#x-men annual 7

[fuzzierelf]

alright so we know who's pitching and who's catching

[nottsangel]

blood moon — t.n. & m.r. part 1

pairing: dark!theodore nott x fem!reader x dark!mattheo riddle. (mattheo makes his appearance in pt2)

warnings: smut 18+, dubcon, breaking and entering, violence, blood, knives (cutting into skin), rough oral sex (m. receiving), mask kink, mentions of murder, swearing

word count: 4k

summary: purge night— a night you’ve feared all year despite coming from a rich and powerful family. but when six masked men show up at your door, are you really as safe as you thought?

the purge au… moodboard. nav. more.

“This is not a test, this is your Emergency Broadcast System. Announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the Government. Weapons of class four and lower have been authorised for use during the purge; all other weapons are restricted. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime (including murder) will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and Emergency Medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7:00 a.m, when the purge concludes. Blessed be our new founding fathers—”

“Blah, blah, blah… we get it. Same shit every year.” Pansy sighed dramatically through the phone, her tone dripping with annoyance. You could tell she was rolling her eyes, and you didn’t need to see her to know she was slouched lazily somewhere. 

Not much later, the ominous, bone-chilling sirens blared violently through the entire city, blasting through the walls and echoing in the still-empty streets. The all so familiar sound never failed to give you goosebumps all over your stiffened body, instantly raising your heartbeat. You briefly closed your eyes, trying to steady your racing heart as you struggled to control your shaky breathing. 

“Hellooo? Are you still there or have you been murdered already?” Pansy joked with a taunting laugh. Your eyes snapped open, her static-filled voice dragging you back to reality, and her humorous tone nearly making you forget the reality of this cruel night. 

Because it wasn’t just any regular night— it was Purge Night. The one night you’d been dreading all year, every year, in which all crime becomes legal for twelve long hours. Logically, you were well aware that you had nothing to fear. Your parents were successful entrepreneurs with plenty of money to afford the most advanced security equipment, keeping you safe from any outside danger.

Yes, to protect you, and only you. Not them— they were out at a purge party, the details of which you didn’t even want to know, shamelessly networking with other high-profile elites while the poor were brutally murdered in the streets surrounding them. Everything about this night gave you a sickening feeling in your stomach. But of course, you knew it would be fine. All you had to do was survive— survive in your mansion, surrounded by unbreachable security. Nothing was going to happen. 

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.” you responded, your voice tinged with irritation as you hurried from your bedroom down the wooden stairs to the security room, figuring that if you could check the cameras around the house, it might calm you down a bit. You couldn’t shake the feeling of needing to tiptoe carefully down each step, as though someone might hear you— which was ridiculous, considering how large and heavily secured the house was. 

The eerily quiet house was broken by the first distant, chilling screams of pure terror from outside, making you grimace as you opened the creaky door to the small room, your eyes instantly squinting at the many bright screens that made your eyes burn. 

“It’s just… I hope this night will be over soon, that’s all.” you continued, one hand holding the phone close to your ear while your eyes fleetingly scanned over the security cameras, which were strategically placed to cover every corner outside the house. 

“Oh please, don’t be such a scaredy-cat! Every year it goes just fine, so this year will be no different. When has anything…” Pansy chattered in her usual attempt to comfort you, completely unaware that her words were only doing the opposite, when her voice slowly faded away into the background and your eyes narrowed at one of the top-right screens, which was focused on your front door. What the fuck?

With your heart nearly pounding out of your chest and your hand shakily gripping the phone, you inched closer to the screen, moving as slowly as possible, almost as if the slowness would somehow alter the nightmare playing out before you. A sudden coldness washed over you, your eyes rapidly blinking. No, no, no… this can’t be happening. 

On the pixelated, dark screen, you saw six masked men standing in front of your door, their heads tilted as they stared right at the cameras. You felt lightheaded, your left hand reaching up to lightly clasp your throat, the panic threatening to overwhelm you once you noticed the various weapons they were holding— baseball bats, knives, axes, and god knows what else.

“P—pansy… I, uh… there are people standing in front of my door…” you stammered shakily, still staring at the screen, your body frozen in place with your hand gripping the phone so tightly that your knuckles turned white and your breathing became ragged and uneven. 

“Oh, they’re probably just trying to scare you, babe. I mean, come on, they can’t even come in for fuck’s sake!” she let out a mocking laugh as the chaotic thoughts in your head raced a hundred miles an hour, leaving you paralysed with uncertainty. 

“Pansy, what the fu— you know what? Forget it.” you snapped, your trembling fingers tapping frantically at the screen before finally ending the call, frustrated at not being taken seriously by your best friend— though, to be fair, when had she ever? 

You hastily slipped your phone into your back pocket, already dreading the snarky text she was sure to send you for ending the call, before shifting your attention back to the screen. One of the men removed his mask, prompting you to move even closer with narrowed eyes, your forehead nearly touching the cold glass. 

“Good evening.” he called out in a stoic, chilling voice, his shiny black hair neatly styled, and his stance tall, commanding and unmistakably intimidating. 

“Sorry to bother you at this ungodly hour, but let me kindly introduce myself. My name is Tom, and these guys— they are my friends.” The scene you were intently staring at filled you with pure terror— this unknown man named Tom, surrounded by men in masks, each carrying weapons that could easily kill you, weapons that were already completely soaked in blood, the dark droplets dripping ominously onto your front porch. 

“This can go one of two ways; you simply let us in, and we will steal— sorry, I mean take whatever we desire, and then, we leave! Or…  we can do this the hard way. But I can assure you, you will not survive the latter.” His tone was almost amused as he finished speaking, and through the grainy pixels, you could see a controlled, sinister smile spreading across his pale face. 

“Do not think you are invincible. We can enter any home we want. And we will want, as wanting is our will on this fine purge night. Do not force us to hurt you.”

His menacing words sent tingles across your skin, all the muscles in your body tightening. And for a good ten minutes, they did nothing but stand there, staring straight into the camera, waiting—expecting—for you to open the door for them. 

It was a chilling sight. Almost as if you were staring at a photograph, the men stood completely still, their blood-covered hands tightly gripping their equally blood-soaked weapons, knowing your blood would be next to splatter across them, mixing with that of other poor, helpless victims. 

When they realised you weren’t going to open the door, Tom gave his men a quick signal, waving his finger in the air, which caused you to cock your head in both curiosity and unease.

“Alright then.” He said, the sinister smile on his face growing wider. But it was fine. You knew they couldn’t come inside anyway. Your house was so securely protected, there was no way they could come in and— Is that a fucking blowtorch? 

“Yes, we are prepared. And you— oh, you chose the wrong option.” Tom coldly stated as if he could read your mind, dragging the words in a chilling tone. Two of his men quickly got to work, the blowtorch slowly cutting through the thick metal doors, meanwhile, Tom continued to stare directly at the camera, his evil, dark smile never faltering, his soulless eyes not blinking once.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” This was when real panic set in, your eyes flickering with pure terror as you slowly backed away from the screens, gripping whatever furniture was nearby to steady yourself. You hurried out of the room, realising this was the time to hide.

Quickly but silently running up the stairs again, you heard the agonising sound of the blowtorch cutting through the metal, sending shivers all over your body and urging you to move faster. 

You burst into your room, breathless, slamming the door behind you and you panickedly scanned the small space, frantically searching for the best hiding spot. There weren’t many options, but the closet seemed like your only chance, so without hesitation, you flung the door open, stepped inside, and crouched down, wrapping your trembling arms tightly around your knees. 

“It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine.” You kept repeating to yourself in a quiet, trembling voice, desperately trying to gaslight yourself into believing it. But who the fuck are you kidding? They were inevitably coming in, and then… well, you didn’t even want to think about it.

You gasped loudly at the sudden sound of a loud bang, followed by distant voices and approaching footsteps downstairs. Nibbling on your bottom lip and one hand clutching your throat, you struggled to calm your ragged breathing, but hoping to make out the conversation happening downstairs— although you weren’t even sure if you wanted to hear it in the first place. 

“We are coming, aha! And we will find you, you little fucking bitch” an unfamiliar voice taunted from down the stairs followed by a menacing laugh, clearly relishing the undeniable fear they were instilling in you as the footsteps and faint chatter grew louder with every passing second.

“Mattheo, control yourself. Search for the girl downstairs, and Theo, you check upstairs. The rest of us will take whatever is valuable and leave for the next house.” You heared Tom instruct two of his men, his voice stern and cold, before adding, “Oh, and whatever you do, make it as painful as possible. I want her to suffer.” 

Goosebumps covered your entire body hearing the chilling words, and you could tell that these guys didn’t fuck around. Everything about them was incredibly organised and prepared. This wasn’t their first time purging. No, they knew exactly what they were doing.

Heavy, resolute footsteps then made their way up the stairs, each deep step resonating through the house, making the silence feel like it was closing it. Theo. There was no way out of this. The only thing you could do was pray that he wouldn’t find you. But deep down, you knew he would. 

“You can’t hide from me, piccola.” a deep, husky voice teased, his voice slightly muffled by the mask he wore. It surprised you to hear a foreign accent— Italian, you guessed. And fuck, you could punch yourself in the face right now for finding it… hot. 

The steps grew louder, tantalisingly slow, until his footsteps reached your room. Your hand flew to your mouth to keep yourself quiet, your brows furrowed as you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on steadying your breath. Your heart beat out of your chest, and you worried it was beating loud enough for him to hear. 

Then it was quiet. No sounds. You swallowed, your mouth feeling dry with tears brimming at your waterline, and you gasped when you suddenly heard his voice so close to you. Thank fucking god you still had your mouth covered. 

“You’re here, aren’t you?” He said in a dark, knowing manner, and the only thing you could do at this very moment was repeat ‘please don’t find me’ in your head while only hoping your death would be less painful than Tom had ordered it to be. “I know you are...” 

The closet door then abruptly swung open, causing you to let out a loud, surprised gasp. The tears you had so desperately tried to suppress now uncontrollably streamed down your cheeks as your head shot up. Soft ‘no’s slipped from your lips when he grabbed you by the arm and aggressively pulled you out of the closet, the words barely audible and you panickedly shook your head, feeling lightheaded due to pure fear. 

“Shut up, cazzo.” he muttered irritably as he threw you on your bed with exasperated aggression. And you immediately complied— not only because he asked you to, but because you didn’t want Matthew to hear you, knowing that Theo had found you, worried of what he might do to you. Matthew… Was his name even Matthew? 

He stood still before you, and for the first time, you took him in, scanning him from head to toe as his imposing, tall frame loomed over you, casting a shadow over where you sat on the bed.

A white mask fully covered his face, and in his right hand, he held a bloody, sharp knife, causing you to gulp in fear. Oh, he looked fucking terrifying— but there was something else, something other than fear deep inside of you. A feeling you desperately tried to suppress. A feeling you felt ashamed to feel. A feeling you could not bring yourself to admit. 

“Huh.” he commented, his head tilting slightly to the left. “Tom didn’t tell me you were such a pretty little thing.” he reached his hand out, his thumb brushing over your cheek, causing you to instinctively pull away, stiffening under his touch. 

“Così carina.” he chuckled mockingly, and your eyes were drawn to his hand that was expertly spinning the knife. His other hand then abruptly gripped your hair, making you gasp, and he slightly tilted your head to expose your neck. 

