?' you ask just Felix presses a feather light kiss just under your ear. 

A funny feeling erupts in your belly and you melt against him, craning your neck without even thinking about it. It's like your body moves on instinct. 

Felix chuckles deeply and hovers his mouth over the exposed side of your neck, his breath fanning your skin. 

'Why would I want anything in return when I already have you right where I want you,' he whispers in your ear, his voice so low you barely hear him. 

What? 

'What?' you voice your thoughts and it comes out with a crack. 

'Hmm?' Felix hums against your neck and for a moment you wonder if you didn't hear him correctly. 

It wouldn't be weird with what he's doing to your brain somehow. It's like your thoughts are hazy and all you can think about is how nice his soft lips feel against your hot skin. 

'What are you doing?' you whisper, your voice sounding weird to your ears, a little breathless. 

Felix doesn't lift his head as he replies. 'Giving you an unplanned lesson, I guess.' His lips attach to your neck again, pressing a trial of soft kisses all the way to where your neck meets your shoulder. 

You shiver, but don't argue. It feels nice and way better than you thought it would so you let him have his way, closing your eyes to somehow savour the feeling. When his teeth graze your skin, you let out a soft noise, startling yourself and your eyes snap open, meeting Hyunjin's gaze across from you. 

Shit. You somehow forgot you and Felix weren't alone. 

'It's okay,' Felix mumbles. 'Relax.' 

His voice has always been soothing to you, but right now it's even more powerful somehow and you once again melt into him. You trust him. 

'Good, close your eyes,' Felix whispers, while his left arm wraps around your waist, keeping you in place against him. 

You do as he says and when his right hand moves to your chin to gently tilt your head even further to the side, you let him. You'd probably let him do anything he wants right now. 

Felix kisses your neck again, more open mouthed this time and when his tongue sneaks out to taste your skin, another noise escapes your throat. It kind of tickles, but in a good way and you can't help but arch your neck even further, wanting more. 

You're so focused on Felix that you don't notice someone coming closer to you until you feel a presence sit down between your legs. Your eyes slowly open to see Hyunjin scoot closer to you, throwing his legs over yours and Felix's. 

You open your mouth to ask what he's doing, but he just shakes his head at you and curls his hand around the back of your neck, careful not to bother Felix who is still attached to the other side of your neck, nibbling, licking and gently biting your skin.

'Can I kiss you?' Hyunjin asks, his eyes flicking down to your lips. 

'Yeah,' you breathe out, your brain is too hazy to overthink this. 

Hyunjin doesn't waste any time and closes the distance between you, crashing his lips against yours. He's gentle at first, moving his mouth in sync with yours, but when you lick his bottom lip like Chan thought you yesterday, he groans against you and kisses you harder. His fingers move from your neck into your hair and softly pull at the strands, making you gasp. 

To your surprise he doesn't lick into your mouth or tangle your tongues, like Chan had yesterday, he just ups his tempo and scrapes his teeth over your bottom lip. Felix tightens his hands on you when you shiver and his tongue slips out again to soothe the skin he just abused. Is he leaving hickeys?

Hyunjin pulls back and you chase after him, not ready to stop kissing him, not when it feels this good. The sensation of being kissed at two places at once was addicting and you aren't ready to give up on it just yet. You want more. 

Hyunjin chuckles and traces your lips with his thumb. 'Easy there, I just want to ask if you kissed with tongue yet?' 

Such a gentleman. You hastily nod and lean forward again, but Felix his arm around you holds you back. It's only then that you realize what you're doing, in the middle of the studio where all the other guys can see. Hyunjin seems to notice right away and moves his face closer to yours again. 

'Don't overthink it, it's just you, me and Felix,' he whispers before kissing you again. 

Felix switches to the other side of your neck, forcing Hyunjin to let go of your hair, but you don't mind, all you can think of now is kissing Hyunjin. His tongue teases your lips again and when you open them he finally licks into your mouth, touching your tongue with his. He kisses differently than Chan, calmer, but with a lot of passion and in the back of your mind you store this information for later before grabbing onto Hyunjin's shirt and kissing him harder. 

When you break apart again, the both of you are panting like you just ran a marathon. Hyunjin's lips are swollen and he grins when he looks down at your neck, where Felix had let go as well. 

'Quite the artwork Lix, I'm impressed,' he chuckles. 

Your hand flies to your neck, but besides some wet spots and a slight tingling feeling, you don't feel anything. Guess you were going to have to find a mirror later.

**********************************************

a/n: I hope you liked this chapter, I'm still not sure what to think of it haha. Please let me know your thoughts!

Shoutout to @staylovesmiley for being my cheerleader while writing <3 >> part 4

taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @newbbystay @lunearta @danceonmyheyday @gigizzz @kaqua @haven-skies @zulie-and-cats @livixcore @halfwinterhalfuniverse @jesuschrist2006 @staybabblingbaby @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor

[billloveshushu]

Chapter 01 - 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭

✦━ Platonic Batfamily x BabyOC.

━ ✦ Next Chapter

✧Synopsis━ a baby was rescued by Batman on one of his missions, feeling responsible, Bruce decided to adopt her. But the question is that the baby knew she was in the comic book world, not knowing how to react or why, will she survive in this traumatized family?

✦ ("") thoughts (━) dialogue ✦

English is not my original language, the translation was done by Google Translate. So sorry for any spelling mistakes.

In a luxurious mansion, there was a room that was different from the other rooms, which were clean and organized but all lonely and without a hint of life, showing that someone had lived there for a long time, but in this room the floor was padded by a soft carpet. and there were toys and stuffed bears scattered everywhere, the drawers on the walls were full of diapers, powder and baby wipes, and in the corner of the room there was a baby bed.

Inside it was a small baby with a very peculiar appearance, it had black skin the color of chocolate, with vibrant red hair that highlighted its light brown eyes, the baby looked around confused and in disbelief at what was happening.

" How did I end up here? "

Just two days ago she was in the hospital, remembering few things, until a nurse came and took her to an elegant man in a suit who was accompanied by an old man. When she heard the nurse say the man's name, something clicked in her head: " Bruce Wayne!? "

Suddenly, a whole bar of comic books appeared in her mind, comic books that she loved reading, but her favorite stories were about a hero called Batman, with his family that was called the Batfamily. It was then that she realized that she was in the world of comics and that the man talking to the nurse was the fearsome Batman.

She spent the entire trip to Wayne Manor in a daze and hadn't even noticed Bruce's certain ignorance, anyway on the first day she just stared at Alfred and Bruce wondering if it was really real. Only the next day when she was woken up by Alfred did she start to wonder why she was in the mansion, was she adopted? But knowing Bruce he would never adopt a baby with the life he leads as Batman.

So there is only one option left, something tragic happened that she doesn't remember, and maybe that's why she was admitted to the hospital. Well, her theory was right, and she found out thanks to the discussion that was happening on the nursery side. The baby looked at the butler who, despite being quite old, was standing firm and with good posture, arguing with Bruce who had bandages on his face, he was wearing a white shirt that showed that his face wasn't the only injured part.

