#I'm not going to continue this but i thought it was a cool premise and needed its time. Have fun with it if you want to!

[faeriekit]

The Foster Mother

Now on ao3 and VHS release

There was, supposedly, someone waiting for him in the green sitting room.

“…Why?” Tim asked. Most of the usual suspects had already come by to give their “condolences”—former Drakes Industries investors, curious about the newly orphaned heir; fellow socialites, once again flocking in to give and receive sympathies for their “close friends, the Drakes”; gawkers come to see what they could scavenge off of a dead family’s home, never mind that their child was alive.

“She claims to know you, Master Tim,” Alfred offered, kettle in his hand. He spent a moment deciding between different two canisters of tea; a sign of possibly difficult future conversation. “Her interest in your father's estate seemed quite…minimal.”

…Alright.

Tim was still in his formalwear. Dissolving Drake Industries would take at least another year, and plenty of future hours cementing the future home of certain resources in their dissolution, but the outfit probably was more appropriate for whatever oncoming conversation that was about to ensue than his planned change into Dick’s old hoodie and board shorts.

Okay. Tim steeled himself. The self-determination…mostly worked. Whatever. He trudged up into the green sitting room from the kitchen with his usual introduction ready on his tongue.

And then Tim walked into the room.

And then Jazzy was there.

*

Tim had been three, and Miss Jasmine had been his had been his third nanny. He’d outgrown the wetnurse early on, and his second nanny had been dismissed, so although Miss Jasmine was the third nanny, she was first nanny Tim could consciously remember.

She’d had red hair. She’d been very gentle with him.

She got him up in the morning and put him to bed at night; for the first time, there had been someone who sat with him until he was asleep, reading all sorts of books his parents had left to engage him with as an early genius. Then, when those were over and done as promised to his parents, they got unauthorized books from the library: silly books with made-up words, dinosaur books, books about teddy bears and adventures around the world.

Tim hadn’t been allowed to travel the world. Tim hadn’t been allowed a teddy bear. His parents had thought it would encourage undue attachment.

(It had been the same reason he’d never been given a pacifier.)

Miss Jazz had given him a knitted bunny. She’d said her dad had made it especially for him.

The toy’s name was Bunny and Tim remembered him being very soft.

She didn’t smile all the time, but smiles were rewards that were easy to earn. He finished his meal and she smiled. He finished an educational puzzle and she smiled. He was quiet all through her phone call and she smiled, and answered all his questions once she was done.

Jazzy had been the first person in his life who was there all the time. She’d kissed his forehead after the bath and kissed his scraped knees; she’d carried him in his arms when he was tired and sometimes even when he wasn’t. His parents had wanted him to be independent, proactive, and not clingy, but Jazzy had been someone who he could run to from his bed when he’d had nightmares and someone he could cuddle on her lap with when he’d cried.

She was gone when he was seven. He didn’t remember why. His parents had probably never told him, but still; he'd assumed he'd have found out why eventually.

Jazzy looked the same right now as she looked in Tim’s memories, although she was likely no longer a college student at a nannying gig. Her red hair was pulled into a high bun, her dress modest and conservative from her neck to her ankles. There was a backpack beside her foot. She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, on the high-backed loveseat in the green sitting room.

She looked up when he came in.

Tim. Stopped in his tracks.

It didn’t matter. Jazzy—Miss Jasmine stood up as soon as she saw him, eyes alight with worry. Foggy memories were swimming to the forefront of Tim’s brain. He couldn’t move.

“Tim?” Ja—Miss Jasmine asked, teal eyes raking over his frame. Tim froze where he was. He didn’t move, wide-eyed and terrified for no reason at all when Miss Jasmine got closer to him, at a distance that was more appropriate for a conversation.

She stood there. Watching him. It felt like his mother had just come home from her trips with Dad, and a ghost of old terror wafted through him as he waited for her to decide he’d done something wrong. Her voice got softer. Her eyes got softer. Why was Tim feeling so wrong-footed?? It was only a former staff person!

“Tim?” her voice was so gentle. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m—“

“M’s Jazz,” Tim croaked. Which. Wasn’t the level of formality he’d been going for, but better than Jazzy. He wasn’t a toddler anymore.

Miss Jasmine was so tall—honestly, was she taller than Bruce? She’d seemed insurmountable as a child; he hadn’t expected her height to truly be so statuesque as an adult.

(Or. Well. Almost an adult.)

She didn’t quite kneel down, but she did stoop lower, as if Tim was small and he needed to be on equal footing in order to have a serious conversation.

He could see all her freckles. Tim swallowed. It was too familiar. Everything about her was too familiar.

“You’re so big now,” Jazzy whispered, looking at his hair, his suit, his polished shoes. He didn’t feel it. “Oh, you’ve grown up so well.”

Thanks, Tim almost said. Something stopped him—something thick in his throat, to impassable to break through.

“I—“ he tried. He coughed. “Why…you… You’re here?”

Jazzy threw him an incredulous look, and then an incredibly wry one. “Well,” she drawled a little too primly, in the way that Alfred occasionally made obvious statements, “I’d think it obvious that when one’s parents have passed away, that those who care about you might come to check and see if you’re alright.”

Which. That didn’t make sense. Jazzy hadn’t come back for any other reason; she hadn’t come back for his mother’s funeral, nor when his father was injured publicly by a villain. Why start now?

“And,” Jazz added, seeing his visual confusion and distrust, “Your parents can’t exactly threaten me with a kidnapping charge for visiting you when they’re dead.” Pause. “Which I am sorry about. My condolences.”

Which. Whiplash. What a statement.

“Uh,” said Tim, who was rapidly losing control over the situation.

Jazzy stood again, and went back to her seat; she didn’t set herself down, though, as she only stooped to grab her backpack. “I am sorry for being unable to visit, although I really wanted to; you were at a very vulnerable age and had already moved into a class a year above you, and your parents should have been less hasty about replacing your main caretaker. The assassination attempts were unwarranted, but they did drive the point home that attempting contact was perhaps discouraged.”

“What,” said Tim. “Assassin what.”

“They were ninjas,” Jazzy offered, as if that was an answer. “Except the last one, which was a former marine. The point is that I do care about you, and wanted to ask if you had any idea where you’re going now that your parents are no longer…available guardians.”

Tim’s mouth opened. It closed.

Jazzy waited patiently.

“…How have you been?” Tim tried, resorting to a part of the script they hadn’t gone through yet.

Jazzy’s laugh was tired, but no less real. It was nothing like listening to his parents titter politely; he didn’t think Jazzy would even know how to fake a laugh. “Well, my brother told me that my former bosses had died, which was somewhat stressful. Otherwise, I’m pretty happy: I live with my brother and worked with him for the last few years. I was going to pursue medicine, but…well. The assassination attempts made it hard to interview for scholarships. I suppose that I could return to that now,” Jazzy mused, attention now elsewhere. She pulled the backpack off the floor and up into her grip. She opened it, and flipped through its contents. “How are you doing? I know that Wayne Manor fosters, but your parents were always rather…hands off. I thought the difference in levels of attention might be overwhelming.”

It was. Tim should be surprised how clearly she sees through him—

—But Jazzy used to watch him stim for almost a full hour after school, twisting Bunny’s arms back and forth until he could calm down. Seeing other people all day had been too much for him. Coming home from his parents’ parties had been similarly stressful.

She’d never been mad at him for it. She held him while he talked and stimmed and talked and talked and talked, and brushed his hair sometimes, or if it was very late and he was very young, helped him brush his teeth through all the medieval execution facts he could name.

“It is a lot to get used to,” Tim agreed quietly. He didn’t want to be ungrateful. He didn’t want to let on anyone about his plan to leave.

He had an out. The papers had already been filed; there was an actor waiting to play his uncle for a custody battle, ready for the fight.

Tim was ready to up and go. It was no hardship to leave all the good things here; anything beat making Bruce stick his fingers into Tim any deeper than they already were, compromising the dynamic they’d already established.

It was for the best.

“I can imagine,” Jazzy sympathized easily. “And I wanted to offer—well. I know there’s probably a lot of choices available to you, but my brother and I recently moved back to Gotham proper for the time being. He’s teaching astronomy courses at the university and I’m filing paperwork for Arkham patients. It’s not so privileged a home, but it’s quieter, and more central in town.”

…Tim’s heart skipped.

He. He couldn’t stop staring. Jazzy stared back at him, quiet and sure. Sure of what, Tim had no idea, but…

Why? Why would she want Tim? There was no way she would be able to get to his trust fund without his help, and he for sure knew better than to enable her ability to leech from him. The last time she’d known him, Tim had been a snot-nosed kid who cried all the time and couldn’t be normal for twenty consecutive minutes. His parents couldn’t even stand to be on the same hemisphere as him as a child. What appeal did this have for her?? What could having a teenager with severe baggage living in her house do for her?

And it’s not like there was any chance she knew he was Robin!

“Oh,” Jazzy suddenly interrupted. “I brought these for you, by the way. Your parents had tossed them out at various points; I’ve washed them since, of course.”

She handed him the backpack by the handle.

…Tim peeked inside.

On top was Bunny, still a washed-out faded sort of pink. He looked as fresh as he had the day when Tim’s parents had ”cleaned out” Tim’s nursery—in other words, a faded, a little gray, and slightly discolored from an old spaghetti stain. His button eyes were big and blue.

And beneath him were books that hadn’t passed his father’s muster as appropriately masculine reading material: The Velveteen Rabbit, with the cover a little scarred from a fierce attack of wet wipes. There’s A Monster at the End of This Book, with a goofy-looking Muppet on the cover, gold spine beat up beyond belief. Art Tim’s teacher at the time must have laminated and sent home; Tim’s dorky, crayon cat proved he would never make it as an artist, but attached to it was a photograph of a grinning boy with a bowl cut and a missing tooth.

Tim stared. There’d been purple marker on his hands and face. His grin looked…really bad, actually, like as if he was baring his teeth because he didn’t know how to smile. There was no formal grace there. Nothing to show the neighbors, nothing worth framing to put into the line of sight of the investors in the office.

Jazzy had kept it and brought it home with her. Jazzy had fished it out of the trash, and brought it with her to give back to him in Gotham.

It was crinkled like it’d been folded, over and over again. Further down in the bag was a crumpled certificate dedicated to “Timmy Drake, for: knowing a lot about octopi”, and a baby blanket Tim didn’t even remember. It had rocket ships on it. It looked as if someone had cut into it with scissors, although it had been obviously and brightly mended with red embroidery floss later on.

Jazzy had only been his nanny until Tim was seven. She had simply been gone one night, and Mom and Dad had been home for ten nights after without help before giving in and hiring Mrs. McIlvane and Mrs. Edith. Ms. Edith had never been so…permissive…with Tim as Jazzy had been.

Tim swallowed. He carefully put everything back into the backpack, unsure if he even wanted to keep it or not. It wasn’t like he could leave it here; he’d be gone, ideally, before the week was out. There was no point in taking it with him if he only planned to live with a stranger until he was eighteen.

“J…” Tim tried. He cut himself off before he could get too informal without prompting. “Miss Jasmine—“

“Just Jazz,” Jazzy corrected politely.

“—Why are you here?” Tim asked, ignoring how she’d technically already answered. He didn’t believe her. “What made my parents fire you?”

Jazzy’s expression turned…soft. Tim couldn’t look at her. Something horrible was welling with it, and he didn’t know how to cope.

“I’m here because I care about you,” Jazz repeated, and knelt beside him. She looked up into his face, and took his hand. Tim didn’t know why. He was practically an adult—he didn’t need this!

“And I was fired because your Mother overheard you calling me ‘Mommy’ on accident when you were tired. I suppose she was insulted, although I’d never know why; it’s not like she was ever home to bond with you in the first place.”

Tim’s throat closed. He missed his mom. He missed waiting up for his parents’ flight home, seeing their headlights outside the window, and knowing they’d bring home gifts from overseas. He missed using Mom’s perfume, and knowing he’d used more of the bottle sitting on her dressed than she ever had, but that it still smelled like her. He missed hearing his Dad telling all sorts of adventure stories and promises through the phone to be home for the holidays, even if Tim knew there was every chance he’d find some other way to spend the time back in Gotham.

And there was some small child in him who missed Jazzy, who hugged him and walked him to the library and made him soup from a can instead of fancy dinners and, who’d never needed to be waited for in the first place.

Tim looked at Jazzy’s round, freckled face.

He swallowed.

Tim moved out before the end of the week, as expected.

#dp x dc #Jazz fenton #tim drake #that one time Tim specifically hired a fake uncle so that Bruce couldn't adopt him #free to a good home #Jack Fenton knits btw #I'm not going to continue this but i thought it was a cool premise and needed its time. Have fun with it if you want to! #this is dedicated to all the fulltime nannies at the library who are fully just college girls raising babies #dpxdc #dcxdp #Jazz said is anyone going to raise this baby and was targeted by ninjas for it #I don't have any future plans BUT there is a moment where Dick tries to sneak into her apt to 'check it out' and she fully Gets Him with a #TBI and a Fenton CreepStickTM #also. parents who try to shape their kids by denying them every form of human comfort and access to their interests. You're dead to me #also also also I'm still a Tim Drake Autistic truther #not NOT inspired by the Say Uncle by Megarakles. This one's for you fellow fans #also. if he goes with her. He gets parented for the first time ever and it Sucks Ass lol. #faer fic

[yourmidnightlover]

truth or dare... don't lie

pairing: xavier thorpe x fem!reader

summary: during a game of truth or dare, a secret about reader is revealed that xavier offers to help her out with.

warnings: SMUT LMAO, unprotected PIV, fingering, oral (F receiving), virgin!reader, kinda soft sex tbh, reader loses her v-card bc i'm projecting, kent, bianca, and yoko are kinda mean in this i'm not gonna lie, theres a bit of angst at first but then it gets really smutty and comforting

a/n: THIS IS NOT EDITED! i AM working on a part two to my series, but i have finals this week and can't focus enough to develop the plot how i planned so you're getting this instead to tide you over... wooo! enjoy horn-dogs :)

"it's your turn, y/n!" bianca started giggling as she took another sip of whatever alcoholic mixture she decided to deliver this time.

somehow you, enid, wednesday, ajax, xavier, bianca, kent, and yoko were playing a skewed version of truth or dare in xaviers single room. basically, it was the same premise of you choose a truth or a dare, but if you didn't complete the task or answer the truth then you had to strip. so... strip truth or dare.

it's not like anyone really cared, it was a week before winter break, and everyone had already finished their exams for the semester. luckily you were even able to have thing sneak into the teachers' lounge and bag some extra goodies, which was mostly only alcohol and little debbie snacks.

"what'll it be, y/l/n?" bianca continued to ask you. "truth or dare... or strip?"

you see, there was one MORE issue at hand...

you were down to your dress.

having already taken off your jacket, socks, and even your necklace, you were desperate to remain in the game with your integrity intact, although you were sure most of them wouldn't remember a thing because they had drank so much. except for wednesday, something about making sure enid got back to the dorm safely... blah blah blah.

well, and xavier, but you weren't sure why he wasn't drinking much on his end. maybe he was simply uncomfortable with it, or wanted to be the designated walk-er, helping everyone to their respective dorms. that's part of why you like him so much. he's so sweet and thoughtful, even when people choose to inebriate themselves beyond belief with alcohol. it wouldn't happen, and you know that. but a little schoolgirl crush never hurt anyone, right?

regardless, you needed something easy, so you remained covered and not embarrassed, "truth."

"boring!" enid rang out, hands cupping around her mouth to symbolize a megaphone.

"she is down to just her dress and whatever is underneath," wednesday pointed out with a nod. you turned to see xavier simply looking down at his phone, more than uninterested in the game.

"fine," you sighed. "i choose dare," you said smugly, noticing xaviers eyebrows raise as he made eye contact with you before you abruptly looked the other direction.

"there we go!" bianca clapped as the others cheered with her. "that's what i'm talking about y/n," she put her finger to her chin as if she were in deep thought with a quiet 'hmmm,' "i dare you to sit in xavier's lap for the rest of the game!"

"really?" your surprise was practically impossible to hide. "i don't think he'd be very comfortable with that, b."

"i'm cool with it if you are, y/n/n," he gave you a smile, one that you didn't recognize. it wasn't his 'i'm proud of you smile' or his 'you fucked up again' smile, no. this was a new one. this one seemed darker. mysterious. enticing.

you liked it.

"i-i'm cool with it," and with that, you got up and walked in his direction.

he had been sitting at his desk the whole time, in his comfy little chair. he pat his lap three times before you rolled your eyes at him and sat down on his lap, facing the same way as him. you tried not to put much weight on him, so you opted to sit on the very edge of his knees and let your tiptoes hold most of your weight.

"okay that can't be comfortable," xavier pointed out. "here," he carefully lifted you just enough to maneuver you over his lap, now sideways with your back against one armrest and your feet dangling over the other. "better?"

"mhmm, thanks," you smiled as you clasped your hands in your lap, one of xavier's arms still wrapped around your waist comfortably. it felt nice, like it belonged there.

from there on the game got a bit more... risqué. now there were kisses dared on cheeks, first time stories being drawn out, and so much more.

"xavier," ajax pointed at him, slurring his words with a big grin decorating his face. "truth or dare!"

"hmm..." he acted deep in thought. "dare."

"i dare you..." he clearly hadn't thought that far in advance, which is when enid leaned over and whispered something you couldn't make out to him. "oh that's good!," ajax whisper yelled, not being able to properly sense his own volume. "i dare you, xavier, to kiss y/n on the neck until your next turn!"

you turned to face him, your lips pressed into a thin line, praying that he couldn't see the rosy red blush that was surely adorning your cheeks by now.

"are you okay with that?" he asked, whispering in your ear so the others couldn't hear. once he got your quiet, but detectable 'mhmm,' he accepted the dare. "alright," with that, he got to work.

he pressed a feather-light kiss to your neck at first, and you thought you would be fine if this is what he would be doing the entire time. that was, until he began to press slightly open-mouthed kisses to your neck, occasionally gently nipping the area before soothing over it with his tongue.

there was no doubt in your mind that he could tell your heartbeat was racing. between feeling his hair brushing on the sensitive skin, and his tongue soothing his love-bites, you were about to explode. your hips were practically moving on their own at this point, trying to get whatever friction you could.

"hey," you felt xavier's hands grab your hips firmly. "if you don't stop moving your hips like that there's gonna be a mess between us that i really don't wanna clean up."

"what do you-" he shifted your hips up a bit more, hitting something a bit harder than his thighs were. "oh-is-is that...?"

"yea," he got closer to your ear, beginning to suck on the lobe and continuing his ministrations.

"in the school bathroom!" bianca rang out, laughing at whatever story kent was telling this time.

"i think it's y/n's turn again," kent diverted everyone's attention to you, so you tried to ignore xavier sucking on your neck like a leech, albeit a really hot one, to get through this.

"oh, and it's my turn," yoko cheered. "truth or dare, y/n?"

you really didn't think you'd be able to survive whatever dare they would throw your way, not in the slightest, which is why you chose: "truth."

"alright," yoko looked towards bianca and kent before asking, "what was your first time like?"

ajax might as well have ripped his beenie off then and there because you froze. you hadn't done it. you haven't gotten past giving a guy a handjob, let alone sex.

you didn't know how long you were quiet for, but you did notice when xavier stopped his kissing. you could practically feel his stare right on your face. you wanted it to go away. you wanted to disappear. it was humiliating, really. at least you thought it was until...

"you haven't, have you?" kent chuckled as bianca stifled a laugh.

"are you serious?" yoko asked incredulously. "well, i guess it makes sense to me," she shrugged as you tore yourself off of xavier's body, having to pry his hand away from your waist.

"hey," he held onto your hand softly and looked at you with what you thought to be puppy-dog eyes, you didn't have the best view due to the tears blocking your eyes.

"just..." you sighed as you took your hand out of his and ran out of his room, dorm, and the building as a whole. you just wanted to walk around, feel comfortable. then it hit you that there was always one place where you felt comfortable.

after around 15 minutes of walking around to clear your head, you got to xavier's paint shed. you had gone there nearly every time you needed help with homework, needed some advice, or if you simply missed him. it's amazing that even though he wasn't there, you could still smell his presence, the mahogany and woods scent that felt like home to you now.

you had made several forts in the place before, having secret sleepovers with each other countless times just because you wanted to. so, you brought out the mattress that was set up against the wall, put the fitted sheet on it and set up the bed as usual before plopping down on it.

you didn't even want to cry anymore. you just wanted to disappear. you felt like such a loser. i mean, why is that such a big deal anyway? it's just sex. but then again, if it's 'just sex' then why haven't you just done it?

"y/n/n?" xaviers voice called out as he knocked on the door of the shed. "look, i know you're in there. just wanted you to know that i kicked everyone out, okay?" you stayed quiet. "y/n," he sighed. "you know that just because you haven't... yknow, doesn't mean anything right? what yoko was saying... she doesn't make sense. because anyone would be so lucky to have you. you're unbelievably kind, and generous, witty, hilarious... and beautiful. you're beautiful, y/n. please just let me in? i wanna talk to your face, not some door."

you sniffled with a laugh, "it's been unlocked the whole time, idiot."

"hey, now," he called as he walked through the door, ducking down a little as to not hit his head on the low hanging fixtures. "why'd you run like that?" he as beside you on the bed, placing your long-forgotten items of clothing on one of the tables.

"why wouldn't i?" you turned the question on him. "i was humiliated," you began to pick at your nails. "i mean, you saw what happened. i was already flustered because you were kissing my neck and then i felt your boner because i couldn't just sit fucking still, which was embarrassing enough, but then the guy i like finds out i'm a virgin too! it was just too much. and then they were laughing at me and.... yea," you took a deep breath once you were done rambling.

"the guy you like?"

"you can't tell me you still don't know," you rolled your eyes once more before xavier grabbed onto your hands to stop you from picking at them like he normally does. "you. you know. it's you."

he didn't even say anything. it wasn't until you mustered up the courage to look at him that you saw a smile gracing his face.

"then you should know why ajax and enid dared me to do that to you in the first place," xavier scooted closer to you on the bed. placing one of his hands on your thigh. "i told them a couple weeks ago that i was starting to really, really like you-as more than friends. they went crazy, telling me you felt the same and everything, but i couldn't believe it. i mean, you're just... you're everything, y'know?

"i meant everything i said when i was outside. you're so sweet, and smart, and god, it takes everything in me not to kiss you when you look at me. because when you look at me, you really see me," xavier finished.

"kiss me," you told him in a soft tone.

"what?" his brows furrowed before you, with a shocking wave of confidence, swung one leg over his lap, now facing him and straddling his lap. his hands went to your waist

"i said kiss me," you leaned in closer to him. "please."

it didn't take anything else for him to bring one hand up to cup your face before finally connecting your lips. it wasn't like fireworks went off, or cannons bursted. it was more like a sense of belonging, welcomeness, and home. your lips had been craving him for so long, it was a sweet, cold treat in the summer as your tongues began to glide with one another.

once again, your hips couldn't contain themselves as they began to rock back and forth on his lap, this time successfully getting the desired friction exactly where you wanted it. you sighed into his mouth, your hands dragging through his hair as he began to nurse the same neck he was kissing nearly 45 minutes ago.

"i thought that would be the only time i'd have you to myself," xavier droned on. "i might've gone a bit overboard..." he laughed as he traced circles on your neck.

"what...?" you backed away from him before he picked up his phone, showing you with the selfie side of the camera how he had littered your neck with deep hickeys. "xavier!" you playfully shoved his shoulder.

"you better get used to it," he shrugged with a sly grin. "i can be territorial at times."

"god, as if you couldn't get any hotter," you began to peel off your dress, reaching for the hem before xavier swatted your hands away.

"let me," he ordered, you listened immediately, retracting your hands and placing them on his shoulders as he helped you rid yourself of your dress. "i don't even understand why you wore this since it's freezing outside."

"hmm," you mockingly acted like you were thinking. "well, when the guy i like is going to be in a place with booze, there might be certain possibilities and i wanted to look nice."

"you look better than nice," he pressed your lips together once more. "i was hard long before you even sat on my lap, y/n/n."

"please fuck me?" your voice was soft and whiny. "please? i want you, i just need you to-to y'know... please, xay?"

"you sound so pretty when you beg for me," he let his hand trace your neck before he buried his hand in your hair, gently tugging it back before admiring you in your nearly naked state.

"xay, please?" you were holding onto the hem of his t-shirt, nearly stretching it out with your begging.

"okay, love," he chuckled before swiftly tossing his shirt over his head, letting it land somewhere he wasn't concerned with. "now we're a bit more even, yea?"

"i just... i need you..." you were a squirming mess in his lap, to think an hour and a half ago you were pleading with yourself to keep your dignity and now you were begging for xavier...

"what do you need from me?" he teased, letting one of his hands trail down your front, hovering over your center. "i need to hear you say it for me. tell me."

"i need you," you sighed as you buried your head in his neck. "i need you to make me... make me cum?"

he chuckled maniacally, "is that a question? i thought i told you to tell me what you want?"

"please just make me cum xavier!" your frustration showed as you began to lazily press kisses to his neck. "please?"

he swiftly turned over so you were laying on the pillow at the top of the bed, him hovering over you with his hair falling to your face. he began pressing kisses down your body, gently squeezing your breasts and sucking on your nipples. eventually, after a few minutes of teasing, he reached your center. he moved your panties down your legs and began pressing kisses to your thighs, alternating between each one.

"has anyone ever done this for you before?" you shook your head 'no.' "is it alright if i do?"

"anything, xay, anything, please," you nodded as your hands tangled into his hair.

he pressed gentle kisses around your clit before licking one line through your slit, lapping up your juices like a man starved. you heard him moan into your pussy, the vibrations shooting through your core shocking you more than you thought possible. you reactively tugged on his hair, tossing your head back as he continued, now sucking gently, very softly, on your clit.

"oh my fuck," you breathed out, looking down at xavier to find his eyes fixated on you and your reaction. "god, you look so pretty, xay."

you felt him smile against your pussy, not letting himself get distracted by little compliments that he was sure melted his heart completely. one of his hands was gripping your thigh so hard you were sure there would be marks the next morning, the other hand was placed on your lower stomach, pressing down just slightly. he used the hand that was rasping your thigh and gently pushed a single finger in.

your mouth formed in an 'o' shape at the intrusion. his fingers were much longer than your own, and when he curled it inside of you, you swore you could see stars in his eyes as he continued to suck and kiss your clit. he gently thrusted his finger in and out a few times before adding a second finger.

"please don't stop," you were gripping his hair so tight you were surprised it hadn't ripped out. "'m so close, xay."

he stopped sucking your clit momentarily to say: "be sure to look at me when you cum."

you nodded dumbly as he got back to work, and it wasn't long until you were at that edge that no other man has ever been successful in bringing you to. at first you threw your head back before you remembered what you had promised him. with a few more thrusts of his fingers, you saw the look of pride on his face when he felt you squeezing his fingers in a vice grip, your mouth dropped open completely as pornographic moans left your mouth.

"fuck, yes, xavier!" you ground against his mouth as he worked you down from your high. "holy shit," your chest was heaving as he kissed his way back up your body.

he hovered over you as he sucked on the same two fingers that were just inside you, groaning, "did i tell you how amazing you taste?"

"will you fuck me now?" you reached down between the two of you to palm him through his sweatpants. "i really, really want you."

"i don't want you to just want to do this because you want to get it over with," you could sense the sincerity in his tone. "i want this to be more than just a hookup."

"it's not, xavier," you cupped his face with one hand. "i assure you, it's not," you smiled as he pressed your foreheads together. "you mean so much more to me than just one amazing night, xay."

"are you sure you want to do this?"

"yes."

"wait, i don't have anything..." xavier hinted with a worried look on his face.

"well, i'm obviously clean, and i've been on the pill since the eighth grade," you shrugged. "if you want..."

"really?" his eyes widened at the thought, you nodded. "i've never... shit. this'll be a new experience for the both of us."

after a bit of shuffling, xavier lined himself up at your entrance, looking at you one more time for confirmation. as he entered you, it was like the wind was knocked out of you. your arms wrapped around his neck as he continued to push himself into you. at a certain point, you thought it was never-ending.

"god, you're so tight," he breathed into your neck, pressing a kiss to one of your hickeys as he continued.

your head was thrown back as he finally bottomed out in you, one of your arms wrapped around his waist while the other was around his neck with your hand buried in his hair.

"so deep," you closed your eyes at the sensation. "'s like you're in my stomach, holy fuck."

he pressed down on that same spot he had earlier, very gentle, but you felt it so, so much. "is that where?" you nodded fervently.

"please move, xay, please," your hand was practically clawing at his back.

"i'm gonna go slow, okay?" you nodded at his words. "if you change your mind about anything at all, say the word and i'll stop, alright?"

"okay," you agreed with a smile as he slowly pulled back out before reentering at the exact same pace.

with each thrust, his pace increased. your moans' volume increased too. it was as if each whimper, moan, and plea was simply egging him on and bringing him to the end of that wonderful precipice of pleasure.

"you look fucking perfect," his own groans and huffs of pleasure rang out. "such pretty tits," he messily grabbed one of them. when he brought his hand down to play with your clit, you knew you weren't going to last much longer. "and such a pretty pussy for me. all mine, y/n/n. all mine."

"god, it's-i'm..." you were cut off by a guttural moan. "i need to cum. i'm gonna cum! xavier, please don't stop! please!"

"where do you want it?"

"inside, please!" you huffed out, clawing at his back as you whimpered in his ear. "need it so bad."

"say you're mine," he ordered. you could feel his dick pulsing inside of you.

"i'm-oh god," you cried out once more, tears forming at your lash line. "i'm yours! i've always been yours, xay, please! fuck!" for the second time, xavier was able to bring you off that cliff, this time he followed suit.

"so fucking pretty when you cum," xavier added before with a few more thrusts, his thick cum coated your walls. "oh fuck."

"oh my god," you sighed out as xavier slumped against your body, laying completely on top of you.

"you got that right," you could feel his smile against your shoulder before he began to press kisses against your warm skin. "here," he reluctantly got up from his position after carefully pulling out of you, tucking himself back into his sweats, and reached for one of his recently cleaned towels (he had a rotation for them, alright?). he began to wipe up your thighs, being very gentle at your center.

"xavier?" you called before he laid back down.

"yea?" he looked at your worriedly before you smiled, simply asking: "can i wear your shirt to sleep?"

a bright smile made its way to his face, "of course, yea," he helped you poke your arms and head through the shirt before he stepped back, admiring you in it. "i almost like this on you more than nothing on you. almost."

"xavier!" you called before shoving him to the side. "you perv."

"you like this 'perv,' as you call it," he rolled his eyes as he began to cuddle with you on the mattress.

"i wanna lay on you," you tried to get onto your knees to maneuver your way on top before he had to catch your arm.

"let me help you a bit," he tried to hide his smug smile while he rolled the two of you over.

