#SORRY BUT THAT TAKE NEEDED TO DIE A SLOW AND PAINFUL DEATH | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

callsign-rogueone · 4 months

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the last six years - b.s.

Brennan Sorrengail x reader Only one person has remained by Brennan’s side for the last six years, through the good and the bad. [requested] wc: 3.9k 🏷: SPOILERS FOR FOURTH WING AND IRON FLAME. fatal injury, blood, and multiple character deaths. basically every bad thing that has ever happened to Brennan will be in this series. I took some major creative liberties with this one and made a bunch of stuff up regarding Tyrrish culture, but we’re just gonna breeze right past that. more to come, because Brennan is just so husband material… mans had me giggling and kicking my feet every time he spoke.

“Tairn! We need Naolin!” You scream, praying that he is alive to hear you. “Bren, please, stay with me.”

His chest rises and falls slowly; he's still breathing. Breathing is good. “Y’need to get out of here.”

“No. I’m not leaving you. Eyes open, Bren, please,” you beg, pressing your hands deeper into the wound. “Tairn!”

“Thirty seconds out!” He yells back.

There’s not much you can do. To remove the arrow is a death sentence when you don’t have any medical supplies. It’s the only thing keeping the blood in his body, but even then it’s doing a shitty job; the warm crimson continues spilling out through your fingers, seemingly endless.

“S’ gonna be okay, sweetheart,” Brennan soothes, feeling your panic.

“Bren, you need to stay awake. You can’t die. I can’t keep going without you.” Tears are pouring freely down your cheeks, dripping down onto the dark fabric of his flight jacket.

“You’re bleeding,” he mumbles, ignoring your pleas. He’s slipping away, fast, falling into the slow confusion that comes with a shortage of blood to the brain. “Let me mend you.”

“I’ll worry about myself later. Right now we need to keep you alive.”

Heavy bootsteps enter the room. “Holy shit,” Naolin breathes, at your side in an instant. He digs in his bag, producing sutures and gauze.

If you act quickly, and if by some miracle the arrowhead hasn’t pierced Brennan’s heart, you can keep him stable long enough to find another mender. You break the shaft of the arrow, Brennan whimpering in pain as it shifts within his chest.

“I know, my love, I’m so sorry,” you soothe, wiping your palms on your pant legs and moving to cradle his head in your lap as Naolin takes over. You keep whispering reassurances to him, terrified that if you stop, it’ll sever the last thread holding him in this world. “You’re doing so good, Bren. Almost done, I promise.”

Naolin gives you a look that tells you no, he’s not almost done.

Brennan’s grip on your hand loosens, and you scramble to grab his wrist, bloodied fingers trying to find a pulse -- to no avail. “No,” you cry, tears pouring down your cheeks, “Bren, please wake up, please.”

The slow thump beneath your fingertips stops. Brennan’s heart is no longer beating.

You sob, a desperate sound that splits the air of the ballroom, and Naolin makes his decision, grasping Brennan’s hand and yours. “The two of you need each other.”

“Nao, you can’t-” you gasp at the rush of energy that rips through you, the pain in your broken ribs diminishing instantly. You feel like you’ve been given a shot of pure adrenaline.

Naolin stops breathing just as Brennan starts again, collapsing to the marble floor, and your lips part in shock.

“He is gone,” Tairn confirms, fighting to keep his voice even. “May your gods honor his sacrifice and reward him in the next life.”

“I’m so sorry.”

His eyes are closed. That comforts you in some tiny way, that he looks whole, uninjured, like he could just be sleeping, but you know that isn’t the case.

Brennan’s breaths are even, pulse steady. The wound looks days old now, the fresh blood coating the skin the only evidence that he had nearly died today. He’ll pull through, as long as you can get out of here.

You say a prayer to Malek on your friend’s behalf, casting one last glance at his unmoving body, and gather Brennan into your arms -- he’s still breathing, but limp, exhausted. You can carry him out of here, but where will you go?

A man bearing a crossbolt steps into the ballroom.

You make no movement toward your weapon, still holding Brennan’s body to your chest. “We surrender,” you rasp, praying he will take pity on a pair of bloodsoaked young lovers and their fallen comrade.

He steps closer, not responding.

The words escape you before you can think. The old language feels foreign on your tongue, misshapen from years of disuse. “I am a daughter of the house Lindell, and a citizen of Tyrrendor. I have sworn an oath to-”

“I know who you are, Lady,” he says. “Come with me.”

He stops in front of an abandoned farmhouse, painted gold in the sunset. “Bathe, sleep. I’ll be back when I can.”

You remain by Brennan’s side. You stitch up his wounds, wash the dried blood from his skin, count his heartbeats as he continues to sleep.

Night comes, bringing freezing wind through the cracked windows, and you climb into the bed beside him, pulling the few blankets you’d found over the pair of you. He curls into your side, seeking warmth — his skin is still cold, but not as icy as it had been when you limped him over here.

When you wake the next morning, the man has not yet returned.

“Ban?” You ask quietly. You haven’t heard from the dragon since you’d dismounted over a day ago, but she must still live, as you do.

“Nearby, with Marbh,” she reassures. “Tairn has returned to Basgiath to be with his mate. It will take years for him to recover from this loss, but he will live on.”

You continue to stroke Brennan’s hair, taking solace in the steadiness of his breathing.

“Your devotion to the mender is the strongest I have seen from any human,” she says quietly.

“He has become the air I breathe. It was unbearable when he…” you don’t even want to think the words. “I don’t know what I would have done, had Naolin not intervened.”

Brennan stirs, stretching in the cute way you’ve seen him do so many times after waking up, scrunching his face at the bright morning light streaming into the room. He takes you in, thanking the gods that the only injury you bear is a yellowing bruise on your cheek. A gentle hand cradles your face, and it vanishes.

“Naolin?” He asks quietly, and something tells you he already knows deep down.

You shake your head, your eyes brimming with tears. “He gave his life to save you.”

He looses a shuddering breath, and you gather him into your arms, crying together.

You attempt to mentally prepare yourself to enter the assembly room, adjusting your posture -- shoulders back, chin up, eyes forward.

“Not a word,” you warn Brennan quietly. “Keep your shields up, like I taught you.”

“I didn’t know we were taking prisoners,” a lanky teenage boy calls, eyeing you from his perch on the edge of a table. In the years you’ve been away, he’s grown into his father’s dark features, and the lazy confidence that can only come with a noble title. “I was wondering when you’d be back from playing soldier. Have they brought you here to negotiate?”

“Lovely to see you again too, Xaden,” you say dryly, addressing the boy by name, and Brennan’s gaze whips toward you in shock. “No, I am not here to negotiate. We are here to surrender, and if you will have us, we will take your side in this fight to free Tyrrendor from those who have oppressed her for centuries.”

“They would be an asset to us, should this prove to not be a setup,” one of the elders says, keeping his hand on the hilt of his longsword.

“She has proved her allegiance to Tyrrendor time and time again,” Xaden defends coldly, dismissing the man who looks old enough to be his grandfather. “It is the general's son that I’m more concerned with.”

You look him directly in the eye as you speak, raising your chin. “Sorrengail is a strong rider and skilled mender, but above all, he is a good man. I could not have chosen anyone better to share the crown with when the day comes.”

Brennan looks at you like he has no idea who you are, trying to discern if this is a dream.

Xaden finds this amusing. “She really didn’t tell you? Always so secretive, that one. Your girlfriend is heir apparent to the Duchy of Lindell, as I am to Aretia, where you stand.”

He looks to the elders, who all nod in affirmation, deeming your appraisal of Brennan satisfactory. “It’s good to have you back, Lady. Things were getting boring without you.”

You lower your head to him in thanks, Brennan quickly copying you.

You tug Brennan into the hall after you’re dismissed.

“Did you really mean that?” He asks, head still spinning.

“Every word,” you reply. “From the moment you extended that hand to me in our first year at Basgiath, I knew you were good to your core, Brennan Sorrengail. It would be an honor to share my duty with you.”

“Your mate needs you,” Marbh says, making a rare appearance.

Your heart drops. You sprint down the valley trail back to the house, attempting to ascertain what had happened, but you aren’t given a response. Marbh has always been vague.

You find Brennan tucked into a corner of your shared room, back pressed to the wall. He’s clutching a piece of parchment that you recognize to be a Basgiath death roll. He extends it to you wordlessly, and your eyes race down the list, searching for Mira, his mother, another of your friends…

The final name on the list, below the rider’s quadrant cadets, almost as an afterthought… Major William Sorrengail. His father.

“Oh, Bren,” you breathe, gathering him into your arms, “I’m so sorry.”

His entire body shakes with a sob, and it takes everything in you to not cry as well, but you remain strong, needing to be there for him. “I knew I’d never see him again,” he says in a cracked whisper, “but now…” But now it’s real.

You’d never met the man, and now you never will, but you know what a profound impact Brennan’s father had on his life, imparting so many of the qualities that you admire about Brennan; his dedication to his studies, his respect for the scribes that so many others dismiss or overlook, his unwavering compassion…

You offer a silent prayer to Malek on his behalf, asking that He show the scribe the same kindness that he had shown others in life.

“I don’t know why, or how,” Brennan rasps, “I don’t know who was there with him in the end, if Mira and Violet got to say goodbye, if my mother…” he can’t finish the sentence, words cut with shaking breaths. He loses the strength to hold himself up, collapsing into your embrace. “I should be there,” he sniffles, “I should have been there.”