Alfred was trying to get Bruce to stay and recover from his wounds, but Bruce didn't care about his injuries and said he would go back to the streets tonight and capture those miserable groups. That's when she discovered his story.

Apparently, she was rescued by Batman in one of his most complicated missions, where he was investigating, together with Barbara Gordon (Oracle), the largest human trafficking network in Gotham City. During the mission they even had help from several villains who also didn't like this situation, they found the drug dealers' hideout and planned to end it all that night but it didn't go as planned, the drug dealers had an ace up their sleeve.

They planted bombs in one of their trafficking sites, which was disguised as an orphanage, the problem was that there were children living there, they did this on purpose in case Batman found them, they knew he would drop everything to save them.

In the end they managed to escape and Batman didn't arrive in time, he could only see the big explosion happening in front of him, he managed to save a few children who still had several burns and many were killed by the explosion, the Wayne Industry Corporation financed all the support financial support for the victims including the funerals, and the victims' funeral took place on a cloudy and rainy day, where all of Gotham mourned for the innocent lives.

She could see the anger on his face, perhaps disappointment with himself too, Alfred was the same way, outraged at the poor children's lives that were used but he remained calm knowing that he had to treat his master/son's injuries.

━ Mr. Bruce, I understand your anger but you cannot leave right after your recovery.

━But Alfred! I can't stay here knowing that they will be out there on the loose!

Alfred frowns but stops, knowing he won't be able to convince the bat man any further. Suddenly a noise arose, the two men looked at the baby who was embarrassed and placed her hands on her belly, relieving the tension in the room. Alfred went to make the milk and left the room, Bruce put his hand on his forehead irritably and sat down on a sofa in the room.

She looked at the melancholy man "even though it's the first time I've seen him in person, doesn't he look older?"

His face had bandaged wounds, droopy eyes that screamed for sleep, and an unfinished drool, he was clearly dejected by recent events, showing that carrying the mantle of Batman was not easy.

This is not surprising, for the sake of Batman he sacrificed many things including his physical and mental health, but the thing he hated most was hurting or worrying Alfred, he knew that the butler wanted him to rest for his own good, and yet he acted like a child. While he was mourning, Bruce felt the baby looking at him, but he didn't dare look back, since that day he avoided looking at her face, not even remembering what it was like.

Bruce remembers that bloody night , it was too late to ask for help from the others who were still far from Gotham, He could only watch the explosion happen and rescue as many people as possible until a child stopped him asking for help, saying that there was a room deeper in the orphanage and a baby was trapped there.

Bruce had never felt so much panic and adrenaline rushing through his body, he didn't know how he got past the burning fire until he entered the room that was half hidden and found a fallen nursery and saw the small body of a baby covered in blood .

Even for Batman this vision is too strong, he remembered how he carried the small, almost lifeless body, no, he was sure she was dead until the nurse took her and said there was a sign of life.

He doesn't know if this was an illusion at the time, even the doctors said it was a miracle for a baby just a few months old to survive in this state.

Given his critical condition, the baby took a month to recover, but he had several sequelae that needed to be treated over time. Bruce, seeing this situation, decided to adopt the baby to be responsible for him and finance all his treatments and medical expenses.

The last time he saw the baby up close was when Alfred held the baby in his arms taking her to the mansion, after that, Bruce avoided her and left her in Alfred's care, he never held her, and didn't even look at her face and avoided entering her room until now, it was as if he was...

As if he was afraid .

Alfred arrived with the bottle and picked up the baby gently and adjusted his posture to be more comfortable, and Bruce saw this from afar until the baby finished drinking the milk and the butler cleaned his little mouth, putting him back in the nursery because he realized he was sleepy.

In her last moments struggling with her eyelids nearly closing, she saw Bruce leaving the room silently and wondered " Why didn't he look at me? " before falling into the dream world.

It had been a week since the baby had last seen Bruce, she wondered, should she care?

Since arriving at this mansion, Bruce had avoided her like the plague, she wasn't stupid enough to not realize that, at first she was angry but soon the anger disappeared, she had no reason for it and she didn't even know him well.

She knew Batman from the comics but not Bruce Wayne, she always saw Batman being portrayed as the supreme hero, the vigilante who took justice into his own hands, not as a family man who has many children, the comics didn't go into much depth from the family side. And when it was mentioned it was clear that Bruce failed many times as a father.

She even wondered if it was another child destined to be a Robin, or a child he just pitied, it didn't matter, at least she had Alfred who during that week became much more attached to Baby.

Alfred doesn't know how this little smiling ball won his heart so quickly, he always found himself worried about her, he noticed that he finished his work routine faster or stopped doing some things to just take care of the little one, he had never done that before.

At first, Alfred was worried, it had been so long since he had taken care of such a small baby that he even wondered about hiring a more specialized person.

But surprisingly it wasn't like that, she was a very calm and quiet baby and even smiling, he wondered if that was a problem until he saw her toothless smile in his arms as she hugged a stuffed cat.

To imagine that he was won over by just a crooked smile, perhaps his paternal instinct had returned.

After measuring the ideal temperature of the milk, Alfred saw the little baby in the living room sleeping on the sofa, she was resting her little cheeks which were crushed on the teddy bear bigger than her and several other stuffed animals around.

Alfred secretly took a picture of this cute scene and planned to make a photo album, the baby being woken up gently stretched her little arms towards the butler asking to be picked up, Alfred picked her up and watched her trying to open her little eyes while yawning.

He even rubbed her eyes, making her more awake.

As he looked at the baby who was drinking the milk and trying to grab the bottle with her fat little hands, he thought it would be nice if Bruce had the same thoughts, it wasn't just the baby who noticed the Billionaire's strange behavior, he realized at first glance that Bruce was avoiding her, he asked why and Bruce replied ━ When I look at her, I remember her body full of blood ...

Alfred was relieved that his actions were not malicious, but he was extremely sad when he noticed Bruce's fear, he didn't know if it could be called fear but it was similar to what happened with Jason, the fear of facing his greatest failure.

Even though the baby is fine now, she has suffered several after-effects. Alfred is always heartbroken when he sees the small, newly healed wounds and hopes that they will disappear as she grows, making that traumatic attack just a delusion.

Now he just wants Bruce to get over this and the baby to be okay.

After that, Alfred helped the baby burp and planned to take her to her room since this room was not very suitable for babies, until he felt a tug on his sleeve and saw the baby pointing to a painting in the room ━ Oh little one, these are your older brothers ━ Alfred said as he introduced each one.

Dick or Richard was smiling in the background and next to him was Jason who turned his head back hiding his face, on the other side was Tim and Damian, both of them were not smiling but Damian had a sullen face and arms crossed, in the armchair was sitting Duke who was smiling and Cassandra sitting on the arm of the armchair, she was also not smiling.

The baby looked around and tilted her head in confusion at Alfred who understood the message ━ No little ladyship, they are not here at the moment but they will be in the future.