"i'm never gonna live this down," you shook your head as he raked his fingers through your hair.

"nope," you laid in the most comfortable silence for a few minutes before he spoke again: "y/n?"

"mhmm?"

"i might've lied earlier when i said that i told ajax and enid that i liked you," you could sense a bit of restriction in his tone.

"what do you mean?" you held your breath.

"i told them the truth," he pressed a kiss to your forehead, getting your attention so you were looking in his eyes. "that i'm in love with you."

#xavier thorpe fic #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier thorpe smut #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe angst #xavier thorpe oneshot #xavier thorpe blurb #xavier thorpe wednesday #wednesday netflix

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME (PLEASE DON'T FALL) ❞

Gojo Satoru x male!reader | Nanami Kento x male!reader | arranged marriage, angst no comfort (serious) | sub. bttm. reader (AMAB) | wc: 23K | not proofread

warnings: hint/implied SH through passive means (no descriptions), loss of virginity, blowjobs, handjobs, anal fingering, anal sex, major character death, graphic descriptions of violence, yn's low-key going insane masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's

authors note: this is going to have an open-ended ending so you can let your imaginations run wild. also, I'm sorry it took so long to publish this but I hope it satisfies you! also also - i truly apologize for how frantic the shibuya arc is as I'm an anime watcher so (T T) they'll be no continuation of this fic but there'll be a one-shot fic of nanami kento x reader having some sweet moments just for the heck of it along with a short fic of gojo and yn's wedding day...maybe.

“This is nice,” he murmurs. Uncaring of the water trickling into the shape of his leather shoes or how it makes his clothes cling onto him like a heavier second skin. It’s cooling, feeling like relief that was manifested into a palpable form. Pulsing, moving, pushing, and pulling as the shadows undulated. Sunlight dances on the ocean, piercing through the waters to reach as far down as it can.

Your arms around him make him grin. He reaches to hold you, the rarest of treasures appearing on his face as he feels your lips press onto his left cheek. 

He holds your flesh with a gentle squeeze. The weight of you on his back is like a comforting blanket draped over him; he kisses the delicate muscles and marks you have. You burrow your face into his neck, he closes his eyes and chuckles. "I'm sorry, my love."

“You’re going to make me late.”

It grins wide and proud at the sight of your disgruntled face. The cursed spirit was as ugly as a piece of dogshit on the street. Smelled like it too. It was a semi-special grade that had popped up in an abandoned hospital. It was the subject of a bountiful amount of paranormal fans, which meant a handful of people and teenagers had disappeared after entering its premises.

Ah, didn’t I go on a mission like this once? You thought to yourself.

“Or was it Utahime’s mission?” you muttered.

She — the curse — opens her split mouth to screech. Her white hair flies behind her as she furiously charges towards you. The corners of your mouth twist in disgust. What a wretched being. Her hands were bound behind her back as she was in a straight jacket. So far, her attacks had been long-distance but the ones that truly hurt were when she got close enough to sink her teeth in.

The chunk of missing flesh on your hand was proof of that. It was covered by your tie but those blackened veins were a clear sign of trouble if you didn’t exorcise her.

“Yeah, yeah. Come and get it, bitch.” Tucking in your chin while taking a quick breath as her horrendous form gets closer, you feel the familiar rush of energy flowing through you. She was running like a bat out of hell. Her chin probably would’ve been shaved off if she bent any lower — her disgusting mouth was slobbering all over as she unhinged her jaw. She lunges and you release a breath. With your outstretched hand, palm facing up, you press the sides of your pointer and middle finger together. The curse screams, her teeth now a hair away from biting the tips of your finger off.

“Divine Flame.”

The birds seem to freeze midflight and the ants appear static; even the clouds above the building had been glued in place. She sees your lips split into a grin, a puff of air that mocks hers as she struggles to breathe. The curse drags her ruby-red eyes to the spark of black that ignites on your fingertips. "Gods Blade."

A second ago, she was so close to taking your wretched hand off and leaving it a bloody stump. Her stomach wants nothing more than to savour the flesh of a sorcerer and hear him scream in agony as she triumphs in the fight. The memory of it, the bright flash of white that burned her skin off her flesh. She can still taste it in her mouth, she can feel the phantom pain of it slicing the back of her throat. Everything tasted like smoke and blood. As you kick her head, she tumbles until she is gazing up at the sky.

The sky?

What happened to the roof?

The sight of her shaking pupils made you scoff. The building was torn down. Sliced cleanly in half according to the angle of your fingers; everything your technique made contact with was bright orange, smoking, and singing. Cement crumbles into ash, and metal turns to oozing and bubbling liquid.

“Shit. I haven’t used that move in a while. I’m sorry, I’m in a rush, okay? I think I went overboard.” Thankfully, Kiyotaka had raised a veil or else you’d never hear the end of it. The building shudders with each step you take. She watches as you crouch next to her, grabbing a fistful of her white hair and bringing her eyes level with yours.

“Not that you don’t deserve it. You glutton. 14 people in three weeks? You brought this on yourself.”

Her eyes fill with tears as she feels your palm warm and warm and then it burns. Her screams were like nails on a chalkboard but you bore through it. Staring into the black flames that consume her you ponder about your agenda; those spikes of fury remind you of Megumi’s gravity-defying hair.

“You’re really shitty, you know that right?” she’s down to her bones now and it’s slowly piling up into a mountain of ash. Still, she finds it in herself to scream. “Your crappy domain was creepy. It’s been a while since I’ve been back in Japan. I’m just settling in. You were supposed to be a simple mission. Now you fucked up my hand and I’m covered in soot.”

Suguru would surely laugh at you. He often did when you were muttering to dying curses. It was a habit you formed, wanting to annoy them to the very end about your minuscule grievances. They weren’t to you but the curse spirits probably felt like tearing your head off as they died.

“(Y/N), you’re really unique, huh?” Suguru leaned against the red-bricked wall with his arms stuffed in his pockets. Shoko watched impassively by his side, holding a plastic bag filled with burn relief gel. It’s not as though your flames burn you. The heat they produce stung your skin. You suppose you’ve built endurance to it but you appreciate your friends pampering you; your clan was ruthless in fine-tuning your abilities, and there was no such thing as pain-relief creams or gels.

The (L/N) weren’t like the Major 3 of Japan. They were considered to be imitations. Mocked for their gaudy technique names and overzealous attack styles but weak bodies. In order to chase after the huge power gap, your clan brought the children to their knees. Grinding them forcefully on whetstones; until they either become sharp-edged or they break.

As the son of the head of your clan, breaking was not an option.

Luckily for them, you were blessed with a powerful curse technique. Unluckily for you, you were blessed with a powerful curse technique.

Your pout makes him smile. “Calling me unique feels like an insult, Su-Su,” you turn your attention toward the husk of a curse. He was pinned to the wall with one of Suguru’s spear-wielding curses as he was being toasted by your curse technique.

“I’m just trying to make them pass on easily.”

The curse warbles its disapproval as he shakes his head, its skin flaking and smoking. Shoko crouches beside you, unboxing the gel after you spread your fingers and exorcise it.

“I think it might’ve cursed you instead,” Satoru appears with canned drinks. He presses it tenderly to your warm cheeks as Shoko tends to your hands. “Here, you did most of the work today,” he thinks nothing of how flushed you seem and simply shrugs it off when you avert your gaze. Satoru ruffles your head, which erases the blush into nothing but annoyance,

“Man, can you believe we’ll be second-years soon? We’ll have juniors to bully,” Satoru says with too much glee. Suguru knocks the back of his knees with his own and Shoko and you barely muffle your laughter.

Kiyotaka smiles warmly as he spots you. It falls as his veil disappears to reveal the ruined building.

“Mr. Gojo…” Kiyotaka gasps with his hands curled to his chest. He must be pissed, Kiyotaka thinks as he glances your way. “Mr. Gojo!” you lift a hand to stop him from fretting over your bleeding hand, unknowingly showing him your fingertips.

“You used — “

“Principal Yaga won’t appreciate my tardiness, Kiyotaka.” The tie around your gaping wound unravels and he rushes to open the car door for you. “Ms. Ieiri will tend to me just fine, I’m not going to die. Oh, and please just call me (Y/N), Kiyotaka. Honestly, we’ve known each other for so long, I feel bad if you kept calling me using honorifics.”

How can he be married to Satoru? He thought as he nodded at your words. Half the time he’s expecting to be beaten up by Satoru, the way he speaks sometimes is as if he is deaf to how crass it is. As he rushes to get into the driver's seat, you try your best to tend to the soot and ash on your fingertips.

Kiyotaka watches you from the mirror. What worries him is the missing chunk from your left hand. The irritated edges and bulging veins weren’t easing his worries either. “Mr. Gojo,” you lift your head with a polite grin. Kiyotaka unconsciously returns it.

“Your husband left some burn relief gel at the back of the driver's seat,” he says. It leaves you stunned. He says nothing as your cool expression turns bashful. He was glad to see you find relief despite your twitching wound.

“I’ll drive you there as fast as I can, Mr — “

“Kiyotaka,” you huff.

“M-Mr — Mr. (Y/N).”

It’s strange what a familiar sight can do. Seeing the peeks of the sloped rooftops made your palms clammy. This was a form of torture and of that you are certain.

With every step taken to climb towards your destination, the wind carries forgotten voices and laughter. This school was a picture you kept in a box under your bed; meant to collect dust and only seep out through the cracks in the forms of nostalgia. Seeing it materialize the closer you get makes your throat tighten. The tree branches dance in the wind and sunlight falls into step. This would be scenic in any other circumstance.

You had no one to blame but yourself. Satoru may have pestered you to agree but he didn’t force your hand; you caved in all by yourself.

‘ Get a grip, ‘ you scolded yourself. This was doable. The anxiety that’s coursing through your veins does not compare to everything you’ve already been through. First-day jitters are all it is. Megumi will be there with his friends, Yuuji and Nobara.

Along with them, Satoru’s other students would meet you again!

They were all great kids (and an amazing panda). You’ve only ever seen them in passing, sometimes Satoru would’ve asked for you to meet him whilst his students were already there. They were a memorable bunch. Meeting with a cast-aside Ze’nin daughter had shocked you. It was no surprise she narrowed her eyes at you.

It was fair. The elitist nature of the major clans of the sorcery world was hard to escape and unlearn. Satoru could escape unscathed due to his curse techniques, spoiled by everyone and entrusted as head of the Gojo clan the second he was deemed worthy enough. But for Maki? She had to steel herself when your eyes landed on her. Especially because you were dressed in traditional attire, the silk of your clothes decorated with the sigil of your clan and Gojo's (your half-sibling had just been born, so you wore it to celebrate her first birthday).

You simply offered a downward gaze and nodded as a greeting. Flashing her a quick show of teeth that you showed to Toge and Panda as well.

“Mr (Y/N), are you okay?” Kiyotaka’s hands hover over your shoulder. You’ve half a mind to swat them away. He means well but at the moment you need someone whose heart isn’t racing louder than yours. It doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. You weren’t going to die, Kiyotaka just needed to get that memo.

“I’m well. Let’s just hurry before — “

“(Y/N)?” Satoru's presence causes Kiyotaka to stiffen up like a board. His footsteps approach you from behind. You prepare for the questions he's bound to ask. He doesn't say much, simply does a once-over on you, then focuses on the bloody bandages around your hand. An attempt to hide it behind you was made though he’s already reaching to pull it into the light.

“Satoru, it’s fine. Shoko can fix it up, I’m already late. Principal Yaga is going to have my head.” Satoru reluctantly lets your wrists fall. “You’ve got 25 minutes before the meeting actually starts. I built a reputation for being 7 minutes late for a reason. Why doesn’t anyone else abuse it?”

The twitch of your brow makes him grin. Satoru greets Kiyotaka with a nod and he promptly greets the couple a goodbye.

Satoru stays. It seemed as though Satoru was following along on your impromptu trip to Shoko’s.

“He’s excited to see you, even though he won’t say it,” he turns his head in your direction. “He sure is attached to you. All he ever does is be snarky to me. How come I’m getting all the teen angst?” he makes you guffaw.

“Can you blame him, Satoru?” you snort. “Megumi is pretty guarded after what his step-mom and his father did. I don’t blame you for taking on so many missions either but I did end up staying home more often compared to you. Besides, you’re love language of gift-giving looks more like buying love sometimes.” Satoru’s jaw goes slack and his brows pinch into that annoying expression.

“You’re saying I’m like a rich benefactor rather than a parent?”

“More like a gay uncle who likes giving expensive gifts,” you grunt as he tugs on the lobes of your ears. He’s not that offended by your words, it’s not as though you’re denying that he cares for Tsumiki and Megumi. Simply stating that they still hadn’t bridged the gap. Partly due to his frequent goings and partly due to Megumi’s abandonment issues.

It must sting to know your father sold you to a family who only cared about your abilities. It’s no wonder he keeps his walls high. You’re excited to see his friends climbing it, hoping his fortune is as bountiful as his name.

“Must you be so blunt, husband?” Satoru opens the door for you, eyeing the stains on your shirt. "I heard it was a semi-special grade," you shudder at the reminder, "did she cause you so much trouble? It's been a while since you've used God's Blade."

The fluorescent lights of Shoko's don't help your nerves. The theme of today seems to be revisiting memories. The chill in the building does not ease you in the slightest. It reminds you of the same eerie hallway you'd be escorted to, the sickening green-blue lines of light that light the path would make your palms clammy every time. Those five men were akin to statues as they held onto the thickly bound rope plastered with talismans.

"She couldn't talk just yet but managed to create a weak domain. I don't know why. I wasn't expecting it. It was so unsettling."

Satoru wraps an arm around your shoulders, stroking your shoulder as he steers you through the hallway. He knows you don't like long hallways with cold lights. Satoru doesn't ask the why's or what's. Those rigid lunches and dinners with your father and stepmother are all he needed.

Shoko's eyebrows jump at the sight of the both of you walking in.

"Hello, lovebirds," she stands from her chair, "d'you guys need some condoms or something?" The joke earns her an unamused expression while Satoru just chuckles.

"My dearest husband was injured in battle."

Your exclamations of protest fall on deaf ears as Satoru forces you to sit at Shoko’s check-up station. She idles over, pushing Satoru away with a gloved hand. Her touches are careful and light as she takes a close look at the wound.

Then, she grasps your other hand and you can’t help the gentle smile that graces your face as she tuts at the sensitive skin. “You’re here to meet the Principal, right? This won’t take long. You owe me dinner.”

“Yes, Ms Ieiri,” you coo. It was an odd sensation, to feel your flesh regrow, veins stitching together as muscles intertwine. Meanwhile, Satoru is moving around in her office, sticking his head in cabinets and drawers while you wash your hands. Shoko does nothing to stop your meddling husband.

“Found it!” Just as you turn, Satoru’s face looms over yours. Your gasp is choked on the lollipop he puts in your mouth. Shoko’s stethoscope is looped around his neck and her spare doctor's coat makes him look absolutely ridiculous.

"A treat for being such a good boy at the doctor's office today!"

“Those might be expired, by the way,” Shoko says. “‘Toru!” he giggles unabashedly, avoiding your wrath with glee.

“Mr. Gojo is married!?”

Megumi regrets ever saying it in the first place. Nobara and Yuji are staring at him with wide eyes, practically sparkling with curiosity.

“Did you guys not see the ring on his finger?” The chair creaks as he leans back, crossing his arms as they place their elbows on his desk. “Now that you mentioned it, I have noticed it. I didn’t think he was married,” Nobara tilts her head. “I mean, I guess he is pretty good husband material,” Yuji says. “He’s strong, handsome, and he’s generous too!”

“The lip balm he wears is expensive too,” Nobara nods as she speaks. “It’s not that expensive,” Megumi mumbled though the two simply ignored him. He was on another financial level. His standard of ‘expensive’ had been skewered.

“He just doesn’t seem like he has a wife. How does she put up with his childish attitude?”

Footsteps come from the hallway. Megumi says nothing as Nobara and Yuji press their faces to the indoor windows, trying to steal glances. His heart picks up its pace as he clasps his hands together. He kept his guard up for a reason. He expects disappointment so he can never feel that fear of abandonment — a childish wish. Your trips overseas were something he didn’t think would make him fearful again, so he iced them out the best he could. But now that you were back, he felt entirely too excited.

“Shh! Itadori, shut up! Let me sit here!”

They wrestle for the chair closest to the door. The ridiculousness of it has Megumi hiding his smile behind his palm, rolling his eyes fondly. Nobara wins and Megumi buries the feeling of excitement that Yuji is sitting close.

The doors rattle open to reveal Satoru. The silence that greets him disturbs him enough to hesitate to take a step inside. Instead, he stretches his neck and lets his head jump from one student's face to the other.

“Is this some sort of ambush? Why are your faces so intense?”

“Mr Gojo!” Yuji exclaims (he doesn’t need to). Raising from his seat, Yuji plants his palms on his desk and speaks: “Is it true that you’re married and that your spouse is going to be teaching us?”

Satoru beams, one long leg crossing over the threshold. Megumi spots a flash of (H/C) coloured hair and no matter what he does he can’t stop his heart from squeezing in anticipation.

“A guy like me? Of course, I’m married!” Satoru wiggles his fingers in the air. The ring is a simple silver band with a beautiful gem held preciously by silver roots. It was personal, something that would twinkle under the light but remain bashful in any other setting; it didn’t make it any less beautiful or inexpensive.

Nobara stands next. “What is she like? How does she put up with you? Is she cool?”

Soft laughter floats inside. Megumi’s shoulders hug his neck as you walk into the room. You were dressed in a nearly identical faculty uniform to Satoru’s though there were little adjustments and accessories here and there that made it more your own.

“They’ve been your student for less than a week, and they already wonder how your spouse puts up with you, husband,” your eyes meet Megumi’s and turn warmer. Nobara and Yuji gasp, eyes going comically wide as they stare at you.

“They’re overexaggerating. I’m an amazing teacher.” Electing to ignore your pouting husband, you address the first-year students with your hands politely folded in front of you.

‘ Ah, always so proper, ‘ Satoru thinks. It’s probably where Megumi’s manners got reinforced because it sure as hell wasn’t from Satoru. You really were a marvel. How lucky would anyone be to be yours? An idea popped into his marvellous brain. Satoru suppresses his urge to rub his hands together schemingly though hopes Nanami won't mind that he meddles a bit with his mission.

“My name is Gojo (Y/N), it’s nice to finally meet all of you. Mr Gojo has told me what promise all of you show.”

Yuji doesn’t pretend not to notice the way your eyes linger on him. He stiffens up, jaw locking as he feels his tongue spasm. Your eyes — the colour of it seemed to sway, like a flame dancing in the dark. It was spine-chilling.

To stand next to Gojo Satoru, to be his husband — to be his equal. Yuji imagines you must be strong. He wonders what your curse technique is. He is not the only one wondering. Deep in the recesses of his soul, four eyes split open and illuminate the darkness.

“We were thinking of taking all three of you on a field trip around Tokyo!” Satoru says with glee.

“It better not be like yesterday’s trip to Roppongi,” Nobara mutters. You glance towards Satoru, brow raised in question while he laughs innocently at Nobara’s accusing glare.

Megumi takes note of the smell of ash, and cobalt gaze immediately dropping to your folded hands and narrowing as he notices how irritated your fingertips look.

“You’ll enjoy this trip, trust me. Everyone can show off their skills to Mr Gojo, even Megumi,” Satoru said. Megumi's cheeks burned at the callout despite that, he was excited. He learned a lot in those 4-months and he has much to show you. Nobara snickers at his annoyed expression but catches Yuji’s lack of response. Satoru did as well though since there were no marks or mouths sprouting on his face he elected to wave it off as him being stunned by you.

For being a man? Surely, not. Perhaps for your handsomeness? That seems very likely.

It wasn’t as though he was sullen, just tight-lipped as he smiled and guffawed at the ongoing conversation.

“You may call me Mr (Y/N). It might be confusing for everyone if you both refer to us with our surnames." Satoru pretends not to grimace at the lame excuse. It was not for their sake. It was for yours and his. In 8 months, you would no longer bear the heavy weight of his name, placing it on a mantle of your victories and regrets.

“Gojo?” Kento’s voice causes you to jump. He felt bad for disturbing you from your reading, you looked so peaceful. It's been a while since he's found time to sit down and digest the words of a book. The mountain of unread literature in his home begs for a crumb of his attention — they remain untouched until he's sure he won't die without reading the final chapter. That would truly be a nuisance. The cafe had the smell of fresh paint quickly being overshadowed by freshly baked pastries and brewed coffee.

Kento apologizes for startling you. An apology you wave off, setting your book down after slipping the bookmark between the yellowing pages. The spine of it was cracked and the front of it slightly warped despite the plastic cover it was wrapped in. "A good read?"

“It was my mother’s favourite book,” you trace the title on the cover, sheepishly grinning. “She left some of her books in my possession after her passing. It got banged up after a mission with a curse in America, some alligator curse.” “What is it about?” His voice was so deep. Had it always been that deep? Admittedly, you’d only had the pleasure to see Kento again during Suguru’s proclamation of war. At that moment, you weren’t ogling him or relishing in the baritones of his voice. He’d grown up to be a handsome man. Those high cheekbones and strong eyes finally settled on his face. Despite the coat he wore, you could tell his body was chiseled and firm. Muscles stacked on muscles. He’d always been studios — his technique did require a more hand-to-hand approach. It didn’t surprise you. Most active sorcerers tend to train their bodies in order to survive strenuous missions.

As students, you recalled having sparred with him a few times. It didn't surprise you he became a Grade 1 sorcerer. With his flexible ability and his sharp wit, Kento was a force to be reckoned with then, you cannot imagine what he's capable of now. “It’s a bit dark,” you turned the cover to him, “it’s about a woman whose sister and old friend from school died. They were murdered. We follow her through her memories of them and her emotions. It’s quite interesting if you have the stomach for it,” he takes the book as you slip it into his hands.

Your fingers brushed and your ears warmed up.

‘ Ah, stop it. Stop it! You are (Y/N), a powerful sorcerer. Stop acting like a schoolgirl! ‘ “It was inspired by a murder in 1997.” Kento reads the synopsis on the back, his eyes drinking in every syllable. You wonder if his gaze is always so intense. Do they soften when he leans in to kiss? Thankfully, the book distracts him from your aggressive sipping of your drink. "Is the protagonist compelling?" After all, what's more horrid than a boring storyteller. Kento has consumed his fair share of bland-tasting media. It was just how life is, he supposes. Still. It didn't mean he was any less disappointed.

He flips through the first few pages. His touch was featherlight as he traced the edge of the pages. "She's angry," you reply after a moment of contemplation. "She is...unapologetically resentful, overly judgemental. But, for some reason. It's almost relieving to read," he watches you scratch the back of your neck as if admitting it out loud made you a bad person. “I’ll have to keep an eye out for it in bookstores. This looks intriguing.” Kento hands the novel back to you. You’re only a little disappointed that your fingers don’t brush again. He reaches into his coat as you put the book back in your bag. The file he pulls out makes you sober up from the butterflies in your stomach.

Right, this wasn’t a date — despite Satoru's jests — this was a mission. It must be a pretty daunting one if two Grade 1 sorcerers were needed. “Gojo — “ Your huff makes Kento pause. “Honestly, Ken, just call me (Y/N).” Your eyes widen. Stumbling over your words, you try to apologize for your bluntness, your hair practically lifting and puffing like a panicked cat. It has been so long since you’ve been classmates. A whole decade had breezed past. Calling him by an old nickname after so long was so rude!

To your surprise, Kento smiles. It’s unlike Satoru's, free and sharp, the corners curled like a sly fox as he set his sights on adventure. Kento’s smile was reliable, assuring you without words. Like a prince, though one that was gentler in his ways of living compared to the gallivanting knight that is Satoru.

“Only if I can call you, (nickname).”

Yū’s face floats to the surface. You had given Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and Kento their nicknames.

Satoru, ‘Toru. Suguru, Su-Su. Shoko, Ko-Ko. Kento, Ken.

Yū, well, you had trouble giving him one considering how short his name already was. So he gave you a nickname instead. It stuck more than the others, every time you saw him he’d immediately call you that and you’d struggle to find a nickname that’d stick for him.

After his death, nobody called you that anymore.

If spirits were kept alive through memory, you’re certain Yū’s was thriving thanks to Kento. His classmate, his best friend. What an honoured spirit he must be. Kento was a quiet man, your mother often said those stoic ones were filled with such blinding love it left them tight-lipped so as to not overwhelm others. You wonder if your feelings have tainted Suguru in any way. The very thought makes your knuckles whiten. How awful. You hope he does not resent you.

You remember visiting Kento after Yū’s funeral, leaving food for him at his front door for weeks until you found out he had moved out.

That was a dark summer.

“Of course you can, Ken.” He stands as you do, falling into step next to you as you make your way towards your destination.

This was an interesting mission. It was located in an alleyway that once harboured a noodle shop. Something chased away the people. The building on the right was an abandoned temple, and the building on the left was a nightclub that was torn down after a murder happened.

An unlikely set of locations sprinkled with fear and isolation. The perfect breeding ground for curses. The mix of religious trauma and debauchery formed a mass that seemed forcefully threaded together by a thick rope in the center that looked oddly like noodles.

What peeved you about it was that it took less than two hours for Kento and you to investigate and exorcise it.

He swung his weapon in the air, the dissipating gore of the curse splattering on the walls in a spray. You’re waving away some dust and debris, coughing as you crush a minor curse’s head under your boot. This mission was dangerous, a perfect mission for a Grade 1 sorcerer.

A Grade 1 sorcerer.

It hardly required a duo.

‘ Satoru, ‘ you’re choking him in your mind. This must be his doing. He'd joke about setting you up with Kento but you thought it was that, a joke.

A heavy hand places itself on your shoulder, turning to face him you’re caught by how close your faces are. “Are you alright?” your body twists and you can't remember when he got so tall.

“I’ll be sore, but it’s nothing new.”

You were his favourite out of his upperclassmen. Kento never said that out loud, he wasn’t sure why; you weren’t the quietest or most polite. You were any other teenage boy. Except that was a lie.

(L/N) (Y/N). You were a product of your clan’s race to stand out. The destiny many searches for was laid out ahead of you the second you were conceived.

But you were kind. Not that the rest of the upperclassmen weren’t. You were different, a shining light that Kento finds himself gravitating towards like a moth to a flame. You were the night sky, twinkling and watching those around him. Kento was a mere mortal. All he could do was admire from the ground as he helplessly reached up to embrace deities.

He slides his hand down to your arm, and the reaction is immediate. Pain shoots up your arm, blood hidden by the dark uniform. Kento undoes his tie and wraps it above the bleeding cut. It’s crazy what adrenaline can do to you.

“Kento, you didn’t have to,” you wince as he tightens it. He offers no apologies though his jaw still clenches.

You were strong, your ranking was proof of that. But you were a (L/N). Kento heard of the rumours they tell about your clan's weak bodies but overeager abilities. It was a nice way to say that your clan was in over your head. As history notes, your clan was more devious than forthcoming. Hailing from ninjas or assassins or whatever it is that seemed more malicious.

“I’ll bring you to the school,” his tone was resolute. “It’s just a cut,” he frowns as he takes another look at it. It was deep, not bone-deep, but deep.

He’s terrified that there’s truth in them. The rumours. As you stand here with your heated cheeks and too-warm touch, he’s worried that your brain is overheating. Or maybe your blood is boiling and killing you. You could drop dead right in front of him right now, despite the amount of times you get up each and every time.

He’s terrified, (Y/N). He cannot lose another person he cares about. Kento absolutely refuses to do that all over again.

“Kento,” that stubborn purse of your lips never did go away. He can see the fight you have in you, that fire that fuels you.

As you smile, Yū’s face eclipses yours. For a split second. Just a second. It makes Kento loosen his grip. “I’m fine, Ken. Swear it,” he reluctantly lets you go.

“I apo — “

Your fingers thread through his. They’re intertwined and your grip is firm.

‘ I’m here, ‘ each squeeze relays, ‘ I’m safe, Kento. ‘

The coolness of your ring on his skin earns you a firm press.

He’s content watching you from afar, Kento had long decided that would be his fate. There was no honour in it. He sure as hell didn’t expect a heavenly reward for it. Perhaps he’s a fool for living the way he does. Kento knows he's lying to himself. Deep down he wants nothing more than to kiss you, hold you, make you his, and let him be yours.

But Kento’s fear of losing you outweighs his love for you. Staying by Gojo Satoru's side ensures your safety, wealth, status and prosperity.

Kento will be content with that. Tripping through these messy tangles of heartstrings would just be how his life went. Even if Gojo Satoru did not deserve you, he provided you with more.

He would come home without fail. He was the strongest.

“After we patch up, let me buy you dinner tonight, (nickname). We can catch up.” The offer brightens your expression. You’d always been so divine when you smile, (Y/N).

“(Y/N)?” Satoru always smells so sweet before bed. It’s the lotion he puts on his skin, specifically everywhere else Fushiguro Toji had stabbed him.

It was expensive and meant to heal and moisturize damaged skin. They’re barely there anymore. The only proof of that day was nothing more than stark lines, and barely blushed skin that hides beneath his bangs. It was just routine now, a habit he couldn’t break. Or perhaps, a reminder for him; to know what it felt like to bleed out, to die, to let others die. The day he ascended to the heavens and became the honoured one. The day everything shifted.

“Oi, (Y/N).” You’re burying your face into his neck and Satoru stiffens. He’s ticklish there, he’s told you that before.

“Are ya’ drunk? Did Nanami get you drunk?” His voice lifts in amusement at the end. He'd heard that Nanami was quite a heavy drinker from what Shoko had told him. He hadn’t expected you to come here after a date. He was nearly asleep when you stumbled into the bedroom. Did you forget your new address? Satoru feels your hands tighten around his waist. A blanket of sadness shrouds you.

“Oi. Did something happen?”

You shake your head. Never in a million years would you fathom hating grain or bread. It wasn't her fault for holding Kento's heart but what sort of cruel joke was this? The gods were mocking you. Satoru swallows thickly as your lips brush the junction of his shoulder and neck.

“Did Nanami do something?” His anger was immediate, you could taste it from how close you were. Had he always been so responsive to your emotions? All it took to make him lose his coolheadedness was a suspicion that someone had hurt you.

“Why are you here, (Y/N)?”

“Ken, he dropped me off here.” Your legs stumble as you sway so Satoru holds your hips. He can smell the grilled meat from your hair, the alcohol from your breath, and the antiseptic wound dressing under your clothes.

“You didn’t bring him home?” Satoru teases.

“He brought me home.” Satoru can feel your lashes tickle his neck. Your breath is fanning that barely-there-scar and it makes gooseflesh ripple across his skin. Right, in the public’s eye, this was still your home. Kento was a gentleman, of course, he’d send (Y/N) back to his husband.

“This is my home, S'Toru,” he agrees with you with a nod, “Of course, beloved. We should get you ready for bed, yeah?”