“I know how much you love him. He knew too, I’m sure he did. They all do.” You hold him tighter, stroking his hair. “The girls are strong. They will mourn, but they will get through it together.”

He’s run out of tears, leaving him with a headache and a hollow feeling in his chest. He eventually relaxes, not saying a word as you smooth down the soft waves of his hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He’s fallen asleep. You just hope his dreams will be kind to him.

“Enough,” you command, and all heads turn toward you. “I will not have you disrespect Riorson nor his partner in his own home. Have you forgotten what he has done for our young?”

Ulices stiffens. “My apologies, Lady.” He says the title with an ounce of venom, but yields, returning to his seat.

Violet continues to study you. You’re dressed simply, head to toe rider’s black mixed with traditional Tyrrish leather armor and intricate braids that she has only seen drawn in history books, but it’s obvious in your posture that you’re nobility - you do not dip your head below the horizon even for a moment, and you speak with the confidence that others will listen.

“We have better things to do than argue about what should have happened. There is no turning back time,” you say calmly. “I agree that we have been given a legion of students rather than trained warriors, but it has become our job to train them.”

Brennan speaks next. He’s been silent since the meeting started. “What professors have joined us should resume modified versions of their courses, and we will fill in the gaps. Match up those with similar signets for mentorship. Emeterrio can continue to lead combat training, and Devera Battle Brief. Kaori has not joined us, but I think there is an obvious replacement.”

You’re saddened by the news, but you smile softly at his praise.

Violet realizes that the scribbled amendments in the dragons section of Brennan’s book weren’t Mira’s, but yours. You’ve been close for years, then. You must have brought him here with you when you deserted. Part of her wonders if you’d attended Basgiath because you wanted to, or as a spy.

“Do not question the royal one’s integrity,” Tairn warns her, but does not elaborate further.

“The riot has decided that everyone here can be trusted,” you state. “And if anyone turns out not to be, we will do what we have to do, without hesitation, for the good of the movement.”

There’s sounds of agreement from the other six, and then the meeting is over.

“Hey,” he says softly, leaning against the doorframe, clutching a bloodied rag to his face.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Mira’s fist happened,” he explains, lifting it, and you wince at the sight of his nose, the bridge split and bruising. “I’ll be fine in a day or two.”

Your heart twists. Brennan hasn’t been able to see his sisters for nearly a decade, spending the last six years in hiding and the two before that stationed across the continent with hardly enough leave to travel back and forth to Basgiath. For Mira to have punched him straight in the face instead of the tearful hug he’d dreamed of… it must have crushed him.

You press a gentle kiss to his cheek, careful not to bump his nose. “I’ll talk to her,” you say softly. “Go see the healers.”

You’ve only met the middle Sorrengail in passing, nearly ten years ago now, but she’s exactly as Brennan had described her; a younger version of their mother, and just as strong-willed. Evidently, she remembers you, scowling and crossing her arms at the sight of you, but still standing at attention — there’s no missing the Major’s insignia on your chest. Violet stands as well, but doesn’t look as sour as her sister.

You wave a hand. “At ease. I am not here to issue orders, rather to talk about your brother.”

Mira prickles, Violet looking concerned.

You choose your words carefully. “I do not expect either of you to forgive him overnight, nor for you to forgive me for my complacency in this matter. All I ask is that you show him some compassion. It has been hard for him too, being apart from his family. When your father-”

“That is not a sentence you should finish,” Mira interrupts.

“Mira,” Violet scolds softly, “be nice.”

“No,” she snaps, “I don’t think you understand. We mourned him. We called him a hero, thought he died honorably in battle when he really just deserted and changed his name.”

“He did die,” you say, and the eyes of both women flit back toward you. You look over your shoulder. “He bled out on the floor of that ballroom, and his heart stopped. Our friend siphoned away his life to save him.”

“Tairn’s previous rider,” Violet says in a whisper, as if the dragon will not hear her that way.

“Yes. Naolin.” You say his name with a heavy voice. No wonder Tairn won’t speak to her of the one who came before. That explains the gruff dragon’s defense of you, too.

Mira is silent, likely feeling guilt over her outburst as she realizes her brother still lives in the house he’d been killed in, with the son of the man who had ended his life.

“The elders gave him the name Aisereigh — meaning resurrected — as a layer of protection from those who hold vendettas against your mother. It hurt him to take it, and to not be able to give me the Sorrengail name, but it was necessary for his survival.”

Violet’s eyes land on the band circling your ring finger, a smooth strip of silver carved with Tyrrish runes. Brennan had worn a matching one when she’d seen him the day after War Games, but she hadn’t thought anything of it until now. “You’re married.”

You nod. “Three years ago, right on that bluff at the top of the valley, on a gorgeous summer day. Both of us wish those he loves most could have been there.”

“Thank you,” Violet says quietly, “for staying with him through it all.”

“I have been by his side since our first year at Basgiath, and I will remain there as long as we shall live, as I have vowed to,” you reply with the same blunt conviction that she’s used to from Xaden — that must be a Tyrrish thing. “Now please excuse me. I have a class to teach in a few minutes.”

Mira lowers her head to you in a gesture of respect. “I’m sorry,” she says, but she does not say what for.

You give her a soft smile in return, heading back into the house.

“Major Aisereigh will be taking over your dragonkind course, as Professor Kaori did not elect to join us here,” Professor Devera announces.

It’s strange to be standing on the dais as an equal with the woman who’d had a hand in kidnapping you from Brennan’s bed to torture you eight years ago, but nearly everything about your life since that night has been strange.

“I don’t know precisely what Kaori did and did not cover thus far in the term, but given that every person in this room has managed to bond a dragon, you are clearly proficient, and I will treat you as such,” you begin. “Dragons are independent, often to a fault, but do not forget that your health depends on theirs. As riders, you must learn how to care for them properly. That’s what we will be focusing on for the remainder of the term, along with flight mechanics and keeping your seat under stress.”

You glance at Brennan, who is sitting incognito in the back row, broken nose now mended, and he nods, an easy smile on his face. You’re doing great.

The lesson passes easily, your students much more engaged than you remember your peers having been in Professor Kaori’s class.

“I will be needing volunteers to help with the maintenance of the riot while they’re grounded.”

At least thirty hands shoot straight up — half the class.

The trek up the valley wall is never easy, but you make winded conversation with several of the volunteers, mainly nervous first-years who confide that they need the extra practice.

You stop at the top of the trail, cupping a hand to your mouth and calling out a few short notes, and Banrion is at your side in seconds, shaking the ground with her landing. At least a dozen others land nearby, sitting upright in waiting.

“You’ve brought children,” she appraises, eyeing them with distaste.

“Cadets,” you correct, “that you will be helping me teach. So be nice.”

She chuffs softly. “Fine.”

“I have chosen some more agreeable members of the riot to aid me today, to ease you into their care, but let me make this clear,” you say to the class, who have retreated to give you and Ban a healthy distance. “the majority still find it deeply offensive to be addressed by a human that is not their rider. Unless your bonded has joined us today, please refrain from speaking to any directly.”

You wait for nods of affirmation. “Banrion and I will demonstrate pre-flight checks once, and then you will split into groups of two or three to do the same with the remainder here.”

Once you get everyone settled, you find Brennan — he’d tagged along quietly, not wanting to part ways after the morning’s chaos.

“Well done, Professor,” he says, smiling. “You just might make this a day job.”

You laugh. “Is this everything twenty-year-old Bren thought it would be?”

“It is,” he says quietly. “And more.”

You gaze out at the field of cadets. “Marked and unmarked, living in harmony.”

Brennan squeezes your hand in acknowledgment, remembering how scared you had been when the first marked ones left for Basgiath, and each year since. It had hurt you deeply when not all of them returned.

Tairn stalks up to you, dipping his head in greeting. “Good to see you again, royal one.”

You smile. “Glad you’re still around, big guy. You have made an excellent choice in Violet. How is the golden one?”

“Still dreamless,” he answers, not deigning to reply to your compliment.

You worry your lip between your teeth, concerned.

He casts a glance around at the young cadets in the vale, who are taking their tasks very seriously. “You remain as revered a leader as you were at Basgiath.”

You’re actually touched, but you won’t dare mention that to Tairn.

“It is not an easy feat to raise young,” a green scorpiontail says in agreement, looking down fondly at the first-years that are inspecting her claws for cracks, “but the two of you are doing a fine job.”

You smile. “And how are your young?”

“Safe,” she answers. “You may come see them after dark.”

“It would be an honor.”

“Professor?” A cadet calls from across the field, sounding mildly concerned.

You pull apart from Brennan reluctantly. “Duty calls. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Kiss for your thoughts?” you ask playfully, seeing the weary look on his face. It’s been a long day for him, with multiple arguments among the assembly and all the emotions of reuniting with Mira.

“I have both of my sisters back,” he breathes, still in disbelief. “I thought I’d never see them again.”

You lay a hand on his back, resting your head on his shoulder. “I spoke with them before class. Mira was particularly upset, but she softened when I told her what really happened.”

He’s quiet. “She has every right to hate me for what I did. She should despise me for the rest of my life.”

“But she doesn’t,” you remind him gently. “She holds anger, but she doesn’t hate you. You’re her brother, and she knows you love her. You wrote her an entire textbook on how to survive the rider’s quadrant. If that isn’t testament enough, I don't know what is.”

He shakes his head, smiling softly. “How do you always know the right thing to say?”