The baby can only look at the picture again and wonder , " Will they like me? "

Night soon came, Alfred prepared the baby for bed by putting on new pajamas that imitated the figure of a baby sheep, it even had a tail, Alfred often bought new cute animal-themed clothes for the baby and took pictures of each one of them, I think he gained a new hobby.

After putting the talcum powder on the baby's neck, he was about to put her to sleep but suddenly stopped and looked at the bedroom door, the baby soon realized, Batman was back.

Alfred apologized and put her in the nursery, telling her to wait a little and left the room. She looked at the ceiling for a while and could hear some noises of Alfred helping Bruce and realized that the situation must be serious.

She even thought about going there, but she knew she couldn't, her body was still developing its locomotive abilities, and there was still the fact that she was recovering, so she thought it would just be a burden.

When her eyelids were almost closing, Alfred appeared again, but this time he carried her and took her to another room where Bruce could be seen lying on a bed covered in bandages and small wounds, the baby was surprised by the sight as Alfred took her closer.

You could see that Bruce was trying to sleep until he felt Alfred's presence and opened his eyes to see him until he noticed the small ball of fur in the butler's hands ━ huh?

Alfred, noticing the man's doubtful face, said━ Mr. Bruce, I'm afraid I won't be able to take care of the little lady while I prepare dinner, so please.

Alfred placed the little sheep on the bed along with Bruce who just watched the butler leave the room satisfied, leaving the two individuals looking confused at the door, Bruce knew that this was just an excuse from Alfred to get to know the child better but he couldn't help but swear a little.

Then he noticed the little girl crawling to his side and making small sounds, he felt her gaze on his face, Bruce knew that this was cowardly, he thought that after solving the case he would be fine, and would be able to face the child without any guilt, but this proved the opposite, he knows that this is ridiculous but every time he thinks about her he remembers the many times he failed as a father, remembering how negligent he was with his children.

Bruce wanted to move on and leave his mistakes in the past, but he couldn't, he couldn't help but think that because of him most of his children are not in the mansion.

He began to press his hand on his abdomen where the bandaged wound was, which opened with the pressure, starting to release a blood stain. The baby quickly placed her hand on him, trying to push him away, which ended up drawing his attention.

Bruce finally saw the baby and not that nightmare, he saw a small baby who had just recovered, with chubby red cheeks and her small, soft hand contrasting with his, which was large and full of scars, the baby's little face looked at him worriedly.

The baby saw Bruce's shocked look fill with guilt and her hands began to tremble, she didn't understand why this was happening, but she decided to be benevolent, she climbed onto his chest and hugged his neck rubbing her cheek against his as she tried to find a better position to sleep on his shoulder.

Still perplexed, Bruce raised his hands and held her, realizing how fragile she was, for the first time a newborn baby was in his care, a being so defenseless that it couldn't even run away from its predators, that should be protected and cared for, a small child that he still ignored and avoided out of sheer ridiculous fear.

━ I'm sorry... ━ Bruce said with his cold and authoritative voice, the baby looked surprised and saw the melancholic eyes.

She just hugged him tighter, while he held her and patted her head awkwardly.

Bruce from then on promised that he would protect her with all his heart and soul, that he would not make mistakes this time, promising to give her a long and happy life.

After a while Alfred arrived in the room just seeing Bruce sleeping holding the baby also asleep on his chest, he just smiled seeing the scene and was relieved to know that Bruce wouldn't need the medicine to sleep tonight, he discreetly left the room with a plate of food in his hands along with the medicine and closed the door without making any noise.

Continued...

[milesmoralesluvs]

every breath you take (i'll be watching you) - ekko x reader

(ekko pov)

wc: 4k

ekko travels to another timeline. he experiences a glimpse of what could've been. maybe in another life.

warnings: angst

ekko knew he was somewhere he was not supposed to be. he was in zaun, but...he was not. this zaun was something that looked like it came out a fairytale. it was not drowned in the chaos of the undercity. it was not darkened by the gloomy fog that existed ever since he came into this world, haunting him every day. he was not in zaun. of this, he was certain.

because how else would you explain the sight in front of him? in front of his eyes stood six figures from his miserable past. benzo, vander, mylo, claggor, powder and…you. but it wasn't possible. the former four were dead. powder was no longer powder, but jinx and you..

you were his biggest mistake. his biggest regret. his biggest what if? he loathed you and loved you all the same. his enemy and his greatest love.

you looked wrong. god, you looked so right. you were smiling. he could see your pearly white teeth. he could see the crinkle of your eyes. he could hear the melodic tune of your laughter. you were happy and bright, not at all like the girl he knew, the one he fought tooth and nail to kill in his timeline. you were beautiful. you had always been, but there was a special spark in your eyes now. one he wanted to capture a picture of and etch it deep in his heart. one he hoped would never leave you.

he snapped out of his daze once he noticed your eyes on him. your eyes seemed awaiting. you had asked him something. he rubbed his neck a little sheepishly. “what were we talking about again?”

you chewed at the straw of the drink vander had poured you. ekko watched silently, remembering moments of your childhood where you still did that.

"your competition. it’s in two days.”

ekko blinked, trying to hide his confusion. “r-right. the competition.” he cleared his throat, racking his brain for what possible ‘competition’ his other self could've signed up for. he prayed you wouldn't ask for progress updates.

you blew air through the straw, watching it bubble at the drink. ekko solemnly smiled.

“you ready?”

“ready as i’ll ever be,” he said, trying to hide the tension in his voice. he had no idea what the competition was for. he’d have to play along till he finds out. “you coming to watch?” he asked, trying to hide his nervousness as he eyed you.

you plopped your head at the bar table and turned to face him with a cheeky grin. “course. i’d be a shitty girlfriend if i didn’t.”

ekko’s heart skipped a beat. he hadn't expected that—girlfriend. this other version of himself had everything. his friends, his home, you. he swallowed, shoving aside the mixture of feelings swirling in his chest. “you’re not shitty,” he mumbled. ‘you’re perfect.”

you smiled softly as you weakly punched him. ‘i was joking.”

he playfully winced at the hit, but a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “i know, i know.”

ekko reached out to grab your hand, idly running his thumb along the back of it. his eyes darted around, taking in everything about you– your smile, your every gesture, your laugh, your eyes. he hadn’t expected to feel so jealous of his doppelganger. 

you noticed his dazed state and gently gripped his hands. “you alright babe?”

ekko paused for a moment, the weight of the question hanging in the air. he wanted to tell you everything. he wanted to spill out his guts to you. he was in the wrong timeline. this was not his world. he was not your ekko. yet, he couldn't bring himself to say it.

he settled for a forced smile. “yeah. just nervous about the competition, I guess,”

you pulled yourself up and grasped at the straw, delicately placed it in your mouth. his eyes never strayed from you. “no way. you and powder have been working on it for months. you’re gonna crush it,”

there. that feeling again–that pang of jealousy mixed with guilt at the mention of ‘powder’ that spilled so casually from your lips. he had lost that chance to know her in his world. here, she was a shining memory, not the monster he knew.

ekko forced a nod, trying to hide the way his jaw tensed. ‘yeah,” he muttered. ‘i know. i just..i don't want to disappoint you, y’know?”

you smiled at him softly. “you know you could never do that.”

those words hit harder than he expected, a pang of longing in his chest. this other version of himself had everything he’d ever wanted, everything that had been stolen from him. he swallowed, fighting back the tightness in his throat.