His breath gets caught in his throat as he takes you in. The moonlight makes your skin look absolutely ethereal. Those tales of forest spirits with decadent forms and whispering eyes that lure men to their deaths pale in comparison to you. The drunken flush that looks silly on others makes you look like you’re a teenager all over again. Your gaze was unfocused, jumping or lingering from one thing to the next.

But your eyes meet him and they're so dark. He’s taken aback. It happens when someone’s in a dim room like you are currently. Your pupils dilate to let more light in. Satoru knows that’s not the case. You’re 17 again and the windows to your soul betray you by letting Satoru in. It’s silly what humans do when they’re in love. How our eyes insist on seeing more of them. Take in every microscopic detail despite not having the ability to do so. Fluttering those eyelashes as if curling a coy finger.

' Come, ' your eyes are saying. ' Let me show you where I ache the most, this void in my chest. Come. Inhabit me. Bare your soul to me. '

The act of kissing is perhaps the silliest. Moulding your lips with another person, feeling them against you as your soul breathes into their body. It’s Satoru’s favourite sensation. The intimate act of it all, of breathing life into someone you love. It was almost cannibalistic in a way. As you stand in front of him, hiccuping from all the drinks you took and only being supported by his hands Satoru can’t stop the way his gaze lingers on your lips. Satoru wants to kiss his husband. He wants to feel your soul burn him from the inside and he wants you to harbour his own in yours.

“Why can’t I just sleep now?” You mumble. Satoru’s palm cools your flushed cheeks, his thumb ghosting the edge of your lips.

“You smell like grilled meat and beer,” he traces your jawline and cups the back of your head to pull you into his embrace. Too drunk to care about how fast your heart is beating, you simply let it happen. Satoru’s big hands travel down and he shushes you when you squirm.

Down to the sides of the waist, then to your hips, further down and down until he catches the back of your knees. He lifts you so you wrap your arms around him, going all but limp.

“Grilled meat and beer smell great! I’m so sleepy, please,” he chuckles as you kick your feet. “I prefer if the bedsheets smell the way they do now. Man, how much did you have to drink?”

The hiccup you make when he sets you on the counter makes him shake his head. Satoru tells you to lean back so he can undress you. It’s amusing to see the emotions on his face as he does.

The metallic scent still lingers judging from how Satoru’s nose is twitching. Suppose the new jacket you got did little to mask it. He unbuttons your undershirt and his eyes widen. At that, you turn to breathe in the mirror, entranced by the way your breath leaves traces of itself on the smooth surface.

Satoru ignores the way your chest stutters as he traces the outlines of the fucked up star-shaped scar on your chest. It was a sick imitation of your skin colour. So close to your heart, too close. Your hand rests on top of his as you trace his knuckles.

“There aren’t a lot of doctors like Shoko overseas,” Satoru slips his hand away from you. It rests on the big scar on your side now. He can feel the marred skin beginning from your back all the way to the front, like a sickle. He can imagine it, see the way a claw or a tooth had nearly split you in half if you hadn't gotten out of the way.

It must've ached. He would know. Muscles being torn apart viciously, bone thudding so harshly on the ground that sometimes he's convinced it's broken. You must've been in pain — muscles and nerves screaming at every movement despite whatever sorcery was used to heal it.

Scars are a part of the sorcerer society. It’s a rite of passage just as much as dying is. He’s not surprised you have them. He’s seen your bare torso before. When it’s an unbearable hot summer or on a beach, you’ve chosen to shed a few layers. Sometimes, you’d even sleep topless if it was too humid.

Each time, Satoru would find himself looking at your scars. Counting them, wondering where some came from and what mission caused it. Or was it an accident? A childhood scar that never went away. Was it your training?

Was it your father?

He never asked. Satoru didn’t want to say anything for fear that you’d no longer be comfortable around him. The ones he remembered, he'd let his gaze linger on but the others? No. It felt shameful to ask. So he never knew. Simply wondered.

In those four months, why had your scars increased? The severity of it looked more and more painful.

“You’re usually not so careless,” fear grips him and his expression is so morbid you laugh. Satoru finds no amusement in it and his firm gaze makes your chuckle fade away.

“Maybe my family’s curse is catching up to me.”

“That isn’t a laughing matter.” Satoru knows you’re not completely immune to the flames you cast. You’ve certainly grown a tolerance for it (and other flames), once or twice he recalls you casually patting away at the inky flames that catch on your clothes. But it’s a great technique.

Too great some would say.

Divine Flame. A technique that enabled the user to control cursed wildfires. To manipulate it to burn through nearly everything it came into contact with. A searing black that makes you sweat even from a distance. That is so bright when cast, it blinds those who dare gaze upon it.

The whispers of your clan making a deal with a cursed spirit followed you everywhere you went. People claim that your ancestors made a Binding Vow to become great sorcerers. To rival the other houses and to fill the void of power that Sukuna Ryomen left your society in after he massacred great clans.

But your ancestor got greedy and the vow was broken, which left canyons of karma engraved in the bones of their children. It was why your clan could never flourish. It was why the children die out, why the women grow barren and the men weak.

It was ridiculous but Satoru himself wonders if there’s truth in it.

Why would the Gods give you a body you couldn’t sustain? Were you truly cursed? This mighty curse technique engraved into your skeleton burns you from the inside out; is it hurting you?

If it was, Satoru would demand the Gods to come down and face him. Why should you pay for the mistakes of your ancestors?

Why would they dare take more from you?

From Satoru?

Had they not have their fill?

Just rumours, he tells himself. If they — the Gods — dared taking you from him he'd raze heaven and hell.

“...You would tell me if it was, right?”

Has Satoru’s eyes ever looked as dark as they did now? There’s a ring of blue surrounding that endless void. As he peers up at you, all you can focus on is that sliver of heaven. That cerulean that reminds you of the sky and the sea, that you swear shines in mischief or glows like a good omen.

What is this darkness you're peering into? An abyss that whispers for you;

' Come. Let me show you, come, teeter over the edge and fall with me.'

“Would you stop it, Satoru?” your hands on his cheek make his skin burn. “This so-called ' great family curse, ' could you stop it?”

“I’d do anything to protect you, beloved.” He'd make the Gods ever regret making him fall in love with you.

You grin as your thumb swipes over his cheekbones and all thoughts of killing unreachable Gods dissipate. Satoru lets you come down from the counter, ready to catch you if you fall as you attempt to take your pants off.

Satoru is squirming like a worm under the sun. He’s sat on the toilet lid, refusing to let you tend to him. “Gojo,” your sigh makes him chew on his inner cheeks. Finally, you manage to get his shirt off and without that second skin, he feels far too cold.

You’re in nothing but a towel. Your funeral garbs are being tended to by servants. They were probably steaming out the wrinkles while you attempted to wring Satoru back into shape.

“I can do it by myself.”

He hasn’t eaten. What little he does eat is barely sustaining him. Satoru could barely stand after his adrenaline wore off, you truly hope he will not be stubborn. You reach for his boxers and he exclaims, once again;

“I can do it by myself!”

The blood that rushes to his head humbles him. Satoru stands and Satoru falls. You catch him, gasping out his name as your arm wraps themselves around him.

His face is on your chest, resting on your clavicles while your chin is on his shoulder.

Look away, he wants to tell you. Look away from me.

Suguru’s love letters are still dark on his pale skin. Like flowers blooming under sunlight, they decorate him from behind his ears to the nape of his neck. Satoru can recall pushing Suguru away as he did, his skin remembering unfeeling metal but Suguru kisses him and Satoru forgets it all.

He thought Suguru could forget it too. He tries not to cry but he does anyway. Satoru sobs into your chest and a part of you feels anger. It was your mother’s funeral.

Why the fuck is he crying?

But your grief is hanging outside the bathroom, neat and crisp and proper. It will weigh like boulders when you slip it on and you’ll feel your stomach twist into knots as you hold back the urge to vomit. In this bathroom, Satoru’s guilt is his and you’ll be there to wash it away.

He hates himself for it. He hates how you rub his back and shush him, gathering him in your arms as you stand so you can brush away all these feelings.

He couldn’t imagine going to his mother's funeral.

He also couldn't imagine Suguru not being by his side but that was now reality.

Your mother was a kind woman. Not naively trusting, barely had any faith in others his mother once told him. But she was warm despite it. Cunning underneath the pleasantries she shared.

His mother enjoyed her company. He can’t recall if she ever enjoyed anyone’s company other than his father and his own.

‘ She’s a wonderful woman. Shame she’s married to such a horrible man, ‘ she once told him.

“Let me wash your hair, Gojo.” The water hides his tears but you wipe them away regardless. You offer him a smile and Gojo can feel that tree of guilt sprout.

He catches you as you trip on your discarded pants and perhaps you should feel bashful or shy as your naked body is pressed against his clothed one. But you’re too drunk and too sleepy to care.

Your face rests on his chest and his chin is over your shoulder.

“Why do you call me that?”

Satoru turns the shower on, one arm loosely wrapped around your waist as he tests the temperature.

“Beloved?” You nod against him and the hair that tickles his throat doesn’t make his insides shudder in memory of that day.

“Do you want me to stop calling you that?”

He pushed you into the shower and the warm water has you groaning. He’s gentle as he manoeuvres your bandaged arm up, telling you to brace it on the wall to not get it damp.

His eyes are still so dark.

“Your shirt is getting wet,” you point your finger at it. Neither of you addresses your blatant brush-off. He tells you to turn around and you do. From the corner of your eyes, you see his clothes getting tossed onto the floor and the sound of his hand's lathering soap has you fluttering your eyes closed.

He envies the careless way the water hugs you. How it slithers from your shoulders down to the curves of your legs. Rivulets of ambrosia ease your sore muscles in ways that he wished he could.

“People...people usually use baby or babe,” Satoru’s hands lather soap on your back and you lean forward to press your forehead on the wall.

“Hey,” it twists beneath your arm, brushing over your chest and tilts your head up. You can feel his chest hovering over your back and you wonder if there are raised lines where Fushiguro Toji stabbed him.

“Do you want me to call you baby or babe?”

You shrug, wanting to hang your head again but somehow keeping it exactly the way Satoru had positioned it even as his hand moves to your back again. “It’s because you’re dear to me. Calling you my dear sounds way too archaic though.” He smiles as you scoff, “As opposed to my beloved?”

You’re sobering up from the water. He can feel your muscles tensing under his touch.

“What did you call Suguru?”

You prayed that you didn’t ruin this moment. The sick curiosity of it all has rotted in you for too long. You need to know how great his love was, from his mouth alone.

If you’ve spent a decade of your life resenting yourself for being in love with a man who was never yours, you’d like to know if he was truly unreachable.

“I called him my one and only.”

He sees no point in hiding it from you. Satoru didn’t want to hurt you, he hoped if anything this would make you run into Kento’s arms. A restart, a good man who had more than enough money to make sure you wouldn't have to give up too many comforts (Satoru's money and Kento's were no laughing matter but his was as infinite as his abilities due to generational wealth). From what he gathered on Nanami, from previous partners to his parents and health, he was clean. You deserve that. His beloved, you deserve to be with a man who would never hurt you.

“Your one and only.” Your face is hidden from him. He wants nothing more than to turn you around so he can see what you’re thinking.

“But I am dear to you, Satoru?”

“You are. You’re,” he struggles to find the words. As he does, he struggles to say it.

Cutting him off, you tell him; “You are my first love, Satoru."

He inhales sharply. Crimson seeps from the gauze of your bandages. Staining the white with red. The pinpricks of pain barely register.

“Suguru was yours. I don’t hate you for it. I don’t blame you. You alone hold the sorcerer society’s expectations on your shoulders. Its happiness and misery are all on you. The strongest. I am vindictive. I am selfish.”

“Beloved, you’re not.”

You turn to face him. Here you are, standing in front of each other. Bare and vulnerable. You might as well say what you need to.

“I am, Satoru. I wanted you to hurt, I wanted you to be in pain, for 10 years all I ever wished for was for you to feel what I felt. My love for you was tainted by my own feelings by my own hate. He was your one and only. How could I hate you for that? How could I hate him for that?”

Satoru looks to the side, clenching his jaw as his hands ball up into fists. He shouldn't say anything more but there's this voice pleading for him to say it. Say that he forgives you despite the fact that you didn't need to apologize in the first place. Isn't this what couples do? They kiss and make up. After a decade of this, of wearing rings and honouring vows, you would think it was something the both of you got used to doing.

That's not what you are, in a few months, the only remains of this marriage will be harboured in memories alone. So why does this voice grip him so tightly? This hope that the both of you can actually be together...he needs to extinguish it.

“I’m glad we had each other throughout these years, I'm glad you stayed even if it was out of pity. Even if we were unhappy, even if I could not...please you. We’re friends, and I could never hate Suguru for being your great love.”

“Stop, please.” Your blood is trailing down your arm. Turning the water into a pale red as it swirls down the drain. “I married you so I could marry Suguru.” He releases a shuddering breath. Satoru’s words sobered you up like a slap to the face.

“I was 16. There were marriage proposals from everywhere, even from overseas. I didn’t want to marry them. Not because they were strangers but because my duties would pull me away from his side. But I was forced to. By higher-ups, by clan members, by my mother, the world was looking at me. You said it yourself. The misery and happiness of the world we live in depended on me. But I wanted Suguru more than anything."

He’s looking at you with tears in his eyes. It's your heart that's being shattered.

So why the fuck was he crying?

“I told him if I married you, we would divorce and you would understand the reason. Because you were our friend. Suguru said it was cruel. He knew you loved me.”

These words were like striking a match and holding it to the leaves of that beautiful willow tree you made him.

“Stop, Satoru.”

“I knew too.”

“Please, stop!”

“I — I didn’t...I would take it back if I could. But I can’t.” That voice within him withers to nothing. He pretends he doesn't feel his chest ache as he stares at your betrayal. Your arm pulses in pain but you can barely find it in you to care.

“My beloved — "

“You knew I loved you? All that time, you knew I loved you?”

Was this better? For all these years, you thought he chose you because he held some sort of fondness for you. Perhaps the comfort of familiarity wasn't too far off. But the fact that he chose you due to your proximity? The reason he was so insistent on binding your hands together in matrimony was due to distance?

In another life, Suguru is where you stand now. Except there’d be no distance. They’d be pressed together, lips locked with a passion even your flames couldn’t rival. Would you be happy in that life? Knowing that your marriage was all a facade until the honor was fulfilled and Satoru would whisk his true husband to the altar.

“You used me.” He tries to grab you but you flinch away, stumbling over your own feet as your back meets the wall.

“I’m so sorry.” "You keep saying that, Satoru!"

You needed to get away from him. There was no way this could work. Not as friends, not as husbands, not as anything more. It was foolish to think otherwise. You attempt to squeeze past him and out from the glass doors but he holds you by your shoulders.

Satoru holds you to his chest as you try to slip out of his grasp. You'd think it'd be easy since you were practically covered in soap suds. If your tears were gold, you'd be the richest man alive. He's glad you go limp, gathering you so close you can feel the raised skin of the scar he had.

Blood is seeping through the fine hairs on his arm, staining it as you hang your head in defeat. He turns you around and the foggy glass doors of the shower make your back arch.

He should stop. This absolutely won't end well. He's broken your heart, cremated it into dust. Was this his punishment from a past life? Had he scorned a lover? Was it you? Were the both of you destined to love each other this way?

Why must he love this way? You can't tell what's running through your veins right now. Adrenaline? Anger? Beer? You don't know what it is, but it makes you stay as he stares at you.

"Hate me if you need to. I can take it, (Y/N). I promise you I can."

That's the problem. You can't. The definition of hate had been skewered for you centuries ago. Maybe this is how you love Satoru; with bitter longing and resentment. They had four letters, practically indistinguishable from each other in your mind because that's what Satoru has done to you.

From the second you saw for the first time, he'd burned his very soul on your heart. Branded you like cattle with his smile, left cuts with every exhale and inhale as he laughed; this is what loving Satoru feels like.

How did Suguru manage? Was he a stronger man than you? You wish you could ask him. Would his cold corpse cushion your back with his chest, praising you for taking Satoru's sadistic love so well?

The tip of his nose brushes against your ear as he embraces you. This is what Satoru feels like slotted against you.

So many questions are running through your mind. None were answered. They kept buzzing and it's making your eyes water. The steam, the familiar scent of your favourite soap, and Satoru's fading sweetness as the lotion is washed off.

"I hate you," Satoru's breath does not hitch. He turns his head and your lips quiver as he brushes along your jaw. He can feel you trembling as his face hovers across yours. You should put distance between him. Scream and tell him to get away.

Still, there is this terrible desire to be loved by him.

Just.

Just once.

' Come. '

His eyes are still so dark.

' Inhabit me. '

So are yours.

' Let me show you. '

They flicker to your lips, pure white lashes do little to hide heaven away.

' Bare your soul to me. '

His cheek twitches when you place a hand on it. No barrier between your palm and his face. Being naked isn't the reason why you feel so exposed. It's the way he's looking at you. As if your very skin was peeled away, muscles torn apart, bones bashed to smithereens; as if he used Hallowed Purple and eviscerated you into nothing but the very essence of your soul. He drinks it in with that unlimited darkness.

' I have. Now fall with me. '

He kisses you.

It's not the other times when he tries to initiate intimacy. No. It isn't methodical, hesitant, awkward. On the other hand, it isn't passionate either. It's wet. It's pathetic. Both pairs of lips bumbling fools that try to make jagged pieces to fit. Tears sting in your eyes, and Satoru can't understand why he does this to you.

' Look at what I do to you, ' he thinks, ' all I do is hurt you. '

You gasp when his hand pulls you in closer.

Just once.

He needs to hold you like this just once.

To show you how he loves the only way he knows how — to devour you with his sin so you know how much he meant. He knows he shouldn't. This would only muddy the dark waters you tread through. But fuck it.

Fuck it.

Fuck the world. Fuck the higher-ups. Fuck the clans, fuck expectations, fuck Suguru, fuck Shoko, fuck Kento —

"Satoru," you're breathing into his mouth, lips still pushed against the other as you try to catch your breath. Praying at the altar of the body that holds your soul; Satoru is weakest before you.

His godhood is forgotten.

The strongest kneels.

The taste of him is making your head fuzzy. The pain feels insignificant and for a moment the heartbreak is forgotten.

"(Y/N)," there, where you ache for him, he's there.

His tongue feels like velvet. With one leg tossed over his shoulder, you're at his mercy. Those plush lips paint your skin, ushering your blood just under the skin's surface. The tugs on his hair make him groan as he leaves apologetic licks on your inner thighs.

"Satoru," your whisper could make a mountain bow. A brush of his teeth has you gasping. It's soon replaced with a moan as he takes your cock into his hands.

It's obscene. Sex was never meant to be anything but — however, the sight makes you feel dizzy.

This ethereal man is on his knees, cerulean eyes staring up at you as he kisses the tip of your cock. A hand squeezes the underside of the thigh on his shoulder, slithering up to your hip and reaching for your chest and neck. The whisper of his touch on your chin has you whimpering.

"Don't look away," he says, "keep your eyes on me, my beloved."

Your hands attempt to grab the purchase of the glass doors, but all you manage is a handful of steam. They cover the marks you leave as your palms press on the glass. Satoru's mouth and tongue feel like velvet — so warm and wet. When you nearly slip his nose is pressed to your pubic hair so he simply lifts your other leg. The only thing you can do is thrust into his mouth.

He strokes your hips, nails lightly scratching the surface as he encourages you to do as you please. The noises he makes go straight to your dick and you feel like you're losing your mind.

As you curl over, gripping his head, you can only see white. Satoru's throat is gulping all of your cum down, and the sensation of your cockhead being squeezed has your heels digging into his back.

Those 10 years of denying him felt ridiculous now.

There's a distinctly (Y/N)-shaped stain on the bed. There's still soap on your skin. The coldness in the air makes being wet and naked uncomfortable. But Satoru is there.

He's kissing you like he wants to eat you alive and you're weak to his whims. Your cock is in his hands, painfully hard as he strokes it and swallows every pitiful mewl you let out.

Here he is again, ruining you, branding you.

He's not entirely at fault. You let him.

It was not his fault he loved another and it was not your fault you loved him. He was a teenager, so were you. What did he know of consequences, of choice, of pain? He was 16, in love.

Were you truly vindictive? Why were you so devout in your worship?

What were you worshipping?

The tragedy of this marriage? The humour of it all is a great soap drama that the Gods peer down at to coo at.

"(Y/N)," he says your name like it was a prayer. Such reverence in his worship. His lips are trailing down to your neck and the scriptures of adoration he places on your skin make your back arch into him.

"Satoru," he answers his name with a whisper of yours. He takes a nipple in his mouth, teeth catching to feel your chest try to escape it. He doesn't let it. He tongues at the scar you have, pressing kisses there and to the scar on your side, the scar on your hip, the one on your thigh, the one near your belly button...

"(Y/N)," he'd whisper every time he does.

Satoru is in between your legs but you don't want him there. He grunts as you pull on his forearm, a breath away from showing you his dedication to you but he doesn't complain because you're kissing him.

He likes kissing you.

Satoru moves his jaw up and down, you can barely catch up but that isn't without trying. The feeling of his undercut makes your hand move to grab his hair so you can breathe. His forehead is on yours and water drips from his bangs as he pants.

That endless void; it reflects only you.

"(Y/N)".

It's your name that leaves his lips.

"(Y/N)."

He's pleading for you.

"My beloved."

You're dear to him.

Your grip loosens and he relishes the way your soul burns as it goes down his throat.

When he's inside of you, you were certain you were going to die. Life has taught you plenty of lessons and one of them was that nothing good came without a price.

His cock split you open as gently as he could make it. It was tight. You were grateful for his fingers that stretched you despite how uncomfortable it had been at first. Tears still fall as you try your best to breathe, Satoru kisses them away. He's braced on his arms with you underneath him.

It takes all his strength not to pound into you. He's barely halfway in and all he wants is to stay inside you forever. You're squeezing and he inhales sharply, a breathless chuckle escaping him.

"Easy, you're gonna cut my dick off, baby," you sniffle in response. Satoru reaches to pump your cock and shushes you as you moan out his name.

"I'm right here, beloved."

"Satoru," he meets you halfway when you lean up. His heart clenches as he tastes your tears, saying nothing as you laugh in between the lip-locking. His hips move and you clutch onto him tighter.

"Oh fuck, 'Toru." He's there. Nestled in the space he had molded inside of you. Satoru is sheathed fully. You're convinced you're about to die as your chest grows heavier. He cradles your face in his hand, wiping that steady flow of tears as he thrusts in and out. You simply let him, gasping for air and mercy as your body hangs onto him.

"(Y/N), fuck, (Y/N)," his nose curls as his lust-lidded eyes drink you in.

"'To - Toru, Satoru." He can feel your nails digging into his back. It stings but fuck does it feel good.

"More. Nuh - Need more, 'Toru. Need — "He nods. You don't have to say it. You need him.

"Me too, (Y/N). You feel s'good, s'fuckin' good."

When his hips rattle yours, it's enough to have you sobbing.

"Love you so fucking much," he says. You don't have to say it back. Because your eyes betray you. They only reflect him and you're sure this is how you die.

"Satoru."

With his name on your lips.

"Please."

Begging for his mercy.

"Satoru."

You ____ him.

The clouds are strangely dark today. Earlier this morning, the reporter had babbled on and on about the clear blue skies and bright sunny day. Weather predictions weren't an exact science, Satoru knew that, but the sky was not cheery much less sunny.

It was baleful.

The Gojo clan's grounds were meticulously opulent. Preserved history in every shimmering roof tile and old ghosts whispering tales from the creaking wooden frames. The servants are dressed to the nines as well. They lower their gaze with such grace, Satoru wonders if they're robots.

"Satoru, you've come home."

His mother does not meet him at the entrance, nor anywhere else other than her office. It's a traditional room with an open floor plan, despite her aging body she prefers sitting cross-legged as she works or writes or draws or whatever it is she likes to do.

If the sharpness of ice could be personified, it was his mother. It was spine-shivering every time someone told him that he resembled her. Her hair was colder than his own, having an almost silver tone to it compared to his lilac. Her eyes were almond-shaped with delicate double eyelids that lifted up at the end, which resembled a cunning fox. Satoru knows his nose was from hers, his chin as well although his lips were passed from his fathers instead.

"Yes, I have."

Before her, on the short-legged table (which she had commissioned from a talented craftsman), were the signed divorce papers.

It'd only been a day. There was no surprise, if anyone was going to find out it would not be the head of the (L/N) clan.

It'd be his mother.

"Was he not good to you, Satoru?" The shadows swallow his visage as a cloud covers the sun. "It was a mutual decision," he says, "we both thought it'd be best."

"Because of Itadori Yuji's death?" his brows pinched together. A sigh escapes her. "If you feel so much for children, I wonder why you never had some of your own. Men like yourself can have bloodlines now through extraordinary science." "It wasn't because of young Itadori."

"Well, it'd better have been for a good reason then. This divorce will not reflect badly on you. I know why you settled for (L/N) (Y/N) despite his clan's reputation. However cruel it was, you told me yourself you'd take responsibility. I recall you using your power as head of the clan to strong-arm the decision despite much more powerful families offering their sons for you. This ' mutual ' decision will only have a consequence on (Y/N)."

She sniffles prudently.

"I quite like him as my in-law. His late mother was an honorable lady. I do not wish for her to haunt you for hurting her son."

"I cannot keep him against his will. He wishes to be free."

She scoffs at him. He does not need to lift his eyes to know how sharp her scrutiny is. The clan may have spoiled him with care and affection, but his mother had not. A hand was never raised and she never yelled, however, she ensured that her son was able to lead studiously.

"Free? Of you?" she places her temple against the knuckles of her fist. "Do you beat him? Are your words harsh and cruel? Do you rule your house with an iron fist like his impudent father?" Satoru shakes his head, frowning at the very suggestion.

"Mother, of course, I wouldn't — "

"Do you take him despite his protests? Force him to labor heedlessly to your whims? Is there a lustier boy waiting for you in a seedy hotel?"

"Gods, no! What do you take me for!?"

Her brows cover her double eyelids as she glares at him. "Then what is it that he wishes to be free from? If you are not mistreating him, if you treat him kindly, what is the freedom he seeks?"

"My informants tell me he had signed it before you did. They tell me that he had moved to a penthouse 4 months ago, mere days after Geto Suguru's death."

The light filters through that grey cloud. It highlights the upturned tip of her nose, her pink-dusted cheeks, and her lilac eyes. She was such a refined beauty, it was no wonder her son was too. But this made her look especially cruel as she stared him down.

"I took responsibility, I told him what my initial intentions of marrying him were," he says. "You idiot," she seethed. "He was a respectable man. A good man. A strong sorcerer with a cunningness his late mother had passed down to him and you chose a dead man?"

"You humiliate him, Satoru. The poor boy will be eaten alive by the gossip. Will you take responsibility for that too?"

"How are you doing, my love?"

Megumi raises from below the covers. The distinct sound of the windows rattling open makes him rub the sleep from his. He takes a breath, then says; "I'll be training with the second-year students today with Kugisaki." He hears you exhale and he can see the gentle grin you have on your face even with your back turned to him.

“Is she going easier on you?”

“No point in training if they’re going easier on you,” he mumbles. It makes you laugh while you settle next to him on the edge of the bed.

“Fair. You still haven’t answered my question, Megumi.”

The silence drones for a minute. Despite this, you can tell what races through his mind. Memories bursting with every blink and laughter echoing in his ears. All the things he should not have to know, all those precious moments ripped away from him.

“Does it ever get easier?” His cobalt gaze is especially heavy as they dance around the room.

“Losing someone?”

You stared at the wisps of steam that escaped the spout of the kettle on the kitchenette. Losing a comrade was a rite of passage for sorcerers. Through death, through betrayal, through this or that. For you, you supposed, it was a gentle albeit tedious loss.

The morning after that night had left you nauseous. Satoru was awake just as you woke, and both of you silently, rigidly, stayed in the embrace. His toned arms wrapped around your torso, nose pressed to the top of your head whilst your lips were mere inches away from his neck. His grip tightens as you squirm but ultimately he lets you go.

You couldn't bear it. That night of bittersweetness, of passion you've been craving for, of weepy love confessions and apologies. Not anymore. So you signed the papers despite the 8 months left and sent them to him.

It's Megumi who witnessed the death — according to the reports he'd been fighting with Sukuna Ryomen all by himself. That trait you know he got from Satoru, not the cockiness, but the self-sacrificing resolve. You hate Satoru for tainting Megumi with it, even if most would call it valor.

There is no honour in a child dying.

“Yeah,” Megumi inhales through his nose. It stings. Every inhale is a reminder of Yuji’s last.

“No, it doesn’t. It stays, shrinking or stretching sometimes but it remains.” He had hoped you’d say something else. Tell him that one day he’ll forget about it all. That this sinking feeling will fade away.

But you know he wouldn’t want that. He’d want to remember. No matter how painful. To keep Yuji’s spirit alive, he’d remember.

“It’ll get easier to carry it though, that much I can promise you.” Your arm slips over his shoulders and cradles his head. He is pliant as you pull him in, closing his eyes as your lips press on his temple.

“I loved him, dad."

Megumi stares stoically, eyes rimmed with red. Those words strain to escape his chewed lips. It quivers and as much as he tries to stiffen it, a cry escapes him.

Megumi knew his time with Yuji was limited, he told himself he was content with what they had. He was a lamb sent for slaughter and the butchers were the higher-ups whose orders he fulfilled. Megumi felt like a butcher. He feels Yuuji's blood drying on his hands, he can still feel the weight of his body on his back when he carried it.

He remembers how tightly he held him when Satoru tried to pull Yuuji away from him. How unwilling he was to part with the boy who didn't deserve any of this to happen to him. Megumi starts gasping, bowing his head as he presses the heel of his hand to his teary eyes.

"Oh, Megumi." He turns into you and weeps. Body racking with sobs as you comb through his hair, curling over him as he clutches at your torso.

"I'm here, Megumi."

Tokyo is dark by the time you reach your home.

The beeping of your intercom makes you pause.

Ice-cold water travels down your spine at the overwhelming aura that comes from the front door. Although you hope for it to be Kento, or even Satoru — hell, even his mother would be great — you know who waits for you beyond that door.

To deny him what he wants will just make this more painful. What greets you as you open your door is your father’s hulking frame. Steeling your expression, you widen the door. No entourage waits in the hallway. It was just him. He always dishes out his punishments that way. He says nothing about it. Closing the door felt strangely final; the soft click and thud blanketed the penthouse in silence.

As you turn, a fist connects to your jaw. The force has your skull bouncing off the wall, crumpling to the floor.

There was a monster in your house. Trapped with you as it grabs fistfuls of your hair. It drags you to the living room, lifting and then slamming you down on the glass coffee table. The wood breaks and the glass shatters but at least it lets you go. Taking a desperate lungful of air you lift your arms to protect your head but it lifts a mighty foot placing it right on your chest.