You grin, moving to climb into his lap. “Because I know you, and I know exactly what goes on in that beautiful brain of yours.”

“Yeah?” he asks, nose brushing against yours, a ringed hand settling on your waist. “What am I thinking about right now?”

“Hmm. Probably about how long of a day it’s been, and how you’d like to unwind after all of it?”

“You’re absolutely right,” he says. “I’ll take that kiss now.”

You lean forward, connecting your lips to his, and the rest of the world falls silent, melting away until all that’s left is you, your husband, and the love you share, love that has endured death itself.

#brennan sorrengail #brennan aisereigh #brennan sorrengail x reader #fourth wing fanfic #reader insert #x reader #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing #mine #dividers by user cafekitsune #Brennan and Duchess

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slasher-male-wife · 5 months

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TWD characters when you tell them about your assault

This is heavily inspired by the post @slasherhaven that they made awhile ago. I've been hyperfixated on TWD lately and I'm still in the middle of watching it, I'm early in season 9 so sorry if these are kind of OOC. Also I am now writing for Maggie and Glenn.

Rick Grimes, Daryl Dixon, Glenn Rhee, and Maggie Rhee

Warnings: Mentions of past sexual assault no explicit details mentioned, murder, canon typical violence, talk of getting killed by walkers, slight season three spoilers

Rick Grimes

When you tell him about what happened to you his heart breaks and he's immediately filled with rage. He doesn't want to leave you alone after you're so open and vulnerable with him about this but he genuinely has to step away to calm himself down about this.

Once he's calmed himself down he'll be quickly back to help comfort you about what happened. Holding you close and letting you vent as much as you need to. Now that he's here he's going to protect you as much as he can and no one is going to hurt you again.

When you give him information on the person who did it to you he thinks not much of it for the time being but when he runs into the piece of filth that hurt you he's seething. But he'll put on a mask until he can really get close enough to get them back.

He's not going to waste a bullet on this sick son of a bitch. He'll made it slow and painful. He'll beat them bloody and make sure they're eaten by walkers before they die.

Then he'll go back home to you and make sure that you're comforted and know that you're deeply loved and appreciated by him. He'll never tell you that he killed them, but he'll always let you know that they can't hurt you anymore.

Daryl Dixon

He's not exactly sure how to go about helping you when you tell him about your assault. Of course he's upset, he's very outraged, but he's not very in tune with his emotions and obviously he's not going to really know how to handle regulating his emotions and help you.

In a rare moment of vulnerability he'll hold you close to him and let you cry out your feelings. He won't say or do much other than hold you close and promise you that no one is ever going to hurt you again.

You gave him details about your assault but he never actually expected to come across that person, especially given the fact that it's the apocalypse. But when he sees the person that hurt you his immediate reaction is to try and kill them.

But he settles on beating them close to death and berating them the entire time about how much of an awful person they are and just how much they deserve what's happening to them. After beating them close to death he'll leave them there and hope that a walker eats them alive.

Just like with Rick he'll get back home and go to give you a hug, which is rare with Daryl. He'll hover close to you for the rest of the day and will be sure to try and show you just how much he cares about you in his own way. He'll also never tell you what he did, he'll just tell you there's no way in hell they can hurt someone ever again.

Glenn Rhee

He's 100% pulling you into a hug when you tell him about what happened to you. He'll be silent the entire time unless you want him to comfort you verbally which he will do if that's what you need to happen.

He'll spend the rest of the day taking care of you and trying to keep your load relatively light. He'll be close to you for the rest of the day and try to make sure that you're not beating yourself up for what happened to you.

When he finds out he knows the person who assaulted you he's livid. He takes them out to a secluded area and threatens them after beating them for a bit. He swears if they ever come near you again he'll kill them.

He personally watches or makes sure that they're long gone before the comes back home to you where he assures you they'll never hurt you ever again. He won't give details but he'll keep assuring you that they'll never hurt you again.

Maggie Rhee

When you explain your assault to her she's heartbroken, immediately pulling you into a hug and holding you there for as long as you need to be held.

If she feels like it could help you she'll talk about her own experience with what happened with The Governor. She'll appreciate how vulnerable you're being with her and she'll feel like she can be vulnerable with someone again.

If she ever comes across the person who hurt you she's going to be overcome with rage and will have to calm herself down to get him back to Hilltop and keep him there while she talks to you about what you want to do about them.

If you want them dead she's happy to help you with killing them, however you want to kill them she'll help, unless you want to do it yourself. She wants to get you justice and if killing them is justice to you then go ahead.

If you don't want them dead she understands that but she'll eventually to it herself. She can't stand the idea of the person who hurt you so horribly being able to go unpunished for what they did to you. Either way after what happens she's going to comfort you again.

#rick grimes x you #rick grimes x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #glenn rhee x reader #glenn rhee x you #maggie rhee x reader #maggie rhee x you #twd fanfiction

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bunnibitez · 5 months

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Messy Hands - Part Two

Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader AFAB

Summary: Miguel just can’t get you off his mind. As a result, he’s always there when you need him most, whether you like it or not.

Word count: 4.6k+

CW: 18+ so MDNI, NSFW, mentions of blood, acts of violence, SA(NOT MIGUEL), stalking, jealousy, possessive behaviors, toxic relationship, mentions of death, slow burn, no use of Y/N

A/N: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO GET OUT BUT I PROMISE ITS GOOD!!! THANK YOU TO MY BETA READER @jshookthighs I FUCKIN LOVE YOU

Part One here

Time never stops.

It marches on, dragging the corpse of yesterday behind it. Time never ceases and neither does the on going battle behind closed eyes and clenched fists. No matter how many deep breaths are sucked in between gritted teeth, no matter how much he prayed, begged, kicked or screamed, time marched on. Taking it’s toll on the world and his soul as it did. With time came its companion, decay. A devious creature that preyed on the innocent and beautiful, corrupting it with it’s touch. That’s how Miguel began to see it all. It was a matter of time until his brain too rotted away until his skull was nothing more than an empty cavity to host his rage rather than his conscience. Every day he could feel the threads of his sanity being pulled taut, and every day he doubted how much longer he could go without being the cause of a fucking masacre.

Wrath.

Rage.

Justice.

So much “justice” due. That’s how he saw it. So many people had done wrong by him; tore him apart, brick by brick. Hurt the people he loved most just to get to him. Until one fateful night, he was left with nothing but a beating heart pumping weakly in a dirty alley, left to die. His chest still tightens at the memory of her. Stolen innocence snuffed out too soon. And yet the ones to blame were left unharmed, hidden behind the ivory walls of their mansions, never truly getting their hands dirty.

Cowards.

If only he had the chance, he’d slaughter them. Watch the life drain from their pathetic bodies as they’d squirm and writhe in pain. Begging for a bullet. But Miguel would take his time with them though, he was patient and knew better than to grant them a sliver of mercy. It was the only lesson his father ever taught him.

But that all would come in due time. Miguel was patient, capable of biding his time until his prey found themselves tangled in his web and unable to escape. But until then much like time, Miguel marched on; dragging a little corpse behind him.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Weeks had since passed at this point, breezing through late spring and bleeding into early summer. The days after the mysterious brute entered Bellagino’s were tense, leaving Mr. Caparelli flighty and panicked. The stout little man could often be found pacing in the kitchen, muttering to himself with a distraught look painted on his face. You didn’t dare ask why he seemed so frightened since his ‘friend’ came to visit, mostly because you yourself seemed a little terrified of him as well. In lieu of your best efforts and his divine features, the man was cold and seemed pestered by your presence at your last encounter. Despite this though, you seem to find yourself staring at him more and more. Since the meeting with Bellaginos’ owner, Miguel had begun to visit the quaint little restaurant every other week or so.

Miguel couldn’t find the motive behind his actions truly. He raked his brain for an answer, disturbing the cobwebs in his head to try and understand why he had to mindlessly sit here and watch. Sit and watch this run down old restaurant like a dog. Sit and feel his shoulders slump as the soft hum began to tune out the buzzing in his mind. He’d come in and plop down at the same little table in the center of the room and the owner would bring him the same ice water with lemon.

For the first two weeks, he had attempted to convince himself it was purely to ensure that Caparelli wouldn’t run out on him. Sure, getting to watch the pretty little thing behind the register try not to stare was fun, but these were just business trips. What did it matter that he started coming in twice a week? What did it matter that he’d feel a twist of disappointment when he’d walk through the creaky little door and not see you in your usual spot because it was your day off? It was just business.

That is until finally he had no choice but to confront the truth. It came at him, sitting in his lap, oozing through his gut and making his stomach tie in knots. It made him nervous and queasy, forced to hide it all behind a stonewall mask. It felt foreign, his thoughts jumbled as he began to lose focus on it all.

‘There’s no way. It’s just work.. It’s just..’

It was a warm night in July and an unusually busy Friday evening at Bellagino’s, due in part to the ongoing festival at the Brooklyn Bridge Park. Fairy lights twinkled overhead in the outdoor dining area, each seat filled with couples and gaggles of laughing friends. Miguel almost didn’t recognize the place with it so full of life. The building had an unfamiliar glow to it that simply complimented it, turning it into the homely feel of a little Italian cottage. Turning his attention to the windows as he approached, he saw you, floating around tables with a smile on your face. His lips parted slightly as he watched you, glowing like an angel in the warm lights.

In your element, twirling to avoid guests with ease, plating food and drinks without spilling a drop. You moved with grace and poise, completely unbothered and confident. It was a complete parallel to how you acted when Miguel was there.