“yeah. i know.”

he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, letting the moment linger between them. for a brief moment, he let himself imagine what it would be like to stay in this timeline, to forget about everything else and just… be.

ekko took a deep breath as you turned to continue conversation with mylo, claggor and powder, finally allowing him to truly take in what's around him. old memories flashed through his mind. powder was smiling, blissfully innocent, like the timeline itself was protecting her from becoming jinx. mylo looked less brooding, and claggor stood beside him with a smile. 

it was strange, seeing them like this. they were so young, so carefree—the opposite of how he’d seen them last. 

vander handed out drinks, a fatherly smile on his face. it was odd, seeing him alive and well, like the past hadn’t chewed him up and spat him out. benzo sat next to him, chuckling away at something. ekko doesn't know how he doesn't burst into tears every time from the sight of him.

he was still waiting for somebody to slap him out of his daydream. they were all alive. this world… it was like a sick twist of fate, dangling everything he’d lost right in front of him, then snatching it away. it was a bittersweet reminder of all the friends and family he had lost in his own timeline.

he accepted the drink with a nod of thanks, taking a sip as he half-listened to the conversation around them. ekko couldn’t help but observe how at ease everyone seemed. there was none of the tension or the edge that came from surviving on the streets of zaun. they were safe. they were happy.  

ekko found himself getting lost in your laughter, the sound melodic and full of genuine joy. it made him ache. the more he saw of this life that wasn’t his, the more he wanted it.

claggor nudged ekko to snap him out of his daydream. “oi. quit that loverboy.”

ekko snapped out of his dazed staring, a flush of embarrassment creeping onto his cheeks. he had been caught—staring at you like a lovesick puppy. claggor’s comment made the others chuckle, including you, and ekko couldn't help but admire how devastatingly beautiful you were.

“shut up,” ekko muttered, shoving claggor lightly. “i can look at my girlfriend if i want to.”

you chuckled at claggor and beamed at him and ekko felt his heart skip a beat, the happiness in your smile hitting him like a punch to the gut. he smiled back, though his was tinged with a hint of melancholy.

every moment he spent here, every smile and laugh from you, felt like a taunt. this world wasn’t meant for him. he was an intruder, someone who didn’t belong. yet, he couldn’t help but wish he could stay in this world forever, surrounded by friends and with you in his life.

the night sky appeared, and powder sneakily tweaked the speaker to play some tunes that vander deemed ‘not age appropriate’. as he tried to figure how to ‘turn that darned thing off’, powder, with the knowledge he would not be able to do so, pulled claggor and mylo to the dance floor and moved with the music, laughing and giggling at the horrid moves claggor was exhibiting and the pathetic attempt of flirting mylo was once again torturing the poor waitress with.

he watched them, his mind a swirling mess of emotions. this world… it was everything he had ever wanted, yet so far out of reach.

he took a long swig of his drink, trying to drown out the ache in his chest. if he looked at you any longer, he was going to do something he knew he’d regret—something like stealing you away from this perfect world and bringing you into his messed-up one.

soon after, you stood up and extended your hand towards him, bowing slightly, with a grin on your face, “care to indulge me, my good sir?”

he looked down at your outstretched hand, warring emotions in his eyes. part of him wanted to take it, to let himself get lost in the dance with you. the other part knew it would only make the inevitable hurt worse.

but looking into your eyes, seeing the happiness and the innocence there, he couldn’t resist the pull. 

“yeah,” he chuckled, standing up. “i’d love to.”

powder noticed movement from the corner of her eye and swiftly rushed to the speaker where vander was still fixing it or rather just yelled and hoped it listened. powder ignored vander's protests and changed the song to one of a slow dance and grinned to herself. she held up her fist expectantly, and vander watched your figure dragging ekko to the floor and smiled slightly as he formed a fist of his own and bumped it against hers. he pinched her cheek soon after.

ekko followed you to the dance floor, allowing himself to be led by your hand. as you reached the center, he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against him. he was acutely aware of how right it felt to have you this close, your body pressed against his. 

he moved with the music, though it was clear he was a little clumsy compared to this body’s natural rhythm.

despite it all, ekko found himself grinning, laughing as you both stumbled through the dance together. it was far from elegant, both of you occasionally tripping over each other's feet or losing the beat. 

yet, in that moment, none of it mattered. it was the most fun he'd had in a long time. he was dancing with you, holding you close, and just for that single moment, all his worries seemed to fade away.

once the song ended, ekko suggested leaving the crowded dance floor. the noise and the dancing had become too much for him, and he needed a moment to clear his head.

he led you up to the rooftop, the cool night air a gentle breeze against your faces. the view from up here was breathtaking, the city lights below like a sea of stars against the darkened city.

you smiled as you interlocked your hand with his, recalling a fond memory. “remember ekko? here's where you confessed. here's where i became your girlfriend 5 years ago.”

he chuckled, a fond yet bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “how could I forget?” 

here was where, in this timeline, this version of himself had confessed his feelings for you. he could imagine it—the nervous energy, the hope in his heart, the pounding of his own heart in his ears. but that wasn’t him. those memories, those moments—they belonged to the ekko of this timeline. not him.

he tried to ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest as he looked at you.

“it was sunny. so bright. like the sun had come out just for us.”

he closed his eyes, picturing the scene. sun rays streaming down, a soft, gentle breeze, and a clear sky overhead. a perfect day, a perfect moment. 

je could see it in his mind's eye—the other ekko, confessing his feelings to you here under the sun's warm glow. the jealousy clawed at his heart once more.

"yeah.”

you gently pulled him forward to seat yourselves at the edge of the roof. ekko watched the city lights below, making the buildings look surreal and dream-like. he leaned back, the cool night air a soft caress against his skin. 

his mind was still a tangled mess of thoughts, his feelings for you, and his guilt for being here mixing in a confusing jumble. but sitting here, this close to you, he couldn’t force himself to pull away.

you watched the city life below, dangling your feet, making it hit the wall back and forth. you don't look up as you ask, “you're not my ekko, are you?”

ekko's heart dropped, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. he closed his eyes, his breath catching in his chest. he had tried so hard to keep it a secret, to pretend like everything was fine.

but you had seen through him. you knew.

he didn't say anything for a moment, the silence between you hanging heavy. then, finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, "no. i'm not.”

you don't look up from where you watched your feet dance in the air. the silence hung heavy between you both, each in your own thoughts. ekko's mind whirled, his heart aching at the fact that you had figured him out. he had wanted to keep pretending, to enjoy this one moment for just a bit longer.

he swallowed, his fingers clenching and unclenching where they rested against the rooftop. "how did you know?"