From your peripheral vision, you could see the bloody knife drawing closer to your neck, making you instantly shut your eyes with furrowed brows, knowing this was it. 

“Can’t wait to see these white sheets turn red.” Theo taunted, but you were shaking, crying and nervously biting down on your lip so hard that blood welled up, waiting for the moment you finally felt the sharp knife against your delicate skin.

And then you did. You felt the cold blade lightly dig into the skin of your neck, the sharp, stinging sensation causing you to tightly grip the sheets, followed by fresh, crimson droplets of blood slowly trickling down your skin— but then he stopped.

“Hm. You know what, bella?” Theo paused for a moment, crouching down to get on eye level with you. The closer he got to you, the faster your heart raced, your whole body heating up with a mix of fear and something else. The deep sense of guilt you felt for feeling… this way gnawed at you from the inside. 

“I might just have other plans for you.” Your head snapped toward him, and you hissed at the fresh cut stretching open, your hand instinctively reaching to the wound, carefully dabbing your fingers on the blood still trickling out.

“You wanna live?” He questioned, and you reluctantly nodded, still unable to shake off the feeling of unease, even as a slight sense of relief—or maybe hope— began to grow inside of you. 

“Then I advise you to get on your knees before I change my mind.” You blinked rapidly, unsure if you heard him correctly. Surely not. 

“I— what?” You stammered, breathing in so fast you nearly choked on air as your heart pounded out of your chest. 

“Oh, you heard me.” He rose to his feet, and your eyes intently followed his every movement. The way the moonlight seeped through the blinds illuminated him, and for the first time, you could clearly see his ocean-blue eyes gazing down at you with intense focus— the only feature of his face that was visible through the mask. 

He reached the knife out again, causing you to flinch, but this time he pressed it under your chin to lift your head, the pointy end digging into your soft skin.

“You don’t think I noticed?” he began, and you sat frozen, knowing that a single movement would press the knife deep into your skin. 

“You don’t think I noticed the way you looked at me with those pretty eyes?” You raised an eyebrow in puzzlement, unsure of what he was hinting at, and you absolutely hated this— the vagueness of his words. You hated having to guess what he meant. It made you anxious. 

“I have purged a lot of people, bella. And there is one thing aaall of them have in common— they all have this same, fearful look in their eyes.” he continued, and it made you wonder what he saw in yours. 

“But you… cazzo. With you, I see something else sparkling in those pupils.” The way the mask muffled his voice made you unconsciously lean in closer to hear him better, and he did the same, but for an entirely different reason, until you were merely inches apart. It was a strange observation to make in such a moment like this, but oddly enough, he smelt nice, very nice. A pleasant, musky cologne with the undertone of cigarettes filled your senses. 

“With you I see… lust, yearning, desperation.” he whispered into your ear, the knife digging deeper into your skin, yet still not deep enough to draw blood. Your eyes shot wide open before locking with his, and you felt caught. He hit the hammer right on the nail. 

“Go on, tell me I’m fuckin’ wrong.” but you couldn’t. You couldn’t tell him he was wrong. Because he wasn’t. Your eyes darted nervously around the room, unable to meet those intense, piercing eyes as the ache between your legs only grew stronger. 

“Yeah… that’s what I thought. Bet your panties are soaked already, aren’t they?” you heard a muffled, condescending chuckle coming from under his mask as he slowly twisted the knife under your chin. You so desperately wanted to bite back, to defend yourself, to tell him that he was being ridiculous— but the words were stuck in your throat.

“So… back to where we were.” he growled as he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down, suddenly remembering Matthew wandering around downstairs and being able to walk in at any time, causing him to rush. 

“C’mon sweetheart. I need to feel those pretty lips wrapped around me if you want to live, a’ight? If Mattheo finds us, it’s over for you.” Ohhhh, Mattheo… right, right.

You hesitantly walked over to him before getting on your knees right in front of him— right in front of his already hard erection trapped in his boxers, desperately wanting to escape as the tip formed a wet patch of precum on the fabric. 

“Well… you know I could just kick you in the balls right now and run away?” There it finally was— the words that had been stuck in your throat, and the boldness inside of you that had finally come free. It was that unexpectedly tender demeanour of his emerging in brief moments, causing you to see him in a humane light, which stilled your fears. 

He scoffed before aggressively gripping your hair and pulling your head back, causing you to hiss at the fresh wound on your neck stinging at the movement. He drew closer to you before suddenly holding the knife to your throat again, the softness you’d glimpsed earlier vanishing in an instant.

“Oh yeah? You don’t think I’m gonna find you and cut you open? Go for it. Give it a try. Let’s see how that ends.” he warned in a low, menacing tone, your brows furrowing as you clenched your teeth, staring right into his narrowed eyes. 

“Acting as if you aren’t practically begging to suck me off right now, tsk. Hurry the fuck up.” he ordered in a harsh tone, abruptly letting go of your hair and retracting the knife from your throat.

Realising you had no other choice but to follow his orders, you stared up at his masked face, before your gaze fell on his boxers. You could tell he was big just from the imprint through the thin fabric— oh, there was no doubt in that. Reluctantly, you drew your head closer to his crotch, teasingly using your teeth to pull the waistband of his boxers down before slowly sliding them off. 

“See, I knew you were a fucking slut.” he growled, his amusement evident as his erection sprang free against his toned abs, precum glistening at the tip. Oh, well fuck. He was indeed huge, causing your eyes to widen momentarily as you swallowed hard. You glanced back up at him one more time, and he gave you a sharp nod, his hand on the back of your head pressing insistently, urging you closer. 

Your head slowly inched closer to his intimidatingly large cock, and you started with placing soft kitten licks on the tip, tasting the salty precum, when suddenly a mischievous smile began to curve your glossed lips. In one swift, unexpected motion, you wrapped your mouth around his throbbing length, firmly pressing your teeth into the skin while at the same time your hand darted to his balls, your sharp nails digging deep into the sensitive flesh. 

“That fuckin’ hurts, you bitch. Cazzo!” Theo cursed, aggressively pushing you back until you hit the bed, yet the same mischievous smile on your face only widened. It confused him how the terrified, weak girl he saw earlier had transformed into… this. 

“Didn’t expect you to be such a fucking pussy.” you challenged him, fire burning in your eyes. Not because you wanted to die, but because deep down you knew you weren’t going to. If he wanted to kill you, he would’ve done that already. With the precum leaking from his painfully hard erection right in front of you, you knew the only thing on his mind was finding his release. He was a man after all— simple, driven by his desires.

“You better shut that little mouth—” 

“Or what? You're gonna threaten me again with that stupid little knife—” before you could even finish your sentence, he grabbed you by the hair, yanking you roughly towards him, his cock forcing its way into your mouth. The tip hit the back of your throat instantly, triggering your gag reflex as you struggled to breathe around his thick, aching erection. He quickly set a brutal rhythm, bucking his hips aggressively into your mouth, and you felt your eyes well with tears, saliva running down your chin. 

“If you stop, I’ll make you fucking regret it.” His hand gripped your hair in a tight ponytail, pulling you to meet his thrusts as he relentlessly fucked your mouth. Gagging sounds filled the room as he forced your head down as far as possible, groaning at the sight beneath him— a sight that could so easily make him come already.

“You wanted this from the start, huh? Such a pathetic—” Theo’s sentence was then abruptly cut off when the door suddenly swung open and slammed against the wall, causing you both to freeze and stare, wide-eyed and horrified. A chill ran down your spine as you noticed another masked man standing in the doorway, holding a blood-soaked baseball bat while casually leaning against the doorframe. Oh no.  

“Well, well, well… look what we have here. You really thought I wouldn’t find out, Theodore? How cute.” 

Mattheo. 

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

a/n: thank you sm for reading ^_^!!!!!!! this was supposed to be one long fic but i decided to cut in into two (or maybe more if needed) parts! im not sure when the next part will be posted but ill try to work on it soon !!! <3

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[dazzlersbackupdancer]

Nightcrawler's Hawaiian Shirt from X-Men Annual #7

[mrsriddlenott]

12 Days Of SmutMas

18+ Only!! My first Fic Event!!!!!

I am literally so excited to do this bc I wanted to do an October/Halloween event but didn’t have the time so I hope you guys are excited with meee!!!!

These fics will start coming out on the 5th and 6th, (I’m giving the first 4 days to see what requests I get), then every other day until Christmas Eve with the last one coming out on Christmas Day👏👏

[Requests Closed]

1. First Christmas ~ James Potter 12/5/23

Summary: You and James have your first Christmas in your new flat together. You two have fun buying new decorations and deciding where they’ll go while getting distracted in every room you put them in.

2. Christmas Movie Marathon ~ JJ Maybank 12/6/23

Summary: You, JJ, and the Pogues spend Christmas together in the chateau watching all your favorite holiday movies, until your mischievous boyfriend gets bored and wants to distract you as well.

3. Family Christmas ~ [closed] Theodore Nott & Mattheo Riddle 12/8/23

Summary: Theo brings you and Mattheo to his family’s Christmas dinner for the first time making you a nervous wreck, desperate to make a good impression. The boys notices your anxiety and decide to help you with your nerves in Theo’s bathroom before you eat with his family.

4. Santa Clause Is Coming To Town ~ Klaus Mikaelson 12/10/23

Summary: When Klaus mysteriously returns from New Orleans, the Mystic Falls gang worries about what he’s planning, though his only plan is to convince you to join him for Christmas in The Big Easy, by any means necessary. Starting with lavish gifts, attention, and affections, and ending with his mouth wherever you wish it.

5. Decorate With Me ~ [closed] Mattheo Riddle 12/12/23

Summary: Alpha!Mattheo is too lazy to decorate the house for the holiday’s, thinking it useless, you however entice him to decorate one thing at a time as you strip for him, teasing him and escaping his grasp until all that’s left to do is place the ornaments on the tree, leaving him to decorate you.

6. Secret Santa ~ bsf!Sirius Black 12/14/23

Summary: Sirius gets your name for Secret Santa and decides to prank you by having you open a dildo in front of all your friends. However, he’s shocked and flustered when you jokingly say you’re grateful and you’ll need it since your sex life is stale. In private, Sirius tells you he’d like to change that.

7. Stocking Stuffers ~ [closed] Mattheo Riddle & Theodore Nott 12/16/23

Summary: Insanely horny Mattheo and Theo help you decorate for Christmas in your cute holiday themed outfit and hear you refer to putting gifts in their stocking as needing to stuff their stockings, and can’t help but get distracted by the idea of stuffing your stickings with a gift too.

8. Scrooge ~ Rafe Cameron 12/18/23

Summary: Rafe never had much Christmas spirit, luckily his girlfriend absolutely had enough for both of them. Conflicts ensue as you attempt to get him festive, and when he wakes up in a sour mood on Christmas of all days, you’re not having it, giving him a Christmas gift from under the sheets that makes him the most jolly mother fucker in Tanneyhill.

9. You Ruined The Surprise ~ [closed] Anakin Skywalker 12/20/23

Summary: Emperor!Anakin walks in on you wrapping his gifts on Christmas Eve, making you fear the holiday to be ruined, but he reminds you he still gets to wait and unwrap his favorite gift under the tree, you. Leading to a long night of teasing until he can finally unwrap his gift in the morning.