Your ribcage screams its protests. When your hands fly out to desperately push its weight off, it merely places its knee on your chest instead. The pressure has you gasping, and blood blurs the vision in your left eye which doesn't help the disorientation. He grabs at your neck and you swear you feel your ribcage concave as you desperately try to breathe.

"You worthless child!" The beast roars. Finding a purchase of broken wood, you imbue it with cursed energy and strike it above its knee. It yells, shifting its weight enough for you to push it back and away.

Your back presses against the balcony doors and your hands tremble as you bring it to your chest and face.

The monster snarls, baring its teeth at you as it stands.

It's funny how much bigger he looks right now. It's as if you've shrunk back to being a child when you stopped being one a decade ago. It was frightening how much fear your father put in you.

When Tsumiki and Megumi first met you, you were apprehensive about adopting them. You were a teenager, barely fit to take care of yourself, much less keep two children alive. You were certain that kids were never in your cards either.

The night Tsumiki and Megumi found themselves nodding off as you were huddled up together on the couch watching some stupid TV show was when you were struck with a moment of realization.

You could never imagine laying a hand on them. The very thought made you feel sick. You wanted to protect them, cherish them, love them. Loving them felt like the most natural thing in the world.

How could your father not feel the same for you?

"I gave you everything!" He growls, veins bulging across the back of his hands.

"You breathed your first breath because of me! I gave you life!"

"Get out of my house," the words are strangled and garbled. His eyes darken as he takes steps towards you. Not like Satoru's that night. No. His eyes are dark like the walls of that hellish room. They only reflect you but not because he cares for you; because he wants to kill you.

There's a sharp whistling sound that comes from over his shoulder. The glass door behind you shatters as shards of red crystals fly towards you. His innate ability was to control broken shards of glass, changing their shapes and imbuing them with cursed energy. Blood flows from your cheek and torso. The wound from your mission with Kento spills open with fury. Cold wind rushes in as your hips bump into the railings of your balcony. He looks warbled in your vision, painted crimson.

"You're nothing without me! I made our clan rise from the ashes. I saved it from shame as I gave you that tyrant of a husband! I prevailed. I sacrificed everything for it! What do I get in return for giving you this auspicious life?"

You bring your hands up and yell as the shards intently aim for your scars, intent on ripping them open.

"Humiliation! They denied me entry to high society. Me! Denied of my destiny because of my weak-willed son!" The neighbors are rushing to their balconies and out onto the hallways. They yell if you're alright, trying to catch a peek of the scene by holding out their phones and aiming it at you. They yelp as his crystals fly into the air, clearly shocked at the unusual phenomenon.

This beast. He had 10 years to make himself worthy enough to stand between those of "high society."

Is it your fault that high society never — and would never — accept him in the first place?

He reaps what you sow. That's the kind of man he is. His pride comes before all, your mother once said to you.

She knew sacrifice. You knew sacrifice.

He knows nothing, yet he spouts his ideologies so loudly, so defiantly, it is as though it is gospel.

What a foolish man.

"Where is your respect!? Your gratitude!? I gave you life, I'll take it just as easily, boy."

He was close enough to reach out and grab you. When he did, he quickly regretted it. Fire engulfed his fist, the flame dark as ink as it roared. He yells in pain but you don't let him pull away. Instead, you bring your hands to wrap around his wrist and keep it there. His flesh smells rotten as the fire melts the skin away, charred almost. It sizzles on your skin, leaving its mark as more and more fat renders and pulsates. Bubbling like a foul soup.

Pull as he might, you keep him there, glaring with blood in your eyes.

The hand that holds his wrist lets go as he falls to his knees, summoning his weak ability again. They cut and slice furiously, emboldened by his pain, but yours was greater. With him on his knees, your hands thrust through the fire and grab his face.

It hurts. Your skin screeches in pain as the flames eat away. It feels insignificant. Before you, kneeling, was the beast that played the role of your father.

He feels as though your grip would completely crush his jaw.

The hand on yours is beginning to show bone. You feel nothing. His vomit slips down your hand, lumps of tears as well, and he looks so pathetic, so utterly inhuman. The grinding of your teeth makes your temples feel as though it's about to burst.

"Here it is! Do you feel it!? " his nerves burn to nothing, the crisping sound of his eyelashes distracting him from your voice. "I asked you a question, boy!" The flame lashes out, crawling to his elbows, and he strains out a scream.

"Here is my sacrifice!"

The fingers gripping his cheek warm and the fear in his eyes sends shivers up your spine.

There. In your eyes. That cursed candle. Its flames roar. The heat causes the windows to burst into a million pieces, sharp shards flying around. He tries to summon his ability, windows bursting as he forms a large spear. It flies to pierce through your back but your flame is too hot.

Your eyes are dark. He sees himself in them.

Had he always looked so weak?

His glass spear melts and bursts. The sound causes the building to shake and the screams that follow make your grin widen. Flecks of orange embers swirl around the both of you.

"Savour every drop of it, father."

It's always too sterile. The walls, ceilings, floors. He threatens to slip on the wooden floorboards with every step. Satoru watches the black car drive away, jaw clenched as it grows smaller and smaller into the distance.

The (L/N)'s clan manor lacked warmth. Despite the open courtyards and shoji doors, the meticulously cared for trees and shrubbery. It felt plastic. A show put on for the sake of being presentable.

The servant bows, telling him you are awake and he follows her.

The room is bright, facing the inner courtyard with a windchime swaying calmly from the threshold. You're sitting up on a futon, staring out at the small bamboo spout water feature.

Satoru can't believe his eyes. Every inch of skin below your face was covered in white bandages.

"Master (L/N), presenting Gojo Satoru."

The title brings a smile to your face.

He wasn't dead, your father, he was elsewhere. Getting his wounds treated by the best of the best but most importantly, far away from you. If Satoru thought you looked like a walking gauze, he hasn't laid eyes on your father yet. According to your stepmother, he was wrapped from head to toe, resembling a mummy from Egpyt.

It serves him right. The bastard.

You inclined your head and she bows, that same swirl pattern greets you goodbye. Master (L/N). Head of your clan. The position was temporary seeing as your father was still alive but the very title made him uneasy. Satoru settles near the wall, observing the sight before him.

The night of your 'scuffle' with your father had been the same night he fought that one-eyed curse. He had sensed a chill in his bones but with the opponent (and teaching opportunity) before him, he elected to brush it off.

"Satoru, did you see my stepmother on your way out?" He squeezes his biceps, shifting his knees as he adjusts his crossed legs. It wasn't his fault he was born with elegant legs, it felt uncomfortable to sit this way but to point his feet at you was a disrespect he wouldn't toe.

"Yeah. She seemed like she was in a rush, your brother and sisters have grown."

Of course, she would run. Make a scene of it to show her fear. To say she was displeased at the news of your fight with your father was the understatement of the century. She had wasted no time in calling for a trial, pointing a hysterical finger your way, and screaming that you did this to be called the head of the clan.

A quick mention of how your siblings lacked any resemblance to your father but an uncanny one with his trusted servant made her very tight-lipped.

"The higher-ups aren't pleased with the fiasco?" you inquire.

"What d'you think?" Satoru says dryly.

The entire population of the building had to have their phones wiped, memories too, and paid a huge sum in repairs due to your powers.

Apparently, people had thought there was a fire-breathing dragon that appeared in Tokyo.

Facing the garden, you pull the covers away. Crimson seeps through the white, like blood-tainting snow. Satoru is dressed in black pants and a white shirt, his bomber jacket was the same one you'd picked out for him some time ago.

This familiarity is not lost on him. The look in your eyes, that faraway gaze and twitching of your lips. When your mother had passed, you seemed lost but at this very moment it was as though the answer was right before you, that mishappen vision of your destiny a hair away from you.

Suguru had that same look.

"They whisper about you now," you giggle out as he takes his glasses, folding them in his lap. "They always do," he tries not to sound cocky but it's interwoven with every word.

"No. Satoru. They whisper about your curse," you wiggle your toes and stifle a grimace as the cut on your foot stings in protest. "Geto Suguru who killed his parents and (L/N) (Y/N) who nearly burned his father alive."

"They think you made us insane."

"I need reassurance." A laugh spills from your lips. He watches you curl your knees and place your elbows on them with your forehead braced on your knuckles as you give him your full attention. The sun glowed from behind you. The light does not reach your face.

"I'm not crazy, Satoru." His eyes meet yours and your smile slips away.

"I need reassurance that you won't go the same path Geto Suguru did."

"I don't resent non-sorcerers," you say curtly. "Don't play dumb." Satoru's neck is littered with traces of you. Akin to a collar. "Did the higher-ups ask you to execute me, Satoru? Do they wish to incite war on the (Y/N) clan?"

' My, you took to your role quickly, ' Satoru thinks.

"They worry that the new head of the (L/N) clan took his title with force."

"Not all of us were born with such legendary curse techniques. Is that a crime?"

Satoru's grip causes spiderwebs to appear on his glasses. "Do not be obtuse, (Y/N). You know what is implied. You've played this polite game of veiled threats and boasting for years. You know what they ask and you know what I ask."

"I don't." Shades of red bloom underneath your bandages. If Satoru concentrates enough, he could hear how the gauze seeps it and how your stitches strain as you straighten your back.

"Speak plainly."

"(Y/N)," your glare silences him.

"Speak plainly, Gojo Satoru."

Red-veined roots wrap around his throat. That precious willow tree was smoking, sparks of embers bursting from the center as it creaked and moaned. Its branches gnarled, its flowers leaving nothing but ashes.

"If the Grade 1 sorcerers weren't called to stop the fight, would you have killed him?"

The windchimes sing gently. Water gently flows from one end of the bamboo spout to the other. The birds chirp, the clouds move, and the world continues its song and dance.

Satoru's ears feel like someone has stuffed cotton in them. He makes sense of the words you speak by reading your lips, he hopes you're jesting so he looks into your eyes.

The windchimes still.

The shoji doors slide open and the same servant greets you.

"You have visitors, Master (L/N). A man named Nanami Kento and a woman named Shoko Ieiri. They've come with Fushiguro Megumi and Kugisaki Nobara as well."

"Please, send them in and escort Gojo Satoru to his car."

She stands, waiting for Satoru to do the same as his glasses threaten to shatter in his hand.

"Do not do this to me, my beloved."

"Have you ever loved me? Truly?"

His indignation fuels you with sick fascination. The corpse of Suguru grins, his cracked lips pressed to the junction of your neck as he praises you.

"I love you, (Y/N)."

"Then give me the same grace you gave our beloved Suguru. Leave me and cast your gaze aside. If you truly love me, husband. Grant me this final wish."

He whips his head to the side, reaching forward and grabbing the back of your head. It aches. Every shredded muscle and rattled bones, bruised organs and cut skin.

But he holds you against him. His lips taint yours.

Suguru chuckles coyly.

"Please." His forehead is pressed against yours, and you can feel it, that raised scar.

"I love you, I love you, I love you. Please, don't do this."

"Satoru," Suguru whispers it along with you. His tears almost taste sweet as they slip down his cheeks and land on your lips. That ghost, the one that drapes itself on your back with his bony ribs and dirt-covered gojogesa, his smile graces your face as Satoru's heart dies once again.

"Fuck off."

"Is it strange?" Megumi quirks a brow at you from across the table. You set down a plate of cut-up fruits, stealing an apple for yourself before you sit.

"Finding out he's alive 2 months later."

The expression on his face makes you struggle to hold in your laughter. You've never said it out loud but Megumi looked like a prickly sea urchin every time he was pissed off and now he was pricklier than ever.

"I wanted to pummel Gojo to the ground. Yuji too." He stabs into an apple and the loud, angry, chewing makes you giggle. His brows pinch as you grimace but you tell him not to worry.

The dining room is unmistakably grand. Feeling far too empty. Megumi much preferred your old penthouse. This manor was far too big, far too pretentious. Which wasn't a slight on your clan, just their tastes in design.

"Did he really never tell you?" he narrows his eyes.

"We haven't talked much," you reply. Megumi finds that hard to believe. You were both teachers at Jujutsu High, so interactions were unavoidable. Everyone has seen you and Satoru side by side, talking to each other about this or that. No matter how short or icy the interaction was...it was still something.

Formalities were still shared, and Satoru's crass behavior softened just as his voice does when he talks to you.

There must be some lingering awkwardness, Megumi is not naive to think that there wouldn't be. But, it was clear that there was still some affection Satoru held for you. It was almost jarring to see how blatantly you ignored it when once upon a time, you’d been silently blushing at his efforts. Megumi wondered if the two of you had yelled at each other again. He hoped that was not the case. Your relationship was far from perfect but...it wasn't as though Gojo did not deserve your bitterness.

"Is it because you're seeing Mr Nanami?" Sweetness slips down the fork and you hand him a tissue. “Is this like those shitty TV shows?”

The idea of this being a revenge arc against your ex-husband was humorous. Kento was far from the plotting type. He may be annoyed by Satoru but he wasn’t a man who would intertwine his hands with another for the sake of hurting someone.

“Haha,” you said dryly. “Finish up your homework, I’ll drive you back to school.”

Megumi doesn’t pout. At least he think he doesn’t.

He does.

He pouts as you walk out from the room.

Megumi continues to pout even in the car ride back to the dorms. You’re watching from the corner of your eyes, lips curled in endearment.

“Do you like Mr Nanami?” He blinks at the question, turning his head to look at you. Megumi crosses his arms, pout dissipating into a thin line.

“I don’t know him, but from what Yuji tells me, he is a very reliable man.”

“He is,” you continue to gaze out the window, ignoring the itchiness of the healing wounds. The only solace in this pain is that your father’s was greater. Still comatose, skin still peeling as the heat lingers in his bones.

Saying this out loud would make the crows that follow your every movement very rich though.

“In some ways, he reminds me of you. Both of you have a stoic expression, so mature-looking. Mr Nanamin is 27, so it suits him. But you, my beautiful son, — “

Megumi grunts as you poke his forehead.

“ — you are only 15. Stop frowning!” He yells in protest as you stretch his cheeks, frowns only deepening as he tries to escape your grasp.

Yuji waits in the hallways. Megumi and you pause in your steps and Yuji’s eyes widen as he opens his mouth.

“Mr (Y/N)!”

Mirth swims in your eyes. “Itadori, did you need something?” He scratches the back of his neck as his cheeks blush. How cute. Young love was such a sight to behold.

“Isn’t it?” Suguru sighs. “In the same halls, we used to walk through too, (Y/N).”

“No! Ah, just, I heard footsteps so I thought I could hang out with Fushiguro for a little.” You push Megumi not to subtly towards his room/Yuji.

“He’s all yours,” your cooing tints Megumi’s ears pink. He mumbles he wants to wash up first and Yuji just seems excited he didn’t turn down his offer. “Don’t stay up too late, Itadori. Classes are bright and early tomorrow,” he salutes you and the bright smile he has is so contagious you grin as well.

The eye on his cheek split open to take a glimpse.

As you turn, it slips close.

Kento waits for you at the house. He smells like petrichor and as you get closer there’s the distinctly sharp taste of lightning-struck earth. You burrow your face in the crisp white shirt he wears, and he smiles. You can tell even without looking. He always huffs in amusement before he smiles.

“Did you have a good day?” You shrug your shoulders and he slips his hands around you. Those strong arms squeeze you, molding you to his frame. “Did you?” He makes a noise, something between a hum and a grunt and you peek up at him.

Kento visited you frequently during your recovery. He sent you to school during your first days back, then he sent your favourite foods during your lunch and they turned into flowers.

His shy courting was anything but. Kento pursued you with a hunter's grace but a priest's devotion.

Could anyone blame you for accepting his attempts? He made your heart flutter, swoon and race. For the first time in your life, someone was sending you flowers in hopes of you paying attention to them. Kento fed you while you healed and the same day you find out that his eyes do soften when he kissed.

People whisper about how quickly you brought Kento home. Infidelity, they say. Hah! What a load of bullshit. A servant must’ve opened her mouth, one whose loyalties still laid with your stepmother.

How unlucky was it that her home had been burnt down the very day she was fired?

You wrote her your condolences. She begged for your forgiveness.

Kento doesn’t know this. You’re determined for it to remain that way.

“Today was nothing special. Tonight is a different story,” your brows raise at his flustered gaze. “I made reservations for us.”

There it goes again, your heart swoons. Kento tilts his head into your palm and you wonder what your life would have been like if you had noticed his gaze back then.

After that kiss, after knowing that he returned your feelings and only spoke of his interest in a baker because of your marriage, he confessed how he’d been smitten with you the longer that school year passed.

“You were training hand-to-hand with Geto,” he whispers to you, as if shy to confess this. You’re sat with the covers a mess at your legs and the food on the tray forgotten. He’s flustered? He kissed you silly mere seconds ago while you were wrapped up with bandages. The scent of healing ointments practically radiated from you. He was so put together and you’d been going through your clan's financial statements since 3 am.

Kento remembers it like it was yesterday. The way you lifted yourself up into the air, your leg was a blur as you spun. Tendrils of your hair caught the gleam of the sun and it glowed like vinyl. The ringing laughter that followed as Suguru dodged made his heart squeeze.

“We’re supposed to be working on your close combat skills, Su-Su!”

“Quit aiming for my head, (nickname)!” Suguru dashes towards you and you yelp as he catches your middle but the shock wears off. Suguru grunts when you press your palms down on his shoulders and dig your heels into the ground before kicking off, pushing Suguru down.

“Go, (nickname)!” Yū cheers beside Kento. He rolls on top of you, smiling victoriously until your legs wrap around his waist and twist.

“Oi, S’guru! I bet money on you!” Satoru waved his fist around while Shoko curled her fingers expectantly his way.

Kento can’t believe you’re real. Your smile is so wide he can see your gums, the sweat that beads down your skin makes you glimmer like a gem and despite the dirt on your skin Kento can’t fathom it to be a smudge or mistake.

Because everything about you seemed deliberately made. The blood and flesh of those before you must have loved each other so greatly to bless you with such a face. He wonders if, in the future, they’ll find traces of him in your bloodline.

Fire in the wind. Wild and free and untameable.

“You win, you win!” Suguru goes limp and you giggle. Rolling off of him, you lay down on the grass as he spreads his arms out like a starfish. You cushion your head on it and spot the bruise on his neck that peaks out from his unzipped jacket.

“Su-Su, you’re not holding back, are you?” you turn your gaze to the sky. He’d be a Special-grade sorcerer with no problem. His ability was insanely useful, and flexible - a trump deck of a technique. If he exceeded in close combat, that grade would be his with no ifs or buts.

The strongest.

Suguru blinks once, and twice, then offers a warm smile.

“Give yourself more credit, (nickname). You totally beat my ass.”

“You‘re amazing,” Kento tells you as the memory fades away. “I just didn’t know how to tell you. I was content with watching from the sidelines,” your finger presses to his lips and Kento’s eyes widen. It slides across his bottom lip before it travels below his jaw and ear and you’re leaning in.

“A reservation?” Your eyes twinkle. It would explain why he was dressed so nicely. It must not be the fanciest place since he wasn’t dressed in a suit and tie but the watch he wears hints at luxury nonetheless.

“Go, get ready,” he tells you in that gentle tone that makes his voice go so deep. Everything about Kento’s actions felt so intimate. You would think he’d be reserved, wanting to go slow as to be proper. In your world, death is a guillotine blade that’s dug into your neck over and over again.

Kento can be courteous but to assume he would go slow was not likely. He knows you, (Y/N). From those times in high school to the fleeting glances of you during meetings and the mission you went on; he sees you.

Perhaps it’s just the way sorcerers will always love each other.

The way Suguru loved Satoru. The way Megumi loves Yuuji. The way you loved Satoru. The way Satoru loves you.

None of you were made for casual affection. Everything and everyone that falls for wicked beings like you find themselves with deep marks embedded in their shoulders, arms, and neck; desperate hounds begging for their man to not leave them but unable to pull their teeth out.

So Kento grips you and kisses you with a heavy weight of relief and you return it.

The Gods have taken too much from you. Kento will not be one of those things they rip away from your fingers - no, not him.

“‘Atta boy,” Suguru’s decaying arms circle your waist as you walk the halls of the house. When you shed your clothes to clean yourself, Suguru sits on the edge of the bathtub. The humidity makes him look paler and his eyes more bloodshot.

“You deserve someone like him. A good man to fill that cavernous void. Kento’s always been hiding his flustered face every time you walk past him,” Suguru moves his hands around as he talks. You don’t remember him being so chatty but as of late, this apparition keeps the voices in your head quiet. He makes sure you’re not alone.

Your father must’ve knocked your head hard enough for some screws to come loose but you find it hard to care.

“Cavernous?” you mumble. Suguru pauses then leans back a bit. His hair swaying as he does so.

“Do you think it’s enough? Being loved after everything you’ve been through, is that enough for you?”

“...Was it enough for you? In your final moments, was it enough?”

What would this Suguru know about his final moments? He wasn’t real, he never had been. He’s just a manifestation of your hurt, a coping mechanism your brain conjured for some hellish reason.

“I died by Satoru’s hand and then, died in his embrace. What could be more poetic than that?”

You died in Satoru’s arms too. That night he took you as his husband. The weeping, the love confessions, the moaning. Your heart was racing in your chest as he thrust into you, his face nearly scarlet as he kissed you.

The heat that pools between your legs makes Suguru guffaw.

He dips his hand in and traces your thighs.

“Kento’s hands are rougher than ‘Toru’s. Fingers thick and finger pads sanded with hard work. Everything you taught him as his upperclassman he still uses today.”

Shuddering, you slip your knees apart. Suguru takes a hold of your cock.

“You’ve always had the best legs, ya’ know. So strong, even your punches hurt like hell."

You lean back, eyes lidded with pleasure as Suguru pumps his fist. The water spills over the side as he slips in with you, his hair acting like curtains as he peers down at you. His slanted eyes and those onyx eyes make you feel powerless against his desires.

"He'd be so sincere with you. Every thrust," a gasp makes him chuckle darkly. "Every stroke," you moan and grip the sleeves of his robe. "Every kiss," his lips trace the bridge of your nose.

"S'guru..."

"A testament to his adoration for you. He'd worship you, (nickname). But will that be enough? His skin on yours? Is his heart in your hands instead of the other way around exciting? Will that finally fill this void?"

Your spine arches and your knees bump into the edge of the bathtub. Suguru's breath feels like a hurricane as he kisses the side of your jaw, his fist damn near merciless.

"Will you accept his sacrifice, (nickname)?"

When you come, you squeeze your eyes shut. The floor is slick with water and steam makes everything fuzzier than it needs to be. As you lift your hand from beneath the water, you grimace at the sight.

How shameful.

You settle the bath by yourself, the servants didn't need to see more than they've already heard.

Kento is waiting by his car when you step out. He drinks in the sight of you, unable to stop himself from kissing you as you come close. As usual, he opens the door for you, and you stroke the cream-coloured leather seats of his Mercedes Benz.

"Ready, (Y/N)?" He reaches over to hold your hand and you bring it to your lips before he can. He can feel the softness of your lips, the slight gloss that sticks to his skin that makes his crotch tighter than his pants liked.

"Ready, Mr Nanami." Kento chuckles, squeezing your shameful hand and bringing it to his lips next.

Suguru sits in the backseat, his dark eyes keeping themselves glued on you. You see him in reflections, in puddles, in every monotone face that walks past.

As Kento settles you on his lap, his thick cock making you feel stars and heaven itself, Suguru is still watching.

"Ken, I - "

Kento sinks his teeth into your neck and you groan. His hands are big and rough, just like Suguru said they'd be. They grope and squeeze and bruise. He grabs a handful of each cheek and your thighs are thankful for it. Kento lifts you so effortlessly it makes your desire feel unquenchable.

His strength doesn't surprise you. The gym in his apartment complex was one he frequented. If he didn't want to mingle, he had a dedicated room for working out in his home. You've seen the weights he has, how interesting was it that they were the same weight as you, (Y/N).

"(Y/N), does that feel good?" You squeeze the tip of his cockhead in reply and sink down on him to cement it. His cock keeps kissing your prostate, the drag of his dick makes you want to be keen and whine.

His hair looked good when it was dishevelled, which makes his jaw sharper and his nose makes you want to grind on it. Kento shifts and moves to lay you down on his pillows. Your legs wrap around his waist and twist.

The aching muscles hiss in protest but the lust that flows through you overcomes it.

"(Y/N)..."

Kento tries to sit up but your hands on his chest keep him down.

"(Y/N)".

"Kento."

Suguru traces his jaw and it's no surprise Kento does not react. He grips at your waist, whispering your name again. You pin his arms next to his head and Kento's eyes widen.

There it is. That darkness that takes over that molten brown. It only reflects you. Suguru is peering over your shoulder, his hands circling your neck as his dark tongue licks your cheek.

"You want what I want, Ken," you murmur against his lips. "To come undone by each other's hands, to devour each other, to be one."

"Yes," he breathes out. "Then let me feel you like this," you brought his hands to your waist once again, and he planted his heels into his mattress.

"I want to see you unravel under me, Kento. I want to see you, all of you, just as you do."

He nods and you grant him a kiss, allowing your tongues to dance.

"Do you intend to keep following me forever?"

Kento's balcony is unexpectedly warm. You can smell the breakfast he's making as you nurse your cup of tea. For your throat, he tells you.

How pervertedly kind.

The crow tilts its head and you narrow your eyes at it. "They must've paid a heavy sum. Or was it my stepmother?" It flaps its wings, preening the under feathers. Lifting your hand, you press your pointer and middle finger together. It squawks, hopping as it flaps its wings again.

"I'll pay you more to leave me alone. My ex-husband has left a hefty fortune for me. If this persists, I won't hesitate to wipe the floor with you, Mei-Mei."

The crow squawks again but turns its head to leave.

A crisping feather floats gently down onto the floor of the balcony. By the time Kento walks over to place the tray of food down on the table, it turns to nothing but ash in the wind.

"You spoil me," your legs are over his lap and he brings those hands to massage them. "You spoiled me," he answers. "Just showing my appreciation."

A group of crows flies past but Kento is cutting up your food and moving to feed you. Your cheeks burn, you open your mouth and Kento's gentle grin makes your heart race.

"I don't recall him having a temper, are the rumours true?"

Mei-Mei had better things to do. Her time was worth more than stalking someone's ex-lover. However, the head of the Gojo clan was a generous man. How could she refuse?

"Do you truly make them go insane?" He can hear her smile from over the phone. "He attacked you?" Satoru rolls his ring over his knuckles and between his fingers. The classroom was empty as the students trained on the field.

"He's committed arson against a servant who was trading secrets with Lady (L/N) and now he's burned a crow into nothing but dust. He even offered to pay more than you have. What a lucky man he is to have divorced from an endless fountain of wealth."

"Yeah? Maybe you should try that instead of chasing after green."

"Careful, Gojo. I still have my pride."

He places the ring on his palm, curling his fingers over it.

"Kento and him make a handsome couple. I almost feel jealous." Satoru would be stupid to believe Mei-Mei trusted that this stalking was him feeling possessive. She wasn't an idiot. He was concerned about you. Your grandiose act of nearly burning your father alive was the talk of the town.

The evidence of it being self-defense was backed up by the cameras in your home (the ones that hadn't melted anyway).

But it was too convenient.

Satoru is a man who is filled with memories. As careless and crass as he portrays himself as, he's sentimental. He slips a hand into his pocket and your ring is accompanied by Suguru's button.

The cameras were damaged enough to make it out as if it was just saved by fate. But Satoru knows your flames better than most. It burns everything. Devours with a hunger that no beast could compete with. It's indiscriminate. Which is why your aim is immaculate.

If it hadn't melted, you wouldn't be as free as you are now. Even in your rage and fear, you were careful to ensure your longevity.

"I'm sure you do."

"The divorce barely made a dent?"

"You already know the answer to that. Make sure he doesn't suspect me, I'll pay double."

"And if he faces me?"

Satoru grits his teeth together.

"Run."

Kiyotaka waits for him at the front of the school, that usual sour-puckered face and obscene politeness manages to elicit a grin from Satoru. The drive to the house on the hill is filled with silence, which is for the best seeing as how tightly wound he was.

Kiyotaka knew divorce could put people on edge but seeing Satoru’s fists tremble on his lap, knuckles nearly turning bone white and all, terrified him.

The gates are opened after Satoru rolls down his windows. He should ask why they were here but his instincts knew better.

“I’ll be out in an hour or so. You don’t mind waiting, do ya’?”

“Of course not, Mr Gojo.”

He smiles, giving Kiyotaka a firm squeeze on his shoulder before walking inside the modern home. Its grey colours looked atrocious against the vibrant greens of nature. Ah, Satoru was glad you had better tastes compared to the rest of your family.

Your stepmother waits for him in the living room. The carpet before her is littered with toys of all sorts. The youngest of the family takes a liking to smash some toy cars together while the others were most likely tended to by their governess.

“Mr Gojo,” she stands with a certain air of grace that prickles his skin. He nods politely her way.

"Is he doing better today?" The machines that they've hooked him to made him resemble a sick science experiment. Perhaps it's poetic justice from his late wife. The curtains were drawn and the only light was dim to ensure his skin wasn't exposed to any more unnecessary heat. There were talisman papers pasted on the walls and ceilings which Satoru thinks is entirely too much.

"Have you..."

The exposed split of bandages reveals nothing more than charred flesh and peeling skin. A hint of bone and muscle too that help him speak. Satoru ignores the hazmat suits, stepping through the heavy plastic curtains. His infinity wouldn't bring any harmful germs into this room, never had so far too.

"Leave." His wife commands in that shrill voice.

The doctors and attendants bow deeply and the door closes behind her. She sits close to the wall, outside the curtain.

"Have I?" There's writing on the bandages. Sutras are written in some sort of special ink that emits curse energy.

"killed (Y/N)." He sighs, crossing his arms as he spreads his legs.

"My son-in-law — " It might be cruel to tune out the words of a man who's half-dead, but Satoru cannot believe he's spouting this again. A part of him wished you had burnt through his throat. Satoru sighs loudly, tossing his head back and scrunching his face.

"Old man, the divorce papers have been signed. I haven't been your son-in-law in a whole month."

Between this and your increasingly violent tendencies that Mei-Mei keeps reporting back, those curses spirits working together popping up, Itadori Yuji's attempted assassination (and the mysterious way he rose from the dead...) — Satoru was in no mood.

He does not agree with your decision to commit attempted murder. But make no mistake, he fully believed the bastard deserved it.

"You keep telling me to kill him. I shouldn't have to say this, but you do know in the decade Geto Suguru was gallivanting around, I did nothing because he was dear to me. (Y/N) is dear to me. I'll wait 50 fucking decades before I lay a hand on him."

"You dare curse at my lord husband?" Satoru glances at her from over his shoulder. That distorted reflection makes her look more attractive than she actually is. "Lord of what? Gauze and morphine? If we're doing a dick-measuring contest, I win. Sit down. Your voice is annoying."