“it was raining the day you confessed to me.”

ekko's heart clenched at the words. it was a small, seemingly insignificant detail, but it was enough to give him away. he hadn't even noticed that, amidst the tangle of feelings and memories he was trying to keep straight. well, memories that weren't even his. he looked down at his hands, his fingers clenching tighter against the edge of the rooftop. he felt exposed, naked in a way that he didn’t like.

"yeah," he finally whispered. "it was.”

you gripped at the floor where your hands were resting and ekko could see the hesitation in your face as you asked the question. 

“who are you then?”

he paused, debating on what to say. he could lie, make up some convoluted story. but looking at you, seeing the curiosity in your eyes, he knew it would be a pointless lie. so, he took a deep breath, and for the first time, he confessed the truth.

"i'm ekko. just not the one you know. i'm from a different timeline. a different zaun.”

your eyes widened as realisation sunk in. “parallel realities. they're…real.”

he nodded, the reality of it still sinking in for him. parallel realities, alternate timelines. he'd known they existed in theory, but to experience it... it was something else.

“yeah," he said quietly. "a little hard to believe, right?”

for the first since you sat down and fixed your eyes down, you lifted your eyes to look at him, a soft smile gracing your face. “not really. i'm looking at it.”

he chuckled at that, a small laugh of disbelief. here you were, accepting the impossible so easily, while he was still struggling to wrap his mind around it.

he looked at you, that soft smile on your face, and his heart ached. everything about this world was so perfect, so right. and here he was, an intruder from another timeline.

“you know me in your world then?,” you asked, fiddling with your fingers.

he nodded, his eyes looking out at the city below again. he imagined his own zaun, so different from this one. the streets were darker, the sky a permanent ashen grey, and you...

he swallowed, forcing down the sudden wave of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

“yeah. i do. you and i… we’re…” he trailed off, unsure how to explain the tangled mess of your relationship in his timeline.

“are we not on good terms?”

he winced at that, the question making his stomach churn with guilt. In his timeline, things were complicated. 'good', was a generous way to describe it.

he took a moment to find the right words, not wanting to hurt you any more than he already had.

“it's... complicated. things between us... they’re messed up in my zaun. we’re on the worst of terms,” he mumbled. “we... we’ve spent years apart. we haven’t seen each other for a long time. and when we do, it’s always a fight.”

“oh,” you whispered, tone inexplicably sad.

his heart twisted, seeing the sadness in your expression. it hurt, knowing that he had caused it, even if indirectly.

he reached out, his hand hovering over yours. he wanted to touch you, to offer comfort, but he stopped himself at the last second. he didn’t deserve to give you comfort.

you noticed his hesitance and gently huffed as you took his hand in yours.  he sucked in a breath as you took his hands, the simple act sending a shockwave through his body.

your hands felt warm, small, and familiar against his. he closed his eyes, taking a moment to just feel you, to remember what it was like to touch you like this. he missed it so damn much.

he held your hands tightly, his fingers wrapping around yours. he didn’t want to let go.

you gripped his hand as you posed the question. “do you…like the me of that world?”

he chuckled at that, the question making his chest ache.

did he like you? like was such an inadequate word to describe what he felt. he loved you. he always had. he’d been in love with you since they were kids. even in his timeline, where things were so messed up. even there, he still loved you desperately.

“i do,” he admitted quietly. “i like you so much, it hurts."

ekko watched you bit your lip and stared down at the city sadly as you asked a question you didn't really want the answer to. 

“do i….like you back?”

the question felt like a punch to the gut. 

he knew the response he should give, the truth behind the relationship between him and you in his timeline. it was a mess. a complicated, painful mess of feelings. of love, hate, and betrayal. of trust broken and hearts shattered. 

he swallowed, his hands clenching tighter around yours. the answer was on the tip of his tongue, and he hated himself for saying it.

“no,” he whispered. “you don’t.”

the sadness in your expression, the way your eyes closed to hide the hurt, it was like a knife to his chest. he wanted nothing more than to take it back, to tell you everything was fine, that you loved him too. but he couldn’t. it was the truth, and lying wouldn’t change that. 

he looked away, his eyes back on the city lights, the brightness suddenly blurring in his vision. damn it, he should have never come here.

“ekko.”

hearing you say his name, in that soft, gentle voice, made something in him crack. he looked back at you, his eyes meeting yours. 

“yeah?” he asked, his voice quiet and strained.

you turned your gaze from the night life to his eyes as you hesitantly asked, “do you…want to kiss me?”

yhe question took him by surprise, jolting through him like an electric shock. he had wanted to kiss you, yes. for years, he’d desired to kiss you, to touch you, to have you closer. he’d dreamt of it, yearned for it, ached for it.

the word was out before he could stop himself.

“yes.”

so you slowly moved forward and gently placed your lips against his. time seemed to slow, the world around you fading into a muffled hum. his lips brushed against yours, featherlight at first, testing, savoring. the contact sent a shiver down your spine, warmth spreading from where you touched and radiating outward.

the kiss deepened naturally, an unhurried exploration of emotions he'd kept bottled for too long. his hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer while your fingers tangled in his locks. it was soft yet searing, a meeting of hearts that spoke in a language words could never capture.

when you finally parted, you rested your forehead against yours, breaths mingling, staring at his eyes, so rich of love and guilt. “you won't be staying, will you?”

the question broke through the fog in his mind, bringing him back to reality. the kiss had been perfect, but it was a lie, a false hope. he knew he couldn’t stay. he wasn’t supposed to be here. 

he swallowed, his eyes glued to the ground, unable to meet your gaze.

“no,” he whispered. “i won’t be staying. my zaun...it needs me.”

you smile sadly as you whispered, “i hope…the me there changes her mind.”

at that, he chuckled bitterly. you, changing your mind? the thought was laughable. he loved you, but even he knew that ship had sailed. 

but seeing the sorrow in your expression, the hope in your eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you. he couldn’t snuff out that hope, that last shred of optimism you still had.

“yeah,” he said, forcing a smile. “i hope she does too.”

you slowly pulled your hand up to caress his face, fingers moving across the soft skin of his flesh. the tenderness of your touch, the way your hand felt against his cheek, it sent a shiver through him. he closed his eyes, letting himself lean into your hand, to relish that feeling for as long as he could. It soothed the ache in his heart, that constant, aching longing for you.

“you deserve happiness ekko.”

he placed his hand over yours, gently holding it to his face. “so do you, you deserve the world,” he mumbled.

you smiled sorrowfully as you watched him. “you might not be the ekko of this world, but you... you still have the same stupid hair. same stupid eyes. same...stupid smile. same stupid heart. you're still my ekko. i hope you can you can get your happy ending there.”

his breath caught at your words. it was too much. it was everything he'd been aching for, everything he wanted to hear.

he opened his eyes, looking at you, his heart clenching. a part of him wanted to tell you everything. to spill the truth of what the two of you had become in his timeline. but he couldn’t. he couldn’t do that to you, not when you were looking at him like that.

he played with your hands, traced hearts on your palm.