10. Office Party ~ boss!Bucky Barnes x Reader 12/22/23

Summary: Your job’s annual Christmas party is approaching and for the first time since your recent divorce, you will be without a date. Unbeknownst to you your boss and mentor will be facing the same issue, leading to an unforeseen Christmas gift with many consequences.

11. Gingerbread Men ~ [closed] Lorenzo Berkshire 12/24/23

Summary: Dark!Enzo happily helps you decorate your Christmas cookies, laughing as you decorate gingerbread men to look like each other to eat. Enzo jokes that your homemade cookie tastes amazing but no where near as good as the real you, leading to kitchen shenanigans.

12. Christmas In Bed ~ 🎄🎁 12/25/23

Your Last Gift Will Be Opened On Christmas Day☺️😁

Please send Character Requests from any universe 👇below👇 for any of the prompts that are free. I am better at writing m&f smut but I am entirely welcome to any other pairing if I think I’m capable of writing it, poly couples are welcome!!

- HP Universe (any era, fanon&canon characters)

- TVD Universe (any of the 3 series’ characters)

- TWD Universe (main&FTWD characters pref.)

- Outer Banks

- The Umbrella Academy

- Star Wars (main&prequel trilogy pref.)

- Teen Wolf

- Stranger Things (will not write for the main kids)

- Supernatural

- MCU

Requests for this event are open until all free prompts are filled. Please include what relationship the character will have with the reader and the number of the prompt you want them to fill!!

- My Relationship/Smut Request Guidelines -

✅Best Friend x Reader

✅Bsf’s Sibling & Sibling’s Bsf x Reader

✅Friends W/ Benefits

✅New Step Sibling x Reader

✅Teacher/Professor x 18+ Reader

✅Alpha x Omega

✅Dominant x Submissive (hard&soft smut, I’m not good at writing Dom reader but I will try)

✅Power Imbalance (examples: boss,leader,blackmail,corruption kink, etc.)

✅Dark!Character x Reader (examples: obsessed,possessive,criminal, etc.)