She sputters, mouth opening again. So Satoru tilts his head, flexing his fingers as he clicks his tongue.

"Woman." The ' lord ' croaks out. She watches him raise a hand, shaky fingers flicking outwards and Satoru swears steam nearly shoots out from her ears. The door has a soft-close feature which makes her attempt at slamming it void but it brings a smile to Satoru's face.

"The rumours, of my clan."

Now that was far more interesting for Satoru. His silence is a prompt for the man to continue. A sharp intake of breath comes in quick twos and threes as his bandaged hands squeeze the trigger for the drip of morphine.

Then his shoulders sink into the mattress and he speaks.

"The Binding Vow we've broken. The karma we faced since then...I think, I fear, I..."

Satoru feels his ring heat up against his sternum, so he leans forward and it's cradled by the button of his shirt.

"I fear he's paid the price, wholly, his self-righteous pain...he's balanced the scales..."

"I messed up."

The chattering of the skulls at least fills silence. Satoru can see why it'll quickly become a nuisance that will make his ears shrivel in disdain but for now, he finds it better than nothing. Whatever it is underneath him pokes him and shifts against his clothes.

Slipping a digit under the rim of his blindfold, Satoru tugs on it and exhales through his nose.

"Things are not looking good."

"Yo, Satoru."

The weight of the blindfold rests over his eyelids and Satoru sinks into the mass below him.

"I'd kill him a thousand times if I could, Satoru."

' Would you really, my beloved? ' Satoru's lips twitch into a grin. No, you wouldn't. Maybe in the moment, that night fuelled by fear and anger. The morning after when your pain still pulsed under ripped-open skin; but he knew you, his beloved, his darling friend; his (Y/N). Your father was nothing but a frail man who knew nothing of what he spoke of.

You'd be safe, protected, and cared for regardless of who you lay with or whose heart you hold. Kento be damned. You were his first and his always. Suguru's corpse was a jarring sight. A painful one too. He'd bury him properly, his love for him will join him in that new grave. His love for you will haunt him for as long as you walk this earth.

He unbuttons his outerwear, tugging on the silver chain until he unclasps it. The blue gem twinkles sweetly his way and he slips it on his finger where his skin all but sighs in comfort.

"Well, there'll always be a way. I'm counting on you, everyone." "Sealed...?"

Kento moves forward and you stare at his frame as he does. Megumi's head swivels to follow him and Ino's as well, they walk in step with him but you stand there in shock.

"Move," Suguru whispers to you. The joints of his fingers dig into your back as his hair curtains your peripheral field of vision. "(Y/N). Move."

"(Y/N)?" Ino's voice causes the group to pause. Their eyes are expectant. Megumi wonders why he cannot pinpoint the flickering emotions on your face while Kento's gaze takes note of your trembling hands.

"NA-NA-MIN!"

His touch shocks cause your pupils to jitter into focus. Kento says nothing, simply squeezing your forearm as he whispers your name.

"If they sealed him, our top priority will be undoing that."

"You know this, (nickname)," Suguru bites, the click of his teeth sending shivers down your spine. "(Y/N) — " You move past Kento, curling your fingers into fists and feeling Suguru thread him through yours.

"Let's be quick about it then."

This feeling...

"It's like that day," Suguru croaks, "the day he died. Your heart is beating so fast. Do you still ____ him, (Y/N)? Do you truly?"

"Why is he off limits?" Geto does that serene smile that makes Jogo simmer in annoyance. "Jogo, you can't kill everyone you see in battle. There's some grace in keeping a certain few alive."

"Will he be used as a hostage to make Gojo Satoru fall in despair?" his words humour Geto, truly amuses him. Mahito lifts his head from the ground, leaning on the heels of his hand as he peers at the two of them.

"Man, Jogo. You really are wicked," Geto peers at the shimmering scales of the curses that lurk within the waters.

"He's not for Gojo Satoru's imprisonment."

"Don't keep us in the dark, Geto," Mahito voices out Jogo's thoughts, his mismatched eyes impatient.

"Gojo (Y/N) is for..."

You yell as the eel tightens its body around you, digging your heels into the sand as Dagon summons it to themselves. The force of it makes your back bow and no amount of strength could stop it. Dagon holds the back of your skull and you hear Megumi yell out for you.

"(Y/N)!" Kento takes several steps forward and Maki grits her teeth.

Naobito focuses his gaze on their escape, knowing that they would be able to help the poor fool if they were outside of the domain.

But then.

"That man — " Dagon pulls you to its chest and your eyes widen as Fushiguro Toji appears before you. His eyes, it must be some sort of sorcery cast, a trick, a body double. Your fear recognizes you. He shifts his gaze to meet yours and there's a smirk on his face.

"Still alive, are you, freak?" The cursed weapon in his hand rattles in the air and then straightens. He aims it right at you and you brace yourself for the pain.

Dagon blocks it at the cost of its hand.

' It's protecting me!? ' You grunt at the blood that sprays onto your face and into your mouth, coughing as Dagon tries to fight Toji.

"Hah? Did you leave your husband for this thing?" The eel that held you disappeared into nothing after the barrage of hits he had laid out. Dagon tries to grab you but you engulf your fists into flames and spin to punch its face. Dagon does not let you escape but Toji is running toward you again so you plant your heel into its head, kicking off from its chest to fall right into the waters.

Kento catches you in his arms, and the tension of the surface breaks with monstrous sea beasts that try to land a hit on Toji. With his arms occupied, he relies on you to deter them as he makes his way back to Megumi's simple domain.

Megumi —

You stare at him as he asks you if you're alright.

Megumi, you should tell him who this man was. You should —

Dagon is exorcised.

The ground beneath you disappears. It takes a second too long for you to catch your bearings. Brain rattled and breathe knocked out of you as peel yourself off the ground. Kento, Maki, Naobito —

"Megumi!?" Kento helps you up and you take a step forward to follow the sounds of destruction but the air grows thick.

Satoru was never an artist. The horrendous rendition of the curses that attacked him the same night your father had looked as though it'd been drawn by kindergartners. But it was unmistakably him.

The disaster curse. Bald and one-eyed.

His fire makes the water on your skin steam into the air. He removes Naobito, and you move to protect Maki by getting between them. Barely in time, she still crumples to the floor but she would live if taken to Shoko quick enough. His eye widens as you stand unscathed, your clothes flaking off like snow as your skin reddens and steams.

"Gojo (Y/N)."

"Divine Flame."

He lifts his hand just as you do.

"Do not let him use his curse technique, Jogo. He's not as strong as Satoru, but you'll thank me," Geto's voice coos.

"God's Bl — "

"Kuantan?" he sets down the rest of the breakfast he made. His home is as neat and crisp as he is — though there are still traces of himself. His hopes especially. The mountain of books, the pamphlets about Malaysia here and there. If you peered into his room, Kento had even laid out a few notes of plans he hoped to fulfill. It was as if he was waiting for the perfect moment, lying in wait.

"The beaches are nice. The food as well," he sits across from you and pauses as you pat the spot next to you. Endeared, Kento settles where you ask. "Perhaps after Megumi graduates to a second year," he stays silent for a moment and watches you eat.

"...Would you resent me for not marrying you until I retire?"

You pause mid-chew, blinking at him for a moment. Then you turn your gaze on the plate, eyes trailing after the dew drop of water on the lettuce.

"I won't if you do not regret marrying someone from a sorcerer clan."

He pinches the lobe of your ear gently, tracing the shell with so much fondness he chuckles as it warms under his touch. It was damn near perverted how he did it — your heart races as he turns your face his way.

"I could never regret being yours, (Y/N)."

That memory burst into flames. His house, his books, his hopes, and his dreams. Jogo stands there in the ashes and he smiles at you with those blackened teeth.

"(nickname)," Suguru whispers. Your trembling hands stiffen as he strokes the insides of your wrists, his empty gaze reflecting you as he stands in front of you. "Balance the scales."

"Gojo (Y/N)!" Jogo exclaims proudly. "Y — !"

Jogo barely had time to react to your kick. Bursting through windows and walls. He digs his fingers into the floor and just as he lifts his head he sees your shadowed face. Your pupils were nothing but a speck of (E/C) on white as smoke slithers between your lips.

"Divine Flame — "

A spear pierces through your stomach. Jogo covers his eye just in time before your blood splatters on it. Breathing through your nose, you grasp at the crimson-soaked spear, eyes widening as you take in the details of it.

"Impossible," you turn to look and it's there. Satoru had let you name it this time, among the Fredericks and other silly names he dubbed Suguru's curses as this one was the one you named.

"Togatta?" It does not give any sign of recognition but there was no mistake.

Jogo's fist makes contact with your chest and you choke, coughing up spit and blood before he lands a final blow on the back of your neck.

The puddle of blood grows next to him. Those stupid girls, demanding things of Ryomen Sukuna, threatened to fight him with no plan nor strength. Humans were really something else.

Jogo waits for Ryomen to ask and then and only then he tells him he didn't want anything but Ryomen's freedom. Sukuna's crimson eyes take interest in the cursed object Jogo has slung around his neck; a dark shard of glass that pulses a steadily beating blue within it.

"Ten fingers and what's mine?" He looked beyond pleased.

"You've outdone yourselves." Jogo gulps, unbinding the rope around his neck and using both hands to present it to Sukuna. He takes it after a particularly gentle stroke of the sharp edges, then places it in his pockets.

"Ryomen Sukuna?" Geto nods assuredly. The rolling waves melting into the sand give leeway for Jogo and Mahito to process his words. What could Ryomen Sukuna find useful in Gojo (Y/N)? He was a Grade 1 sorcerer but he was not like his husband.

"His family line, the (L/N) clan, is a disgraced one. All the men are weak, all the women dimwitted and the children cursed. Sorcerer society looks at them in disdain, calling them desperate and thieving. It was the child from the (L/N) clan that made it possible for Ryomen Sukuna to be sealed. A son with a curse technique so strong and a face so beautiful, Ryomen Sukuna took him as his property. He had forced the boy into a Binding Vow — one the boy broke to defeat Ryomen Sukuna."

"It left the clan with nothing but shame. The Gods inflict karma on generations to come even if the Vow was wicked beyond belief. Sorcerer society rejected them and curled their noses at the clan that saved them from extinction. I still remember that boy's face."

Geto chuckles, leaning back in his seat as he closes his eyes.

"Mahito, do you think a soul ever comes back in a new body?"

Reincarnation or divine coincidence.

Jogo does not ponder on the question. All he knows is that giving Sukuna an ancestor of the boy whom he favoured, whom he made into a treasured concubine, pleased him.

"This is your reward for the fingers. Come at me. If you manage to land even a single blow on me, I'll work under you all."

Megumi is still leaning against the shutter doors. The shinigami he released, it's a beast that Sukuna had never had the pleasure of seeing before he was locked away. Placing his hand over Megumi's chest, he heals the wounds to ensure Megumi is no longer on the precipice of death and darts his eyes toward the rope that sticks out from his pockets.

He slips the shard into Megumi's hand, recalling how fond you were of the boy. How perfect. This world — this era, truly was made for him. Everything would be his. Men, women, and children — all for him to devour indiscriminately.

With Uraume and (Y/N) with him, this age of haughty sorcerers with abilities he'd never seen, ah. His mouth waters from the very thought. Once he obtains Fushiguro Megumi's body. Once you submit to him. Once he kills Gojo Satoru. Once he destroys Itadori Yuji into nothing.

"Na..."

The sight before him, it made his stomach twist into knots again and again and again...

Kento sees himself in Yū's eyes, he points to Yuji and Kento can't bring himself to say anything to the boy.

"Nanamin..."

The nickname makes his heart squeeze in relief. That youth that he wants to protect, is still there in his final moments and that alone would have made Kento die without regrets — but he's lying to himself.

He made a promise to you to return to your side. You did not ask him to say "alive" because just having a body to bury is a miracle in your world. (Y/N), he saw that stubborn strife in your eyes even as you nodded.

Too little time spent with you. Those 2 months of pure love with you, it would never be enough but he cherishes them all the same. He hopes you can tolerate this pain — he never wished for you to go through this before him, (Y/N).

He should have introduced you to his family.

He should have kissed you deeply before tonight began.

He should have given you everything you deserved.

Ah, regret truly is the worst feeling in the world.

He wants to take care of you like he promised to, (Y/N).

What could he say to Yuji to make him understand what this means?

Mahito's curse energy was enveloping his soul and Kento used the bit of strength he had left to ensure Yuji would not be the one to kill his transfigured corpse. The least he could do, this cruel kindness... "I'll leave the rest to you."

"My husband."

Shoko pauses. Satoru is not looking her way, instead, staring at the ceiling with a bored expression.

"He did not greet me," she's glad that he does not see the way she clenches the box of cigarettes in her pocket. Or maybe he does because he straightens his composure and asks;

"Is he still pissed at me or is he dead?"

"....We don't know, Satoru." His nose curls in distaste. Still, he waits for her to continue.

"Nobody has seen him and there's no time nor resources to sift through the rubble of Shibuya to find him. The last person to have seen him alive was Maki, she says that he was against the onne-eyed disaster curse."

"He'd have no trouble exorcising that baldy." Satoru is being too kind, you would struggle but you'd still win. He was sure of it. Then again, your abilities were too similar — a tie maybe? You had more wit, you'd win.

Or is that denial talking?

"Nanami died by Mahito's hand," Shoko pulls the box out and tosses it aside as he takes out the final cigarette. "Does he know that?"

"Maybe he's already with Nanami."

"Shoko."

"All of you are dropping like flies around me. Was there an invite I was never given?" She doesn't cry but Satoru stands to walk towards her anyway.

"Yū, Suguru, Kento, (Y/N)," she allows him to hold her shoulder and pull her in but does not return the affection. Should she? Would this be the final memory of Gojo Satoru she had?

"He isn't dead." Satoru pulls away after a long minute. The smile on his face makes her hopes soar and Shoko doesn't understand why she can't force it down.

"I can feel it. He's still here. Don't host a funeral just yet, yeah?"

"You're way too cocky, do you know that?"

"I have every right to be."

"Mr Gojo." Satoru wonders what Yuji would say to him. He wonders where the scars come from, when his eyes had ever been so dull or hardened, he wonders if Yuji will bounce back from everything; if he'll regret being so selfless in the first place.

"Itadori," he braces his arm on his hips, and Yuji's shoulder droops.

"Mr (Y/N), Nanamin...he said he'd leave it to me. You told Ms Ieiri that you had a feeling he was alive."

"Eavesdropping, Itadori?" Yuji's laughs as Satoru slings an arm around his shoulder, attempting to escape his hand that is ruffling his hair.

"Aah, Mr Gojo, quit it!" Satoru settles with a few more chuckles so Yuji continues. "When everything settles, could you help me fulfill Nanamin's wish?"

"Yuji."

Satoru smiles brightly, squeezing Yuji close as he ruffles the back of his head.

"You leave (Y/N) to me."

"Does this form please you more?"

Your eyes can't take themselves off the sight before you. Satoru — no, his corpse. What a strange string of words.

Satoru's corpse.

It's too unreal. Those words do not belong to one another. He grasps the back of your head and forces it to face him. You can't decide what is worse; when you wake to Megumi's face twisted in a cruel expression, finding out Tsumiki was being used as a vessel, being shown Kento's death on replay through Sukuna's/Yuji's memory of the moment, or this monstrous being before you with Satoru's corpse behind you.

"My, my, my, don't tempt me," Sukuna does not let you squirm. His four hands held you firmly within his grasp as you wept.

"I truly am delighted your bloodline prevailed. The betrayal should be punished with death but, seeing you again, I'll not make the same mistake twice."

The binding vow that was made with your ancestor, one that made Sukuna keep the flame technique within his grasp and your ancestor in the other. Breaking it left your bloodline with a technique meant to be used only after mastering the innate technique — to put it simply, it was akin to making someone tame a pack of rabid wolves before they even potty-trained a puppy. It was no wonder you were all so weak.

"Keeping such a trump card of a technique hidden from me, how shrewd."

Yuji cannot believe it. Everything was moving too fast. Gojo Satoru was dead, and the era of sorcerers was coming to an end as reality settled in the bones of curses and sorcerers alike. But then, you're there.

Apparated out of thin air — no. The necklace around Sukuna's neck. You were kept there, did you spectate everything? The entire fight? Every person Sukuna had killed —

They had tried their best to look for you and you'd just been there, hidden in plain fucking sight.

Suguru is in your peripheral, you blink and you swear you feel your mind break as he loops his arms around Satoru's corpse. Another blink and Kento and Yū appear, pale and rotten and burnt and dead.

"I'm going to fucking kill you!" His eyes are filled with nothing but amusement as you will yourself out of his grasp, your foot making contact with his face as you kick yourself off from it.

The rubble stings your bare feet as you dig your heels into the ground, your dark flames eating away at the sleeves of the silken garments his loyal servant, Uruame, had dressed you in. Feeling its weight disappear fuels you with more ire than you ever thought you'd ever feel.

This man, this monster, had taken everything from you. Even if it kills you, even if you end up burning the entire world into ash and cinder — nothing matters anymore.

Your mother, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Megumi —

Heaven and Hell will rue the day they took them. The Gods have created a new monster in the form of you and Yuji shudders at the empty look in your eyes.

What had you gone through in the months you were gone? The garments you wore were that of highly respected concubines, heavy and silken and patterned.

What had Sukuna done to you? Had he taken the very essence of your soul and ripped it to pieces just like he had done with him?

Kento's words echo in his mind, and Satoru's face appears with a blink. He needed to step in and save you — from yourself and from Sukuna's grasp. His two mentors, he can't let them down, he can't. You were precious to Megumi, to Tsumiki from what Megumi had once told him. Satoru looks at you with such a warm aura, that Kento always threatens to smile when he even mentions you.

Desperation pumps through Yuji's body and he feels his nails elongate, giving it a quick glance before spotting Kashimo descending from the sky.

Sukuna's laughter booms throughout the empty planes and echoes around the destroyed buildings. The very earth shakes with each inhale.

"You truly haven't changed, my concubine! Come! Let's go insane together!"

#s3thwrit3sstuff #reader insert #male reader #gay reader #male reader insert #male!reader #satoru gojo x yn #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x male reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x male reader

[wannaeatramyeon]

Can we get lookism boys seeing their s/o for the first time?

Literally love at first sight and maybe their reactions?

Thanks,

Thanks for the ask! I've written a few slightly more fleshed out 'Meeting for the First Time' listed here (Gun, Goo, Jake, Johan). But let's do some other scenario for my usual suspects.

Umm...I actually really dislike the love at first sight trope. But I do like the double-take at first meeting trope, yknow what I'm saying? Here's a mix of everything!

Love at First Sight Double-Take at First-ish Meeting: Gun, Goo, Jake, Sammy, Vin + Taehoon!

Gun Park - Ultra Instinct

Gun is not ashamed to admit that it was the sashay of your hips that turned his head at first. He is a hot blooded male after all.

And then when you whirled around, asking "See something you like?"with a confident smirk and your own jet-black eyes staring back, moments before landing a throat punch.

Well. Gun is a goner. Head over heels, lying-awake-thinking-of-you obsessed.

Maybe he should have gotten a name. But two UI users meeting each other can't just be a coincidence, he must be destined to see you again.

Who would have thought Gun Park would believe in something as ridiculous as fate.

.

.

Goo Kim - Reflection

Goo detested you on first meeting. How can such a pretty face have so much venom.

All double-edged and saccharine, nothing to be taken at face value. You even had the audacity to ask if the weapon wielding was compensating for something.

And to add insult to injury, Gun had laughed. Goo didn't even realise Gun was capable of such emotion.

Ugh. Goo does not like having a taste of his own medicine.

As the day dragged on, Goo's obsession grew. It really was like looking into a mirror. Sure this reflection isn't as sexy as his usual. But. It's still pretty sexy nonetheless.

Huh, he wanders the corridors with a sly grin, wondering about you, Let's see how well you can keep up with me.

.

.

Jake Kim - Business Unit for Rent

Jake, for some bizarre reason relegated to realtor duties, shows you around the business unit. A long empty store that, fingers crossed, after today would no longer be a drain on the finances.

"All this can be yours for 2 million won a month," he flashes his most dazzling smile. Charming and toothy that he knows few could resist.

Unfortunately, it is completely missed by you as you continue casting an astute eye over the premises.

"Ah look at the state of this. The ventilation system is awful."

Jake blinks, looking at whatever the hell you're pointing at. "It is?"

"And the walls! It'll need plastering and floors completely redone."

"Um. Maybe it has been a while since-"

"I heard the footfall is terrible here. Constantly declining. 23% down on last year?"

Your sharp eyes peer into his and he freezes. Where the hell did you even get those stats? Not even Lua or Jason would know this.

"Well..." he scratches the back of his head, thinking of what to say.

Half an hour later, after a whirlwind of complaints and pointing out flaws, you've signed a 12 month contract for less than half the initial asking price.

Shit, Jake thinks, Jason is going to kill me. Actually... Fuck. This unit had been recently renovated to attract potential renters. And footfall figures? Must be plucked out of thin air.

You completely twisted his arm with your bullshit.

Jake can't even bring himself to be mad, he's impressed. Who the hell are you? He's looking forward to seeing more of you and your smart mouth.

.

.

Samuel Seo - Tattoos (let's ignore the timelines here)

Not many people pass Samuel's exacting standard on first meeting, but you do He's frankly impressed with your work.

Someone similar to his age yet already amassing an impressive portfolio with impeccable linework and pristine colouring. No wonder you're booked out for months.

"So," your hands graze over his pecs, all strictly business yet his skin prickles at your touch. "You're thinking of your first tattoo here?"

"Yes."

"Cool, and you want it to eventually be a Sak Yant full body?" He nods. "Ok, it's going to take a while and quite a few sessions."

You give him a smile that leaves his throat dry. "Guess we're going to see a lot of each other."

.

.

Vin Jin - My name

Vin holds out his phone and with his most charming smirk, asks for your number.

"Sure," you fold your arms, showing no intention of reaching for the device, "You can have my number if you tell me my name."

"What?"

"I'm waiting," And now it's your turn to plaster on your smirk.

Fuck, who the hell do you think you are. Vin storms into the corridor, ego bruised and mood soured. Ugh, whatever. He has plenty of chicks interested anyway. He doesn't need to-

The lightbulb goes off over his head. Mary must know. She knows goddamn everything going on in this school.

Vin dashes off in search for her, thoughts from seconds ago already completely erased and giddy at the thought of finally getting your name and your number.

.

.

Seong Taehoon - Taekwondo

The first oddity is having someone your age show up for their first lesson. Then it turns out it's not your first.

The second oddity is when Taehoon tells you to show him what you got, you execute a perfect 1080 kick.

The last oddity, which really shouldn't be an oddity at all for Taehoon's ego, is that you are a fan of his from his UFC days and you think Taekwondo is the best.

Damn. And all that punctuated with a perfect 90 degree bow and 'Master Seong' too.

If that isn't the perfect way to worm yourself under his skin. Taehoon's going to be keeping an eye on you.

#lookism #lookism x reader #gun park x reader #goo kim x reader #samuel seo x reader #jake kim x reader #vin jin x reader #seong taehoon x reader #seong taehun x reader #taehoon x reader #how to fight x reader #viral hit x reader #wannaeatramyeon

[venturelovebot]

A/N: It's the sequel to part one! I've been feeling kinda down lately so i made this one extra fluffy and special for everyone out there going through a rough time as well. I hope y'all enjoy! Writing this gave me so much serotonin! ( ´͈ ◡ `͈ )

Premise: G/N!insecure!reader draws a new tattoo for their crush teehee,,, just trust me when I say it's pure cotton candy fluff!!!

Warnings: None! Pure fluff!

"It'll be okay. Just call me if you need help." Illari turns away from you and opens the door.

You gulp softly as she turns the knob. At the door was your date– just as cute as the day you first saw them. A gentle pink lights up your cheeks and you feel yourself involuntarily begin to smile.

"Y/N! Didn't think you'd be here!" Sloane jokes, taking a seat across from you on the floor.

You both now sit facing your coffee table with traditional art supplies scattered about on its surface.

"I guess I could say the same for you." You reply awkwardly, unsure if it was the proper thing to say or not. Your circuits are fried from anxiety.

"Please, I'm not that bad!" Sloane laughs lightly. "I may of slept in but I wouldn't want to miss a first date!"

First date... it feels unreal.

Illari locks the door behind her before you're both left alone. In the distance you can hear the thunder rumbling from an oncoming storm... it's the only noise you can hear besides the deafening silence.

"I-I can turn on a movie if you want!" You offer, "Or maybe some music if you prefer?"

"Music sounds good! What do you like to listen to anyway?" They ask, taking a peak at your phone.

"Oh– mostly [favorite genre]. It helps me focus when I'm drawing." You tap on your work playlist and set your phone aside.

"I can dig that!"

The atmosphere begins to lighten and you exhale inaudibly. Your fingers glaze over your drawing supplies before you pick up a blue pencil for sketching outlines. Sloane sits across from you with their eyes glued on your movement.

"So... did you decide on what you wanted for your tattoo yet?" You ask.

Sloane takes out their phone and lays it down on the table. They show you a picture of a skull adorned with a ceramic flower crown that appeared to be on display in a museum somewhere.

"Last year I got to visit this archeological museum in Greece. I thought this was so cool!" They explain. You take a good look at it.

Immediately you begin by tracing a circle and sketching out the guide lines. Slowly you begin adding more details. First one socket, then two. The nose was third. Last came the mouth and teeth.

"Wow. That didn't take long at all..." Sloane slides over to your side to get a better look. You feel your face warm up as their knee gently touches yours.

"It's just the rough draft. We still have a lot of work to do." You lay the paper back down on the table. "We still need to decide on the flowers."

"Hmm... well, what're your favorite flowers?"

"My favorites? Why mine? This is your tattoo. It should be your favorite flowers."

There was a moment of silence as the two of you thought together. Another rumble of thunder in the distance as the sunset was covered up in a blanket of gray clouds.

"What about chrysanthemums? You said you saw this skull in Greece. Chrysanthemums are very popular there." You begin to sketch out the flowers along the top of the skull.

Sloane watches as your drawing slowly began to come together. Your fingers moved elegantly across the paper as you added more and more detail to your sketch. There was something fascinating about the way you did things that had them utterly engrossed with the whole process. Anyone else could do the same thing and it would bore them to tears– but not you. Something about you was different. Their heart softly pounded in their chest as you steadily continued your work.

"There. What do you think of it so far?" You ask, handing them the paper again.

There were no words. The silence from them made you anxious.

"You don't like it?" You frowned and bit your lip realizing you probably shouldn't have said that.

"It's beautiful. Of course I like it–" Sloane's face flushed from nervousness. "No, that's not true... I love it! You're crazy talented!"

You couldn't help but laugh. Sloane's gentle pink face turned bright vermillion– they had never been more flustered in front of another human being before. Not in a long time.

"I mean that!"

You tuck some of your hair behind your ear and glance away.

"I believe you. I've just never seen you so red before."

They place their hand on their face in an attempt to hide themself. "I–" They stop talking before they can embarrass themself further.

"Hm?" You teased them by poking their cheek. You simply couldn't help yourself this time.

Then you're caught by complete surprise when Sloane brings their hand to cup yours and place it on their warm face. Their other hand moves from their mouth and they look at you in complete seriousness.

"I mean it– you're different. I haven't ever felt like this before. It's weird– I love to talk to you. I love spending time with you. You're talented and interesting in every way–" They pause for a moment.

All is still. The only sound is the soft music playing in the background and the soft pattering of rain against the nearby windows.

"I mean it! I... I like you, okay? I mean it." They confess.

"Oh." Your faces now share the same flustered red. "Wow."

"Well... I fucked up, huh...?" Their hand begins to move away from yours.

You cup their face with your other hand and move in closer. Before you could think you press your lips up against theirs and kiss them. It feels like an eternity passes before you slowly pull away.

"C-can you do that again?" Sloane's voice cracks. Their smile lights up their entire face.

You do as they ask and kiss them again.

"One more time...?" They beg.

You kiss them one more time before the two of you separate for good. Afterwards you couldn't help but glance at the floor in embarrassment as the shame hit you all at once.

"Thanks." Is the only thing they can muster.

"Please don't tell Illari, she'll never let this go." You plead.

"I won't tell if you don't." Sloane smirks, still trying to recover from the whole ordeal.

"Then... umm... let's get back to it."

"To what?" Their heart begins to pound again.

"To the tattoo."

"Oh. Yeah. That." They exhale softly in both relief and disappointment. They made a mental note to ask for more kisses in the future.

You begin the slow and arduous clean up process. You're extra careful to brush off loose eraser rubber in a way that doesn't disturb the rest of the drawing. Outlining with ink proved more difficult than usual as your hands noticeably shook from all of the excitement. You made sure every line was neat and fluid before scanning the drawing into your laptop for back up.

Neither of you talked for the remainder of the process, but the silence was a comfortable one this time. Outside the rain had steadily turned into a light drizzle.

"Do you want to color it with me? You can choose the colors, obviously."

"Would I?!" Sloane grinned before catching themself. "I mean... I would love to!" They add. They couldn't help but cringe internally from being so awkward.

"You're so cute," you smile. "I mean it." You echo the sentiment that was given to you earlier.

"Aww... stop it! You're making me blush!" They grab the black color pencil and get to work coloring before they face further embarrassment.

"That's the point." You tease them gently before joining them.

The two of you color in silence before Sloane grabs the yellow color pencil. They look back up at you.

"Say, Y/N, what's your favorite color?" They ask.

"Oh. Probably [favorite color]. Why?"

"I want to do our favorite colors for the flowers."

You smile... but only for a moment. "Are you sure, though? Not to be a downer but what if you regret it in a couple years? Or meet someone else? Or get tired of me?" You frown just thinking about it.

They grow serious for a moment. You're afraid you made them angry from the expression on their face.

"Y/N. I need you to remember this when I say it now, okay?" Sloane says.

You nod nervously.

"Nothing could ever make me regret this. Nothing could ever make me regret spending time with you tonight. Nobody could ever come close to making me feel as safe and welcome as you do."

You exchange glances with them for some time afterwards. The words linger in the air and you feel your heart fluttering as they reach out and hold your hand.

"I want to spend a lot more time with you. Not just tonight. I want to see you again. And again. And again. I never want to stop seeing you, actually." They swallow their nervousness harshly before continuing. "I want to wake up next to you someday. I want to make history together with you. I want people to see our bones in thousands of years and know that I loved spending time with you. Does that answer your questions?"

You're left absolutely speechless.

They grin. "I know I said I wanted to be a mummy but it's not worth it if we can't be in the same tomb together. You know what I mean?"

All at once you feel hot tears spilling out on your cheeks like a broken dam. Your arms wrap around Sloane and you bury your face into their chest. "Oh my God!" You cry, and they wrap their arms around you in support. They softly rub your back as you continue to helplessly sob into their shirt.