“i'll try,” he said softly.

you smiled at him, and he mirrored your smile, his heart aching. he didn’t want this moment to end. he wanted to just stay here, with you, like this.

but the inevitable was closing in. the longer he stayed, the harder it would be to leave. he needed to get back to his timeline before things got worse.

he took a deep breath, steeling his resolve. “i have to go now, don’t i?” he whispered.

ekko watched as tears welled up in your eyes as you chuckled a sad laugh. “i think so.”

seeing the tears in your eyes, hearing the acceptance in your voice, it took all his self-control not to pull you closer, to hold you to him. but he forced himself to stay still, even as every part of him wanted to keep you within arm's reach.

he closed his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh. "yeah," he whispered. "i think so too.”

you suddenly pull him into a hug, wrapping your arms around him, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. he closed his eyes, returning the embrace, hugging you tightly against him. 

he buried his face against your hair, taking a deep breath, trying to commit this moment to memory. he’d never get to hold you like this again.

you place a soft kiss on his cheek. “i won't ever forget you.”

he swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “i won’t forget you either. i couldn’t even if i wanted to.”

every instinct in him was screaming to keep holding you, to not let go, but he forced himself to release his hold. he looked at you one last time, taking in your sad smile, before steeling himself and stepping back.

he took another deep breath, his heart heavy with the weight of all the things left unsaid. “goodbye.”

“goodbye ekko. smile some more, hm?"

ekko felt a mix of emotions well up within him. he wanted to say so much, to tell you not to hope for his happiness, that he wouldn't find it. but the words stuck in his throat.

he managed a strained smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. “yeah. take care of yourself,” he said quietly.

he took one last look at you, the image of you standing there, sad but beautiful, seared into his mind.

with that, he turned and walked away, his footsteps growing fainter as he left you there, alone on the rooftop.

you turned your gaze towards the night life of the undercity and huffed a sad sigh as you turned your gazed up at the moon. 

ekko had decided to stop in his tracks and hide behind a wall so he could watch you one last time. The moon illuminated your features beautifully, and although the smile on your face was one full of melancholy, Ekko could only find it in himself to admire your beauty and mirrored a similar smile of his own.

ekko watched you. he always had. that's all he can do. 

—--- epilogue 

when ekko returned to his timeline, it felt like he'd stepped into a world of shadows, a dark and menacing realm. the familiar alleys, the broken streets, it all looked so different, so wrong.

he trudged his way back to the firelights headquarters, his mind still focused on the you he left behind in the other timeline. the feeling of holding you, having you so close, it was like a fresh wound, reopening the aching loneliness within him.

he stood for a moment, to stare at the moon, to remember the image of you staring at the sky mere moments ago when he caught a flash of something from the corner of his eyes. ekko watched you fall to your death.

ekko watched you. he always had. that's all he can do.

[tidetfs]

"Ugh, bro, pleeeeease?"

Max looked at me with those dopey blue eyes of his, staring dully through me and appearing to lack any kind of intelligence or perception.

"I told you, I have a very important club interview," I replied. "This could determine if I can network into a good job after college!" stressing the importance of a job, something my stoner roommate never seemed to understand.

"Just one hit, man, come on! You gotta stop worrying about that stuff and just chill out!" he replied, stretching his muscular arms over his head of greasy (probably unwashed) brown hair and closing his eyes, as if musing about something important. "You gotta try this weed bro, I just, I-" he stuttered as he took another hit. "I don't fuckin' know man, I think you just need this."

Exasperated, I dropped my heavy bag on the floor and strode over to his side of the room, switching to mouth breathing to avoid inhaling too much foot funk from his "clean pile" of clothes, as Max called it. Even three air fresheners weren't enough to keep the pungent smells of weed and sweat at bay.

"What the hell, dude, when's the last time you even washed those?!"

"Oh, I dunno, a couple weeks ago, maybe?" Max replied, shrugging.

I could see some of the dried crust still clinging to the fabric. I couldn't help but be amazed at the sheer size of his stash. The pile was easily four feet across, and it was clear Max was still working to roll his way through the rest. I couldn't even imagine where he got it all.

"Look, just let me finish my meeting, then I'll smoke with you, okay?"

Max's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, for real?" he replied, excited. "You promise? Pinky swear?"

Max stuck his hand out, his pinky raised and his arm shaking slightly. He looked like an overgrown child. I was so tired, I didn't even hesitate. I wrapped my pinky around his, then turned to walk out of the room. As soon as I let go, I felt a sudden, powerful wave of euphoria wash over me. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I couldn't even think straight, the sensation was so intense.

I collapsed against the doorway, unable to move. I could barely even think. The only thought that went through my mind was that I'd never felt this good in my life. Every inch of my skin tingled and buzzed, like a pleasant static that sent ripples of bliss through my muscles. I couldn't even control the way my body twitched and shivered.

"Duuuude," I heard Max say. "You feel that, man? I told you it's the good stuff."

I didn't know what was happening to me. My heart was racing and I couldn't breathe, and the feeling was getting more and more intense. "What..." I struggled to even sound out words. "I didn't even...take a hit..."

"Well, no, not technically," Max said, laughing. "But, uh, that's not what it was, actually. See, I sorta dosed your pinky."

I looked up at him, confused. My vision was blurry and I could barely see him, but he was grinning widely, and I could see the outline of his meaty, calloused hands rubbing the front of his jeans.

"See, it's like this, man. That wasn't weed. That was just, you know, a little something to get you to loosen up a bit. And, uh, well, there's this other thing, too. That shit I sprayed on your hand. It's not, uh, not exactly what you think."

The euphoria was fading, but it was still intense, and it was making my brain spin. "You sprayed my...hand?" I mumbled, barely able to understand what he was saying.

"Yeah, bro, I sorta had to, man. You kept getting me down with all your stress." He flexed his big biceps and gave one a kiss. "Now you're gonna be just like me!" He grinned wide, his perfect teeth glinting in the low light.

I couldn't respond. The sensations were still washing over me, but the euphoria was fading. As my brain began to work again, I suddenly realized that there was something wrong with me. There was a new, alien weight between my legs.

"Wha-what did you do?" I stammered, still dazed and confused. "What...what did you..."

I looked down, and froze. There was a huge, heavy bulge straining against the crotch of my jeans, stretching the thick material taut. It was huge. Like, absolutely massive. It was easily the size of my fist, maybe even bigger. It was so big and round, I could even see the outline of the individual balls.

"Duuuuude, bro, look at that fucking thing!" Max exclaimed, pointing and laughing. "It's totally fucking huge! Holy shit, man, it's the biggest cock I've ever seen in my life!"

I tried to speak, but I was still so confused, I couldn't get my mouth to form words.

"I didn't know they could get that big, man! Wow, bro, you're really packing a fucking cannon, you know that? Holy shit, it's so fucking hot." Max was practically drooling as he ogled the enormous bulge in my pants.