❌Real Ince$t

❌Be$tiality

❌Minor x Adult

❌Non/Dub Consent

❌Cheating on or with Reader

~~~~

Taglist (lmk if u want on or off, my main taglist rn is just my HP taglist tbh)

@timmytime17 @talia-scar123 @spencer-reids-wife @ttsbaby01 @animorose @whydoireadanymore @thievin-stealing @spiderman-stilinski @evycloudberry @shady-the-simp @ashisabitgay @porterport @callsignwidow @cicicicicisstuff @mattheoriddleswifee @junebugin-july @moonlightreader649 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @rubyliquor @perverteddsdreams @mildly-delulu @fairydimples07 @shadowmoonlight0604 @80scinemvasworld @nevillescomslut @annaisabookworm @abaker74 @athenalikethegoddess @limeren @h-------n @kezibear @mattheoriddlemarcuslopez @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @curiousshifter101 @tobyr68 @spididerman @hedwigprewett12 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @kiwi475

[sciderman]

SCI ILL GIVE YOU TWO NICKELS IF YOU TELL ME WHERE THE GOOD SPIDEYPOOL INTERACTIONS ARE IN THE COMICS. I want to read them but i have no idea where to begin!!

GOD! you know they're so rare. they're so rare.

my personal favourite always always is avenging spider-man #12 + #13. the only spideypool comic ever. it's probably the benchmark for how i write their dynamic.

other than that, the spideypool annual is a classic. but peter's like, unconscious through most of it. technically he's unconscious through most of avenging spider-man #12 too. i don't know why peter's usually unconscious in the spideypool books.

deadpool annual #2! the notorious spideypool annual.

wade you are so cute. sooooooooo cute.

this is one of the cutest wades ever. huge contributing factor to wade's general adorable fanboy persona you see so frequently in fanon.

they're so cute. so cute.

this is like the ultimate little fanservice book. if you didn't ship spideypool before, you'll read this book and it'll be all you think about. it's so simple, wholesome, adorable. and wade's just, so good.

god i miss stand-alone issues with simple plotlines that just have silly fun with their concept.

one underrated spideypool interaction i really like but a lot of people haven't read! identity wars (2011) - it's kind of an insane book. spider-man, deadpool and the hulk (weird trio) all wind up in an alternate universe where, get this. uncle ben never died and spider-man is evil.

but not like sexy evil. like evil evil. like collecting other spider-man and draining their powers evil.

and wade is also evil. he's like, dr doom evil.

spider-man and deadpool don't interact a whole lot, they kind of all have their own stories going on, but i just love the little interactions that they do have.

they're so cute. so cute.

other than that, uh. cable and deadpool #24? that's required reading - spider-man and deadpool's first canonical meeting.

other team-ups that exist but, you know, they're just okay. or they're very brief. deadpool (2008) #19-#21 amazing spider-man #611 (hate you, joe kelly) spider-man/deadpool (2016) (STILL hate you, joe kelly) avengers vs x-men: axis #7

deadpool (2013) #7

oh OH. there's also absolute carnage vs deadpool. god. what a weird book. i kind of hate wade's characterisation in it (he is really, really insufferable), but the jokes are funny sometimes.

i love when spider-man calls deadpool "buddy". inexplicably. i just think it's funny.

also we get peter in a cute little pink apron so. what more do you need really.

i love u pink apron peter. i love you.

[namor-the-submariner-dot-net]

IIRC, this is fall out from Civil War (Namor helping Cap and Iron Man trying to start a war with Atlantis by assassinating their ambassador) and the Sub-Mariner Revolution mini-series where a rogue Atlantean sleeper cell set off a bomb. Matt Fraction’s The Order #7 had Namor incomprehensibly surrendering himself to the Order to be arrested for blah, blah, martyr, blah, blah, reasons.  I believe that’s how he ends up in this black box prison.

Warning: this was an odd issue. Fraction had Namor outright lying for no reason that I could see and seemed OOC in places. And, as I said, the surrender didn’t really make sense, especially given he had just scattered his people across the globe, including the surface, and planted his army in Latveria with an alliance with Doom.  It was just a weird plotting choice.

My theory is that Bendis needed Namor imprisoned so Norman Osborn could use freeing him to get Namor on his Cabal. Of course, the fact that Osborn was the one Stark used to assassinate the Atlantean ambassador was never mention, AFAIK.

Hi! Can you help me with this question? In 2009's 'Uncanny X-Men Annual 2' Namor is seen leaving the 'Black Box'. Context? How did he get there? It's the only part of that issue that I don't see how it fits. Excuse my writing, my English is not very good.

We have no knowledge of how Namor was captured and placed in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Black Box, in comics leading up to this one Namor is a current timeline, this is a flashback issue.

There was never any information as to why he was there but considering it's Namor it could have been for a number of reasons such as; He is a political prisoner because he is a Prince of the Undersea Nation, he did something like fighting the U.S. government and was captured, or he turned himself over to be placed under arrest until things could be settled, it wouldn't be the first time Namor went willingly into a prison while knowing he could have broken out at any time but has to do this to appease the humans for some reason. So there really isn't any in canon context as to why he was there.

Uncanny X-Men (1963) Annual 2 (2009)

[jooheons]

spider-man 2099 / miguel o’hara reading guide 

miguel o’hara was a young genetics genius employed at mega corporation alchemax, in the future city of nueva york of the year 2099 (a future universe where all superheroes got wiped out). he became spider-man when one of his experiments to replicate the powers of spider-man is used against him, his dna is rewritten and became fifty percent spider. 

essential reading:

spider-man 2099 (1992), #1-10

spider-man 2099, #11-14

spider-man 2099 annual, #1

2099 unlimited #1-3 *

spider-man 2099, #15

ravage 2099, #15 *

x-men 2099, #5 *

doom 2099 (1993), #14 *

punisher 2099 (1993), #13 *

spider-man 2099, #16-22

spider-man 2099, #23-33

2099 unlimited #8 *

ghost rider 2099 #7 *

spider-man 2099, #34-38

spider-man 2099 special #1

spider-man 2099 meets spider-man #1

2099 unlimited #9-10 *

spider-man 2099, #39-46 *

2099: world of tomorrow (1996), #1-8 *

2099: manifest destiny *

* in early 1996, editor joey cavalieri was fired. it led to the cancellation of the 2099 titles. for spider-man 2099′s case, peter david (creator and writer) chose to resign in solidarity with his editor, finishing his run with issue #44. the last two issues of spider-man 2099 were done without his input and the series ended with issue #46.

* cross-overs are optional reading, they’re grouped together with the original spider-man 2099 issues because it’s part of their collection. 

non-essential reading (crossovers):

fantastic four 2099 (1996), #4, #6, #8

captain marvel (2000) #27-30

exiles (2001-2008), #72 *

exiles #75-99 

exiles annual #1

timestorm 2009-2099 (2009),  #1–4 *

* exiles!miguel is a variant (not the same from his 1992 run), he’s from earth-6375 here. 

* timestorm!miguel is a variant, he’s from earth-96099 here.

semi-essential reading (main marvel universe):

superior spider-man (2013),  #17-21

superior spider-man #22-26

superior spider-man annual #1

superior spider-man #27-31

superior spider-man annual #2 

essential reading (spider-verse event):

spider-man 2099 (2014) #1-5

amazing spider-man (2014) #1

amazing spider-man (2014) #9-15

spider-man 2099 (2014), #6-12

spider-man 2099 (2015), #1-5

spider-man 2099 (2015), #6-10

spider-man 2099 (2015), #11-16

spider-man 2099 (2015), #17-21

spider-man 2099 (2015), #22-25

spider-man 2099 meets spider-man (1995)

amazing spider-man (2018), #32-36

semi-essential reading (back to 2099):

spider-man 2099 (2019)

spider-man 2099: exodus alpha (2022)

spider-man 2099: exodus #1-5

spider-man 2099: exodus omega

spider-man 2099: dark genesis #1-5

other media:

spider-man: shattered dimensions (2010, video game)

spider-man: edge of time (2011, video game)

ultimate spider-man, the spider-verse: part 1 (2015, animated series)

spider-man: into the spider-verse (2018, film)

spider-man: across the spider-verse (2023, film)

this reading guide will be updated should any upcoming projects arise! 

[fatehbaz]

taking relentless severe psychic damage from watching several hours of videos of television commercial advertisements from the United States in December 1999.

a world-historical moment, an all-time high peak of self-assured smirking arrogance.

ascendant home computers and internet modems. a new millennium! a time after Cold War but before Nining Leven, with saxophone-playing heads of state and cheery Spielbierg-ian sentimentality attempting to plaster over 1970s/1980s disappointments and hangovers with renewed millennarian End-Of-History optimism.

come celebrate with us! look at these images of The Nation! from sparkling Times Square and the cast of "Friends" in bustling cosmopolitan New York City, to sunny Californian prosperity, to those cartoonish frogs in the quasi-mythical Deep South-ish rural periphery of Budweiser ads, and all the suburban Midwestern Kay's Jeweler's in between! planetary hegemony. "Head east from the Colosseum, across the ruts of chariots, and you'll find an imperial estate built by a second-century Caesar. It's a rough ride. And if the agile and durable Chevy Tracker can handle these ancient roads, driving back home will be a walk in the park. Chevy Tracker: It Gets Around!"

or perhaps "our" power extends beyond this terrestrial imperium, into space, conquering the stars. UFOs; space aliens; The X-Files; Independence Day; Space Jam; Men in Black; the Phoenix Lights; Coast to Coast AM on the radio; Space Command in Colorado Springs.

the anxious fragility belied by the desperate constant promotion of an almost religious dedication to recognizable icons.

talking chihuahuas, marketing jingles, annual football game events. self-referential circular cross-promotion maelstrom.

"An all-new holiday spectacular, a Christmas special destined to become a family classic! With music from REM's Michael Stipe, voiced by Ally McBeal's Peter MacNicol, and starring Drew Barrymore! It's Olive the Other Reindeer! At 8/7 Central Fox Friday!"

trying to insist that this "classic" cultural iconography binds us. it has always lived in your heart. fabricating in real-time a supposedly shared history, insisting on this "reality" even at the moment of its very creation. hammering away at the soul.

Daffy Duck saunters in and pronounces: "Eat your way into the new millennium with this 'gigundo' party sub from Subway!"

why aren't you smiling?

[yalster54]

greypryde reading guide 🤭

★ Uncanny X-Men (1963) #141-142

★ Uncanny X-Men (1963) #192

★ X-Men/Alpha Flight (1985) #1-2

★ Uncanny X-Men (1963) #194-196

★ Uncanny X-Men Annual 9

★ Uncanny X-Men (1963) #201, #203, #207-208, #210

★ Excalibur: The Sword is Drawn

★ Excalibur (1988) #1-5, #11-17, #20, #26-27, #34, #42

★ Excalibur (1988) #48-50, #52, #54, #65-67, #74-75

★ X-Men True Friends (1999) 1-3

★ X-Treme X-Men (2001) #44-46

★ X-Treme X-Men (2022) #1-5

★ Uncanny X-Men (1963) #444, #448

★ X-Men (1991) #165

★ Uncanny X-Men (1963) #4

★ New Excalibur (2005) #1-3

★ Uncanny X-Men (1963) #466-468, #469-471

★ Wolverine and the X-Men (2011) #4-7, #10

★ Wolverine (2010) #305-306

★ Marvel Knights X-Men #1

★ X-Men (2013) #5

★ All New Doop (2014) #1-3

★ Nightcrawler (2014) #1

★ X-Men Gold (2017) #1, #21

★ X-Men Gold (2017) Annual 1

★ Excalibur (2019) #10

★ Marauders (2019) #11-12

★ X-Factor (2020) #10

definitely read the entirety of x-men the end (even tho its an au) cause they are so so gay in that

[myxmentrashblog]

AU where Scott and Logan sign each other up for therapy sessions and then actually go.

I'm here to look out for Wolverine

(New X-Men #144)

[petrerpkr]

Wanda maximoff reading order

Marvel release calendar & marvel timeline

For in depth Reading order

Avengers Origins: The Scarlet Witch & Quicksilver

Mystic Arcana: Scarlet Witch(2007)

Avengers (1965)#16-255

Vision and the Scarlet Witch #1 (1982)

West Coast Avengers Vol. 2 (1988) #42-46

Avengers: West Coast #48-62 (1989)

Avengers Vol. 3 #1-84(1998)

Avengers Disassembled(2004) #500-503

Avengers finale (2005)

House of M /reading order(2005)

Mighty Avengers #21-32 (2009)

Avengers: The Children's Crusade (2010)

Avengers vs x men/reading order

Avengers & X-Men Axis (2014)

Uncanny Avengers (2012-2015)

Vision Vol. 2(2016) #7

Scarlet Witch Vol. 2 (2016)

Star (2020)

Strange Academy(2020)

Empyre: X-Men (2020)

X-Men: The Trial of Magneto (2021)

Darkhold (2021)

Scarlet Witch (2023) #1 to #10 & Scarlet Witch Annual (2023) 

Crypt of Shadows(2023)

Scarlet Witch & Quicksilver (2024)

Scarlet Witch (2024)

[angelasscribbles]

All That She Wants Chapter 7: Now What?

Series: All That She Wants

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for this chapter: Liam x Olivia

Word Count: 1,297 Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: faintest whiff of lemons

My other stuff: Master List.

Chapter is under the cut.

"Damn, that was good.” Olivia was still pinned against the shower wall, water cascading down her naked body as Liam pulsed inside her. Her nails raked across his shoulders. “But this isn’t what you summoned me to the palace for.”

“No, it isn’t. But it is a nice fringe benefit.” He smirked as he pulled out of her and lowered her to the ground.

Olivia made a noncommittal noise as she turned the water off and stepped out of the walk-in shower. She grabbed two towels from the warmer and tossed one at Liam before drying herself off. Wrapping herself in the plush robe hanging on the back of the door, she turned to face her lover expectantly. “Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?”

“I thought we could discuss things over dinner. It should be here soon.” He opened the door and exited the bathroom.

The bedroom in the suite that was always reserved for House Nevrakis contained a dresser stocked with men’s clothing in the king’s size. He began dressing, humming happily to himself.

Olivia followed him. “I would prefer if you just tell me whatever it is. Is it about the annual budget for Lythikos? Because—”

“No, no, nothing like that!” He assured her as he pulled on a pair of pants. Noting her serious expression, he huffed out, “Fine. I’ll tell you now.”

“Please do.”

“Riley has given me two days to decide to either give her a baby or a divorce. I have a day left to decide.”

“Okay…” Olivia said carefully. “What does that have to do with me? If you want to keep your wife, give her a baby. If you don’t, then what’s the problem?”