"Just like Pylades said. It's not rotten work if it's you." They quote.

The rain continues drizzling outside. All is quiet once more as they pull you into the most comforting hug you've ever been given in your entire life.

"Come on. Let's watch a movie together." They pick you up bridal style and lay you down on the couch. "What do you want to watch?"

"Hm... can we watch [favorite movie]?" You suggest.

They nuzzle their face into yours and give you a kiss on the cheek. "Sounds good to me!"

The finished skull artwork lays unattended on the coffee table as the two of you snuggle underneath the cover of a soft blanket. They wrap themself around you carefully and nuzzle into you once again. Your head presses up against their chest and you listen quietly to their racing heart as you both gently descend into sleep.

Just outside, the rain has finally stopped.

#god help me but i might continue this... #venture x reader #venture overwatch #sloane cameron #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #overwatch fanfiction #overwatch #overwatch 2

[bengiyo]

Cherry Magic TH Ep 12 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

Last week, Achi went to a different city to help set up a new office. There, he had to work on his social skills to bond with the new staff, and succeeded through the power of his good nature and soccer. Karan and Achi stayed in touch the entire time they were separated, and Karan visited twice. Achi hesitated about coming out, but was rewarded when the new team was completely supportive and only asked about his partner so they knew who to contact. Meanwhile, Jinta talked Min into not giving up on an audition, and Min said he loved Jinta. We left on Achi losing his powers in a very satisfying bed scene and afterglow.

Achi really lucked out with Karan.

I'm so proud of Achi for managing to complete this project and earn the confidence of this team.

Ah yes, a finale. It's time to meet the parents.

Boss, don't remind me of the no dating rule.

Pai is such a supportive friend.

NOT THE BALLOONS SOUNDING LIKE GUNSHOTS

Damn, Mom, why you gotta dunk on your own son??

It's fine, she's definitely cool with it. She already put them to work and doled out advice.

I love Karan so much. This man recorded Achi expressing love in the Northern dialect, and Achi agreed so he wouldn't have to say it often.

It couldn't all be cherries on tablecloths. Looks like Karan is maintaining continuity with his Japanese counterpart's family.

Achi's mom hugging Karan is something that can be so personal.

I will never get over Jinta wearing sunglasses over his glasses.

Yes, let's model good fan behavior with the artist. They only jumped because they thought Jinta was trying to kidnap Min and then calmed down. They're even fans of Jinta's book!

Absolutely love that Karan is not withholding his feelings from Achi about how his mom might be homophobic.

AN 8 HOUR DRIVE? Are we going to Dallas???

Give that man his reward, Achi!

Welp, I knew it was too simple with Karan's mom. She very smoothly shoved them into a closet.

I'm glad it's the sister having this conversation with the mom.

She said her piece and counted to three!!!

Karan being a little brother makes so much sense every time.

Look at Tay Tawan acting. I know the mom and dad turning around so quickly is a bit unrealistic, but I like the aspirational nature of it. It could be this easy if we tried hard enough for each other.

Of course he proposed. I love this man.

You know he's had that ring ready for a while!

COME THROUGH, ACHI!! MUTUAL GAY PROPOSAL!!!

Wow, that was everything I hoped for and more out of the family stuff.

Whoa, did Jinta reveal he popped that cherry?

Oh, it's also the symbol for Min's group.

Aww, Rock has a fan!!

Pai is definitely shipping Rock and the fan.

Save the date!!

Well well well, Cherry Magic Thailand. Good job being explicit about marriage equality.

Okay, I like the reference to the pens.

I'm okay with Rock and Pai getting to date.

These two are very good at the aesthetics of an onscreen kiss.

Final Verdict: 9.5, This is Now My Default Version. I did not expect to come out on the other end of this liking the Thai version more than the Japanese live action, but here we are. Minus episode 8 (which I will pretend doesn't exist), this was perfect execution of the core premise and strong regard for the character dynamics. This show earned every moment, and managed to deliver a satisfying finale for the whole cast. It's been a long week of finales, and I like how good so many were. TayNew getting back together was not something I expected, and I'm so thrilled that they delivered such a strong outing. What a time to be a Cherry Magic fan. I'm excited to keep reporting on the anime and then talk about all three shows.

#Ben watches #cherry magic #cherry magic th #cherry magic thailand #cherry magic! thirty years of virginity can make you a wizard?! #30 sai made doutei dato mahoutsukai ni nareru rashii #thai bl #bl series

[ilovechuuy4]

Can I request hcs and a small scenorio with fyodor and a rebellious daughter reader? Like always sneaks out, talks back, gets into fights and gets terrible grades?

Why try so hard, Malyshka? ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

୨୧ Dad!Fyodor x Platonic! Rebellious Daughter ୨୧

A/N: I’m so sorry I’m not sure how long this will take when it comes out since I’m not usually doing dad!characters with kids/teenagers, but I hope you like it since I worked pretty hard on this! I feel like this would have been so much easier if there was a bit more description on how you wanted this all to go in the end! But that’s all right hope you enjoy!

Headcanons ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

• Dad!Fyodor isn't the one of get mad for his kid acting rebellious

• Dad!Fyodor would talk to his kid about why and what is wrong and why they are acting this way

• Dad!Fyodor is calm and collective, he'll let his kid ramble about/to him all they want about what's wrong

• Dad!Fyodor isnt upset but he's disappointed

• Dad!Fyodor isn't the type to ground his kid for their grades but he would discipline

Scenario୨୧꙳ᕯ

It was a typical school day for you, walking through the halls of your school, nobody else there because you decided to skip once more. The halls empty as you make your way out the school entirely. You were aware that your grades were dropping drastically but it's not like your father was telling at you for it, that you knew of.

But once you step out the school premises, you receive a call, uh oh..your father. You hesitatly answer the call as the thick Russian voice of your father's fills your right ear. "I know you aren't at school, come home now." You felt your heart sink a bit, were you really in trouble now?

You decided to make your way home just incase you were actually in trouble. And once you arrive home, you're met with a disappointed Fyodor standing in front of the front door, arms crossed. "So you finally decided to come home, y/n?" His voice was thick with disappointment as he stared at you. "Well, uhm..yea." You didn't have much to say when he confronted you.

"We need to talk, I'm highly disappointed Y/N. I told you to get your grades up and yet you still choose to disobey me and continue with your rebellious acts?" His voice was sharp when he spoke, boy were you in trouble your father wasn't ever well, this disappointment in you. I mean yes you've snuck out and caused fights but when it came to your grades you assumed your father cared more.

"Well..I just..uhm well-" You couldn't put your thoughts into words yes you were being rebellious 'nd acting on impulse but there was a reason, right.? You sigh twiddling your thumbs as you think you a second. "Well, it's just some things in the classes are difficult and they are a bit none understandable." You mutter softly, that was an obvious lie and Fyodor knitted his eyebrows together.

"Don't lie to me, Y/N. You aren't a good lier and it shows." Fyodor states, uncrossing his arms and letting them drop to his hips. "Well I thought if I did rebellious things you'd spend more time with me!" You blurt out, well it was more than the truth. Yes, you thought having the "cool" act was well, cool. But it was sorta just stupid.

"Oh Malyshka, what do you mean.?" His voice changed from disappointed to concern. "Spend more time with you? Sweetheart you know how busy I am with work but if you and just asked I would find a day I'm off." His voice was soft now, more concern than disappointment now.

"Well it's just you're always busy so I can't have the chance to talk to you. So I kinda just thought you know." You said, rubbing the back of his neck. But then you feel your father's slender frame wrapping around you in a welcoming hug.

"Why try so hard Malyshka? It's not necessary I still love you the same okay? Just be you, please quit the rebellious acts though?" He hums softly, putting a soft kiss on your hair.

#bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd fanfic #bsd x reader #bungō stray dogs #fyodor dostoevsky #dad!fyodor #bsd fanfiction #bungo stray dogs fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #platonic!reader #teenager!reader #request #fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd

[shepherds-of-haven]

Sorry if this has already been asked before, but have you ever thought about writing a sequel to SoH? I know you said it would be a stand-alone book, but I think a sequel where we explore different continents would be extremely cool. I just love these character so much and idk if I’m ready to say goodbye. I know we still have a bit left but still…

Hi there, this message has been sitting in a long queue of messages I've fallen behind on answering for a while now, but I just wanted to say thank you for taking the time to send it! It ended up being extremely thought-provoking for me, and you may have single-handedly made me reconsider my stance on a Shepherds sequel! XD

I always planned on this entry being a standalone game, though I was toying with the idea of eventually writing a sequel that follows a separate cast of characters (aka different protagonist and companions, though with room for potential cameos with the old characters). Pretty much like how Dragon Age does it! I won't go into the potential plot details now, but I was thinking it might take place sometime between 10-15 years in the future, and it would follow "a new generation" of Shepherds in a different locale. I've sort of hazily cobbled together ideas for the story/main premise, but companions outside of the main protagonist have eluded me at the moment--I really need to focus on this game, its DLC, and my next book first, so I haven't given it too much thought!

However, your comment has unearthed some feelings I've been having about a potential sequel, too! It's hard for me to feel like I'd be ready to say goodbye to the cast, as well... It's so easy for me to write them because they've been in my head for so many years, and starting an adventure in the world of Blest with different and new characters admittedly feels a bit strange. It's like having to hang back a grade while all of your friends graduate high school and then looking around at the incoming freshman class like "welp, I guess you guys are my friends now! 😒" lol. I'm torn on the issue: I don't want to not challenge myself or refuse to move out of my comfort zone as a writer--in short, I don't want to be the kind of writer who recycles the same characters and material because doing something new is daunting to me, and I don't want you all to feel like I'm making endless sequels/trying to recapture old magic and should just move on to something new, either--but I do love my cast and I'm not sure yet if I should definitively say, "No, their chapter is done with this game and it's on to the next!", because I can see so many adventures happening to them even after this story is over!

The problem lies with endings--there are so many different endings planned for this game that I hesitate in treating any of them as the true or canonical one, but otherwise trying to account for all of them in a sequel feels quite impossible to accomplish when I wasn't planning on a continuation--along with other logistical concerns that I can't get into at the moment. Like, what if you end the game with all of the Shepherds except Halek dead? What if your friend ends the game with all of them alive, but the MC is dead? This game alone is already 1 million words, but a direct sequel would probably wrack up hundreds of thousands of variations based on all of these choices in its first chapter alone! 🤔

That's why I figure DLC is the happy medium here: you can expand on or create new content and adventures for the characters, but slot them into the timeline wherever you wish, like in between Chapter 7 and 8, etc. And episodic adventures might keep things small and streamlined enough that I can update them more consistently, rather than hacking away at one giant sequel game!

Aaaaaanyway... All this is to say: I have a lot to think about! Absolutely nothing has been decided yet (not even close), but these are just some of the things I've had rattling around in my head. Thank you again for your sweet and honest words: I'm glad you're so fond of these characters and would miss them. I would, too! But whatever ends up happening, I know this game won't be the last time we see them. :)

Thanks again!

#Shepherds of Haven #sequel #FAQ #spoilers #mild #me #personal #writing #it's pretty much a dragon age vs mass effect scenario #if you know what I mean :')

[verycharismaticdragon]

Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "verycharismaticdragon "?

I'm not the best at remembering things past the hyperfix, so half of this will be SV, but I'll start at prev fandoms for variety.

Artificial Nocturne (Motorcity) - I've read this ages ago but I remember it rearranging my brain chemistry. And making me realize I had a scar kink.

An Abomination, Grand Cleric Elthina's Murderer and the Herald of Andraste walk into a Bar (Dragon Age) - it's probably abandoned but it's so good. Anders and Varric in this are so *incoherent gesturing*

intra-personal negotiation (Venom) - I don't understand why I didn't bookmark a single Venom fic even though I distinctly remember like 5 straight bangers, but thankfully I'm following this author at least ✊

deathbed (Qi Ye) - that time I was whining there were no first life JBY/ZZS fics and then! Anyway it's understandably melancholy it's also very pretty and exactly right as it should be.

the good rain knows when to fall (TYK) - you should be reading Bichen's entire discography fic collection I just remembered this one first. This one is lighthearted old foxes clowning! The author's angst and cannibalism are also top-notch 👌

Ok now to SVSSS.

Joyed to be Forlorn - THE binghe fic for me. inspired me to start digging into Luo Binghe's character in a way that resulted in Transmigrator Time Traveler, hopefully thats recommendation enough

continued - possibly THE best fic in scum villain fandom. the format alone... oh just read it, you'll see what I mean.

A Child Once - again, i could rec Tossawary's entire discography, but this one is my personal favorite. (if your fav character is SQH though, the one you want is pride is not the word I'm looking for. aka THE sqh fic.)

sweet tongues, sharp teeth - unfinished but raw enough to lodge itself in my brain despite that.

Tale Within A Tale - cute as fuck. made me kick my legs and giggle many times. ...and because once I started pulling up SV fics it was difficult to stop...

side effects (rated E) - part 2 in particular didnt have to go so hard for a fic where the premise is 'bingqiu with tentacles'

don't underestimate me (rated E) - "all for the sake of preserving biodiversity!" god shen yuan SO would be in this situation.

The Best Luo Binghe (rated E) - binggeyuan. shen yuan SO would be in this situation, take 2.

put me in, coach (rated M) - bingqiushang. so fucking funny okay i love it so much

from your knees (rated E) - bingjiu. they're so rancid in this one its perfect 🖤

...Damn, this really puts the difference between my non-hyperfix and hyperfix memory into perspective, huh 😅 i actually had to trim the sv list a bit 😅😅😅

Anyway, yeah, my username actually just references an rp session we had with friends quite a few years back. Where at a certain point my character was referenced as "a VERY charismatic dragon" after managing to turn the antagonist by impressing them (thanks to some VERY lucky dice rolls). And I was dissatisfied with my old username at the time, and thought it sounded funny and snappy enough, so - stars aligned and all that. I'm happy with it still! Probably because dragons are always cool ✌️

#svsss #motorcity #dragon age #venom #qi ye #tian ya ke #<- for org purposes on my blog #😘 thanks for the ask!

[lilacmingi]

PILLAGED

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Pirate!Yunho x barkeep!fem reader

Word count: 8,245

Note: Another pirate imagine from 2022 from Wattpad! All the pirate imagines for this series are ones that I’m very proud of. This one is one of my favorites!

You were busy washing dishes and tidying up the mess left by your previous customers. Empty glasses and spilled alcohol littered the bar, the strong stench permeating the air. You sighed as you placed a clean glass onto a shelf with the others, making a mental note to scrub the bar once you finished dishes. The sound of someone kicking open the entrance to the tavern pulled your attention away from the spotless glassware.

A man with dark hair strode into the establishment, brandishing a small pistol. He wasted no time jumping onto the bar, catching everyone's attention, as if people weren't already staring because of his dramatic entrance. You could tell immediately by his attire that he was a pirate, and pirates are bad news around here.

"I'll be taking three barrels of whiskey." He spoke to you before turning towards the patrons to address them.

Before he could speak, half of the customers ran out shouting, "Pirates!"

The man watched as they ran out, but didn't do anything as he continued speaking to the ones left in the tavern.

"If all of you would be so kind, empty your satchels and pass the contents over to these three gentleman." He announced, waving a pistol around as three more pirates entered the place.

While he was facing the customers who were in the process of removing the contents of their bags, you grabbed a musket that was kept underneath the bar. You pointed it at the man, cocking it, causing the weapon to make a small click sound which prompted the pirate to turn around.

"I don't think so." You spoke.

He crouched down on the counter, his eyes darkening as they met yours.

"On second thought..." He trailed off.

The weapon was snatched from your hands and you were grabbed by another pirate who you didn't see approach.

"I'll take you as well." The man on the counter smirked.

"No!" You fought back, jerking around in the pirate's grip.

"Are you done?" The man in charge asked, turning to his two lackeys that appeared to have collected a few things from the remaining customers in the establishment.

Said customers seemed to have evacuated the premises, leaving just you and the four pirates.

"Now, doll, why don't you do us a favor and serve us something to drink."

"I'm not serving you anything." You spat.

"We'll see about that." He sneered, standing up and hopping off the counter.

The faint sound of a weapon being drawn from a sheath could be heard before you felt the cool sensation of a blade being pressed against your neck by the pirate holding you.

The leader rested his elbows on the counter as he watched you.

"If you don't serve us, I'll have my crew mate here gut you like a fish. How's that?"

You gulped, your neck momentarily pressing against the sharp blade. You grit your teeth as you answered.

"Fine."

"That's more like it."

You were released as the leader and his crew went to sit at the bar. You watched with a sour expression as the one who was holding the knife against your neck merely climbed over the bar to get to the other side, joining the rest of the group. Oh well, the bar hadn't been cleaned anyway.

The man and his three crew mates began going through the satchels collected from your customers. Your eyes darted towards the exit, but before you could make a move, one of the crew mates pulled a musket out, cocking it.

"Don't even think about it." The dark-haired pirate spoke, looking at the (stolen) rings on his fingers. "You won't even get the chance."

Letting out a sigh, you chose to comply for the time being.

"Enough." The lead pirate waved his hand dismissively, the crew mate lowering his musket. "Barkeep, get us some whiskey, will ya?" He demanded.

"If you say please, I'll consider it."

He looked to you, his eyes dark. "Pirates don't say please."

Your jaw clenched as you turned to grab enough glasses for him and his crew. He had to be the captain, if not the captain, then someone in a high position. Though you were almost certain he was the captain. There's no way he wasn't.

You placed four glasses of whiskey onto the bar, watching as the pirates took them.

"What's some fine whiskey without a fine woman to serve it?" The dark-haired leader, presumably the captain, winked at you before raising his glass.

You cringed at his pathetic attempt to flirt.

"To pillaging!" He grinned.

"To pillaging!" His crew echoed as they clanked their glasses together so hard, some of the alcohol spilled onto the already messy bar top.

You watched from behind the bar as they downed the drinks. The captain let out a long ahhh as he slammed his glass onto the counter.

"More." He demanded.

You had to fight back the urge to refuse, choosing to comply, as it seemed to be the best option for you.

The captain and his crew stayed much longer than you wanted them to, drinking nearly all the alcohol you had, save for what was in the back, which they made very clear that they would take with them.

"Alright, men." The captain sighed, slamming his stein down onto the bar as he got to his feet. "Don't wanna overstay our welcome."

"You already have." You muttered.

He glanced your way, letting out a short noise that sounded like a mix between a chortle and a scoff.

"Barkeep, show us to your stock room."

Despite his amicable tone, you knew he wouldn't hesitate to sick one of his lackeys on you if you refused. Feeling like you didn't have a choice, you led him and his three crew members to the back room where large barrels of alcohol were kept.

"Oh. You've got quite a selection." The captain commented, his fingers tracing over the wooden cask. "I think I'll take some of this as well."

"You said you'd only take three barrels of whiskey." You spoke up.

"I change my mind."

You watched helplessly as his crew rolled the barrels out of the room and into the main dining area. The stock room began to be emptied right in front of you, one barrel after the next. Once the space was completely barren, you turned to the captain.

"Alright. You've taken my entire stock. I think it's time for you to leave."

"Ah, but there's one more thing I need."

"What more could you possibly take? There's nothing left but glasses and tables."

"There's you." He responded.

Your brows pulled together.

"I'd like to take you with me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Did you not hear me earlier? I said I'd be taking you as well."

"I'm not for taking."

"Your bar is under the mercy of Captain Jeong Yunho. You don't have a choice."

He grabbed your wrist harshly, tugging you towards the stock room entrance, pulling you out to the dining area where his lackeys stood amongst the barrels of alcohol. He snapped his fingers and gestured towards the door, prompting his men to roll the barrels of alcohol out of the establishment.

"Let go of me!" You hissed.

"Telling me to let go won't work, darling."

You jerked in his grip, trying to free yourself, using your unbound hand to pry his off your wrist.

"This would be a lot easier if you stopped moving." He told you, grabbing your other wrist, preventing you from moving at all.

He pushed you forward, keeping a secure hold on you as you stumbled ahead towards the entrance of the tavern. Wriggling one last time in an attempt to free yourself, you stepped forward trying to run ahead, hoping you'd be moving so much the captain would have no choice but to let go—it didn't work. You simply weren't strong enough.

"Surely, you didn't think that would work. Did you?"

You grit your teeth as he shoved you forward out of the tavern and into the streets where chaos was ensuing. Pirates were everywhere, carrying an array of different things ranging from jewelry, money, crates, and clothes. You watched with sad eyes as you saw the homes and businesses lining the streets being looted. Windows were broken, doors had been ripped off their hinges, everything was in ruins.

"Keep moving, darling." Yunho nudged you ahead.

"Stop it with the nicknames." You grumbled.

"If I knew your name, maybe I wouldn't have to call you such things."

"Please." You rolled your eyes.

"I'm waiting, darling."

"It's Y/n." You muttered angrily.

"Y/n, what a nice name. Now, keep walking."

Once at the docks, you saw the menacing ship belonging to the vagrants that were plundering your small town.

"You can't just take me." You told the captain.

"I can, and I will." He responded in a tone that was far too relaxed.

"I'm just a barkeep. You don't even need me."

"We'll see about that."

You turned to him with a scowl, pausing for a moment. It was the first time you'd looked at him since stepping outside. You noticed uniquely colored red streaks in his hair that weren't visible in the dimly lit tavern.

You were snapped from your thoughts when Yunho dragged you with him up the gangplank and onto the monstrous pirate ship.

"You two, go down to the tavern and collect the rest of the barrels of alcohol." He pointed to a couple crew members standing around.

"Yes, Captain." They responded in unison.

"Now to take care of you." He tugged you over to a set of steps leading to the forecastle deck.

"Mingi!" He called.

A tall, slim man dressed in a baggy blouse and trousers hurried over.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Get me some rope."

Mingi nodded heading across the deck to retrieve a rope from a small crate, bringing it back to his captain. He gave you a brief glance before looking away, averting his eyes.

Yunho began to tie your wrists to one of the posts on the stairs, tugging the ropes tightly causing you to hiss.

"What are you doing?" Mingi asked, looking a little uneasy.

"Tying up the hostage so she can't run off."

"Hostage?"

"Don't worry. I'm not gonna leave her here. I just need to make sure she doesn't go anywhere until we get back out in the waters. Will you keep an eye on her?"

"Uh." Mingi glanced at you looking unsure. "Yes. Of course."

"Great. I've got captain duties to tend to. I won't be long."

And with that, Yunho walked away, leaving you with who you assume is his first mate, Mingi.

For someone who's supposed to be higher in the ranks, he seemed a bit anxious.

"Are you okay?" You asked him after watching his odd behavior.

"I'm fine." He responded.

"You don't look like it."

"Yunho doesn't usually take hostages."

"I find that hard to believe." You scoffed. "He seemed to take me with no remorse whatsoever."

"I promise he never does this. I don't know why." Mingi then looked at you. "You're not gonna try to escape, are you?"

"I don't know." You jerked on the ropes a couple times, but it was no use. They were tied too tight and wouldn't budge. "I guess not." You dropped your head in defeat.

Mingi shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He didn't like that Yunho tied you up, it was so unlike him.

"What did you do?" He finally asked, wondering how you managed to get on the captain's bad side so quickly.

"Defended myself. Fought back."

This Mingi guy seemed pretty soft. Not only that, but he didn't seem to like the fact that you were taken against your will. You assumed maybe you could talk him into helping you.

"Hey, Mingi was it? You think maybe you'd be able to untie these and let me go?"

His already round eyes became rounder at your suggestion.

"Oh. N-no." He shook his head rapidly. "I can't. I'd be going against Yunho's wishes. I can't do that."

"Come on. You seem like a really nice guy." You pressed.

"I'm really sorry. I can't go against his wishes. He—" Mingi paused mid-sentence to clear his throat a few times, then continued. "He trusts me a lot. I can't break that."

Yep, Mingi was soft, but he was loyal as ever.

You wanted ask if he was just going to let an innocent townsperson be taken and held captive on a ship, but this guy seemed upset already, so you kept your mouth shut. If you do end up as a prisoner on this pirate ship, at least there's a decent guy who you might be able to befriend.

"You're a pretty loyal guy, huh?"

"I suppose." Mingi answered, biting his bottom lip. "What's your name?"

The question seemed to come out of nowhere, but you didn't mind answering.

"Y/n."

"I'm Mingi."

You had already heard Yunho refer to him as such, but it was nice to hear him introduce himself.

As if on cue, the very captain stepped back on board, assisting the last of his crew with supplies that had been stolen from your town.

"Alright men, raise the gangplank, get those masts ready! We're getting out of here." Yunho ordered.

The crew immediately got to work, preparing to depart from your ravaged town. Mingi gave you a sympathetic look as Yunho walked by, moving up to the forecastle deck to begin steering the large sea vessel away from the docks.

"Keep watching her, Mingi." He ordered.

The gentle brown-haired pirate nodded and continued to keep a watchful eye on you.

The only thing you could do was stand and watch as the ship departed from the harbor until your hometown was no longer in view. Before you knew it, the only thing you could was the ocean surrounding the vessel on all sides.

Yunho stayed at the wheel for what seemed like forever, until finally he stepped away, moving towards you.

"There's nowhere to go." He told you as he began untying the ropes that bound your wrists.

"I could jump into the ocean."

"If you want to be eaten by sharks, sure."

You scowled at him in response.

"That's what I thought." He smirked before turning to Mingi. "You did a good job. Thanks for watching her."

Mingi smiled brightly before walking off.

"Now, what should I do with you?" Yunho hummed, thoughtfully.

"I'd like it if you could let me go."

He let out forced laughter in response. "That's really cute, but we both know that's not gonna happen."

Your jaw clenched in annoyance, watching him as he tilted his head in thought.

"I could put you work, make you clean the galley, or you could be my personal maid and make sure my quarters are always neat and tidy."

Your features twisted in distaste. You could think of a million other things you'd rather do than serve such an arrogant and egotistical man. Yes, you worked as a barkeep and served mostly men, but at least they didn't tie you up to staircase posts and kidnap you against your will.

"For the time being, just stick by my side. Got it?"

You'd rather jump ship than be stuck with this jerk all night.

"I said, got it?" He repeated more sternly.

"Yeah." You responded, flatly.

Night fell over the ship, cloaking the sky in darkness as the vessel continued to sail over black waters. The dim light from the torches stretched across the boards of the main deck which were being stomped upon by the scuffed boots of the pirate crew as drunken sea shanties spilled from their lips. Yunho thought it was fit to throw a party in celebration of the pillaging that took place earlier that day. Ironically enough, he forced you to serve your own stolen alcohol.

With a sour expression, you handed Yunho a glass of whiskey.

"Like I said, what's some fine whiskey without a fine woman to serve it?" He grinned, giving you a smirk that made you wanna barf.

The flirting wasn't the only thing making you feel sick. Seeing everyone have a good time, celebrating the destruction of a town made your stomach churn as well.

"Gentleman!" Yunho called everyone's attention. "I'm pleased to say that we're close." He told the crew, causing them to cheer in response.

Close to what, you weren't sure, but everyone sure seemed happy about it. You assumed it was treasure of some sort, which made you roll your eyes. The crew clanked their steins together causing the alcohol inside to spill over the edge, splattering on the deck. It reminded you of the way townspeople would come in and make a mess on the bar. You wished you were there right now.

Yunho and Mingi linked arms, dancing in a circle as they laughed together. The crew cheered them on, singing and stomping their feet against the deck.

It took about 25 minutes for you to be fed up with the obnoxious celebrations and horrible off-key singing. You got up from your spot on the steps and approached Yunho who had just downed his third glass of alcohol.

"What can I do for you, sweetheart?" He grinned, his cheeks already showing a pink tint.

"I'm ready to go to bed." You told him.

"But the party's just started."

"I don't care."

Yunho sighed. "Fine. Follow me."

He headed over to a set of doors nestled between the steps that led to the forecastle deck and pulled them open.

"What is this?"

"The captain's quarters, obviously. Have you never been on a pirate ship before?" He rolled his eyes.

You weren't sure if it was the alcohol that made him ask such a nonsensical question or if he truly was that stupid.

"You'll be staying here in my sleeping quarters."

"Why? Can't I have my own room?"

"No. I need to keep an eye on you."

As much as you didn't want to share a room with the pirate captain who forcibly kidnapped you, you'd rather have a bed to sleep in than be tied up on the deck all night.

"Alright, fine. Where am I supposed to sleep?" You asked, looking around the room only seeing one bed.

"There." Yunho pointed to a cot on the far side of the room. It looked so much like a bench that you hardly noticed it.

You honestly didn't care what the bed looked like. You'd take anything at this point.

"Have fun at your party." You muttered, going over to the cot and lying down.

"I will."

His response was followed by the sound of closing doors, letting you know he returned to the main deck. Tugging the blanket up, you tried to make yourself as comfortable as you could on the unsupportive cot where you somehow managed to doze off.

At some point, you were woken up by the sounds of the doors opening and Yunho singing quietly to himself, the notes coming out muffled and incoherent. His uneven and draggy footsteps let you know he was absolutely wasted and struggling to get himself to bed. You paid no mind to it until you heard a loud thump causing you to sit upright. Yunho had collapsed on the floor while trying to take his boots off, one of them halfway off while the other was still on his foot.

Ignore him, Y/n.

You went to lay back down only to stop, guilt beginning to build inside you. Letting out a long sigh, you reluctantly got up from the cot and walked over to the intoxicated pirate, tugging off his boots. He groaned a bit, but didn't fuss. You tossed his shoes aside and pushed him into a sitting position.

"Come on." You grunted.

"Get me another glass." He raised his arm.

You scoffed. "You're drunk."

"Nooo I'm Yunho." He chuckled.

"Get up." You grumbled, pulling him to his feet. "Don't think I'm helping you because like you. I just don't want to hear you complain about waking up with a stiff neck."

He stumbled slightly as he tried to keep his balance. You struggled to hold him up, shuffling towards his bed where you let go of him, allowing him to collapse on the mattress, not caring how he landed. With a final sigh, you returned to your cot, crawling back under the covers and closing your eyes, managing to get back to sleep.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead."

Your eyes squeezed shut at the loud voice shouting above you.

"Get up." Yunho nudged you. "We've got a long day ahead of us."

"There is no us."

"Yes there is. Now, up and at 'em."

"Aren't you supposed to be hungover?" You grumbled.

"I stopped getting hungover years ago." He chortled, pulling the covers off you. "Now, come on. Outta bed, sleepyhead."

"I hate how chipper you are." You groaned, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

He ignored your commented and grabbed your forearms, pulling you out of bed despite your protests.

"What do you possibly need me up for?" You complained, grabbing your shoes as he pulled you out on the deck.

"Don't know, but you're awake just in case."

You huffed out of annoyance and pulled away from him, plopping down on a nearby crate to slip on your shoes.

The other crew members were already hard at work swabbing the deck and tying up the sails. The sun's warmth hit you immediately as the bright rays shone down on the ship.