That’s when he felt it. A tugging at his chest and the tightening of his lungs as he held his breath. He could feel his heart thrumming as he stood there, starstruck. For the first time, it wasn’t just a subtle hum, it was a goddamn symphony. A cacophony of harmonious melodies blended together to form the tune playing behind his eyes as he gawked in awe. He couldn’t think straight, his own thoughts being muffled out and pulled to the back of his mind. Sweaty palms clenched into tight fists as he closed his eyes and tried to shake out the cotton filling his head.

‘Think O’Hara… Breathe dammit…’ he reminded himself.

A large hand brushed back loose curls as he inhaled slowly through his nose. He knew he couldn’t stand there staring at you all night like some love stricken fool. He forced himself to move, to draw closer to the siren that called his name without even knowing he was there. His knees buckled, faltering for only a moment as he approached the door. Pushing through, his nerves got the better of him for just a split second and his instincts slipped as his eyes merely tracked you throughout the bustling restaurant. Forgetting to duck his head like he usually did, the top of Miguel’s forehead smacked into the doorframe with a soft thud.

He winced, inhaling sharply as he stumbled inside for a moment. He grit his teeth, more so from annoyance rather than pain. He shut his eyes, hoping to drown out the throbbing at the front of his skull if he rubbed it hard enough. He was grateful that almost everyone else seemed too enveloped in their own mindless conversations to even notice he’d arrived.

Almost everyone.

Approaching Miguel, you looked up at him. His hulking frame would’ve been intimidating had it not been that he slouched a little as he held his head. For the first time since you met him, it made your eyebrows draw upward in concern.

“Sir, are you okay..?”

It took Miguel a moment to open his eyes, his scarlet irises glancing down at you. Slowly he took in the shape of you, nodding his head sheepishly as he swallowed. His hand fell away from his head as he tried to regain his composure. This had been the first time since your initial meeting that you’d spoken to him. Once again, that honey voice triggered the euphoric hum in the back of his mind. Once his gaze met your eyes, he felt his heart skip a beat. They were dazzling and full of genuine concern for him. The kind of eyes that men write poems and hymns about. Sweet irises that he could swim in, but he feared that if he dove in, he’d never come up for air. He’d never seen eyes like yours before. So awestruck that the only response he could give you was a low hum.

You looked down, feeling your bravery caught in your chest. Your eyes darted down to your feet and you cleared your throat, trying to remember the usual script you ran through when a customer arrived.

“R-Right, well… Table for one..?” You asked sheepishly, reaching for a menu. For a moment, Miguel feels his heart stutter. All the confidence you just had somehow managed to seep away in his presence. The way you kept your gaze glue to the floor made him frown, biting the inside of his cheek gently. He could feel the tension rising, an awkward wall you were starting to build. For half a second, Miguel felt a twinge of panic wash over him. He looked at you, searching your body for an out, a way to make things better, to make you less afraid. He swallowed thickly, scrambling his brain to try and think of something to say to lighten the mood or even make you laugh.

“Does it look like I’ve got anyone with me?”

‘Fuck.’

It comes out flat and sarcastic, not charming or teasing as he meant for it to. He internally cringes at himself as he sees the way you retract from him.

“Oh… yeah… Sorry, sir.” You mumble out and begin to guide him to his usual spot. The broken tone of your voice feels like a punch to the gut. A twist of his innards that has him wishing he could turn back time. He’s never been this awkward or nervous before. Usually his callous behavior is intentional and pointed, but now he feels it just makes him look like an ass.

“I’ll be right back to take your order…” Soft spoken and sweet, you place the menu down and walk away. Once seated, he pinches the bridge of his nose in self frustration, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets out an annoyed sigh. He’s never been like this before, never been this much of a mess because of a woman. Usually his suave and charming nature takes over and he’s able to seduce anyone he damn well pleases, but for some unknown reason; you broke him. He groans quietly and shakes his head slowly, feeling the butterflies now pooling in his stomach.

‘Aye carajo, get a hold of yourself..’

It feels like his brain is on fire, criticizing every way the interaction went wrong. He feels his gut twist, pinching his nose with enough force that it starts to hurt and his knuckles turn white. The throbbing only continued as his frustration grew. His face practically morphs into a snarl as he sits and waits. Opening his eyes, he glares down at the menu before him, a pleather bound book with the edges peeling away. He tries to refocus his attention on literally anything else than his blundering attempt at conversation.

Miguel is left grumbling to himself when you return to his side. Silently you place a glass of ice water with a lemon wedge bobbing about the glass beside him. Fear beats quickly along side your heart as you wordlessly reach out your other hand, gently clutching a crude ice pack. It was nothing extraordinary, a little sandwich baggie filled with ice chips and wrapped loosely in paper towel. It’s placed on the table beside the water with care. Miguel eyes it for a moment. He feels his stomach twist again but this time its a different feeling. It flutters and it’s soft with smoother edges than before. His cheeks just hardly flush a soft pink as his features remain contorted into a grimace. Without turning his head more than two inches, he looks at you from the corner of his eye. Your eyes are once again glued to your feet, trembling hands reaching to the pen and notepad tucked into your apron. With your head down and your nose nearly buried to the paper of the little booklet, Miguel can’t see the heat that’s spread across your face.

“A-Are you ready to order..?” You squeak out in a voice hardly above a whisper.

Miguel swallows, clearing his throat as he lifts his head. The pink on his cheeks is beginning to darken as your gaze peers over your little notepad and into his crimson eyes. His face melts from frustration, his brows furrowing just a little as he stares back, trying to remember his words.

“No.. I.. Just the water is fine.” He manages to force out. His hands are absently pulling at the cheap white fabric tablecloth as he looks at you. He swears that if he could freeze time at this moment, he would. The way your gaze softens as you look at him, has him biting his tongue just hardly. The butterflies are flapping wildly about in his stomach. Miguel’s canines dig into the tender flesh as he tries to ground himself, distract himself from how pretty those lashes would flutter as he forced you to look up at him from your knees. Would you let him hold your face still while he pounds into you- he wonders.

Your eyes flit back down to your book and you nod your head.

“Y-Yes sir. If you need anything, j-just call for me.” You hold the little name badge pinned to your chest for him as if he hadn’t eyed it the first twelve times he came in to watch you work. With that, you turn on your heel and leave him. Scurrying to another table while Miguel is left merely watching.

The subtle throbbing beats against his head like a drum before he glances down at the icepack you brought over. It feels so tiny in his hand. He lets out a little groan as he presses the baggie to his forehead, relishing in the relief it just barely provides. He can’t help the smile halfheartedly pulling at the corners of his mouth as he sits there.

‘She really didn’t have to do that…’

But he hardly has a chance to bask in his appreciation when he hears it, just barely audible amongst the chatter.

“Aww c’mon sweet’art. I bet I could show ya a real good time.” The man drawls out, clearly drunk from the second pitcher of sangria he and his buddies were splitting. He’s got a toothy and sloshed grin spread across his face as his hand glides up the back of your thigh. You look mortified, eyes silently screaming for help.

Miguel feels his lip twitch as he rises up from his seat.

“S-Sir please stop..” You squeak out, too quiet for the pickled bastard to hear or care. His hand is pulling back, gearing up for a smack, when suddenly a wide tan palm wraps itself around his wrist. It’s grip is tight and overwhelming when Miguel yanks, nearly dragging the drunk out to the ground in the process.

“No la toques, pendejo.” Miguels spits with venom as he twists the man’s arm. The usual hum that played in your presence was washed out by his rage. No one should be allowed to touch you, especially not some wasted shithead. Gritting his teeth, Miguel has to remind himself that he’s in public. Eyes fly to watch the scene unfold. He grumbles lowly as the man cries out in pain before Miguel practically tosses him back into his seat. He scrambles, nearly falling out of his chair to get back from you and Miguel.

With parted lips, a little gasp escapes you. Miguel feels his conscience flooding in as he looks back at you. Wordlessly, he jerks his head towards the door and starts heading for the exit. His eyes are cold, commanding almost. He grumbles something out loud to Caparelli about leaving in Spanish as his grasp nearly tears the creaky little door off it’s hinges. His eyes trace over you once more before he turns his back on you and lets out a gruff, “C’mon.”

Sticking close behind, you slip out the door as he holds it open.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

The night air is warm, the remnants of the summer heatwave still staining Nueva York. It’s mostly quiet aside from the drone of car engines as they pass by. You’re silently keeping pace with Miguel, feeling your chest rattle from the whole interaction. Frightened, confused, and over in a flash. It makes you ball your hands into tight little fists, frustration quietly bubbling up in your chest. In that moment, you froze, retracting into your shell in the hopes that you could avoid confrontation all together. You’re biting back tears as they prick at the corners of your eyes. Your mind is brewing with what ifs and how badly it could’ve gone when suddenly, his voice pulls you from your thoughts. It’s low and sultry with the fleeting taste of a Spanish accent. You couldn’t really hear the words coming out of his mouth, too busy being lulled by the sound of him. You jerk your attention to him, eyeing his lips for a moment before forcing your gaze to meet his.

“Hm?” Is all you can manage.

“I said, do you live around here?” His voice cuts through, fully grounding you and bringing you back to the present.

“O-Oh.. yea. About five blocks thata way.” You tip your head to the left. “I can just walk.”

Miguel nods his head before starting to lead the way down 48th street. You open your mouth to protest his accompaniment but let the words die in your throat. Walking side by side with your head down, you could only let your thoughts wash over you again.