Liam gaped at her. How could she not see the obvious? “It has everything to do with you, with us! This is our chance to be together, Liv. For real this time! I’ll give her the divorce and then you and I can get married. No more hiding, no more pretending!”

Olivia’s face bore a mixture of horror, disbelief, and amusement. “Liam, you know all the reasons I said no to your proposal the first time.”

“But this is different, Liv! I know you never wanted children, but I’ve already had them! You won’t have to—”

She drew back as he stepped toward her. “You expect me to be a stepmother?”

“I have nannies, Liv. And they have a mother. Riley won’t stop being their mom.”

Olivia shook her head vigorously back and forth. “I hope you didn’t call me here to make some sort of proposal. If you want to divorce your wife, be my guest. But I’m not replacing her.”

“Why not?”

Olivia snorted with exasperation. “We’ve been over this. Your world comes with too many strings and obligations, for starters.”

“You don’t want to be queen.”

“No. You know this.”

Liam sighed in frustration, but he wasn’t giving up. “There is a third option.”

“What is it?”

“Let someone else give her a baby.”

Olivia’s eyebrows shot up. “Would you even agree to that?”

“If I agree to it, we would go public with the Cordonian Arrangement. There’s no way around that. The mandatory paternity test would out us.”

Her eyebrows shot even higher. “That is not something I would expect you to do. You’re too conscious of your public image, decorum, tradition—”

“Generally, yes, but there is an upside here.”

“I’m listening.”

“If it’s public knowledge, then that frees me up to do what I want without the hiding and sneaking around. You and I can still be together publicly, Liv, even if you don’t want to marry me.”

She watched him warily. “Together how?”

“I could make you the official royal mistress.” He offered, his tone, facial expression, and body language implying that he believed this to be a boon.

She stifled a laugh. “Liam, that title comes with almost as much baggage as being queen.”

It also would require her to remain faithful to the king, giving up all other lovers, something she was not prepared to do.

His face fell. The romantic dinner he had planned was going completely sidewise, and the food hadn’t even arrived yet.

Olivia tried to disarm the situation. “I’m sure she’s bluffing, anyway. Riley is in love with you, Liam. She’s not going to get pregnant by someone else.”

He laughed humorlessly. “She’s already sleeping with Drake.”

“With Drake?” Olivia focused on him with an intensity he found a little uncomfortable. “He had a vasectomy. When he and I were an item. We both agreed—”

“He offered to reverse it for her.”

Olivia felt like the floor had fallen out from under her. “He what?”

Anger rose like the tide inside him as he clocked her reaction. “He offered to reverse it for her. Why are you so upset? Do you still have feelings for him?”

“What? No!” she scoffed, but her inability to look him directly in the eye told him everything he needed to know.

He tamped down his rage as best he could. He needed things clarified for him. “So, you won’t marry me if I get divorced, and you won’t be my official mistress if I don’t. Do you actually want any type of relationship with me at all, or have I been wasting my time all these years?”

She threw her hands up in the air as she stalked away from him. “Don’t be so fucking dramatic. I have always been crystal clear that our relationship is purely sexual. You know I have other lovers and I like it that way. I need my space and freedom, Liam. I don’t want to be tied down to any one person.”

“Unless it’s Drake, you mean.”

“Oh, for the love of God, stop it. I am not in love with Drake.”

Liam felt like he’d just been slapped. “Who said anything about love? I didn’t use that word, you did!”

“Stop trying to make this about me! This is about you and Riley! Why do you need my input to make this decision?”

“Because I love you and I thought you loved me back!” White hot fury mingled with wretched despair.

He had convinced himself they were star-crossed lovers, kept apart by circumstance. He had believed that if the universe aligned so that they could be together, then they would be together.

He had been willing to throw his reputation to the wind for her. Willing to disregard public opinion and be the first monarch in Cordonian history to get a divorce. He had frozen out his wife, the woman that did love him, for a lie. A lie he’d told himself.

Olivia Nevrakis had just ripped his heart out for the second time in their lives.

“I’m sorry, Liam. Maybe you should go.”

He gathered his things and left without another word. The walk back to the royal wing felt like a million miles as he contemplated the fact that Olivia was still in love with Drake.

He hated him for it.

He knew it wasn’t fair. Drake didn’t seem to return Olivia’s feelings, nor did he seem to be encouraging or leading her on in any way.

Still.

It rankled that the only reason the woman he loved didn’t love him back was because Drake Walker existed.

Exacting any type of revenge seemed pointless. Drake hadn’t done it on purpose. He had, in fact, backed all the way off when Liam had asked him to.

Olivia wasn’t aware of it, but Liam was the reason Drake had broken things off with her.

That fact didn't make him feel any better about the situation.

An emotion he wasn't proud of stirred in his chest.

If Liam couldn’t have the woman he wanted, why should Drake get the one he wanted?

Maybe it was time to reconnect with his wife.

[gerec]

I want to thank your for your amazing fics and recs!!

Plus I wanted to ask if you have any Halloween cherik fic recs? It could about them just celebrating Halloween or about them being monsters or something spooky. Anything that’s considered Halloween themed.

Guys, Sept and Oct have been such busy months for me in RL I haven't had the chance to catch up with recs and writing eek! Hopefully after next week things will slow down so I can properly partake in fandom again lol.

In the meantime, here are a list of Halloween fics for you to check out! I linked a post at the end to a list of vampire aus, but I'll be back with a monster themed Halloween rec list in a short while. Happy reading!!!

HALLOWEEN FIC RECS - PART 1

King of the Pumpkin Patch by tahariel

Charles has a Scaring deficit, but Erik is happy to help him learn to be more frightening this Halloween.

Fusion with Nightmare Before Christmas.

Ring In The Witching Hour by luninosity

Halloween at the mansion (written February 2012). Costume parties, ethics debates, emotional hurt/comfort, implied sex; slight warning for not-very-explicit mention of abuse in Charles's childhood.

To Boldly Dress (Like Those Who Might Have Gone Before) by iberiandoctor (jehane)

Erik doesn’t do Halloween costumes. Peter and Charles try to change his mind.

Seal Your Doom Tonight by CharryWotter

It's October at the X-Mansion, and as everyone prepares for the Halloween party, Peter makes a promise to his friends that he'll finally confess to Erik that he's his son...on Halloween.

When the day rolls around, at Peter's suggestion, Erik is dressed up as a zombie - and is completely out of his element. The party is loud and crowded; and through the noise, Peter gets up the courage and shouts the truth to Erik.

There's just one problem. Under the pounding music of the party, the words "You're my dad," sound quite a lot like "You're undead."

So can you really blame Erik for replying, "I AM AWARE! IT'S YOUR FAULT!"?

with the spiders on the wall by orphan_account

Erik is used to getting roped into a costume for Halloween, what with having 7 year old twins. This year is no different.

Trick or Treat by ximeria

Erik might have developed a bit of a crush on Raven's brother without ever having met him. It's just that he keeps witnessing Raven losing every argument with him on the phone and Erik is curious, okay? Anyone who can argue Raven out of one of her harebrained ideas has to be worth meeting.

The Most Sincere Patch by starlady

"Sexy professor" Charles meets a sexy vampire at Moira's annual Halloween party.

Xavier Family Values by winter_hiems

Charles and Erik love all their children. They’re just a little worried that David might be becoming, well… normal.

(An X-Men Addams Family AU)

trick or treat by pocky_slash

A Halloween ficlet collection.

Haunted House on the Hill��by ximeria

Erik's not too sure at first about Raven talking him into taking Lorna to a haunted house party in Westchester. What if it's too scary? What if it's too boring? Is he expected to socialize as well?

Adam and Steve by TurtleTotem

Charles doesn't have a partner for Emma's couples-themed Halloween party, but perhaps he can tempt Erik to help him out...

A Headmaster in Sleepy Hollow by arcapelago (arcanewinter)

Sean is engrossed with the Legend of Sleepy Hollow when Charles lets slip that the historical location is just 30 miles away on the other side of Westchester county. Sean and Alex sneak out of the mansion to investigate, and Charles and Erik go to retrieve them, surprised to discover that North Tarrytown has at least one mystery for the holiday. (Set in the Burdens universe.)

Perfect Match by Gerec

Cherik - mistaken identity at a Halloween party

Vampire AUs

[a-killer-obsession]

Wavelengths [Killer x Reader, Heat x Reader]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 7 - Trust

You help Mohawk give the crew their annual medical checkups.

WC: ~4k

Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth

Apparently the Kid Pirates took their health more seriously than Yin would have guessed, because during dinner it was decided that tomorrow Yin would start her new job in the infirmary by assisting with annual medical checkups. Apparently Mohawk was adamant that the crew have regular health assessments, though to be honest only the top dogs ever usually made it through more than one annual checkup. Henchmen and cabin boys didn't often survive that long. Regardless, he kept well organized records of everyone currently on the ship, with manila folders containing sheets of information, from medical history to blood types to work he'd done himself. They were all kept in careful alphabetical order in filing cabinets that sat in the infirmary, organized by first name since many of the ship's occupants didn't have a surname.

With the addition of Yin's skills he was determined to add a new sheet of paper to each file, documenting old bone breaks, as well as any current internal issues that he might not have been able to catch without scanning equipment. The crew wasn't due for their annuals for another month or so, but he was excited to test out her abilities, so he'd convinced Kid to bring it forward.

She followed him to the infirmary after breakfast, where he gave her a quick tour of the room before performing her own checkup. He usually liked to do an initial interview when a new crewmate came on board but there hadn't really been the opportunity to do it till now. Anytime she'd been free, he'd been busy.

She gave him the short version of her life, he wasn't shocked to hear how the marines had treated her. They discussed contraceptives for a short while, but in truth he didn't really know much about them, since he was used to working for a crew of only men. She told him she had some sort of implant the commodore had forced on to her, so he made a note to look in to it, but left it be at that. The entire female reproductive system was something he was going to need to study now. He at least didn't need to inquire about her last cycle, or how irregular her period was, since he'd heard from Heat what happened during her initiation. He'd been unsurprised to discover the slave mark burned in to her skin in the middle of her back, it was long healed since it had been probably twenty years since she was branded.

“Any old injuries to note?” He asked, pulling out the new page he'd whipped up yesterday and photocopied a million times. It had a simple outline of a human, duplicated and labeled ‘front’ and ‘back’, with space around the edges so he could make notes and draw arrows to mark notable injuries.

“I broke my left ankle when I was learning to moon step, when I was about fourteen,” she said, tapping her lip with her index finger while she tried to recall past injuries, “oh and I dislocated my right hip when I was eight”

“How'd you do that?” He asked, making quick notes on the page.

“Got raped by a man too big for me,” she said plainly. He paused and put down his pen, letting out a heavy sigh. She seemed indifferent, like she'd just told him she'd fallen from a tree or something. You know, something normal for an eight year old to have done. He didn't pry further, she'd already given him her life story, he didn't need more information.

“I just need to check your eyes and ears and we can start calling the crew in for their checks,” he said, wheeling his stool over to sit in front of her. She was sitting over the side of the examination table. The infirmary wasn't large, but it was big enough for a decent size desk, an examination table, and a couple of more comfortable beds for those who needed a quiet place to recover, or required observation. The walls were lined with cabinets, many of them under lock and key, bookcases containing medical journals, and several tall filing cabinets. The room didn't have any windows, since it was smack in the middle of the building that sat above deck towards the back of the ship, and it smelt heavily of medical grade disinfectant.

“Can you remove your mask for me?” He asked politely, otoscope in hand.

“I can but you have to be quick, did Killer explain how my mask works to you?” She asked.

“He did, you won't be able to hear or see me properly, correct?” He said, “I'll be quick, just look straight ahead and stay still, I'll put your mask back on as soon as I'm done”

“Okay then, I think I trust you,” she slid her mask off and placed it on the bed beside her, sitting as still as she could, “okay, go ahead,” she couldn't make out her own voice, but she hoped she was speaking.

He gasped as he looked at her eyes and saw the grey-pink, no whites or iris or discernable pupil visible on them. He pushed it aside for now, he had to check her ears first. He moved quickly, knowing that every second he took was another second for her to become overwhelmed. Killer had warned that in the past she'd been known to become feral when she was without her mask, and he didn't feel like getting bitten today.

Her ears looked healthy, so he swapped his otoscope for his ophthalmoscope, rolling his stool to be directly in front of her and gently pulling her eyelids away to see more of her eyeballs. It was useless, he couldn't make out anything remotely human on her eyes other than the shape - whatever was going on with them was outside of his skillset. He sighed and gave up, putting the tool down and picking her mask up to slide carefully over her head. She felt it starting to touch her, so she quickly took over and shimmied it into its usual comfortable position.