I could feel the heat radiating off of it, and I could tell it was pulsing and throbbing with each beat of my heart. The sensation was incredibly intense.

"It's...it's not possible..." I stammered, my voice cracking. "What...what did you spray?"

"Bro, I'm telling you, it's totally normal!" Max said, trying his best to sound reassuring. "My friend from home, he said, well, it's just that..." Max stammered again, his usually peaceful face betraying some shyness. "I've always thought you were cute, even without that package. You just needed to loosen up a little. And, I mean, I just wanted you to be, like, comfortable with me. It was just a little bit, man, and it was totally safe. Like, I swear, it's totally normal, dude." He grinned and shot me a wink. "Soon you're going to be just like me."

Max was still staring at the massive bulge, and I could see the outline of his huge dick stretching the crotch of his jeans.

"Dude, bro, I-" my hand shot to my mouth. I had never used those words in the same sentence before! "I...I didn't mean that!"

"Oh, yeah, dude," Max replied, not even noticing. "It's totally normal, bro. You're just a little high is all."

"High?!" I shouted, exasperated. "This isn't...I'm not...this isn't how people talk!"

Max just shrugged. "Bro, you've always been a nerd, and it's cool, man, I totally get it. But this is a big step forward. You're gonna love this. I swear."

I couldn't believe this was happening. I was still trying to process everything that was happening to me, when I heard Max's voice.

"Duuuuuude, check it out, bro," he said, gesturing to the bulge in his jeans. "We're, like, totally packing!"

"I can't..."

"Oh, shit, right. Dude, you gotta feel this."

Max quickly reached down and grabbed the bulge in my pants. As soon as he made contact, I felt a powerful surge of pleasure ripple through me. My body immediately responded to his touch, and I could feel my new cock throb and twitch. I groaned, unable to hold back the sounds.

"Dude, holy shit, bro, it's like, really sensitive or something," Max said, his eyes wide. "Like, really, really fucking sensitive, bro."

"No, it's...not..." I moaned, but I could tell it was a lie. It felt like Max's hand was squeezing my balls, and the pleasure was incredible.

"Fuck, bro, it's, like, really fucking sensitive, dude. Like, fucking, crazy fucking sensitive." Max was practically drooling, and his eyes were glazed over. He was clearly enjoying this a lot.

"Please, stop..."

"Fuck, bro, you're so fucking hard," Max groaned. He started to rub my bulge, and his other hand went to the front of his own jeans. "...and, you're so pretty too. I just don't want to lose you to all those meetings, bro. I want you to be with me."

"Wait, no, what are you doing?"

"I can't hold back anymore, dude, I gotta see your big dick," Max replied, unzipping my jeans and reaching in. He slowly pulled down, and my eyes widened as he revealed the huge, throbbing bulge in my underwear. It was so big, the fabric was stretched tight, and it was already soaked in pre-cum.

"Holy shit, dude, that thing is huge!" Max exclaimed, his voice cracking. He was staring at my huge bulge with a lustful expression, and his long tongue darted out to lick his lips. "It's, like, fucking, massive."

I looked down and was shocked by what I saw. It was easily twice as big as it had been just a few minutes ago. It was still growing, and it was stretching the fabric of my boxer-briefs to the limit. Max began to move closer, scrambling to take off his busted old t-shirt, meaty pecs and perfect washboard abs busting out as he did. He leaned forward, and his massive bicep brushed against my new rock-hard dick.

"Oh, shit, bro, fuck," Max moaned as he leaned in closer. At this point I could almost feel the waves of sweat and weed rolling off his huge body, and my cock was throbbing and leaking, straining against the tight fabric of my underwear.

"You're so hot, dude," Max said, reaching out to grab my huge bulge, wrapping his meaty hand around it. His hand was warm and rough, and his grip was strong, squeezing my bulge and causing a fresh burst of pleasure. "You're, like, fucking sexy as hell, man."

"What the hell, bro, no, that's not...that's not right!" I stammered, but Max's words sent a thrill through me. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I could feel the heat radiating from my skin. "That's not, I'm not a fag!"

"You sure about that, bro?" he asked, giving it a tug and sending a bolt of pleasure through my body. I felt the euphoria return. This time, it was a hundred times more intense.

"Fuuuuck," I groaned, leaning my head back. "Bro, it feels so fucking good."

"I know, right? And it's going to feel even better when you're a stoner like me, dude." Max replied, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Fuck, bro, I can't take it, I gotta get naked," Max moaned, frantically undoing his belt and shucking his pants. "I'm so fucking hard, bro, I can't wait to fuck you."

I looked down, and for the first time, got a good look at my new equipment. It was absolutely massive. It was huge and thick, easily the biggest cock I'd ever seen, and it was still growing. It was 10 inches long, and thicker than a beer can. My balls were huge, too, hanging heavy and swollen between my legs. I'd never felt anything like it.

The sensation continued to wash over me, slowly becoming heat as I began to sweat. It felt amazing. I couldn't control myself, I was already starting to moan and groan, and the euphoria was starting to mix with my arousal. My new cock was so sensitive, and the slightest touch made it throb and pulse.

"It's starting!" Max shouted, looking at my side of the room as my clean and organized things started to transform. My desk became cluttered with bongs and pipes, and posters of the periodic table were suddenly replaced by scantily clad men. My clothes started to change, too. My formerly neat shirts were suddenly full of holes and stained with various substances. My shoes were replaced with flip flops and Crocs.

"I can't take it, man, I'm too horny, I need to kiss you, right now," Max moaned, his voice shaking with desperation. "I've been waiting for this day, dude, and I can't hold back any longer."

Before I could protest, Max leaned in and kissed me, his big, thick tongue probing my mouth. The heat was overwhelming, and his kisses were passionate and hungry. His big, rough hands began to explore my body, rubbing and stroking and caressing every inch of me. He broke away from the kiss and buried his face in my neck, licking and nibbling and kissing. He was so close, I could feel the heat from his body, and I could smell the overpowering funk of stale sweat and reeking weed. It was so powerful I almost didn't notice my feet begin to ache and the pain in my lower back.

"What's...what's happening to me, bro?" I asked, my voice breaking. "I feel...I feel like...fuck, bro, it hurts!"

"You're changing, dude," Max replied, grinning. "It's the weed. You're finally becoming one with the bud."

"Fuck, bro, I can't hold back anymore," Max moaned. He reached down and began to stroke his giant cock, pre-cum pouring from the tip. It was easily 9 inches, and his massive balls were swollen and heavy with greasy, unwashed hair.

My feet continued to ache and burn as they stretched out, becoming bigger and broader. I could feel my bones shifting and rearranging, long tufts of sweaty hair sprouting out of my feet as they morphed into giant, hairy stumps. I couldn't believe it. The changes were getting more and more intense, and it was driving me wild. I felt like I was going to explode.

"I can't take it anymore," Max groaned, his voice a husky growl. " I have to make you mine."

Without hesitation, Max grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, pushing me face-first into my mattress. His hands were rough and strong, and he easily manhandled me.