Miguel lumbered on the side of the concrete closest to the street, grumbling as he kept his eyes forward. Loathing boiled inside his stomach, frothing from his mouth in a string of Spanish curses and death threats.

“If I ever see that fucker again, I swear… Llevaré su piel como un abrigo.” He growled to himself, plotting and mentally preparing for the literal hell that he was going to drag that stranger through. His fists were clenched tightly at his side, burning white until he heard a soft sniffle. Pulling himself away from his thoughts, he turned his head to face you.

Your eyes were still glued to the sidewalk beneath you, tears rolling down ruddy cheeks despite how hard you tried to keep them from spilling. The quiet sounds you made were a result of the runny nose that accompanied your tears. It all just felt so overwhelming, so scary. In a moment of quiet and scarce vulnerability, you tried to be brave. But it was so so hard.

Miguel felt his heart sink in his chest. Thoughts of annihilation and revenge washed away. Softened eyes stared down at you silently as he tried to form the right words to say to you to make the pain and fear melt away. But he couldn’t. Miguel was all too aware of the fact that he lacked the necessary eloquence. It pained him to see you trying to bottle it all up. His teeth sunk into his cheek as he scrambled internally. Finally, he loosened his tightly balled fist, letting it hang limp.

Rough, large knuckles brushed up against the back of your dainty hand. The gentle ghost of a caress, hardly grazing your flesh, almost like he was afraid you’d shatter. Warmth radiated off his hand as once again, it swept across your skin, featherlight. Your head lifted, attempting to gaze up at Miguel, but by this time, he’d turned his head away from you in a shallow attempt to hide his growing blush. Whether it had been due to your tear-blurred eyes or your own volition, you stepped hardly an inch closer to the giant, a faint smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

The rest of the trek back to your shabby apartment was quiet, muted were the sounds of Miguel’s grumbling. They were drowned out by the sounds of your indistinct humming. It was nearly impossible to hear, but it was the only thing Miguel could focus on as the two of you passed through your neighborhood. Entering a large, ten-story building, Miguel was only able to remember where he was in the flickering yellow lights of the hall to your apartment door.

Standing before your apartment, he swallowed thickly. Palms sweaty and the hair on the back of his neck standing on edge as you turned your back on him to unlock the door. You looked so small, so delicate, and so fucking pretty. He felt his heart race in his chest, nearly forgetting all together the events of nearly twenty minutes ago. Right now he just wanted to come inside with you and hold you in his arms. He wanted your body pressed against his chest, lulling him to sleep in the comfort of your bed. He wondered if those sheets smelled as sweet as you did, felt as soft to the touch. He tried to wondered if he’d prefer to rest his head amongst your pillows or your thighs, but he already knew the answer.

‘Please… please let me come in cariño… let me make you feel better… let me take care of you, just for tonight…’ he prayed to himself as he watched you open the door with caution.

Doe eyes stared up at him as his lips parted to speak. Just your gaze forced him mute. Rubbing the tears from your cheeks and smiling up at him with warmth and fondness, he thought he was going to fall to his knees right then and there.

“Thank you.. I-I really appreciate everything, sir.” You said gently, hardly above a whisper. It made Miguel savor your voice. The way it made his brain tingle and swim felt better than any liquor he’s ever had. He wanted to hear more of you, but more than anything he wanted to hear you say his name.

“It was no trouble at all. But please chula, from now on just call me Miguel…” He tried to offer the same warm smile you did but could hardly manage anything more than a sweet little smirk. Despite his expression though, you could see the light in his eyes. It was dull and flickering, but it was there, growing. You nodded your head and gave an airy half chuckle.

“Heh okay… Well then, good night… Miguel.” You spoke in the sweetest tone you could manage. Miguel felt a shiver travel down his spine. His cheeks flushed lightly and he swore he could feel his heart pounding behind his eyes. The way his name fell from your tongue made him weak and practically feral. For a moment he considered sweeping you off your feet and fucking you into the couch just so he could hear you say his name like that again. But instead he stood there, attempting to bite back his animalistic urges with his canines as you began to slip into your apartment. The door gently closed as he watched, standing there and thinking about all the ways he’d make you scream his name.

He tries to shake the thought loose but can’t. He can’t stop thinking about how sweet and obedient you’d be. How much you make his heart flutter and how crazy it drives him. Miguel feels a stirring in his chest, a queasiness that makes him feel sick for a moment as reality strolls back in. The fires of rage being stoked once more in your absence as he remembers what brought him to your apartment in the first place.

He can practically already taste blood on his tongue when he recalls the drunk from the restaurant. How terrified he made you, how something worse could’ve happened had Miguel not’ve been there. Through the haze of his anger he makes a decision, you’ll never be without protection again. He’ll always make sure you’re safe, constantly under the watchful eye of the family. Fuck if he could, he’d guard you himself, day and night.

No matter what or how, he’d keep you safe from the scum that roamed this city. He wouldn’t let the only pure thing in his life be tainted or taken away. Not again. God forbid anything did happen to you, Miguel would have to burn the whole city to the ground.

From that day forth, whenever he couldn’t watch over you himself Miguel would have one of his Spider’s watching over you. Jess or Ben would be the one’s usually sitting in an unmarked vehicle outside of Bellagino’s, stalking in the shadows to make sure you got home safe, reporting back to Miguel as he worked.

For a short while it satisfied him. That is until one night Jess reported she saw you opening the door for some friends, ushering them inside with glee as they carried bottles of wine and board games. Jess tried to explain it was fine, beyond normal even. But Miguel didn’t care. In fact he’d stopped listening to her the moment she said there was a man amongst the group of 4 that were permitted entry. Who the fuck was he? Why did he get to be so close to you? Jealousy washed over him, filling him to the brim.

‘It’s just for her protection…’ that’s what he told himself. Over and over again. Even when he had Peter install the little devices inside your house, while you were off at work. Miguel felt a tinge of guilt, sitting and watching you work with a smile on your face from his table. Meanwhile hidden surveillance cameras were being put in your bedroom, your kitchen, your bathroom, and your living room. It ate at him a little that he worried so much. But how could he not? He couldn’t let anything bad happen to you. This was for your safety, he knew better than to let you out of his sight. The last time he wasn’t watching carefully enough, it cost him… her.

No. He wouldn’t bury another person he cared about. Not when he had the power to do something about it this time. Not when you just started to warm up to him. You finally started to look him in the eye when he sat down at his usual spot. You finally started to smile at him and bless him with that angelic laugh. You started to loosen up and even stop and chat for a few minutes. Once on your break, you just sat and talked to him for the whole thirty minutes, telling him about your day and terrible jokes you thought he might like. All just to see him smile and laugh back at you. He couldn’t just let you slip away. Not when he knew what he’d do if he lost you.

As little as you knew it, you were holding his shattering mind together, keeping him from falling apart. If only you understood how much he needed you.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Time never stops. It marches on, dragging the corpse of yesterday behind it. Time never ceases and neither does the on going beating of hearts and whispers of hope that pray for a better tomorrow. With time came its companion, decay. A mysterious creature that made room in the world for new hope and potential. Miguel didn’t always enjoy time’s passage, nor did he adore it’s companion decay. But with the two, a third party marched, carrying a flag of promise and beauty. With time and decay, tread growth. A glorious and shining ray for tomorrow, growth lit a path for time, giving way for hope.

Everyday that he saw your glowing face, he could feel his heart beating and mending, little by little.

But Miguel was patient, slowly learning to accept time and the company it kept. He knew to bide his time and earn your trust. He knew that with time, you’d be his.

Part 3

Taglist

@whisperwispxx @eatally @moonvoidpng @unicornbabygremlin @chshiresins @iloveyouall234-blog @amber-content

#across the spiderverse #mafia #mafia au #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel x you #yandere!miguel o’hara #stalker!miguel #stalker

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misconceptionmistress · 1 month

Text

Homecoming

Pairing: Hangman x female reader (first person (no use of Y/N)) Synopsis: Hangman arrives home early from a deployment to surprise you Word Count: 1.3k+ Warnings: smut (seriously this is 18+), mentions of masturbation, oral sex (f receiving), protected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all), multiple orgasms, Hangman is his own smut warning

This is a rewrite of an old story (combined with some other parts of other writings I've done as the original was never finished). I took a poll on who people wanted a homecoming romp with, and Jake was the winner. Sorry this has taken so long to get out! I did a brief proofread after finishing, so apologies for any mistakes or if this just sucks 🙃

18+ content below, do not interact if you’re a minor.

I woke up around 6AM thinking I heard something, but as I lay listening there was no noise out of the ordinary. I closed my eyes and tried to get comfortable again, rolling onto my side and stretching my leg out. My leg rubbed against something hard, and my eyes shot open immediately. I should have been alone in my bed, but there was a shirtless, green eyed, naval aviator lying next to me.

"Hi babe." Jake said quietly, and I threw my arms around him.

"What are you doing here? You weren't supposed to be home until tonight."

"I can leave and come back then if you'd like."

"Only if you want to die a slow and painful death." I said grumpily and he laughed, kissing me gently.

"Are you sure you didn't know I was coming home early?" He asked.

"How could I have?"

"Well, you've got a sexy nightie on," he started before lifting the sheet to look at me.

"I've been wearing it for 2 nights now," I laughed "but I will admit you have good timing."

"Why's that?" He asked and I slid the hem of my nightgown up, revealing my lacy black underwear.