“All done?” She asked.

“All done, thanks for not biting me,” he half laughed as he scribbled notes in her chart.

“I only do that to men who ask nicely,” he assumed she winked after that but he couldn't tell past the visor.

“Right,” he tried to brush it off, he wasn't one who was comfortable or who knew how to react to open flirting, “so, with the others. I'll do all my usual examinations, and when I'm done I'll have you scan them. I want to hear about any current or old injuries, and any abnormalities you see. I've never had access to scanning equipment so it'll be mostly new information for me.”

“Okay, can do doc!” She replied, moving from the exam table to the desk, sitting on the edge and kicking her feet.

“One last thing,” Mohawk said as he stood to go find his first patient. Most of the crew thought medical checks were for pussies and would no doubt be unwilling victims, “everything in this room comes under doctor-patient confidentiality okay? You're my nurse now, everything you hear is to be kept private. And keep it professional, you may be surprised how many of these men have STIs. If I hear a single laugh while I'm looking at someone's dick I'll have Killer drown you, got it?”

“Genitals don't phase me, most of the showers in the marines were mixed gender,” she shrugged, “you may be surprised to hear how many dicks I've come face first with to check for UTIs”

“Okay, good, we should have no issues then,” he said, “get off the desk, it's not professional. Sit in my chair till I need your assistance. I'll be mostly on the stool anyway”

“Roger that, doc,” she gave a mock salute and slid off the desk as he left.

Yin really was surprised at how many henchmen had STIs, and by the time they were done she was sure she could recite Mohawk's safe sex spiel of the top of her head, word for word. A few henchmen had been suffering in silence with bad constipation, and one had a badly broken toe. The cabin boys were all relatively healthy, but Mohawk gave them all the safe sex talk anyway, since it wouldn't be long before they started getting curious about the women, and he desperately hoped he could keep them from turning in to disease-ridden henchmen. Some of them were already partaking, but had been lucky enough to not catch anything.

It was well in to the afternoon when they got to the officers and commanders. The officers were all healthy, being that they'd been on the ship long enough to have regular checkups and knew well to follow Mohawk's advice. Yin had to stand on the examination table to check Wire's head, since he was just so damn tall.

She was surprised to find during Heat's examination that he actually had several hidden piercings that she could see through his clothes while she scanned him. She didn't ask why his dick was pierced, it didn't seem like an appropriate medical question. Kid wasn't happy about being examined, and complained the whole time that he was too busy for this shit. Mohawk gave him a long, stern talking to about drinking less beer and more water, if he didn't want a repeat of yesterday. She hadn't realised that the metal arm didn't have a real arm inside, she'd just assumed it was some sort of cover. She bit back a gasp when he removed it so Mohawk could check the stump of what used to be an arm. The base had metal embedded in to it, assumedly to help the prosthetic stick. She did her best to not gawk.

Last up was Killer, who they had to wait quite long for since he had been busy with some new recipe he had wanted to try that required being cooked slowly for many hours. He smelled of freshly cut herbs and bread when he entered, mixed with his usual scent of musk and spices. He locked the door as he entered, and Yin came to the jarring realisation that he was probably going to need to remove his mask. Mohawk went through his usual line of questioning before standing in front of Killer, he was too tall to examine from the stool. He did the same flexibility and grip strength tests he'd done for everyone else, and tapped his knees with a little hammer to check reaction times, before picking up his otoscope and turning to Yin expectantly.

“Right, sorry,” she said, turning and facing the wall. She heard something click and hair rustling as Killer removed his mask. “Hey um.. should I examine his head while the mask is off? I can't see his face if I'm scanning him, I promise”

“My head is fine,” Killer said flatly.

“I'm making notes of old injuries as well though, its important for my records,” Mohawk explained, “she's fast, it'll only take her a moment to check your head if nothing is wrong”

“Fine,” he sighed, “as long as she can't see”

“If my visor is dark green or red, I can't see you, just your insides,” she said, “to be honest I can only make out faces when its purple or like a neon green”

“Neon green is what you had when you killed the seaking right?” Killer asked, “is that some sort of night vision?”

“Yeah,” she explained, still awkwardly facing the wall, “and I can see pretty deep in the water as well, thats how I saw the seaking. I'm gonna turn around now, okay? I'll only be able to see your bones”

“Okay,” he replied. Mohawk finished checking Killer's eyes and stepped aside for her. She couldn't see well, but she'd spent all day in the room so she knew there was no furniture between them, and she could see their skeletons, the metal base of the examination bed, and Killer's mask sitting on the bed bedside him. She used what she could see as a guide to carefully make her way over, but she couldn't see the floor so her steps were awkward and she tripped.

“Woah, careful,” Mohawk said as he caught her, “what's wrong with you?”

“Can't see the floor,” she laughed, “I can only really see your bones and the metal things in the room, like Killer's mask and the base of the bed. Hard to walk without a floor”

She righted herself and stood carefully in front of Killer, who was definitely too tall. “You're too big, I'm gonna need to get on the table,” she climbed up on the side of him that didn't hold his mask, thankful that the base was metal and the mattress was thin so she could even see what she was doing. In her mind she was adding thickness to all the things she could see to account for what she couldn't.

“Ah- my hair-” Killer growled and pulled away, she'd unknowingly knelt on his long blond locks that had been resting against the bed.

“Fuck, sorry Kil,” she said, kneeling behind him, “I couldn't see it”

“It's fine, just get it over with,” he muttered, pulling his hair over his shoulder to the front so she couldn't catch it again.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” She asked as professionally as she could, “I need to turn your head”

“That's fine,” he replied.

She put her hands gently on either side of his head, carefully turning it and moving her hands around as she examined. It felt like he had thick bangs over his forehead, which definitely surprised her.

“Fuck you have a lot of old fractures for someone who wears a helmet,” she noted, “I can see… seven, Mohawk, if you want to note that down”

“Got it,” he replied, scribbling in his notes.

She turned Killer's face to look at her, her thumbs tracing his cheeks as she inspected them. She didn't even realise how intimate she was being, it was a natural process for her. His jawline seemed strong and his cheekbones looked prominent, if she had to guess she'd say he must have a sharp, attractive face. It looked symmetrical at the bone level, but who knows what kind of scars or deformities he might have on top that caused him to wear a mask.

“Old fracture on the left cheek as well,” she said, “I'd bet good money Kid did that”

“It'd be a winning bet,” he replied, suppressing a smile. Mohawk was busy with his notes, and she couldn't actually see his face, but he felt exposed anyway, and he didn't want anyone to see his ugly smile - the real reason he wore a mask.

“I'm gonna switch to red now okay?” She said, removing one of her hands from his face to fiddle with her mask. The visor turned red and her hand returned to his face, “Nothing of note on the front, eyes look healthy, frontal lobe looks fine,” she turned his head and made her way around, checking the side, then the back, then the other side. She paused, holding his head firmly in place. “Mohawk?”

“Mmm?” He looked up from his notes.

“There's something here, on the outside, towards the base of the neck,” she said, running her hand through Killer's hair and pulling it gently aside to clear the area she wanted Mohawk to check, “right here,” she pointed as she saw the bag of organs and veins that formed Mohawk stand beside the bed.

“It looks like a small cyst,” he said, prodding it with a gloved hand, “Killer I thought I told you to let me know if your mask did shit like this, it looks like it's about where the edge would rub”

“It's nothing,” he pulled Yin's hand out of his hair, entirely ignoring how nice her delicate hands felt woven through his locks, “I was just gonna deal with it myself”

Mohawk sighed and returned to his desk, “you're staying when she's done checking you over, so I can deal with that. It needs draining”

“I have shit to do,” Killer grumbled.

“Will you stop being a baby and let him do his job?” Yin scowled as she slid off the bed carefully, “now stand up so I can finish the scan, you can put your mask back on but I still have to check the rest of you”

He sighed and put his mask back in place before unwillingly standing, she tugged his arm to pull him further from the bed so she could walk all the way around him and quickly went about her scan, checking his bones first, then switching back to the red mode. She lifted his left arm as she checked his side.

“Your heart is beating a little fast Kil, you okay?” She noted.

“His heart rate was fine before,” Mohawk mused, quirking an eyebrow at Killer, who scowled under his mask at the clear insinuation.

“I'm just pissed off, now hurry the fuck up and quit touching me,” he growled.

“Anddd mister grumpymask is back,” she smiled, “relax, I'm done. He's all clear, doc, fit as a fiddle”

“Good, thats everyone then,” Mohawk said as he made a few last notes and stood to start collecting the supplies he needed for Killer's cyst, “you can go, Yin, thank you for your help. It won't always be this much work, I promise”

“Its fine,” she replied, unlocking the door to leave, “this was fun, I was happy to help. See you two at dinner,” she sung as she left. Mohawk gave her a weak goodbye, and Killer remained quiet.

Dinner wasn't far off, in fact by the time Mohawk was done with Killer it was time to head to the dining hall. Everyone else was already there, and Killer quickly finished off the special recipe of slow cooked beef and beer stew that he'd been working on earlier, with several fresh loaves of sourdough he'd made earlier to go with it.

“Anything of importance to report from the annuals?” Kid asked Mohawk as he dipped his bread in the hearty stew.

“Just that your henchmen need to keep it in their pants if they can't learn to use a rubber,” Mohawk sighed.

“The usual then,” Kid laughed, “dirty cunts”

“Oi, Yin,” Wire interjected, “I've got a question for you”

“Hit me,” she replied with a smile, inhaling another mouthful of the delicious stew - Killer's cooking really was the best she'd ever had.

“How did you know anything about us or our reputation if you've been locked away for the last five years?” He asked in a serious tone. It felt like an integration, like he was about to crack open that everything she'd told them was a lie, “you knew who Heat and I were, you knew the Captain and Killer, you said you knew you'd fit in here. But you've been in a cell for the last five years, and we only got our first bounties a few years ago”

Eveyone else turned and stared at her, and Kid stopped eating entirely, mulling it over in his head and coming to the same realisation Wire had, that the dots didn't connect. “How did you know about us?” Kid was almost growling, it felt like a threat.

She sighed and put down her spoon, looking across the table at Killer's expressionless mask, like he could offer some sort of support. “You really want to know? You're not gonna like the answer”

“Answer the fucking question,” Kid said sternly, grinding his teeth.

“Okay, fuck, don't bite my fucking head off. I'd been with the commodore you found me with for most of my imprisonment, and I guess you could say he was a fan of yours,” she explained, careful to speak to Kid directly, so as not to incur any further wrath from him, “when you came on to the grandline he started getting a bit obsessed. Every time he came to… visit me… he would tell me about your crew, and the big promotion he was gonna get when he took you down. Which is ironic, in hindsight. Anyway at some point he started bringing in your bounty posters, the four of you, mostly Kid's, and he'd use them against me if I wasn't obediently letting him have his way with me. He'd say shit like ‘you're so lucky you have me here to protect you and make you feel so good’ and then he'd wave Kid's poster in my face and say ‘this cunt would rip your legs off just so he could fuck the bloody holes left behind, he'd rape you to death and then he'd keep going. His whole crew would rape your dead body till you were nothing but a pile of rotting bones’. Sometimes he'd leave the posters in the cell with me, to remind me of my place, so I got familiar with your faces. Of course I never believed that shit, it wasn't hard for me to see that the marines are the bad people in this world, I've seen pirates as the good guys for a long time now. The second Kid let me go the day you found me, I knew I was right and the commodore was full of shit. Not that I think there aren't pirates that rape, I just knew for sure that you guys didn't. Anyway, yeah. That's how.”

Kid was visibly angry, not at her but at the commodore, as he tore a huge chunk of bread from an untouched loaf and dipped it with a little too much force in to his stew, making liquid spill out around the edges of the bowl, “Fucker…” he said through a full mouth.

“I did say you wouldn't like it,” she grumbled, looking mournfully at her stew. She no longer had any appetite but forced herself to keep eating anyway. She didn't want to offend Killer by not finishing the food he'd made them.

“Sorry,” Wire said solemnly, “I shouldn't have pried”

“It's okay Wire,” she forced a smile for him, “I get it. I'm a stranger, you don't trust me, and things didn't add up. You were just protecting the crew. I hope you'll come to trust me, in time, like I'm trying my best to learn to trust all of you”

“Trust is hard earned,” Killer added plainly.

“You think I don't know that?” She almost yelled in clear annoyance. Heat spooked a little as she slammed a closed fist on the table, “You think its easy for me to be sitting here on a ship full of men when every man who has every touched me has raped me? You think I don't know how hard it is to learn to trust someone? Cut me some fucking slack, Killer”