"Holy fuck, dude, your ass, it's..." Max moaned, his voice filled with lust. "It's so fucking huge."

My ass was getting bigger and rounder, and it was stretching the seat of my boxer-briefs to the limits, and I felt a sharp, sudden pain as the fabric gave way and tore, leaving my huge, jiggly, fat, bubble butt exposed.

"I'm so horny, bro" Max moaned, his voice shaky and breathy, as my ass filled with greasy, oily stink, the air thick with the musk of unwashed flesh and reeking, unwashed funk.

"You're so hot, dude. It's so hot that you're getting stoned."

"What? Bro, that's not...wait!"

"Don't worry, dude, you'll get used to it. It's just the weed talking."

"No, wait, bro, you can't..." I moaned again as my legs began to push me taller, my thighs and calves widening and thickening. My feet swelled even more, filling to a size 13, and a sudden rush of heat swept over my body.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot, man," Max groaned, his voice thick with lust, rubbing my new, tick legs as dark, swirly hair began to sprout, quickly becoming matted with the sweat of hours upon hours of mindless smoking.

"Please, bro, stop," I moaned, as my body began to shake. "I can't take it, I'm gonna...I'm gonna cum."

"Dude, that's the whole point, bro," Max replied, his voice trembling. "Just relax, and let it happen. It's gonna feel so fucking good."

"It's too much," I moaned, my cock throbbing and pulsing. "It's too intense."

"I know, dude, it's just the weed, bro. It'll feel better after you get used to it. Trust me."

I could feel the hair begin to creep onto my stomach and chest, quickly spreading and covering me in a layer of greasy, foul-smelling, sweaty body hair.

"Dude, are you seriously not feeling this, too?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Bro, I can't take it, please, just stop, it's too much."

"Dude, chill, you're fine," Max replied, flipping me back over and rubbing his hand over my new abs and thickening pecs. "Just enjoy the ride."

"Wait, no, I'm not...fuuuuck!"

The sensation was so intense, it was driving me wild. I could barely even think. My pecs were growing larger and heavier, and my nipples were swelling and darkening, the areolae growing thicker and hairier.

"Fuuuuuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max groaned, grabbing a fistful of hair and giving it a sharp tug, making me moan with pleasure.

My cock was throbbing and leaking pre-cum, and I could feel the heat coming from it. My balls were swollen and heavy, and they were aching for release.

"Fuck, dude, I can't take it," Max moaned, his voice filled with desperation, shoving his face into my pit as they began to grow and deepen, quickly filling with rank, musky body odor. As he licked, my arms grew longer and wider, my biceps and triceps growing thicker and bulkier. My forearms became thicker and more defined, and my hands and fingers were getting bigger and beefier.

"Bro, it's so fucking good." Max's voice was muffled by my armpit, and I could feel his tongue lapping up the stale sweat and musk.

My arms were now completely covered in thick, greasy, matted hair, and the same was happening to my back, the swirly pattern spreading like a wildfire. My shoulders were growing larger and rounder, and I could feel the muscles shifting and rearranging.

"Please, dude, don't...I can't..."

"I can't stop, bro, you're so hot," Max moaned, his face buried in my pit. I could smell our odors mixing together as our muscular bodies writhed against each other, slick with sweat and the stinking smell of weed.

I was so turned on.

"You're so hot, bro," Max moaned, his pre-cum leaking all over the place.

"No, bro, what?" I moaned, my voice trembling. "I'm not a faggot."

"That's just the weed, dude," Max replied, his voice low and husky. "You're gonna love it."

"Please, no," I moaned, but I knew he was right. I was so turned on, and the weed was driving me wild as my neck and jaw began to fill out and widen, my Adam's apple growing into a large, meaty knob.

I moaned as my voice deepened, the vibrations reverberating through me, causing me to shiver, my speech becoming permanently relaxed, just like my roommate's.

"Fuck," Max groaned, going in for a slobbery, wet kiss, our body heat generating enough stink to make me gag.

My body was now covered in matted, swirly body hair, and it was growing thicker and greasier, the same thing happening to my chest. I could feel my pecs bulging even more as my face was being smothered in kisses and licks, my nose cracking into a previously-broken shape and the skin becoming rough and scarred.

"Oh, fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot," Max moaned, burying his face in my thick neck, his voice muffled by the hair.

"No, please, bro," I moaned, my voice cracking. "I can't take it, it's too much."

"You can do it, bro, just hold on a little longer," Max replied, his voice shaky.

My tongue grew thicker and longer, and it started to loll out of my mouth, my face cracking into model-level handsomeness. I was so turned on, and I couldn't take it anymore. My balls were throbbing and pulsing, and my cock was throbbing and pulsing.

"I'm gonna cum," I moaned, my voice deep and slow.

"Do it, bro," Max moaned, his voice trembling. "Do it, cum all over me, bro."

I felt his fingers run across my short hair, sending a shiver down my spine. My body was wracked with pleasure as I felt ropes of rancid, stinking cum shoot from my cock, splattering his chest and stomach. I couldn't control myself, I was moaning and groaning, the intense orgasm rocking my body, my new, masculine frame shaking and quivering.

With each rope, my bright green eyes became dimmer and dimmer, coloring grayer and grayer as all of my worries and stress flowed out of me, and I fell into a state of bliss, my cock still twitching and throbbing as the last change began. My hair grew longer and thicker, until it was a long, shaggy, dirty mess, and a fresh wave of fresh musk rose off me.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I moaned, my voice deep and slow, my tongue lolling out of my mouth.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max moaned, his voice cracking. "I can't believe it, dude. You're, like, totally a stoner now, bro."

"Haha, yeah man...wait bro, haven't I always been?" I looked at myself in the dingy dorm mirror, and realized I looked like a dumb, stoned idiot. My voice was deeper, and my accent was different. My hair was messy and unwashed, and my skin was tanned. My pecs were massive and my abs were rock hard. My cock was huge and throbbing. My feet were hairy and stinky. I had a huge, round, bubble butt.

I laughed a deep, airy chuckle.

"That's right" Max said, staring into my dull eyes. He seemed like the hottest man I had ever laid eyes on until I realized.

"I love you, dude." Max giggled.

"Yeah man, I love you, too" I slurred, leaning in for a sloppy kiss, my tongue probing his mouth, the taste of weed and sweat overwhelming. He returned the favor, and soon, we were a mess of sloppy, stoner kisses, our thick, stubbly chins rubbing together, the sound of slurping and licking filling the room.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I groaned, the kiss ending, both of us breathing heavy and panting, a mixture of spit dripping from our chins. "That was, like, totally amazing, dude."

"Fuck, yeah, bro, it was fucking awesome," Max groaned, his voice trembling. "I've been waiting for this for, like, ever, bro. It's fucking crazy."

"Yeah, dude, totally," I replied, staring at his gorgeous, masculine features. His big, thick arms, his perfect washboard abs, his massive pecs, and his perfect, handsome face. He was fucking hot, and he was all mine.