"Well hellllooo." He replied, wiggling his eyebrows at me before pulling me back against him for a deeper kiss.

"Fuck, I missed you so much." I said as my leg wrapped over his hip, and I ran my hands up his abs.

"Same. I thought about you every night."

"Did you ever touch yourself while you thought about me?" I asked a little shyly.

"Almost every day." He replied and I groaned slightly.

"Shit." I said under my breath as my heartbeat picked up.

"Did you ever think about me in bed and get hot and have to take care of it cause you were so turned on you couldn't stand it?" He asked, running his hands up and down my sides.

"You always make me hot, Jake." I told him and I could feel his cock twitch against me.

"Good. It better only be me." He said, before crashing his lips into mine and rolling us over so he had me pinned beneath him.

My hips rolled against up his and we both groaned into the kiss.

"Jake, please..." I mumbled against his lips.

"Please what?" He asked, smirking down at me.

"You know what." I replied.

"You need this so bad, don't you baby?"

"I have for a month now..."

"Then let's get cracking." He grinned, shifting to pull my nightgown off me.

His gaze trailed lazily over me before he kissed down my middle, gently caressing his hands over my breasts as he made his way further down my body. His kisses teased the inside of my thighs until his mouth was pressed over the top of my panties, torturing and pleasing me at the same time.

“Jake,” I sighed, and he moved to pull my panties down my legs. He then spread my legs gently, kissing the inside of both my thighs before lowering his head to push his tongue against me.

I groaned as his tongue flicked across my clit; one of my hands finding its way into his hair, the other gripping the sheet on the bed.

“You’re incredible” he said with a moan, in between sliding his tongue through my folds and sucking gently on my clit.

He slipped a finger inside of me, curling it to press against my g spot.

“You’re almost ready to cum aren’t you baby? I can feel how wet you’re getting and you're clenching so tight on my finger.” he said as he added another finger, and I felt the coil in my stomach tighten. Jake was an expert at pretty much everything he took interest in, and he was very interested in my body and making me feel good.

"Please," I begged before breaking into another loud moan as he upped his pace.

“Cum for me, baby." he said, and I broke. One of my hands came off the pillow and to the back of his head, holding him to me as I started to come undone. My legs were shaking as he sucked on my clit and fingered me through my orgasm.

"Fuck! Jakeeeeeee," I moaned, "fuckkkkkkk."

"Good girl." He said with a smile.

As I came back down from my orgasm, he slipped his boxers off and reached for a condom in the bedside table. I took the packet from his hands, ripping it open and caressing a hand down his length before sliding the condom on.

"Ready?" He asked, rubbing the head of himself against my clit.

"Please" I whined, and he smirked before obliging.

As he slid into me fully my eyes rolled back in my head, and I cried out at the feelings rushing through me.

He started moving slowly, both of us groaning at the sensation.

"Fuck, Darlin, you're so tight."

"Oh god; go harder." I begged and he pushed in and out of me quicker.

"You always feel so good after I've been away. So tight and just like you've been waiting for me to stretch you out again." Jake said, sliding a hand down between us to play with my clit.

"Mmmm... Jake I needed this so bad."

"I know baby. Me too."

"Jake..." I gasped as he shifted his position and pushed up against my front wall, hitting me effectively and sending stars into my vision as he thrust hard repeatedly and rolled my clit between two long fingers.

“Do you think you can give me another one?” he asked.

“If you put in the work, yes.” I grinned and he smirked down at me.

“You’re asking for trouble now.” His head lowered to suck at my left nipple as his other hand came up to pay attention to the right. His hips were still snapping against mine rapidly.

"Fuck. Jake... baby..." I gasped, trying to get some air into my lungs as he assaulted me with pleasure. My legs shook from the effort of holding back but the fire was spreading rapidly across my body, and I knew it was a matter of seconds now. I quivered underneath him, clawing across and down his back as he pounded into me, and my second release shot through my body.

“Goddamn. I forgot how good it feels to be inside you when you let go like that. I almost blew at that babygirl.” He said roughly into my ear, and I laughed lightly.

“It’s your fault.”

“You’re welcome for that.” He kissed me gently as he continued to thrust softly into me.

“My turn.” I replied, wrapping my legs around his waist and taking him by surprise as I rolled us over and sat up in his lap.

“Fuck. You know I like it when you ride me baby.”

“I know. Lay back and enjoy it, Jake.”

I started to roll my hips slowly against his and watched his eyes slide closed at the feeling. I ran my hands over his abs and settled them on his chest for some leverage as I moved up and down over him.

“Shit.” He ground out, gripping my hips and thrusting up off the mattress to meet me. Our pace was becoming more frantic as he raced for the end.

“Just like that, Lieutenant.” I groaned, scratching my nails along his chest.

His thrusts grew sloppier each second, and he groaned as he came. He'd turned into a shaking, swearing mess and I loved knowing I was the one who made him that way. He pressed a kiss to my lips before rolling us, so we were laying on our sides as we tried to settle our breathing and heartrates.

“I’m gonna have to make sure I keep a shirt on around the squad.” He laughed, looking down at the scratch marks I left on his chest.

“You probably have some on your back, too.” I chuckled.

“What can I say, my girl’s an animal.” He grinned.

“Welcome home, Aviator.” I smiled as he leaned over to press a kiss to my lips.

#hangman #hangman smut #top gun maverick fic #top gun fanfiction #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #misconceptionmistress writes #smut fic #hangman x reader #first person fanfiction

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roseofdarknessblog · 7 months

Text

Long way ahead (Postwar!Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Word count: 3 160

Disclaimer: english is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes

Summary: After years of fear, pain, and fighting, you and Levi finally have the family both of you always dreamed about.

This story can be read on its own or as a part of my little post-war series: Learn to live again

Long way ahead

The day was beautiful, and the weather almost too perfect. The sky was clear and the sun was shining down on you. On all the Scouts, who once again found themselves outside the Walls in Titan territory. It was supposed to be a so-called training mission.

Everybody was meant to survive and come back home.

It was all going so well. Just until it wasn't. Just until the Female Titan showed up and brought death and destruction with her. In one moment, you were all trying to protect Eren. Petra was right next to you and Eld right in front of you. Oluo and Gunther to your left and behind you. And in the middle, between all of you, was Eren.

You all changed the formation multiple times, just like you were taught. Everybody was as aware of their surroundings as possible. Nobody wanted to die.

Despite that, they were all gone in a blink of an eye. Your squadmates were brutally murdered right before your eyes. Just seconds before the Female Titan threw you against the tree as well.

You didn't even have time to scream out. When your body collided with the tree trunk, pain took your ability to speak and breathe. It felt as if all of your bones broke at the same moment. Shooting out at least one of the hooks of your ODM gear was impossible. You were barely conscious after you hit the tree.

You didn't even notice your body falling. Only when you hit the ground and the air was knocked out of your lungs once again. You didn't even know how, but one of your blades, which was in your hands just seconds ago, went into your left thigh. Hot blood was spilling out of your wound, turning your white pants dark red.

You've never felt pain like that before. Never in your life. Every fiber of your being felt like on fire. Breathing was unbelievably hard. Even the shaking of the ground beneath you, as the Female Titan continued running made you feel immense pain.

What happened to Eren?

Where was he?

You and the others were supposed to protect him. He was humanity's chance to defeat the Titans.

Eren had to survive at any cost.

Eren...

A simple blink was all it took for the scenery around you to change. Suddenly, you weren't in the forest anymore. When you looked up, you saw the sky once again. And Levi with Hange. They were kneeling beside you, both of them looking at you with so much worry in their eyes. Levi... his features were unrecognizable under all the fear. His face was completely pale, his lips pressed into a thin line.

You've never seen him this scared. Never before. And probably never after.

„Don't you dare!“ he hissed through gritted teeth, his hand gently stroking strands of hair away from your face. „I don't want to be alone again,“ Levi whispered, making sure nobody heard him. Except Hange, who was trying to slow down the bleeding from the wound on your thigh.

„Sorry...“ you got out, almost choking on the blood you suddenly needed to spit out from your mouth. Levi swiftly turned you on your side to help, making you cry out in pain so loud even your own ears hurt.

Levi leaned closer to you, rubbing your back while you were coughing and spitting out blood onto the ground in front of you. „I'm taking you back home and when you'll be able to walk again, we're getting married,“ he whispered, not caring if Hange heard what he said.

You were barely able to stay conscious and make out what he was saying. Keeping your eyes open was too tiring, too painful. Everything hurt so much, even the feeling of the wind on your cheeks. Despite that, you found Levi's hand and gave him a small nod.

When Hange moved a little, their body shielding you from the rest of the Scouts, Levi bent down even closer and pressed his lips to your temple. You smiled at him ever so slightly, feeling your eyes closing against your will.

His beautiful face was the last thing you saw. His silky black hair and stormy blue-grey eyes. The way he was looking at you as if he was trying to engrave the picture of your face into his brain.

After your eyes opened again, you were back inside the Walls. Lying on a wagon right next to Eren. Your hand was shaking when you reached out towards him. But before you could touch his shoulder, Eren looked in your direction with eyes full of tears. You didn't understand why he was crying but you were simply too weak to ask.

And just like that, he was gone when you blinked. You woke up somewhere else once again – on the skeletal back of the Founding Titan, that was headed straight at Fort Salta. Many different variations of the Nine Titans were all around you. Your comrades were fighting against them.

Just when you heard someone call your name in the distance, a familiar crying noise stole your attention. You weren't in pain anymore, but standing up and actually walking was somehow still not possible. All you could do was look around and search for where the crying was coming from.