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“I'm not very hungry anymore,” she said, frustrated and angry. She felt like she was being treated like the enemy, and she'd done nothing to deserve it. She'd been working hard every day to earn their trust, and she felt brushed off. “Sorry, the food was delicious Killer, I'm just… not hungry anymore”

“Leave the bowl, I'll finish it,” Kid told her. He grabbed her hand before she left, “you'll have our trust, Killer's is just a little harder to earn. You're doing good work here, just give it time. I hope I can earn your trust as well, as your Captain”

“Thanks, Kid,” she sighed as he let her hand go. She didn't say anything more, and they watched as she quickly disappeared out of the galley and the doors swung shut behind her.

[NEXT CHAPTER]

[comicwaren]

This week on Marvel Comics (28th August 2024):

Amazing Spider-Man Vol. 6 #056

Captain America Vol. 11 #012

Chasm: Curse of Kaine #001 (NEW!)

Fantastic Four Vol. 7 #024

Incredible Hulk Annual Vol. 2 #001 (One-shot)

Marvel 85th Anniversary Special #001 (One-shot)

NYX Vol. 2 #002

Phases of the Moon Knight #001 (NEW!)

Spider-Gwen: The Ghost-Spider #004

Ultimate X-Men Vol. 2 #006

Venom War: Zombiotes #001 (NEW!)

Venomverse Reborn #003

X-Force Vol. 7 #002

X-Men Vol. 7 #003

[diluclover300]

Just One Week (7)

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

also posted on my ao3 account: diluclover300

CHAPTER INDEX:

I H8 U

My Kinda Fun

Balance

{S] Awake

Eggs and Rice

Wait, but I'm broke

Couple's Discount

CHAPTER 7: Couple's Discount

...

Satoru is beyond ecstatic, his vision sticky and gooey at the insane amount of silks and wools carefully hung and displayed. There's a catalog of clothes, an array of expensive clothes. Top-tier luxury brands, ones you'd catch celebrities sporting like a pair of pajamas at the local airport. Ones that he can caress between the delicate friction of his fingers as a warm smile spreads across his face like butter on toast. Oh, how lucky he is. 

To reunite with his long-lost friend, whom he spent years tracking down, whom he was able to convince into allowing this moment to blossom into reality. He feels like a kid in a candy store, ogling at each piece of fabric, at each suit jacket and pant. And how tempting the sight is, how it tempts him to envelope himself in pure greed like a creature of sin. 

The assortment of colors, the breathtaking pigments, the unique textures of each cloth...

The excitement is so wonderful, so captivating that he doesn't even begin to notice the woman greeting him at the door. He takes off like a rocket ship, roaming around the men's section. A maze that he hasn't ventured in, yet one that feels familiar and natural to navigate through pure instinct. 

This must be heaven. 

"I think he, uh... I'm so sorry if he causes trouble." You half-groan, head threatening to hang low at Gojo's energetic aura. "Thank you."

The woman nods, a typical response that you'd expect from someone working customer service. You've been in that position before, squeezing out an exhausted smile at something you had no idea how to respond to. Funny enough, your cheeks sting from the muscle memory. 

You think to apologize once more, but you refrain, biting your tongue as you dejectedly follow after Gojo. He buries his head in a ring of hung-up clothes, swiping through each shirt like a potential match on Tinder. 

"Oh? Do you frequent here often?" 

You turn back, confusion overcoming your face. 

"No, I've never been, actually." You slowly shake your head, examining the woman for a moment. "Why?"

That low bun of hers wrapped in a red scarf, and that sleek, white uniform doesn't ring a bell. Does she know you?   

"Oh, sorry, it's just that your jacket... I couldn't help but notice that it is from our brand." 

"Oh," You smile, the interaction as awkward as awkward gets. "That's weird, I never noticed." 

You walk away with an understanding nod, fumbling with your lips as you fidget with the black jacket lying in the crook of your arm. Now that you think about it, it does feel like silk, expensive silk at that. 

Maybe your memories have faded over the years. It's possible that you snagged this from another one of those annual holiday sales, sort of a bad habit you've accumulated. You always browsed for coats and blazers when no one was around to watch, hunching over that compact cubicle as you frantically refreshed your search engine. Occasionally, when someone would walk past or start conversation, you almost let out a guilty flinch out of fear for getting caught. Almost. 

Nonetheless, the suggestion doesn't strike you. There's not a single instance where you, the loyal slave to some measly corporation, could justify the selfish purchase of a fancy coat. A coat was a coat, no matter the price. It would have torn up in that monster of a washing machine you own either. Not to mention the void and guilt that would stem from such an unnecessary purchase.

"Is that my jacket?" Weird. You don't expect it, but you recall the events from this morning. The skeptical look on his rather punchable face. 

Your fingers trace over the sewn-in label, mumbling the brand to yourself. Even that leaves a pretentious, bitter taste on your tongue.

Nope, it doesn't ring a bell. 

You suppose it's French, and to be honest, you don't have an opinion on the French. There are far more significant matters, at least in your opinion, than some species of European folk. Why would you spend your precious paycheck on such a useless thing?

Everything tells you, everything desperately grasps you by the shoulders and shakes you to your senses. And then you finally uncover the answer as to whether or not you "frequented" such a snobby, stuck-up place. 

"I must be remembering things wrong.." Yeah, remembering things wrong, my ass, you think. 

He lied. Oh dear, you really tried to give him the benefit of the doubt.

And that certain white-haired culprit is currently nowhere to be seen. Quite frankly, you have no idea where you are either. You've lost yourself in the garden of consumerism, swarmed by the amount of clothes and designer bags laying in front of you. A landfill for the rich, you call it. 

But it's peaceful for a bit as it is overwhelming. You're oddly calm when you take in the privilege of Gojo's absence, as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. A heavy one at that. 

Five years was, and is too short, much too measly of a distance. If you had it your way, if the Earth rotated to the drumming of your feet, then you would have never known the words "Gojo Satoru". His face would have been an imaginative blur, those eyes nothing but a mere gaze, and those memories would become one of the infinite "what-ifs" of this universe.

And if you ran into him on a fateful spring day? 

You would have abandoned destiny a long time ago, parted ways like ex-lovers. The occurrence would leave you as you were.

Still, steady, and normal. 

These three values would have stuck with you, through thick and thin. But which one was it? You don't know what to call this incident. Was this the thick? Or was this the thin?

You wonder, mull over it for a bit before you're chained back into the prison of his presence. It's a game of push and pull.

This punishment of a game. 

"Yo! Over here, Y/N." You look up from the leather jacket folded on the display shelf below you, eyes hooked onto that raised hand of his. 

You seem to be on the receiving end, on both sides of that hellish spectrum. 

"Okay." You make your way over to "here", that sigh of yours halted. You have something to ask him anyways, something about that jacket of his. 

His hand is still held up high in the air while the rest of his body entangled in a rack of clothes. Stupid is as stupid does. 

His and Hers, You regrettably read and fully understand the sign hanging overhead from the ceiling, along with the bolded words: NEW Spring Collection.

"Did you find something?" You only ask as a precaution, monitoring his spending habits. An awful habit that solely relied on you and you only for support. 

That hand of his flails around before sinking down into the sea of clothes before him. 

"You're here?" His hands scour and fish into the abyss, voice muffled into the ridiculous amount of suits and dresses stuffed in his face. "I'm surprised-"

A groan follows, the sound of plastic material ringing against his skull. A sound that you would have ignored because it seamlessly blended into the rapid snare of the radio-pop tune playing on the store's speakers.  You could have paid it zero mind if not for the sheer amount of second-hand embarrassment that ensued from your witness of the scene. 

"Careful there," You sneer, watching as his back contorts like a gymnast. "The higher-ups wouldn't want you to come back a complete moron."

Satoru chuckles, scrambling once more before putting an end to his short-lived visit to Narnia. 

"I'm thankful for the concern." There's an array of clothes folded over his arm, and oh, does the sight worry. "Please continue to take great care of me, Y/N."

You give him a strange look, your lips curling in disgust. By no means were you concerned about him, worried about this bafoon of a man. 

"You're dumb." It's a conclusion you should have come to earlier, really.

"Remind me," Satoru's gaze trails off into the air before landing on you. "Who was the one that lost to me last night?" 

You're stumped, mouth opening before it shuts again. That unlucky "who" was you, the loser.

Gojo takes your defeat as an opening, a chance. 

"Wanna try this on?" A dress is shoved into your face, along with that cheeky smile of his that peeks behind the cloth. 

Your attention darts from Gojo to the pink, girlish dress. 

The long-sleeves are puffed just by the slightest bit, and the material a bit translucent until you notice that there (thankfully) is a white cloth underneath to keep yourself covered. Your eyesight was just playing tricks on you. Okay, a bit of decency, you appreciate it. However, you think the skirt is just a little too short, but the sweetheart neckline does look kind of gorgeous, you'll admit. 

"Whaddya think?" He reveals more of that hidden smile of his behind the blinding cloth, along with his now enlarged starry eyes. You don't take that as a good sign, it's more of warning. "Hm?"

Emotionally, you don't exactly feel inclined to wear it, nor does the idea entice you. Logically, you can't and don't want to afford a dress you could easily get for way cheaper on the internet. Besides, you'd rather focus on controlling the inevitable loss of your sweet, hard-earned cash if possible. And with the sleek look of the fabric, along with the carefully stitched in details - the item is nothing but a pure fantasy. 

You intend to keep it that way. 

"No-"

Again. 

Again, again, and again! Satoru groans out of pure annoyance. You're using that word again. That boring word, the word which cages him in like a helpless bird, the word which is so draining, so terribly cruel, absolutely inhumane. 

No. 

How he resents the very existence, the very creation of that word. That word which rolls of your tongue without an ounce of hesitation. 

"No?" Satoru interrupts, raising a brow before yanking off his glasses. 

"Um.." 

When you look into those eyes laced with the pure malice of the devil, your flesh tenses. Your muscles contract, a reaction not one of muscle memory, but one of cold-blooded fear. 

"I, um..." Think, think, think! You can't seem to put two and two together no matter how much your brain tells you to. 

When his eyes release a frosty residue into the air, when you watch the air melt against him, you lose your resolve. Stripped of it, left with the stubbornness lying underneath.  

Telling Gojo Satoru "yes" - you'd rather lie cold in your grave. 

"Is it still a no?" 

No doubt about it, Satoru notices. Your stubbornness surprisingly (as if he hasn't calculated this reaction) clashes with his want. 

Without a single word, you begrudgingly snatch the dress out of his loose grasp, eyes searching around for the dressing room as you turn on your heel, slumping with each step like a deflated skydancer. 

"To your left." Satoru directs, burying the self-conceited excitement down his throat. "You're welcome."

Patience is a virtue, he repeats to himself, over and over as you disappear behind the racks of clothes in front of him. 

...

You don't want to. 

Oh, you really can't stand the look of it because the feeling this dress evokes in you is criminal. The definition of bi-polar, heck, even multi-polar as the fabric drapes around you.

A part of you, the mature side of you, loathes the sight. You feel girlish, frail, and overly-feminine, like a total joke of a woman. You gaze upon the mirror and shy from it, covering your eyes before you peek through your fingers out of pure embarrassment. 

You were well-into your twenties at this point, a young age, but still... weren't you a little too old for this? You can't help but feel that way. With those bags underneath your eyes you look like a princess fresh out of a zombie apocalypse, not some cute, innocent-looking chick. Maybe you look a little fucked-up, honestly. Completely out of place. 

Oh, whatever. You lightly squeeze and pick at the skirt, tracing the pleated lines. 

There's another part of you as well, and you suppose it's your immature side. The side that pokes through your doubts like a roses' thorn. 

It's pretty. You feel kind of special, like an actual princess or some kind of tacky, knock-off Barbie doll. Fluffing your hair, a pit forms in the bottom-left of your stomach, plague pooling up inside of you. 

Envy, desire, selfishness begin to settle in. And to think that you strayed, parted ways with these three "friends" years ago. Only now do they make their grand reappearance. 

So this is what it's like to be normal, isn't it? You ask yourself, only to receive no answer. Surely, this is what it's like to have the world at your fingertips, to have all your wants and desires served to you in silver platter, right? 

You should be jumping up and down right now, squealing like a damn schoolgirl at the idea that you were living out a childhood fantasy of yours.

"It's nice," You mumble, almost as if you're trying to convince yourself to agree. The words don't stick as well as you hoped. 

You're jealous, almost angry you've never got to experience something so trivial, so materialistic. Jujutsu training took up more than half of your youth and those high-school memories you so deeply craved only remained a simple dream. A selfish goal you could never achieve no matter which plan or path you took to get there. The consequences of your choices would always haunt you, and you suppose this is one of those instances when you see the faintest image of a little girl. A little girl with a pair of eyes all too similar, with a nose much like yours, with lips of the same nature. 