"You have a whole crew to do work for you." You muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"That's what I thought." Yunho commented, walking across the deck.

"Morning, captain." One by one his crew greeted him.

"Morning." He paused, turning to you. "Y/n, come on."

You rolled your eyes and hopped off the crate, following the pirate down into the ship.

"Where are we going?"

"The galley. It's time for some breakfast. I'm starving."

Just the mention of food had your stomach feeling particularly empty. You hadn't really had anything to eat since boarding the ship.

Upon entering the galley, you saw a few crew mates sitting about, one of them being Mingi. The two of you approached who you assumed was the cook on board and were served eggs, a biscuit, and to your surprise, juice. It wasn't much, but you were grateful for it, especially since you hadn't eaten anything in many hours.

You trailed behind Yunho who made himself comfortable across from Mingi. The captain expected you to sit beside him, but you moved to the opposite side to sit next to Mingi.

"There's a perfectly good seat here." Yunho pointed.

"I'm well aware." You commented.

The dark-haired pirate looked you up and down suspiciously as if he was trying to figure out an explanation.

"You think I want to sit next to you after you took me from my home?"

Yunho opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it, causing Mingi to chuckle. You couldn't stop yourself from smirking, even a little bit.

"Yunho, have you tried the juice yet? It's so good and fresh. The meals after a good looting are always the best." Mingi commented.

To that, his friend took a sip, humming and nodding in satisfaction.

As you ate your breakfast, you noticed your's and Yunho's plates were becoming emptier quicker than Mingi's, even though he started eating before the two of you. Eventually, the both of you had finished your breakfast, but Yunho continued to sit, watching Mingi.

He must have noticed your lingering gaze because he spoke up.

"Mingi's a bit of a slow eater. I always wait on him."

"Oh." Was all you said.

Truthfully, you thought it was kinda sweet that Yunho was willing to wait for his friend to finish eating—that didn't mean you thought he was a good guy, though. It would take more than that for you to change your outlook on him.

"Y/n, you don't have to hang around. Don't let me keep you." Mingi spoke up.

"It's fine." You assured him. "Plus, Yunho won't let me out of his sight."

Mingi seemed upset by that.

"Anyway." You sighed. "I'm gonna go take my dishes."

When you walked away, Mingi turned to his friend with a slightly disappointed expression.

"Yunho, why don't you trust her? It seems like she's just an innocent townsperson. One that you ripped from her home, by the way. Why'd you bring her here?"

Yunho shrugged.

"That's not a valid reason. She looks miserable. Why'd you take her from her town?"

"Because I can."

Everything became quiet for a moment as Mingi looked his friend over.

"You like her, don't you?"

"No." He answered too quickly. "I've only known her for a day. How could I possibly like her?"

Yunho's ears became red as he continued to make up excuses. Mingi watched him with an amused expression.

"Alright. You want the truth? I don't know why I took her." He finally said.

"It's because you like her."

"No I don't. Stop saying that." Yunho was getting very defensive and his ears only got redder, causing Mingi to start laughing.

"Look at you. You're so embarrassed right now." He laughed, throwing his head back.

That laughing soon turned to coughing. Mingi took a sip of juice to clear his throat, shaking his head.

"I don't know much about dating, but I'm pretty sure kidnapping a girl isn't going to win her over."

Yunho rolled his eyes.

Just then, you returned to the table.

"Your cook gave me a weird look for bringing my dishes to him."

"We usually leave them where they are." Mingi answered, clearing his throat, his voice sounding a bit strained.

"Are you alright?" You asked him.

"Yeah. I just laughed a little too hard."

"Whatever it was, it must have been pretty funny."

"It was." Mingi chuckled.

"Alright that's enough." Yunho spoke up. "Let's go."

"No. Mingi isn't finished eating."

"I will be." He told you. "Don't worry about me."

You noticed him give a glance to Yunho as the two of you walked out.

Throughout your stay on Yunho's ship, you did a few things here and there, easy tasks like helping to move something or washing dishes, but nothing more. You watched the crew fish and do other things around the ship as well as cut up with each other in their spare time. You had even heard a few interesting stories from some of them. Meals served on the ship were fairly good and usually consisted of soup, some sort of bread and sometimes meat or fish.

You had only been on board for a week, but you liked the crew and were slowly realizing these people were nowhere near as bad as the men that entered your tavern, even Yunho. He liked to act tough sometimes, but he was actually kind of sweet, however he could be cocky at times. You felt less like a hostage and more like a guest. Since that first day on the ship, Yunho never tied you up again. You had a bed to sleep in, you got at least three meals a day, and never really had to do anything on the ship.

All that made you wonder, why had Yunho taken you in the first place?

Your feet swung back and forth as you sat on a crate that you often made yourself comfortable on. You didn't have anything to do, so you spent your time watching the ocean and the crew. Across the deck, you spotted Yunho and Mingi together laughing and cutting up. The captain acted differently around his friend. He was brighter, cheerful, and much more bubbly.

Throughout your stay on the vessel, you saw just how close the two pirates were. Mingi was very loyal to Yunho and you could see why. The two were like brothers. They're always hanging out and Yunho is always calling on Mingi when he needs assistance or a second opinion.

The latter tossed his arm over the captain's shoulders before pulling him into a playful headlock. Yunho laughed, his hands holding onto Mingi's forearm as he feigned an attempt to pry it off him. It was like watching two young boys play fight with each other.

As the two laughed, you noticed Mingi start to cough. It was just a couple small coughs, but it caught Yunho's attention immediately. Mingi held his hand up to let his friend know he was okay, only to double over as another coughing spell hit him. The sound was horrid and raspy, making your face scrunch. You watched worriedly as Yunho hastily escorted Mingi off the deck and down into the ship.

You stopped seeing Mingi on the deck that day. It worried you greatly, especially since you had gotten to know him a little.

The crew seemed to be feeling the effects of Mingi's absence because they had become much quieter and the atmosphere had a tenseness to it. There was less cutting up and more hard work. At first, you weren't sure why everyone seemed to be on edge, but then you witnessed Yunho snapping at crew members for seemingly no reason and it all made sense.

"Hey!" Yunho shouted. "What's wrong with you? There's a whole deck to walk on."

"Sorry, captain." Muttered the crew mate who'd accidentally bumped shoulders with him.

He stormed up the steps to the forecastle deck without another word. You pressed your lips together and briefly considered going after him, but decided against it.

One thing you knew for sure was that Mingi's sudden collapse was serious and effecting everyone—especially Yunho.

Later in the day, you found yourself standing on the forecastle deck with Yunho, watching as the sea breeze blew through his red-streaked hair. He seemed very much at peace stood at the wheel of the ship, steering the vessel through the clear waters. It appeared that he cooled off a bit since his outburst, so you decided to talk to him.

"Yunho, are you okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." You responded. "You haven't seemed like yourself."

He scoffed. "What does that mean?"

"You just seem a little different."

"I'm fine, Y/n."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"I think you're lying."

There was a beat of silence before you spoke up.

"This is about Mingi, isn't it?"

"No. It's not." He answered sharply, his voice much deeper than normal. "Even if it was, it's none of your business. You've known him for less than two weeks."

"I was just worried. That's all."

"Just stay out of my business, alright?" He raised his voice a bit. "You're not my friend. You're not even part of the crew. You're just some girl I chose to take hostage. Know your place."

The sheer amount of anger you felt after those words left his mouth was indescribable. You merely asked if he was alright because you were worried about him and all you got in return was hate.

You let out a dry chuckle. "You're right. I don't even know why I asked. I shouldn't care about you. In fact, I don't. So, you just do whatever you want. Snap at your crew. I don't care. Like you said, it's none of my business."

Turning on your heel, you left the forecastle deck, leaving Yunho alone.

Two days passed and you didn't speak a word to him. You avoided him at all costs and always went to bed early so you'd be asleep by the time he turned in for the night.

One night, you were awoken by a crash somewhere outside, the noise startling you awake. One glance across the room and you saw that Yunho wasn't in his own bed. You immediately sat up, pushing yourself out of bed. It wasn't until you got to the doors of the room that you stopped to consider why you were even going towards the sound in the first place.

"Whatever." You sighed, pushing open the doors and stepping out onto the deck.

The first thing you heard was incoherent murmuring that seemed to be coming from the forecastle deck. You moved up the steps, spotting Yunho talking to himself. He shouted loudly into the night air, swinging a bottle around. He paused his ranting, taking a swig before breaking the bottle on the railing of the ship and angrily tossing it out into the ocean.

"Yunho?"

He spun around, stumbling slightly.

"Y/n?" He slurred.

"Why are you up so late?"

"Couldn't sleep."

Still mad at him, you kept your words to a minimum, muttering an "Okay." and turning to leave.

"Wait!"

You stopped and faced him.

"Stay with me."

You wanted to say no, but his soft, pink-tinted cheeks and round, sparkly brown puppy eyes tugged at your heartstrings. When you didn't give an immediate answer, his bottom lip stuck out slightly, making you give in. You hated that that was all it took for you to cave. You told yourself it was because he was drunk and looking particularly adorable, but deep down, you knew the real reason.

You walked over to the drunken captain and stood beside him, a long silence hanging in the air.

"He's sick." Yunho spoke up, cutting through the silence.

"Who's sick?"

"Mingi." He hiccuped. "He started getting a cough about six months ago. It was mild so he brushed it off and so did I... until it got worse. Eventually, I made him see our medic on board and he said he's got some disease that's progressing fast. Last week, he collapsed on the deck from coughing, so I took him to the sick bay. He's been bedridden ever since." Tears fell from Yunho's eyes as he spoke.

"The worst part is, I can't find anything for him. I've pillaged town after town searching for information or any item that could possibly help. Someone in your town told me I could find a doctor that might be able to help, but I don't think Mingi has much time left." More tears stained his cheeks, making your heart break.

"I'll help you." You suddenly spoke up.

"What?"

"Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it. I want to help your friend."

"But I was so mean to you the other day." Yunho commented with a frown.

"I don't care about that anymore."

"I said some hurtful things." He hiccuped. "I'm sorry. I don't deserve your help."

He looked like he was about to start crying again, which prompted you to try and comfort him.

"It's okay. You weren't thinking straight. You were worried about Mingi and you let it get to you. We all say things we don't mean when we're stressed or worried."

Your words seemed to have the opposite effect as Yunho began to tear up.

"Yunho, no. Please don't sta—"

He threw his arms around you, allowing his head to drop onto your shoulder.

"You're so nice, Y/n."

You stumbled back at the force of his weight being put on you suddenly, your hand going to pat his back comfortingly.

"You're wasted right now, I'm sure you don't mean that."

"I doooo." He drew out the word. "You're gonna help me save my friend!"

"Keep it down." You shushed him.

"Oh." He whispered, letting out some giggles. "Okay."

"Come on. Let's get you to bed."

You coaxed him down the steps and onto the main deck. It was a feat, but one you somehow managed despite Yunho's stumbling. You could see his eyes getting droopy as you pulled open one of the doors to the captain's quarters, hurrying inside before the drunken pirate decided to pass out.

As you brought Yunho over to his bed, he stepped away from you and pulled the covers back, ready to crawl in.

"Hey, hey. Wait." You spoke abruptly, stopping him before he could get in the bed. "Take your shoes off first."

"Oh." He giggled and started fumbling with his footwear, unable to properly remove it as he wobbled, not able to keep his balance.

"Let me help." You leaned down and untied his boots while he propped himself up on a nearby desk. He lifted one foot at a time and allowed you to tug off his boots.

"Ahh." Yunho sighed in response.

"This situation seems familiar." You chuckled, recalling the last time you helped Yunho to bed when he had too much to drink.

Yunho giggled as you helped him onto the mattress. "You dropped me on the bed last time. Thanks to you, I didn't wake up with a stiff neck." He grinned drunkenly.

You felt something in your chest when he said that. You didn't think he remembered you getting him to bed, he was pretty out of it.

"You remember that?" You asked, softly.

He didn't answer, he only snuggled into his pillow and closed his eyes. You sighed, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you pulled the covers up over him.

"I love you." He murmured.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat.

He must be really drunk.

Brushing off his comment, you returned to bed, taking one last glance at Yunho before going to sleep.

The next day, Yunho woke up feeling particularly hungover for the first time in years.

He groaned as he sat up in bed, not quite remembering how he got there. Images of your face flashed in his mind.

Were you with him? Did you bring him to bed?

He got to his feet, slipping his boots on noticing you were nowhere to be seen. Without giving it a second though, he left his quarters, the bright sun burning his eyes, making him squint.

"Morning, captain." You greeted.

He opened one eye, glancing at you under the sun's bright rays.

"Sleep well?" You asked.

"Too well. I hardly remember last night. Were you with me?"

"I was, but only briefly. You were making a racket out on the forecastle deck."

"Yep." He sighed, seeming to recall it. "Sorry if I caused you any trouble."

"You didn't. You should go have some breakfast. It'll help."

"You already ate?"

You nodded, guiding him to the doors leading to the galley.

"You look rough." The cook chuckled as he handed the captain a plate.

"Gee, thanks."

"I haven't seen you hungover in a while."

"I haven't been hungover in a while. I think I went too far last night."

"It's nothing a good breakfast can't fix." The cook gave Yunho a grin as he went to sit down.

The galley seemed much emptier without Mingi. Ever since he was forced to stay in bed, everything has seemed emptier.

Yunho's brows pulled together as he tried to go over the events of last night. He felt like you had told him something pretty important, but he was having trouble remembering. He thought really hard for a moment, then finally a brief memory flashed in his mind, his heart softening afterwards.

You offered to help with Mingi.

"After the way I treated her?" He muttered.

He then remembered something else.

"I love you."

His eyes widened as he covered his face feeling absolutely mortified.

"No way. Did I really say that?"

Yunho hurriedly ate his breakfast and headed back out onto the deck in search of you. He wouldn't bring up the other thing he said, but he did want to thank you for being kind.

"Y/n?"

You were standing by the railing of the ship, staring down into the water, watching the water glide past the ship.

"Y/n!" He called.

You lifted your head, turning to look at Yunho.

"Is something wrong?"

"I just remembered something."

Oh no. You thought.

"Yes?"

"You offered to help me with Mingi."

You breathed an internal sigh of relief.

"I did."

"Thank you. I don't deserve it after the way I treated you, but I appreciate it."

You smiled softly. "You said pretty much the same thing last night."

"Did I?"

You nodded.

"Do you... remember anything else?" You asked, hesitantly.

He stiffened. "No. No I don't."

He was lying. It was so obvious. He knows what he said to you.

You rocked back and forth on your feet, nodding. "Well, I'm sure it'll come back to you. Anyway, I'd like to know how I can assist you in your voyage to this doctor who can help Mingi."

Yunho was thankful you changed the subject, breathing a quiet sigh of relief.

"Yes. Follow me."

It took less than a week for you to arrive at the town where the doctor resided. During that week, Yunho taught you how to read maps and help raise and lower the sails. You did whatever you could to make the voyage easier.

"I'm gonna go get Mingi." Yunho told you as he watched his crew anchor the ship by the dock. "You should come with me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'll need you there for emotional support."

"Alright."

The two of you went to the sick bay where Mingi lie unmoving in bed.

"Come on, Mingi. We're gonna get you some help." Yunho assisted his friend in sitting up.

The sight broke your heart. Mingi's usual bright expression and features seemed duller. His eyes were droopy and donned dark circles, his face was ashen and had lost some of its color. A wheezy and raspy cough left his body followed by a groan.

"Y/n, you can help."

At Yunho's okay, you stepped in, assisting Mingi out of bed.

He let out a few more coughs as the two of you got him to his feet and helped him off the ship. When a Mingi stumbled, you helped to catch him, giving Yunho a worried look.

"We have to hurry."

The two of you quickened your pace as you hurried through the town.

"We're looking for a Dr. Choi." He told you.

You nodded and began reading the signs on the businesses lining the streets.

"Over there." You pointed.

Yunho looked over and spotted the doctor's office you pointed at, heading directly towards it. Once at the building, you and Yunho helped Mingi inside where a middle-aged man in a white coat sat at a desk.

"Are you Dr. Choi?" Yunho asked.

"I am. May I help you?"

"My friend, he's very sick. He came down with a cough six months ago."

Just then, Mingi let out another horrid cough.

"Oh my." Dr. Choi murmured. "Follow me."

You and Yunho helped escort Mingi to an examining room where the doctor began to look over the sick pirate. Your nerves built up quickly as you watched Mingi, looking tired as ever.

"I'm gonna go stand outside." You told Yunho.

"Alright."

"What? No security guard?" You teased.

He gave you a small smile. "I trust you."

A sigh slipped past your lips as you stood outside, leaning against the building. You couldn't bear to be in the examination room seeing Mingi looking so disheveled.

As you focused on your breathing, you overheard a conversation from two nearby townspeople.

"A buddy of mine went to a tavern recently. It's a few towns over." One guy commented.

"Oh, really?" Questioned the other.

The conversation captured your attention, causing you to glance over at the two.

"Excuse me. You wouldn't happen to be talking about..." You gave them the name of your tavern.

"Actually, yes." The first guy nodded. "It got pillaged by pirates a few weeks ago, but you'd never know."

"Really? May I ask who's running it?"

The guy gave you the name of a girl and proceeded to describe her. You knew exactly who it was. She was from your town and told you she'd like to run a tavern one day. After the pillaging, you guessed she decided to take over and help get everything back to normal. Your heart felt heavy, but it seemed that your tavern was doing just fine without you, maybe even better.

You didn't have time to think about it any longer as the front entrance to the doctor's office opened and out walked Yunho with his arm around Mingi, who still looked lethargic.

"The doctor gave Mingi some medicine and is sending some with us for him to continue to take."

"So, he's going to be okay?" You asked with a hopeful tone.

"Yes. He's going to be just fine."

"That's wonderful news."

With good news and medicine for Mingi, the two of you helped him back to the ship and put him in bed so he could rest and let the medication work.

"Do you need anything?" You asked.

Mingi shook his head. "I do want to say thank you." He smiled, looking at the both of you.

"Yunho is the one who got the location of the doctor." You mentioned.

"Yes, but Y/n offered to help find him." Yunho added.

"You both helped." Mingi smiled. "Thank you. I was so scared I was going to d—"

"Don't even say it." Yunho stopped him. "I don't even wanna think about it anymore. The only thing that matters is that you're going to be okay."

Mingi nodded. "You're right."

"We're going to let you get some rest. I'll come back and check on you later."

"Me too." You added, earning a small smile from Yunho.

The ship departed from the docks and you were back at sea once again. You felt an immense sense of relief knowing that Mingi was going to be alright. You knew Yunho probably felt the same, especially since the atmosphere on the ship was much lighter now.

Yunho, who stood beside you stared out at the calm waters as the ship sailed forward.

"I guess I should let you go now." He spoke up suddenly.

"What? Really?"

"You helped save my best friend's life. I owe you so much more, but it's the least I can do."

You frowned, thinking about returning to your town where there wasn't much left for you.

"What's the matter? You don't look so happy."

"Well, I overheard someone in town saying another girl is running my tavern. It seems to be going well too. I don't think they need me."

"I see." Yunho hummed. "In that case, would you want to stay with us?"

You knew your answer immediately, but pretended to think about it just to tease him.

"Please?" He asked quietly.

"I thought pirates didn't say please."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Oh, so you're desperate." You teased.

"Yes."

"Desperate enough to beg me to stay?" You grinned.

"Don't push it."

The two of you fell into joint laughter.

"So, is that a yes?" He finally asked.

"Yes."

Yunho couldn't help it. He got so excited that he pulled you in for a hug, muttering a small "Thank you." into your hair.

It took a moment for you to process what was happening, but you soon relaxed into the hug, resting your head on his chest.

"So, about that night." You spoke up, parting from the hug.

"What night?"

"The night where you drunkenly confessed to me."

"What?" He chuckled. "I didn't do that."

"You sure? Because I remember you saying you loved me."

"Did I say that?" He questioned, his voice going higher.

"Yes you did."

Yunho continued to chuckle nervously, muttering excuses. Only when you gave him a kiss on the cheek did he stop.

He placed his hand on his cheek as you pulled away, his eyes staring off in the distance in shock.

"So, did you mean it when you said it?" You questioned, quietly.

"Yes. I didn't mean to say it out loud, though. I'm sure it freaked you out."

"I blamed it on the alcohol, honestly." You grinned a bit. "But I did wonder if there was some meaning behind it."

The look on Yunho's face said it all.

"You know, I was in denial of my feelings." You continued. "Sometimes you'd do or say certain things that would have my heart fluttering, but I pushed it aside. Now, I think I'm ready to face the truth."

"And what's that?" Yunho urged gently.

"That I like you."

His eyes became even wider as a faint blush blossomed on his cheeks.

"You do?"

"Yes."

Yunho took your hands in his, gazing down into your eyes as he held back a smile.

"I really want to kiss you right now."

"Then do it."

That was all he needed as he leaned in and closed the space between your lips. It was crazy how you ended up here in this position. You thought of everything that led up to this moment, and it may sound odd, but you've never been more thankful to have been taken by the pirate captain.

Your hands gently cupped his cheeks as you allowed your lips to linger on his for a few moments before parting ways. You turned around in Yunho's arms, resting your back against his chest as you gazed out at the horizon before you; the open ocean representing the start of your new life and it's endless opportunities.

Yunho held you close as his ship sailed through the blue green waters, moving towards your next destination, wherever that may be.

Hongjoong ⟡ Seonghwa ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ San ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Wooyoung ⟡ Jongho

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143

#jeong yunho x reader #yunho x reader #yunho x you #yunho x y/n #yunho pirate au #ateez imagines #ateez pirate au #yunho #jeong yunho #ateez oneshot #kpop imagines #jongho x reader #jongho x you #jongho x y/n #choi jongho x reader #jongho pirate au

[qserasera]

#i feel like lee sookyung would be even MORE mocking and funny when news is that kdj is yjh's right hand man (via @righteousenjoymentofthunder)

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

enjoy this crackfic snippet based off the idea of a darker AU where yoo joonghyuk takes the absolute throne, and kim dokja ends up as his consort/right-hand man/advisor (im assuming in this canon-divergence AU that the scenario Catastrophe of Floods happens before the War of Kings to test out each king's strength or something; yjh speed-runs their established relationship development once kdj is back as a result :))

(i'm not going to write any more of this, so if anyone wants to use the above AU premise as a fic idea/ fanart thing, go Wild; would be nice if there was a link to the original post with the AU idea tho )

*using name spellings from my friend's summation, instead of the other variations {{ Now with an AO3 crosspost Here}} title: axis mundi rating: T words: 1,196 pairing: yoo joonghyuk/kim dokja "They're waiting inside," the woman with the sword says, to the masked figure.

The masked figure nods. Hears the tent flap flutter shut behind her, as she strides forward.

She stops and turns her head, assessing the room around her.

A contradiction in character. A polarity to be pondered--but one so balanced, it seemed to converge together to one perfect point.

The tent, though spacious, was a far too humble backdrop to serve as a royal hall.

One side, to her right, is sparse. Nothing more than a single sword rack marks out the space; a clean stroke of calligraphy against white paper.

The side to her left leans towards unruliness, moreso than the right. Papers scrawled in ink and scribbles flock over a long side-table. A tray, empty of any food, leans precariously on one corner.

A janggi board sits askew over one of the papers (a surprisingly old-fashioned choice for planning scenarios, she assumes; could she attribute it to that person's influence?). Next to it, a half-open book, laid upside down.

There are other smaller tables around, below the level of the dais.

Above everything else, the chairs at the center—one throne in particular, with a smaller chair on equal level besides it—loom large with their presence.

As did the Status of their occupants.

The one in white stands first. Rocks once on his heels, before setting his hands inside his jacket pocket.

"Lee Sugyeong," he says. He offers a smile. Perfunctory and polite, crescent-thin. "Mother. Why have you come?"

"Information," Lee Sugyeong says. Removes her mask, the wood of it smooth in her fingertips.

Everyone always said that Kim Dokja had inherited her eyes. Bright, when in good humor or with delight. And in other times, too many times—opaque as one-way mirrored glass, save for glints of light as his thoughts tumbled over each other, sharp and sharper.

"And to see the new Absolute King, of course," Lee Sugyeong says. A nod to the one behind Kim Dokja.

Yu Junghyeok stands to his feet from his throne. Fluid and swift, a shadow in motion. A presence that could not be ignored. Power rolls off of him, palpable as the bright shine of a strong sword.

The new Absolute King. Her son's protagonist; his hero.

And now, if rumors could be believed....She turns her gaze back to her child—the man in the white coat, fingers turning in his pockets. [The Fable, 'Kingmaker of a Thousand Strings' is continuing its storytelling] [The Fable, 'Cherished Consort of the Conquering King' is continuing its storytelling]

"Consort?" Lee Sugyeong raises a brow.

The cool line of her son's brow twitches. "Bihyung said even if it was a typo, it couldn't be changed once recorded in the system."

Lee Sugyeong opens her mouth to ask more, but Kim Dokja cuts her off with a wave of his hand.

"Better to talk if we're seated, I suppose. We don't have coffee. Tea will have to do." There's a hand, curling in over an elbow. The hem of a dark sleeve over white fabric, Kim Dokja's shoulders easing at the touch.

Yu Junghyeok, the Absolute King, speaks for the first time. "Mind the leaves." Kim Dokja's brow wrinkles. His voice turns light, lilting. "Even if I burned them, didn't you just say you would buy more for me, last time, Junghyeok-ah? Is the Conquering King going back on his words?"

The Absolute King tilts his head, but lets Kim Dokja go without further complaint.

He turns back to Lee Sugyeong, tips his chin in a rough motion towards one of the chairs by an empty table.

Lee Sugyeong shakes her head as she sits.

Well. It wasn't like she hadn't been warned about Yu Junghyeok's manners.

The silence that passes has as much warmth as a mountain blizzard.

Yu Junghyeok doesn't seem nearly as interested in finding out any information the King of Wanderers would have as he did in following around Kim Dokja's movements with his gaze.

She resists the urge to lift her hand, and rub away the wrinkle she could sense forming between her brows.

What sort of complications had her son gotten himself into, to invoke such a troublesome devotion from an equally troublesome man?

Kim Dokja returns with a tray, the teapot and small cups.

The Conquering King lifts the tray from Kim Dokja's hands without a word, setting it at a center. His wrist flips over the small cups, as if laying out cards.

The color is a light pale green in the cups. Faint notes of grain in its steam.

Kim Dokja's right hand rests against the table, his index finger tapping a three-note rhythm against the wood. He lifts his eyes to her, expecting her to speak.

So Lee Sugyeong does.

"The loyal hound, following behind the heels of the Conquering King. Was this everything you had wished for once, child?"

"Ah, well—I'm not following him, exactly—" Yu Junghyeok snaps his gaze upwards, his expression dark. Not at Kim Dokja—at Lee Sugyeong.

"Not a hound, nor a follower." He lowers a teacup in front of Kim Dokja, setting his hand down. Close enough to pin down the hem of Kim Dokja's sleeve. "Kim Dokja is my companion."

Kim Dokja nods. Again, a collected composure. Again, his eyes calm, steady as an undisturbed lake.

"You've met him now, Mother. And have seen me, besides. If there is other information you are looking for, you can leave it to us through the usual processes—"

Lee Sugyeong tips her head back, her eyes considering as she watches Kim Dokja, as he lets his words unroll from his tongue with a frightening ease, swifter than the arrows of a master archer.

"I wonder, " she says idly, "Is your bark more terrifying, or his bite?"

"Forgive us if you find our hospitality is lacking." The switch in tone from the Conquering King is also something that prickles of danger. Something he learned from Kim Dokja, in turn, she would guess. "King of wanderers."

Yu Junghyeok is holding out one of the filled teacups with both hands towards Lee Sugyeong. She takes it, resting the bottom of the cup on her palm, her other fingers holding onto the rim.

Then a pause, before a merciless blow from Yu Junghyeok. "Or would sieomeoni be more appropriate?"

At his shoulder, Kim Dokja makes a cut-off sound like a penguin choking on a fishbone, and slams a hand down on the table as he stands.

"Yu Junghyeok!"

"Kim Dokja," the Conquering King parrots back. For someone who has seen all manner of shocking things since the start of the scenarios, this nears the most shocking of them all. The lazy indulgence in the Conquering King's eyes. One of his hands tugs at the ends of a white jacket's belt at Kim Dokja's waist, wrapping the end of it loosely around his wrist.

"Sit," he says, in a voice that allows no argument. "You should at least finish your tea."

If she had a jot less of self-control, she might very well have dropped her cup.

One of Lee Sugyeong's masked guards a short distance away, puts her hand under her chin, and says quietly, but not quietly enough for Lee Sugyeong to miss hearing: "Sieomeoni? Or would Queen Dowager be more appropriate? Wait, no, what would be the right term...?" Notes *Sieomeoni - 시어머니 (mother-in-law) *Another video on family terms

#joongdok #orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #yoo joonghyuk #kim dokja #orv fanfic #absolute throne AU #words words words #uhhhh...crackfic #have fun reading this SKDJFSLKJDF

[rist-ix]

The sparxshipping teasing from Iginio got me wondering.... if we ever did get canon sparxshipping explored, whether in a reboot or new adaptation, how would you like it for it to be done?

I'm gonna try to answer both of these in one post cause they overlap a little, but first of all thank you!

Buckle up fellas I'm bringing discourse.

This is gonna be a bit of an unpopular opinion I think, and it’s that I don’t want sparxshipping to be canon at all.

Feel free to get the pitchforks, but until then imma talk. I have villainships that I think not only add something to the overall plot, they kind of define it too. Reylo for examples, with its themes of redemption, masks and compassion, or Darklina and how important their relationship is to the war and Grisha oppression, or Lotor and Allura with its symbolism of breaking the cycle of abuse, making peace, reclaiming a heritage thought lost and so on.

To put it very briskly: an established Sparxshipping relationship adds nothing to the plot. It would have to be a plot of its own, and while there are tons of fascinating plot threads you could weave back into Domino, Bloom's family and the war before the Fall, it is simply, plainly, and rightfully so not the story Winx Club is telling.

Winx Club, at its core, is about the girls and their friendship. That is the show I love, and that is the show I am invested in. Fanfiction is a separate thing, I’ll get into that later. But canon, commercially produced and globally aired Winx Club is what we are talking about now. And the one defining truth of Winx Club is that it’s about the Winx. Their boyfriends are the side note, the Kens to their Barbies, to cement them as the cool popular teenagers younger kids are supposed to see them as. If Bloom and Valtor had a lasting serious relationship, Valtor would inevitably have to be shoved into that category as well, and that would ruin the entire appeal of him.

To boil it down even more: if sparxshipping were canon, either Winx Club would have to shift away from its intrinsic premise and formula, or Valtor would have to be diminished beyond recognition. So my longstanding opinion has always been: don’t make sparxshipping canon. Just don’t.