It sounded like... like a baby.

„Y/N!“ someone called your name once again. However, all you were able to care about, was the baby. Where was it? And why? Why did somebody bring a baby to a place like this? „Y/N!“

You looked over your shoulder once again, finally finding the crying little human. A black-haired baby in a pastel yellow blanket with sunflowers was in the arms of a blonde girl. She couldn't be much older than ten or eleven. Around her stood a bunch of Titans you've never seen in your life. Three different versions of the War Hammer, one Jaw Titan, and something that was supposed to represent the Beast Titan.

The baby in her arms was... yours.

When you wanted to say something, talk to the girl... to Ymir... you couldn't get a word out. You couldn't scream when she started walking away, taking your daughter with her and commanding the Titans to finish you off.

You couldn't draw your blades, because you suddenly didn't have them. Nor your ODM gear. All you could do was scream after Ymir even if no sound came out of your mouth. You screamed and screamed until your lungs felt like on fire and until the Titans got to you.

At that moment, you finally woke up. Gasping for air, you sat up and looked around yourself, almost immediately hearing the soft cries of a newborn baby. In the dim light of your bedroom, Levi was sitting on his side of the bed, looking at you with concern written all over his face.

„I tried waking you up but...“ he shook his head, looking down at the little black-haired baby wrapped in a pastel yellow blanket with sunflowers. „Wanna talk about it?“

„No... no, better not,“ you got out, trying to slow down your breathing. Your whole body was trembling from the still to realistic nightmare, as you moved closer to Levi and looked at your daughter. „She's hungry again?“

„Probably. I changed her diaper and tried rocking her back to sleep but it seems like she needs you,“ Levi said, his expression softening immediately as his lips pressed a loving kiss to the baby's forehead.

„Okay, fine. I'll feed her, you can go back to sleep.“

He shook his head, waiting for you to make yourself more comfortable. Only then did he carefully hand you the tiny, not even two-week-old newborn baby. Such an ordinary thing helped you calm down completely and return to reality. The weight and warmth of your baby in your arms and against your chest.

She was here – safe and alive. With you and Levi, her parents.

No Titans.

No Founder Ymir.

Nothing and nobody from your previous life, only you three.

„I'll stay up with the two of you,“ Levi said and kissed your forehead as well.

So while you nursed the baby, Levi kept you company. Even if he only sat there in silence, listening to the soft whispers addressed to your daughter in a hushed and sweet voice. Upon seeing her and Levi, all remains of the nightmare disappeared.

Nothing was real... not anymore.

Titans were gone and you survived.

When Levi's squad died because of Annie, you did not. You became the only survivor of that encounter, even if you made it out alive by a whisker. But you did. It took months until you recovered but... you did.

And now nothing from those times was real anymore. All of those memories were just... well, just memories. Nothing more and nothing less. They happened, they shaped you into the person you were today, but that was it. They no longer had the right to control your life.

„I can't even remember the last time I had such a horrible nightmare,“ you said after a long moment of silence when your daughter was finally fed and seemed satisfied once again. Resting in your arms, she kept looking up at you with her stormy blue-grey eyes. So similar to Levi's. „I don't know why it happened now, what could have triggered it.“

„Don't think that's important,“ Levi said, leaning closer to you. He very gently took the baby's hand, caressing her little fingers.

„She's the only thing that matters now.“

„Exactly,“ he agreed, looking at her with so much love and adoration. She was barely two weeks old but had her father wrapped around her finger.

Levi would do anything for his precious daughter, that was more than certain from the very first moment he saw her. All of his doubts about him not being a good enough father were pushed aside when he held her in his arms for the very first time. You were still in pain and just so exhausted from birth itself, but you remembered that moment very clearly. He was so spooked out, not sure how to hold a couple of minutes old baby. He was scared of unintentionally hurting her somehow. But at the same moment, his eyes were full of pure love and tears. And he didn't even try to hide them. It didn't matter that the hospital staff or you would see him shed a couple of tears. All that mattered in that moment, was the baby in his arms.

His baby.

The baby both of you waited so long for.

She was finally here and she was even more perfect than you dared to dream during your pregnancy.

Looking back, giving birth was the hardest thing you've ever done. From all the things you had to go through since you were born in the Underground, bringing your daughter into the world was the most incredible, but also the most painful and brutal thing that you've experienced.

Despite that... all the difficult days throughout your pregnancy and birth, she was more than worth it.

Seeing Levi become a father was for sure the most beautiful thing you could have experienced. Once Humanity's Strongest was all soft and loving towards the tiny little human he and you created. You knew he had a soft spot for kids, it was very obvious from his actions throughout the years.

But finally seeing him with his own child was something completely different. Hearing him talk to her, seeing him hold her for hours every day... It was so obvious that he never wanted to put her down. He was close to her at all times, always watching out if she needed anything. Even the softest little cry from her made Levi come over and check if everything was okay.

He was totally in love with her.

„It doesn't seem she wants to sleep,“ Levi said, while you leaned against him to rest your aching body a little. You were still slowly recovering and getting used to being a mother. And every day it was getting better and better, easier and more natural.

„Staring at her parents in the middle of the night is probably much more fun. Am I right, darling?“ you asked the baby, smiling at her lovingly.

„Just when I finally learned how to sleep through the night, somebody had to ruin it,“ Levi smirked, furrowing his brows at the baby accusingly. You chuckled quietly and kissed the top of her head, which was full of silky black hair. The Ackerman genes truly were strong. „I'll have to open the tea shop next week again.“

„Yeah, you should. I'm sure people will understand why we closed down for a little while but...“ you shrugged, giving your husband an innocent little smile.

For the past few weeks, there was a piece of paper taped to the door of your tea shop. It was the easiest way how to inform your customers, that you'll be back shortly. This time with a brand new little helper.

Since Levi wanted to help you as much as possible, he decided to close the tea shop shortly before you gave birth. The last few days were probably the hardest ones, so Levi decided to stay close and watch over you. It was nice, you welcomed his presence and the overall calmness of those days before your lives changed forever. You really got the chance to soak up all the last bits of your marriage while it was still just the two of you.

During your entire pregnancy, he tried to be by your side as much as possible, to ensure that you were doing okay. He never said it out loud, but he was terrified that something might happen to you or the baby. He was scared of losing the family he wanted for so many years.

The birth was long, chaotic, painful, and messy. It didn't go the way you hoped it would. Despite that, Levi never left your side. Not even for a single second. He held your hand, helped you breathe through every contraction, and kept reminding you how amazingly you were doing. He kept your mind busy, far away from fear or anxiety, and replaced them with nothing but pure love.

„When are we going to tell the others that we had a baby?“ you asked, watching your daughter trying to grab onto Levi's finger. It was obvious that she wasn't sleepy at all and all of you were due for a long night.

Falco, Gabi, Yelena, and Onyankopon were the only ones, who knew about your daughter. Only because they lived closest to you. Armin and Connie last came for a visit when you were five months pregnant. Because you were still barely showing, it was easy to hide your belly under certain pieces of clothing. Since then, you haven't seen any of your friends and only kept in touch by writing letters.

Keeping your pregnancy private gave you and Levi a strange feeling of peace, you truly wouldn't trade for anything.

„We'll let them know soon enough,“ Levi said, resting his head against yours.

„I know we don't have anywhere to hurry, but I'd like them to finally meet each other. In a way, they're like family to us, too.“

„They are,“ he agreed almost immediately.

After a little talk, you both agreed that you'd invite all of them for a visit in a week or two. For now, staying in your own little happy bubble was all you wanted and needed. You both knew, that your baby won't be this small ever again. So soaking up every single moment was very important.

„I love this. All of this,“ Levi whispered in a calm relaxed tone, kissing your temple while he took the baby from your arms. He very carefully snuggled her against his chest, stroking her back.

„Does being a father feel like you thought it would?“

„It's even better if I'm being honest,“ he smirked, smoothing the baby's hair down on the back of her head. „But sometimes I still don't get how we got here.“

„What do you mean?“

„You were barely seventeen when Furlan brought you home for the first time.“

„When he begged you not to kick me out,“ you teased him, laughing quietly at the old memory of your life in the Underground.

To your surprise, Levi chuckled himself, also thinking about how your very first meeting went. How you knelt in front of him because your injured ankle hurt so badly you weren't able to stand. Blood was dripping from your nose and your knuckles were all busted open from your sad little attempt to beat up the men who were hurting you. When you and Levi first met, you were a complete mess and if it wasn't for him and Furlan, you wouldn't last much longer. But they took you in and made you a part of their gang.

Many months later Isabel joined the three of you. At that moment you felt like your new family was finally complete.

And the rest... the rest is history. A collection of happy, sad, and painful memories.

„We've come such a long way since those days,“ Levi said, both of you watching your baby peacefully resting against Levi's chest. It didn't seem like she was missing something in that moment. The presence of her parents gave her the most important things – safety and love.

„And now we have an even longer one ahead of us,“ you added, leaning closer and finding Levi's lips in a sweet long kiss. It didn't matter how many times in your life you've kissed him. Every single time your lips touched, it felt like the purest magic. Even after so many years, you were head over heels for him. „And we'll walk down that road together.“

„Together,“ Levi agreed, his lips lingering close to yours for a moment before he kissed you again. Slowly and with so much love, it almost took your breath away. He never was a many of many words, because his actions always spoke louder.