You want to scream when your chest compresses against itself, eyes stinging and reddening. 

How tormenting, you would have never imagined your reflection to be one of a burden as your fingers still against the fabric of that dress, lips rolling over each other as a ship sinks to the very bottom of your stomach's oceans. 

You remember. You remember it all too well, those years in elementary school. One question stuck with you in particular. 

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

To first-grade you, that was a simple, easy question. So you churned out an answer with very little thought. 

"I want to be happy! Like... forever?"

Hah. Simple. 

You think, no, you thought that such a simple, inoffensive wish would allow your life to show you a bit of grace, a bit of fulfillment. You were wrong, damn it, you were so wrong that you let out a choked, cowardly sniffle. The little you wouldn't even want to see you face, she'd rather die than accept her reality-

"Yoo-hoo. It's been ten minutes, you done yet?" 

You flinch at his voice, blinking profusely as you touch up your watering eyes. Being sad was one thing, but you were not going to cry around Gojo Satoru. Never. 

"Hello-"

You swing the door open, feeling your eyelashes water before you speak. The sound of your voice is stupid as all can be, but what could you do? You were just crying to yourself like the main character in some cheaply-produced Disney movie. 

"Hi." You frown, crossing your arms as you feel the wind blow against your bare legs. You don't even want to look at him right now. Why? He's not scary. 

It's a silence so thick that follows, so thick that you can't even take in proper breaths from the air that lies between the two of you. 

Gojo Satoru stares, and you hate it. You hate that equally thick stare lying behind those glasses of his, seriously. You want to hide away, crawl into a hole when he hums like that, sucking in his lips as he examines you like a zoo animal. You're going ballistic and all you can do is stand there with your arms crossed as a defense. It's insulting because you're aware of how ridiculous the thing looks on you. Insulting because he makes it so obvious that you look like a little girl playing dress-up.

"What?" You say, tone flat. "Why are you looking at me like that?"  

Oops. He swallows, guilty as charged when he stiffly rubs his neck. Satoru feels like a perv, the memories of that night flooding into the dam of his mind.

No, you're a friend.

Just a friend.

Only a beloved childhood friend of his, so there's no reason that these troublesome fireworks should be going off, bouncing off the barriers of his skin. 

"Like what?" He looks away, hands stuffed in his pocket as he occupies his mind with the displays surrounding him. "I wasn't doing a single thing except looking at the dress." 

Your lips tremble, and you feel dumb. Super dumb. Maybe it's those leftover feelings from earlier that begin to explode out of you, little by little. You can't seem to stop it, and it's killing you as your armor cracks. 

"Is it that bad?" Your voice cracks, and he begins to panic as if he wasn't a nervous wreck before. "Be honest." 

"What? Of course it isn't-"

"Stop lying." You let out, eyes burning up into ashes as they redden like cherries. "I mean it."

"Why would I lie? You- you look pretty." Damn it. He's let the cat out of the bag, fingers covering his lips before he decides to just accept his terrible fate. 

No, that wasn't- that wasn't what you wanted to hear. You toy with the flesh in your mouth, the skin of your forehead scrunching and bunching up. 

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no... You shouldn't be mad at him, he was just looking at the dress, he wasn't judging you, you just made him call you pretty. Wait, you're pretty? 

You ignore that, your skin crawls at the compliment. You hate it, you hate him, everything about him. 

Your eyes are - Ugh. What are you doing? 

"Well, it was just because... because.." You stammer, fiddling with the syllables of your words as the image of that particular black jacket appears in your mind.

"Because?" Satoru questions, taking in a deep breath. He feels strange when your eyes swell up like that, so strange that he can't put it into words even if he tried. 

"Are you crying?" He doesn't know if he should ask, and he's especially scared of sounding like a total asshole. What if the tears just poured out when he asked? But, it felt too wrong, so wrong to just watch you fume up like this without adressing the elephant in the room-- the warm beads flooding the crevices of your eyes. 

"You lied." You use the knuckles of your fingers to pat at the corners of your eyes, breathing in a shaky breath as you do, chest slowly rising. "Why did you-"

Okay, he could understand you were beyond frustrated, but falsely accusing him of lying. Oh, he couldn't stand it, even if it was you pointing fingers at him. Even if it was his dear, beloved friend. 

"When did I-"

"Hello, I just couldn't help but notice that dress on you, ma'am. It looks wonderful."

You turn around, looking like a deer in headlights at the saleswoman who probably watched that whole shit-show with front-row seats. Gojo, on the other hand, takes in a sharp breath, rubbing his cheek before acknowledging the fact that they were in public, fighting in public, like a-

"Oh? Are you two a couple? We actually have a His and Her deal going on until the end of this month. Would you be interested?" It's the same woman he accidentally ignored, the same woman who unknowingly directed you to Gojo's lie. She's back, this time to upsell you on products you really don't need and can't afford. You thought you had formed some kind of alliance, but alas, she was just doing her job. Unfortunately, you were her target. 

Now this, this was the reason for his visit in the first place. There was no way he was going to leave without purchasing color-coordinated outfits, the same ones he's been anticipating the release of since the beginning of winter. Usually, he'd be the type to despise such a release, one that didn't serve him any purpose, but because of you, and solely because of you he was...

"Yes. We're interested-"

"No-" You protest, the tears drying up against the dry of your eyes. 

"We are interested." He grits his teeth at you, pulling you in closer to his side, saving face with a smile as his arm wraps around your uneven shoulders. "There's a matching suit for this dress, right? I saw it in the catalog." 

"I-" You try to refuse, but they've already beat you to it. What was this? Your unlucky day? 

You've been having a lot of those recently. And this day is no different when his arm sticks you to him like glue, feeling the outline of his body against your hip. You shudder, skin crawling once more at the mutual warmth. His fingers press against the fabric of your shoulder, giving you a light squeeze and pat. You might as well bark and get on all fours like his dog at this point, that was how you felt. Like Gojo Satoru's pet, always at his service. 

The woman gives him an eager nod, "I'll get the sets out for you two. Please give me a moment." 

Your eyes shoot up at him, and it's an angry look, no doubt. First, your vision traces his fingers that hold you, then at the knowing smile on his face. He knows you hate it, and he's just going to continue this torture of his until he's satisfied. You didn't even have to go through another cycle of defiance only to cower at his Six Eyes. Like a dog, you've been trained into obedience, without a single treat in your bowl or stomach. 

In other words, you're at a loss. Advantage-wise, speech-wise, physically-speaking, emotionally-speaking... all of it.

Even though you eye him with such venom when that neutral expression looks back down at you, those beads still linger. You don't know what to make of your own conflict anymore, having a difficult time as the ground fills your line of vision. 

"Hey, why did you tell her that?" You whisper-hiss, as if those words were meant to be kept a hidden secret. "Now she thinks we're a couple..."

There they are, Satoru takes notes of those tides as his arm slips from your shoulders. They're clashing, the gritty sand soaking those waves dry. 

"Are you okay?" Did he have the right to ask such a question? To show an ounce of his care? Was he allowed to?

"It was for the discount." Is what comes out instead as he widens the small gap between the both of you. Ironically, this much more appropriate response leaves him questioning his own intentions. "Why? Does it bother you?" 

No, it shouldn't bother you. It doesn't. 

"You ass..." You mutter, hoping that somehow a miracle occurs. One so miraculous that his memories of your vulnerability erase.

However, such miracles never seem to hit you - they miss by a large shot.

"I hate you."

Or maybe they do as Gojo just nods. At least this once as you break contact with him, a comfortable silence settling in. 

"The feeling's mutual, don't worry." 

Satoru doesn't want to test the validity his words.

"You lied." 

That isn't so far off from the truth. 

...

"How is it?"

Your reflection is disappointing. The colors that swallow you are lackluster, they trap you. 

"I don't like it." What outfit was this again? You lost track. 

"Oh, that's too bad. Does it fit?" Satoru crosses his legs, resting in a fancy, maroon velvet armchair. 

"...Yes." You answer, rubbing your arm. You're losing. 

"What was that?" He tips his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, I just can't hear you." 

As if. 

"It fits." You speak up, tone numb as you tell him what he wants to hear. 

"Good." 

This, unfortunately, has been the norm of your conversations for the past two hours. Gojo would pick out an outfit from the spring catalog, force  ask you to try it on, then he'd ask for your optimistic opinions which he held zero regard for whatsoever before buying or trashing it. 

"Excuse me," He holds up a hand before pointing at you. You blink at this, dread filling you whole. "She'll take this one as well." 

You did not say that, but you must be remembering things wrong. 

The saleswoman nods. "Of course, sir."

She moves to pack up a fresh set, but quickly presses onto her own breaks when he opens his mouth to command speak once more. Poor thing, you can't help but feel your own foot ache at the amount of times she's had to deal with this. 

"Also, I want all the accessories."

"A-all?" She raises both eyebrows, masking her shock with a boxy smile. "Are you-"

"I'm sure." Satoru nods, finally looking at the woman. 

"Yes, sir. I'll get started on that right away." She scurries off with such urgency that you'd think she was held at gunpoint. 

Your lips flubber as you exhale, taking in your reflection. Today has weirdly been all about you, in the worst way imaginable. You can't seem to catch a break with the absurd amount of haughty-designer outfits thrown onto you. This one in particular was your least favorite. 

A blue shirt, reminiscent of those soul-sucking Six Eyes, short-sleeved with a slight puff in the shoulders, adorned with buttons of a similar shade. Though it is soft to the touch, it's more than unbelievable to you that this costs around three-hundred yen. The white lace skirt draped all the way down your ankles is no cheaper either, but a couple hundred yen was like child's play for the rich. Another regular day, nothing new. 

Furthermore, Gojo hasn't tried on a single thing. He just assumes he'll like his side of the outfit based on yours, a total gamble of your money.

"Is there anything else...?" You decide to follow routine, but of course, it doesn't work when you finally accept your fate. 

"Nah, you can go change now." He rolls his shoulders back before getting back on his feet, the chair as empty as he found it. "I'll be waiting outside, yeah?"

You carefully nod, studying his sudden change in demeanor as he whistles to himself, that stern expression wiped off the surface of his face. Now that was bipolar. 

"Okay." You'd hate to send him into another frenzy of playing dress-up with a doll that was more than unwilling because you would also like to move on from whatever this was. 

One piece after another, as if you're being timed, you strip down your clothes only to re-dress yourself in your original (work) clothes. Oh, how you long for that nine-to-five lifestyle, how you miss being stuck in that stiff office chair. Today taught you that being rich and ambitious was not for the weak, that you, the weak, suited the likes of a corporate, forty-hour work week. Not this pretend fantasy, this mere illusion. 

Right now, you'd do anything to escape this hell-hole of a place and that demon of man. 

"Oh," Your hands reach for your jacket- sorry, his jacket.

"You lied."

You forgot to prove your point, the evident truth that Gojo Satoru was a liar.

...

You can't believe it. Not a single bit. 

"For the last time, and I say this with all due respect, but your items have already been paid for, ma'am." The bald man at the counter sighs, holding a receipt before you. 

You cautiously scan the very long paper, fingers grabbing it's very end as your eyes widen at the total.   

"But... but-"

You profusely rub your eyes, blinking over and over. You might as well go into cardiac arrest at the seven bolded digits, grasping the thin receipt between your shaky fingers. 

"Correct," His voice cuts through your multiple stammers.  "You didn't pay, your boyfriend did, ma'am."

B-boyfriend? Gojo Satoru? That man? 

"He didn't, and he's not my-" You don't even get the chance to make your case clear. 

"The signature is at the very bottom." 

You stuff your face into the very butt of the paper, eyes flickering between the signature line and the uncanny smiley face drawn on top it. What an eyesore.

How in the world did he pay? You chew onto the flakes of your lips, releasing a deep breath from the very depths of your lungs. You were under the impression that Gojo came here with absolutely nothing but himself. And the flowers. You almost forgot those flowers, and you accidentally remember how ugly and spacious they look sitting on the counter of your kitchen island. 

"Ah, I... I see now, sorry." You let out an involuntary laugh, shoving the receipt down your pocket. "I'm sorry for taking up your time, let me just-" 

You grunt, looping one bag onto your arm after another, the worker behind the counter blankly staring as you visibly struggle. Jeez. Were you the one working customer service or was he? 

"Have- Have a nice rest of your day." Somehow you manage to carry all six bags, three on your left and three on your right as you head towards salvation. Which was better known as the exit of this damn place. 

"You too, ma'am."

Thanks, you mouth to yourself. 

You have a feeling the rest of your day will be anything but nice. 

...