What I, personally, would do if I were ever to gain access to the mythical and likely overcrowded writing room at Rainbow SpA, is this:

Tease the fuck out of it.

Lean into their fucked up little hate-obsession. Every time they share the screen they have to be radiating unresolved sexual tension. Their chemistry has to be so off-the-charts it sparks a million fanfics before the season even ends. If there aren’t so many crappy amv's set to angsty Taylor swift songs it brings down the YouTube servers by midnight you have failed. Because canon is bound to certain limits, but fanfiction is NOT. The goal of any show should be to create something that will awaken an inescapable need to build on it, to continue where it left off, or to wonder but-what-if? To make people text incoherent keysmashes to their fandom buddies with shaky hands in the middle of the night and be unable to sleep until they’ve confirmed their buddy has seen it too.

I would want to see Bloom go fully I-have-lost-sight-of-everything-but-revenge until her friends manage to pull her back, I would want them to fight so vehemently the structures around them collapse and they don’t even notice. They should be in situations where they are UNDENIABLY going to die if they fight on and they still do it, they literally CANNOT stop, they don’t care to. To the point that everyone around them is seriously concerned and talking about their terrifying obsession with each other, more or less out in the open. And after a season full of epic fight scenes, high stake conflicts and frankly obscene tension between them, I would want Bloom to kill him.

Straight up.

Give her that moment of calm self assurance, at peace and perfectly in control, while Valtor tries to gaslight-gatekeep-girlboss his way out of this, contrasting the way her support network and genuine, unconditional friendships strengthen her while Valtor, who is always sabotaging everyone around him, is forced to confront his own powerlessness in the face of the power that created him. His manipulation attempts have nothing to latch on to. They have one last exchange where Valtor is visibly furious at her denial of him / his own failure — to really drive home that this is Bloom's triumph — but the last words they exchange are cordial. Maybe a comment at her growth, or a warning about his mothers, or another way to foreshadow future threats — if he couldn’t defeat her, no one should. He ends on a high note, but he does end, and it’s at Bloom's hands. She retakes the corrupted spark into the Flame she is guarding, and that is that.

And then, and this is important. He fucking haunts her for the entire next story arc. The next season, the next two seasons maybe, because she has learned a fuck ton of things from him and it is really, really difficult to move on knowing everything she does, knowing everything he implied or hinted at, or simply knowing so many really, really cruel ways to get her way now, which isn’t who she wants to be, but it would be easy, quick and effective for the greater good, right?

Boom, character conflict for the next season established, lots of potential for future flashbacks or visions, Valtor stays on his high horse of forever-the-juiciest-fucking-villain-of-the-franchise and the story can move on.

The End

Cue three decades of mind-blowing fanfiction. We all say Thank you Rainbow and cry ourselves to sleep thinking about what could have been.

#sparxshipping #asks #the ugly truth is that a perfect piece of media that gives everyone what they want is not a piece of media that inspires a lot of fan works #fandom to me is so much more fun there is that gap. that whole of teased-but-unexplored potential #with enough canon material to sustain it and go of #but even more questions and what ifs and theories and fuck it I’ll do it myself #you feel me?

[grifff17]

Audiodrama Sunday 4/7/2024

Lots of stuff to listen to this week. I really need to stop starting these writeups at 11:30pm on Sunday evening.

Loved the new Dear Liisphyra this week. I thought that the sponsor for this episode was really funny. I laughed out loud and looked like to an insane person to some guy I was walking past when they said that every weapon box comes with 50 feet of hempen rope.

Season 2 finale of @backagainpodcast! Man I love the themes of this show. It's such a well written tragedy, the dramatic irony is so good. Also I desperately want to know more about the other Soldier. We know several very relevant details about him but very little else.

New @spoutlore-blog was fun. Billie is such a good character, Jessica plays the "immortal child" trope so well. This show really puts the coolest worldbuilding you've ever heard with the dumbest dick jokes in existence. I still haven't gotten over the spider and the hummingbird.

Speaking of Spout Lore, the new Rude Tales of Magic episode has Abdul Aziz as a guest. He was a great guest, his style of humor fits perfectly with the setting of Piss Harbor. Are all the characters he plays street rats with a heart of gold. Excited to see who they bring on as guests in the future. They had Zac Oyama a few episodes ago, I would be excited to see more Dimension 20 people.

The new @midstpodcast was super interesting! Every episode in this season they've introduced another way that the Trust is incredibly fucked up. Why can't we go back to the Mother's Merciful, they were so nice.

Somehow I fell behind on @storiesfromylelmore. I'm not sure how that happened, I think my podcatcher didn't update or something, because I've been listening to new episodes of this show immediately. The second most recent episode was great, with Rion going through werewolf puberty. The most recent episode had some really good character work, with character development for all 3 main characters. I love this show so much.

New episode of SCP: Find Us Alive. A new Dash Two being created is really interesting, we've only had Dumptruck and Hiway Robbery for so long it's weird for there to be a third one. Where did they even get a bird?

I reached the crossover with Forgive Me in @kingmakerpod. Forgive Me is such a grounded show, especially by audiodrama standards, which tend to be way out there, so it's so funny when they cross over with shows that have such a wildly different tone and premise. The character interactions were on point though.

@camlannpod the fairy world! This show continues to have really cool takes on myths. The idea that you can shed a Name simply by going by something else is interesting. Could some random person start going by Lancelot and gain magical powers? The reveal at the end was great too, both from a worldbuilding standpoint and a character perspective.

Man that really was a lot. Lots of stuff to look forward to next week as well!

#audiodrama sunday #audiodrama #audio fiction #dear liisphyra #back again back again #back again pod #spout lore #spout lore podcast #rude tales of magic #midst #midst podcast #midst pod #stories from ylelmore #stories from ylelmore podcast #scp: find us alive #the kingmaker histories #kingmaker podcast #camlann pod #camlann podcast

[marzipanandminutiae]

I see you talking about ouat and it unlocked thoughts that have been neatly filed away for years so here I am, yelling them at you.

I assume at this point spoilers arent a problem anymore for you but you said you originally didn't watch past the frozen but a warning just in case.

I kept watching for quite a long time, but I quit after the whole thing with ruby and Dorothy because what? it just felt so incredibly forced and badly written? and I'd gotten so annoyed because before we'd already had the whole thing with aurora and mulan, which I was rooting for but okay, that didn't work out, too bad for mulan. then we get a perfect set up for ruby and mulan. and it's just. never mentioned again???? ruby comes back eventually but wtf happened to mulan? it annoyed me so fucking much let me tell you.

also I remember trying to write out family/relationship trees and stuff for ouat to see how weirdly convoluted everything got. was very impressed that it seemed they managed to avoid accidentally having incest or something in the show with everything that was going on there.

I have so many more things but this has already gotten way longer than intended. do you have a favourite part of the show? I'm assuming your favourite characters is either regina or emma?

Oh man all of that brings back memories. I didn't stick around long enough for Ruby and Dorothy, but I got the sense that they were doing it to try and counteract the "avoiding Swan Queen because homophobia" allegations.

(I actually don't think they WERE avoiding Swan Queen because of homophobia, necessarily. I think it was never their intent to begin with; they just happened to attract a sapphic audience who were deeply on the Enemies to Lovers train. I do think they may have indulged in a bit of queerbaiting, though, because of some Emma/Regina moments that happened after the writers definitely knew the ship existed. I think it was never going to be canon, but they handled it poorly once they realized that people saw it as an option.)

I stopped watching around Frozen for a couple of reasons:

On a personal level, I just got sick of seeing the characters I shipped with other people. That's not an objective problem; it's my opinion and not everyone will agree. But to me, Hook was a whiny insecure manchild and Robin had the personality of Clippy the MS Word paperclip, and damnit, I wanted Emma and Regina to kiss each other instead of them!

On a This Is Bad Storytelling level, I HATED how Frozen was integrated. Earlier stories had been a nice blend of traditional fairytales with Disney adaptation elements- Beauty and the Beast where Gaston and Chip are both kind of there but in subtler ways, for example, or Cinderella where her dress resembles the 1950s animated version but everything else is different. Frozen, though, was just...Frozen. The entire plot of the movie Frozen had happened before the characters entered the OUAT storyline, their costumes were identical to those in the movie, and while I've heard that they added some different backstory- it just wasn't the "Hans Christian Andersen story with subtle Disney touches" that I would have expected from earlier seasons.

Personally, I don't think the initial curse should have been broken in a season. I feel like that locked them into a pattern of having to continually invent a new Darkest Evilest Most Powerful Magic EVER!!!!! to top the previous season, and that took them to some really weird places (I heard they went to literal hell at one point?). The show had a cool premise and some interesting ideas- I loved how they managed to give individual kingdoms distinct cultures and even fashions. You can tell the "look" of Snow White's kingdom from Cinderella's and Cinderella's from Ariel's, etc.

Everyone who would watch an entire season of Abigail's Ancient Greek Steampunk-ish kingdom, raise your hands. Seriously, so cool.

But something went wrong, IMO around season 4. I'm not sure if the show had just outlived its original concept or had outside pressures pulling it in different directions or what. All I know is, as far as I'm concerned, the show ends when Emma and Henry leave Storybrooke in season 3A. Pity It Was Cancelled So Soon, etc.

(although OOC Matronly SnowTM would have been perfect for live slug reaction memes, so there's that)

#long post #ask #once upon a time #ouat #anon

[stormblessed95]

Hi how are you fine I hope,...umm do you have a list of Manga or Anime that I could read or watch? If you have a list to start off with on your blog I would greatly appreciate. I used to read manga all the time but life happened so if you don't mind thank you...Happy Holidays.

I'm still new and haven't seen so much! Here is what I'll do, I'll give you a list of what I've seen and what I thought about it though!! It'll go like this:

Media Title (version I've seen it in, anime or manga, etc): my thoughts

and then you can take them as recs or not lol

Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood (anime): SO GOOD. It was the second anime I watched ever and it's what really got me hooked. Lol it's just pure good solid story telling and is just truly amazing in every way. I love it so much

Ouran High School Host Club (anime): it was fine. Lol good moments, funny moments, cute moments. Lots of weird ass tropes that I didn't love lol. Good palate cleanser but not my favorite and not one I continued to really spend time thinking about after

Demon Slayer (anime & manga): a new obsession after I watched it. I had to then go read it because I was obsessed with the story and couldn't wait. The most beautiful animation too. Tragic and hopeful and amazing. Made me cry a few times and does flashback so well lol

Yuri on Ice (anime): so good. So cute. So gay. I have posts on this anime on here from when I was watching it. Lmao I'll just link that here. I'm still obsessed.

Spy x Family (anime & manga): I actually read the manga first and then found the anime and it's just so wholesomely wonderful in every aspect. I love the story so much. I love the romance. The slowburn is so slow is painfully good. I ship it SO HARD. The domestic family life of a Spy, assassin and telepath is everything I didn't know I needed

Buddy Daddys (anime): 2 dude (they make a good ship too honestly lol) assassins accidental baby acquisition. It's as funny as it sounds with some surprisingly dark and sad and emotional backstories and moments. Just a really great time. Short and quick watch too. Link to my rec post too

The Yakuzas Guide to Babysitting (anime): it was okay. Lol cute and fun but nothing that stuck with me. Found this one off my Spy Family and Buddy Daddy's high while looking for something similar lol

The Ice Guy and his Cool Female Colleague (anime): cute and fun but man some of the episodes dragged and were a little slow. The romance was just okay too but had some really adorable moments

Sasaki to Miyano (anime): SO CUTE. God the whole premise is the BL romance and the slow burn is soooo slow but istg. The tropes are so good too. The importance to consent is beautiful. Literal BL tropes all over the place as the MCs is a BL fan and introduced his LI to BL lol my rec post here. And my post over a clip of the new movie too.

A Silent Voice (anime movie): excellent movie. Sad as fuck. I cried so much. Lol all the trigger warnings though. Please read the trigger warnings

Your Name (anime movie): excellent movie. I still think about it all the time. I just read a book that pulled inspo from this movie. I had tears STREAMING DOWN MY FACE at the end.

Sk8 the Infinity (anime): so good. So wholesome. So gay (it's canon gay, fight with the wall, I don't care lol) just a little show about skateboarding. Who knew it would be SO GOOD. My rec post. My matchablossom brain rot post

Naurto, Naruto Shippuden (anime): OBSESSED. I watched this show with my partner as part of his "I'm introducing you to anime" series he has for me. Lol and clearly he was going to introduce me to the classics. Yes One Piece and Bleach are on his lists for us to watch together too.

Haikyuu!! (anime & manga): Look, with this being the 3rd sports anime I watched, I'm convinced all sports animes create so many ships low-key on purpose. Lmfao in all honesty though, it's so good. Never in my life would I have imagined getting so invested into volleyball. But here I am.

Jujutsu Kaisen (anime and I'm starting the manga now too): IM SO OBSESSED ITS NO LONGER FUNNY AND THIS SHOW IS SO MEAN LATELY. I had to go buy the manga because I CANNOT HANDLE WAITING FOR NEW EPISODES OH MY GOD. WISH ME LUCK READING I GUESS My post

Bungo Stray Dogs (anime): I started this show for Dazai. Found him on TikTok. Stayed for the weird ass powers and the absolute utter nonsense that is this whole world. Nothing makes sense and we are all just here for the vibes. Yes I fucking love it, thanks lmfao My post

Link Click (donghua): started this on a whim because I got a random rec video on my algorithm and found it on Crunchyroll and I was told it was gay. There is so little gayness in the grand scheme of this show I felt so unprepared for what it was. Lmao I have never in my life had a show hit me so hard in my emotions off the bat EVERY SINGLE TIME. BUT ITS SO GOOD?? I told my husband I start each episode going "so how are you making me cry this time link clink??" The twists twist so hard it hurts, but in a way I love. I need the next season like now. my God.

Blue Eye Samurai (anime sort of): my NEWEST obsession. I NEED SEASON 2 PLEASE. I said sort of about anime because it is animated and it's set in Japan, but it's not from Japan so it's not really an anime.... Lol but it's on Netflix. It's not for children. And it's so good. Go watch it. Only 8 episodes. The story is immaculate. My post

Inuyasha (manga): read the manga and thoroughly enjoyed myself as a super fast and fun read!! Really just there a good time lmao

Yona of the Dawn (manga): SO CUTE and yet intense too. My sister put me on this one as one of the first manga series I started reading and I just ate it all up. If we ignore some of the weirder tropes it throws at you in the beginning, it's just fabulous lol I love it

Mo Dao Zu Shi (donghua): read the books, watched the donghua, watched the live action too lol. The brain rot is SO REAL. Like these characters live rent free forever. Thanks. You can find tons of posts for MDZS and TGCF(heaven Official's blessing) in my master list on my other blog @moonofthesurvivor

Heaven Official's Blessing (donghua): SAME AS MDZS THATS ALL LMAO

No. 6 (anime): loved it, sci-fi dystopian madness and so gay. My rec post here

Given (anime): so gay.... So sad.... So healing... That kiss though! That backstory! The songs are actually so good! I love that it's just a band full of gay people. My post here too

Magical Revolution of the Reincarnated Princess (anime): politics meets isekai (done well) meets lesbian romance, meets magical epic battles and showdowns, meets badass ladies saving the world. Literally everything you could want

Hunter x Hunter (anime): I am watching this one now and have been for a little bit. This is the current one I'm watching with my partner in his list of animes he wants to introduce me too. I'm having SO MUCH FUN with this one but I also am hurting a little. Lol yes he warned me about the ants. Yes I'm not having fun with this arc. Thanks for asking. I can report back when we finish 😂

And for those who will want to know yes, I've got lots on my list to still watch and work through. Lol I'm always open to taking more suggestions though too!!

[thepaintpirate]

may I request a f!reader x luffy? Where he saves her from being hurt and instead of her being thankful she’s saying how she didn’t need his help and walking around bruised up😓He just wants to help her but she doesn’t let herself, kinda aggressive reader but she comes around (。’▽’。)

Thankyou for the request! I love this idea and Luffy is one of my faves so I'm down.

So while I was thinking about this I thought of a scenario with a marine because I felt like it fit the bill for someone who didn't want his help. Sorry if that's not entirely what you wanted but I still have a fic to offer with the premise you requested. I hope you enjoy it because I love Luffy and I put my heart and soul into this.

Help - Luffy x F!Reader

Contents: Luffy x F!Reader who is a marine, saved by Luffy. Contains mentions of injuries.

Being among the named ranks of marines, you pride yourself in your ability to get a job done. Not only that but as a young marine racking up success with each promotion you got, there came a responsibility to be true to everyone's expectations. It was with hard work, effort and incredible amounts of training that you succeeded and continued to succeed. You could continue to be who everyone wanted you to be, who the people needed you to be. Especially with current world events.

But with that pride came risk. 

And you'd finally fallen from your pedestal, happening to be the very same moment you met him.

Once more the doctor, a strange little reindeer you believed, tried approaching you. Even if he looked cute or innocent, you knew that deep down he wasn't at all what he appeared to be. He was a pirate, and pirates never mean well. You took a small swipe at him to get him to back off as you previously had, making him back up with a nervous expression. You weren't willing to risk him making your injuries worse, especially not with you already being so vulnerable and kidnapped on an enemy ship. Their ship.

He dusted himself off and glared at you, finally seeming to lose his cool like you'd hoped. Maybe he'd get frustrated and leave you so you could plan your escape. Steam came out of his nose as he hissed at you, "Do you have to be so stubborn and prideful!? We just saved you, Luffy just saved you so can you please just let me take a look at you? You'll get an infection…" he whispered the last part, once again his eyes looked sympathetic rather than angry.

But you couldn't trust that trickery, pirates deceive easier. You wouldn't bend and you certainly wouldn't break. With your bank pressed against the wall of a cabin on their ship you coughed, trying to send a kick his way. "Just piss off and leave me be, pirate!"

The reindeer sighed, walking down the corridor to leave. You heard his hoofs click on the planks as he disappeared, finally leaving you. 

When all was quiet you sat up and felt an awful sting in your ribs, likely broken from the explosion. It had sent you flying and you could hardly recall exactly how the scene went, but you did know that pirates took advantage of your weakness and took you. Now you were stuck, unsure if your crew were even alive, on an enemy ship with a high likelihood of bleeding to death.

Finally you gathered the strength to leave the bowls of the cabin, wanting to inspect where you were on the ocean. If only it was night soon you could read the stars. Then wait and steal a row boat to go home. If only your damned arm wasn't so busted you could row it but you'd have to drift off if you wanted to ever regain movement in the limb. 

Once you limped outside you found no one was there so you once again took a seat, laying in wait. For a minute or two you stared before your eyes got heavy, letting the waves lull you to sleep. That peace was soon broken when a weirdly gummy finger poked your cheek.

You hissed and reared away, the cut on your cheek was still very sore. With your eyes open again you could see the Strawhat captain himself, dangerously close for comfort. With the proximity to your advantage you leaned forward with all your strength and pushed him away from his crouched position, sending him on his ass a meter away. "Get off!"

He fell back and looked at you incredulously. "Hey what was that for!?"

"Mind your business you damn pirate and stay away from me" you said, feeling out of breath. You sat back again and could feel the throbbing of your injuries. If he wanted to kill you it would be very very easy.

Strawhat sat up, huffing like a peeved toddler. "Nuh uh lady, you're on my ship so you listen to me! If I wanna be here I can and if I wanna heal you I will!"

You narrowed on him but your lip quivered in disgust. The Strawhat captain was known for being childish but seeing it up close was different. And heal you? You wouldn't trust him to even heal himself!

"I'm not going to listen to you pirate, and you won't heal me I don't need your help".

His raven hair was messy as he scratched awkwardly, looking like he was thinking. Confusion swept over him. "Lady, I saved your butt when that ship went boom so why are you being so difficult? Why don't you want to be healed?"

It was obvious, surely! Pirates don't help people, they hurt people. It's why you'd met him in the first place…

You were tracking a slave ship run by an organised crime syndicate who allied with pirates. As you continued to research them the closer you got to catching them. It went well at first with your first two successful raids on cargo ships, but they got wise and you got cocky. When you arrived they were in open battle with the Strawhat crew which gave you a great cover to steal onto their ship and free the bay full of child slaves.

As an hour passed, they were on one ship to the next in safety. Or that was until you were spotted. You ordered your crew to leave you but they were too loyal to you. They defied you and stayed, fighting at your side. Once half your crew was on the enemy deck a sly pirate seemed to realise you were winning, sacrificing himself to blow up himself with you all on the ship. It made you black out before you could see what became of them or the slaves on your boat.

With that bitter thought in mind you yelled at him. "You don't help people and I don't need your help! People like you make the world a worse place and now my crew are gone and it's because I couldn't realise what was happening in time. Now get out, I don't need your help!" You grabbed the nearest thing, a stray rock on the deck, and hurled it at him.

Strawhat ducked and stood up, taking his turn to yell at you. "Your crew are fine and we made sure of that! Those slaves are fine too! But you aren't, so stop being like this and let me help you!" He lunged at you, easily overpowering you.

You tried to fight but he held you down before lifting you up and retraining you. It hurt like hell and you cried out in pain, causing him to let you go. With a bump you made it back to the fool, holding your chest. Something was wrong, the pain was ten times worse and you could taste blood in your mouth. Slowly you looked at Strawhat who was as white as a ghost, standing there with what looked like guilt. For some reason you knew he hadn't meant to make it worse.

But the pain was overwhelming you again and you closed your eyes, falling from your knees and clutching yourself. Strawhat broke from his icy state and scooped you up like a bride, running towards the cabins and calling the doctor's name in panic. Before you knew it, you'd passed out.

When you woke up, you were in a white bed in a room you couldn't recognise. If you remembered we'll, you could assume it was the medical room.

But what surprised you even more was the chair by your bedside, occupied by the very same person who'd put you there in the first place. Strawhat Luffy had his eyes closed as he slept, his mouth wide and drooling. You were going to reach out and touch him when a voice stopped you.

"Cuts that were inches deep, a head injury, a shattered elbow on your left arm, broken ribs and one that happened to pierce your internal organs. Commander, you're incredibly lucky to be alive" a cold, feminine voice informed you. Looking up, you recognised her to be Nico Robin in the doorway with her arms crossed. She looked upset.

You couldn't even reply before she pulled out a chair and sat down by your bedside, giving you a hard and judging stare. "You're lucky to be alive and it's because of Luffy that you are. If you'd continued to refuse help you'd be dead". She glanced at Strawhat Luffy, her eyes softening momentarily. "He insisted we bring you on board, you know, as soon as he saw your body hit the water. In your last moments of consciousness on that deck, you defended your crew and they lived. We let them go so they could recover but in return we took you for further treatment".

She stroked Luffy's hair out of his eyes and in his sleep he sighed and drooled more. It was rather cute to see him look like that in a way. He'd saved you too, and insisted that you got treated but you denied him because you didn't believe him or his doctor. You thought he put the reindeer up to it to kill you.

"If you're asking yourself why, there is no reason. Luffy doesn't do things because of reasons, he does it because he can. And it takes a while to get used to it as well as his stubbornness but even you might come to tolerate it as you stay with us" she said, giving you a smile.

You couldn't move your lips at all. You wanted to deny her claim but you couldn't. By now you knew it to be true and that he really did mean well, he'd even made his crew follow that order to save you. A pirate who cared. "How long have I been out?" Is all you could muster.

She looked at a clock on the wall, watching it click away. The sky outside of the port hole was pitch black. "5 days roughly. He hasn't left your side since. Not even for a meal, we have to bring it to him".

The famous pirate liked his meals so that definitely was out of character. And all that for you, a selfish prideful idiot who couldn't accept anyone's help. Couldn't accept defeat. Couldn't accept that you'd failed. What would your higher-ups say if they knew, and the people who relied on you. A fraud who needed a pirate's help. And now you'd come to realise that he even had more compassion than you, if the roles were reversed you couldn't trust yourself to do the same. 

"U-wuh, oh Robin. Is it morning?" Luffy woke with a yawn, sitting up from his uncomfortable position.

The archaeologist laughed. "No captain, it's still night. I was just talking to Commander (Y/n) as she's now awake".

He processed it then finally looked like he understood, realising what she'd said. For some reason he looked excited? Just because of you? "They are!? Oh hi (Y/n), are you okay now? I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't mean to. I just wanted to help but you wouldn't let me".

The boy looked dreadfully sorry, and now you actually believed him because of what Robin had said. You allowed yourself a very brief smile. "Yes, I'm fine. But you didn't hurt me, it was an injury I already had. You actually saved me, if you'd given up on me I would have died".

He looked thoughtful before taking your hand gently, lifting it up and shaking it. "No problem, but now we need to make a promise".

You were surprised. "A promise?"

"Uh huh! I'll promise to never hurt you again and you'll promise to let me and Chopper look after you until you're all better!" He said, putting his pinky out.

You gazed at it for a second before panning to Robin. She nodded at you and you complied, offering your own pinky. "Alright, deal".

He chuckled and you shook pinkies. Boy, he really was childish like they'd said.

For the next few weeks you let them look after you. Luffy visited every day to keep you company and Chopper checked on you regularly, Robin stopped by a few times but was scarce while you were bedridden.

When the time came to start walking again you were awkwardly introduced to his crew, most of whom looked both amused and unimpressed by you. They probably knew about your brat behaviour when you first arrived. Soon they began to tolerate you at the behest of the captain who never left your side. Zoro was quiet and didn't bother you, Nami was trying to get you to pay her in some way and Usopp avoided you like the plague unless it was dinner time. Sanji however was a bother, overly friendly and tried to be chivalrous. 

What did surprise you is that it wasn't your own annoyance that drove him away, but rather the deathly glares he got from Luffy. You thought he liked his crew a lot and he did, but it seemed for now he was more bothered by Sanji than he'd ever been. You wondered why.

Everything you did, Luffy was there. 

He helped you to walk, even if it was embarrassing and you tried getting him to stop. At dinner he sat by you and at night he was at your bedside on a mattress by the floor. You'd talk into the night though at first you were hesitant to share, he seemed to get you to open up like a book. Luffy was way more than meets the eye and now you feel like the government and the news were cheating him by not portraying his image accurately. This man wasn't evil, sure he wasn't a saint either but he wasn't like how they described him.

When you needed to bathe with help he offered before anyone could even speak, putting the responsibility on himself rather than say Robin or Chopper.

It made you dreadfully red when he asked and you wanted to say no, but there really was no other choice. But your fears dissolved when he gave you the privacy you needed to get undressed and into the tub, then back out of the tub and dressed. All he ever did was talk to you as you soaked, washed your hair and scrubbed the modest part of your body. Luffy, although not the smartest, was more respectful of you than anyone you'd ever met. Even your colleagues weren't this nice. You contemplated that dilemma often.

On another night when he bathed you, around a month since he'd taken you in, you were talking as usual and looking back on how you'd been on the very first night of your stay. Nowadays your behaviour made you extremely disappointed in yourself, but Luffy never judged.

He pulled his hands through your hair as he poured a cup of water over you, gently rinsing the suds from your hair. Your back was to him and your knees were up to your chest in the water, both laughing to each other and something or another. "So you know my gramps? He must've been a rough teacher!"

You sighed nostalgically. "Of course, but still a caring one. He's one of the best marines I know. Coby too, Helmeppo as well even if he's a brat" you both burst out laughing.

You hadn't seen them in so long since your last promotion. Akainu was pushing you so hard and you were feeling the pressure of his "unyielding justice" on your shoulders. You didn't even believe in that so why did you still comply? With all of those thoughts you reminded yourself that you stayed for your crew, for the safety of the people in these dangerous times. But now with all of this new information, who really was the danger?

"Luffy" you said, feeling unsure.

He stopped combing your hair and rested his arms on the side of the tub, shifting to the side to face you. His sleeves were rolled around you could see the delicious curve of his muscled forearm- but nevermind that. "Yeah (Y/n)?"

Oh you loved it when he looked at you like that. His brown eyes were so lively and warm, like firewood. "I- I don't know what to do".

"What do you mean?" He asked, tilting his head at you.

You were torn between two different choices. Between your honour and the life you'd been taken from, your family of crew were waiting for you. And between Luffy. His life, his way and his cause. Because from what you knew, it seemed like he did more good than you ever could as a marine. If you stayed, if he let you, maybe you could still help whilst being free from the burdens of expectation.

It would hurt your crew, Coby and Helmeppo and Garp. Maybe not Coby so much, he'd always been a sap for Luffy even when you hated him. But now it was different.

"I don't know if I should go back, or if I should stay with you here" you said honestly, a tear cascaded down your face and into the water.

Luffy looked worried. "You want to stay here?"

Did he not want you to stay? You'd read the signs wrong and thought maybe he wanted you here. Or was it to get you to go home faster… "What do you want me to do?"

He gave you a look you couldn't read and you hadn't even registered how close he was. Your bath water was getting cold and you could feel your skin prune. "You want me to tell you what I want you to do? (Y/n), if I told you what I wanted then I don't know what you'd say to me". His eyes held a unique glimmer that he never gave anyone else. Like it was only the two of you on the entire planet.

You whispered to him. "Tell me Luffy".

His lips were practically hovering over yours and your heart was so dizzy in your chest that you couldn't even count the beats. Your ears pounded with emptiness as you waited and his skin ghosted over yours. "If I tell you, I don't think I'd be able to let you go even if you chose to". 

"Could you show me then, if you can't tell me?"

Luffy raised his hand quickly and held the side of your face and chin, pulling your face towards his and planting an exhilarating kiss onto your lips. It was like lightning had struck and all you could do was follow his lead. You felt the water splash as you continued to move, kissing heatedly between the tub and where he sat.

Luffy's surprised you, biting your lip quickly and then forcing his tongue into your mouth. You wanted to gasp or to say something but all you could do was keep going, you never wanted it to stop. It became hot and wet as he continued to dominate the kiss and entangle his hand into your hair like he'd die if he let go.

When you both needed to breath he pulled off and you momentarily tried to follow him, the both of you still close and basically breathing each other in as you caught your breath. Luffy looked dazed, but that gleam you saw was still there. He put his hand onto your chin instead, a thumb on your wet lip.

"Do you understand what I want (Y/n)? I can't let you go now, so please don't go" he pleaded with you.

You smiled, pecking him quickly on the cheek which made his face heat up. He really was acting as if he hadn't just made out with you, pink like he was innocent. 

"I think you know what my answer is Luffy, I wouldn't have kissed you if I was going to leave". You teased him with a hand on his face and soon the two of you just began to laugh quietly as the water cooled down entirely.

The night air was filled with the joy of a decision made correctly. 

Also I didn't really write Luffy as oblivious in this one because to me it could be either, but when he knows he knows.

I hoped this was as enjoyable to read as it was to write, please I'm open for more requests and be reminded I also will do NSFW if it's requested.

Let me know if you want a second part to this, I could see how I could expand from this and do an extra scene *hint hint wink wink*

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x y/n #monkey d luffy x you #fem reader