„I'm glad we had to wait so long for her. At least she now gets to grow up in a much safer world than we did. She'll never know the pain and fear we had to go through.“

Levi opened his mouth to say something but eventually didn't. Instead, he closed his eyes and rested his head against yours. The baby in his arms made a few sweet noises when you rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head.

After Levi started humming a familiar melody quietly, her eyes slowly started to close. And yours as well.

Everything was okay.

Everything was finally as you always wished it would be.

Just you, Levi, and the purest outcome of your love, safely living in love and harmony.

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #aot x reader #aot x you #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin

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mandos-mind-trick · 9 months

Text

Dream of You

Summary: You know things. Things you shouldn’t. You knew about the clones, about the Republic’s army long before the war started. You knew about their training, you knew about attacks and battles even before they happened, long before the rest of the galaxy knew about them. Your only regret is not saying something sooner.

Pairing: Echo x reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, slight aftercare, angst, war, Echo's "death", slight description of medical stuff, paranoia, depression, very brief implied mention of suicidal thoughts, fluffy, happy ending, Soulmate AU

A/N: Did I intend the last two soulmate fics to have similar links...not really. It just happened this way. Also, this is the NSFW Echo soulmate fic, the one with ace!reader is coming shortly. I'll be making a post when I'm close to finishing that one. I really struggled with this so sorry if it's garbage. Echo was not musing for me this time around.

MASTERLIST

Blaster fire.

It’s all around you, though that was fairly common for your dreams. You’re not sure where you are. You can’t see anything defining, nothing that would point out where you are or what you’re doing.

“This is our only chance. We’ve got to stop him.” The voice echoes in your head. It’s coming from you. It’s your voice.

You rush forward, grabbing a shield from the ground despite the bolts being fired at you. You rush towards the shuttle, firing at the droids in an attempt to secure it.

“Echo look out!”

Before the words register in your mind, before you can react you’re flying, being thrown forward by a wave of heat and energy.

An explosion.

The sound registers in your ears as you hit the ground. It’s dark, wherever you’ve landed. The pain begins to register as the shock wears off. Your whole body feels as if it's on fire. You can feel your pulse in your legs and arms, blood on your tongue. You can’t move. Even if you wanted to, even if you tried to call out, you can’t.

You’re dying.

****

You wake with a scream. Tears are gliding down your cheeks, and have been judging on the dampness of your face. You’re shaking uncontrollably, breaths coming in hyperventilating gasps.

Your soulmate’s going to die.

A hand lands on your shoulder, shaking you gently. “You alright?”

You’re still hyperventilating, your brain refusing to respond. You’re soulmate’s going to die. Your soulmate’s going to die. It’s the only thing you can think of.

“Look at me.” One of your fellow medics, Zena, kneels down on the other side of you. You like Zena. You’d consider her a friend. “I need you to breathe, otherwise you’re going to pass out.”

She’s right. You can feel the tingling in your hands and feet and face as the carbon dioxide in your blood rapidly decreases. Zena takes a deep breath, holding it before letting it out. You try to mimic her, slowing your hyperventilating until your breathing is semi-even, broken only by the occasional sobs as you continue to cry.

“What is it?” Zena asks, sitting on the edge of your bunk. “What’s going on?”

“E-Echo.” You stutter out. “He’s...he’s go-gonna die!”

A sympathetic look crosses her face. She’s one of the few that know about your soulmate, an ARC Trooper stationed with the 501st named Echo. You’ve never met, at least in person. You share a unique connection with him. Every time you sleep, you dream of what your soulmate will experience the next day. It started about eight years ago. You knew things about the GAR, about the war, long before it started. You’ve dreamed of battles that have happened since, things you shouldn’t know. Things that would get you arrested and sent to interrogation.

It was what led you to sign up to be a medic, the hope that you might by chance run into your soulmate. Of course, you hadn’t known back then about the rules, the Kaminoans and the GAR forbidding the clones from forming links with their soulmates. The more you learned about the clones, the more angry it made you at the GAR.

Zena squeezes your arm. “Maybe...maybe Commander Bly could help. He could alert the 501st command or something.”

You scrub a hand over your face, smearing tears all over your skin. She’s right. Maybe...maybe things aren’t hopeless. You’re risking a lot. You’ll have to reveal your connection to Echo. If anyone finds out, he’ll be forced to reject you. By saving him, you might force yourselves apart for good.

It would be better than losing him permanently.

You throw the covers back, sliding your feet into your boots. “I need to find the Commander.”

You’ve only spoken to Commander Bly once, while you patched his wound after a battle. You didn’t interact with command much outside the med bay. You were so far below their ranks. Your job was to patch wounds and keep injured troopers alive long enough to receive care. You were about to step so far out of your zone, but if it might save your soulmate’s life, then it will be worth it.

You’re out the door of the bunks in a flash, before anyone can bring into question your course of action, before you can really question your decision. You head to the bridge, the first place you can think of as to where Commander Bly might be.

You’re stopped at the doors before you can even get inside. “Authorized personnel only.” The trooper says.

“I need to see Commander Bly.” You say, putting as much authority in your voice as you can.

“He’s busy.” The trooper says.

“It’s an emergency.” You say. “Lives are at stake.”

The troopers at the door share a glance before one steps inside. You only get a quick glance through the doors before they’re closing again. You stand there and wait for what feels like too long, before the doors open, the trooper returning with Commander Bly in tow.

He seems far more imposing now than he had when you’d patched his wound. You had been running high on adrenaline, patching trooper after trooper for hours after the battle ended. The adrenaline made you more brave. You could use some of that now. Right now all you have is desperation.

Commander Bly leads you to a private room, your heart pounding in your chest. How were you going to tell him? How were you going to make him believe you? You’d have to spill, you’d have to tell him the truth and hope he believed the same as the other clones about soulmates. You’re risking so much, but if it saves even one life, perhaps it will be worth it.

“You think someone’s in trouble?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

You nod, taking a deep breath. Your hands are still shaking, still rattled by your dream. “It’s the 501st, sir.” You push the tears away, not wanting to cry in front of your Commander. “Something’s wrong, something’s going to happen.”

“And how do you know this?” He asks skeptically, raising an eyebrow at you.

“My...my soulmate is with the 501st.” You say. “We share a dream connection. I-I had a dream last night. He’s going to die.”

Commander Bly stares at you for a moment before he sighs, his shoulders drooping. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you want me to do.”

“Warn them. Contact them. Something!” You say, raising your voice a bit. “There has to be something that can be done.”

He shakes his head. “The 501st is on a campaign right now. No warning I could send is going to change what happens. We have to do our duty first.”

Tears blur your eyes at his words. Of course it was foolish to think you could stop one clone from dying. You shouldn’t have bothered. Now you could be reported to GAR officials.

“I’m sorry.” The Commander at least has the decency to sound sympathetic. He puts a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “There’s a shuttle leaving for Coruscant in less than an hour. I’ll put in the leave request paperwork.”

You feel defeated. That’s it, then. There’s no swooping in and saving him, no way of preventing his death. Maybe this was the way it was always supposed to be. Fate wouldn’t give you a soulmate you weren’t going to meet.

So what does that say about you?

You drag your feet back to the barracks, packing your things silently as the tears slide down your cheeks. You feel numb, like your body is already preparing for the inevitable pain. It was going to happen today. You don’t know exactly when. It’s almost worse.

You find the shuttle, boarding it without a word. You squish yourself in between two crates, pulling your knees to your chest as you wait for the soul-crushing pain of your soulmate’s death to hit you.

***

You’ve been on Coruscant for two days. You’ve fluttered in and out of sleep, tears, and a deep numbness that prevented you from doing much else besides sitting and staring out the window of your hotel. You haven’t dreamed once in the many hours you’ve spent asleep. It’s all been dark, black, a void of nothingness.

Was this what it felt like losing a soulmate?

No one could ever fully describe it. They said it was horribly painful, like a piece of them was dying and decaying and it left a gaping hole in its place that never fully healed.

You certainly feel like one big gaping hole.

There’s been no pain, no soul-shredding feeling. Just numbness and emptiness. Perhaps it’s different for everyone. Perhaps your brain had blocked it out to save you from the pain of having to feel part of your soul dying.

On the third day they arrive.

You had managed to drag yourself into the shower, and you answer the door with dripping hair. Two members of the Coruscant Guard stand at your door. They ask your name and you confirm it. You’ve been summoned to the GAR headquarters.

You already know what this is about.

They let you at least make yourself decent and put shoes on before they escort you to the speeder. You’re not under arrest, which is a good sign, but you can imagine you’re headed into an interrogation. Someone had spilled on your link, on your knowledge of things you shouldn’t have known. Was it Commander Bly? One of your fellow civilians?

You’re not mad.

You’re far too numb to feel anything that strong.

You’re escorted into the building and led through the labyrinth of lifts and halls. You’re left in a room with hardly more than a table and chairs and an overhead light. You lower yourself into one of the chairs, trying to prepare yourself for your impending interrogation. You can only imagine the things you’re going to get asked about.

You’re not sure how long you wait there in the plain, windowless room. It feels like an external representation of how you feel inside. You can’t even bring yourself to feel nervous when an Admiral joins you in the room.

He asks your name and your station, questions you can easily answer. You know you can’t lie. Getting caught in a lie isn’t going to help you any, and besides, why would you lie now? Your soulmate’s dead. They can’t do anything about it.

“Having highly confidential information about the GAR and its battles puts you in a precarious situation.” The Admiral says.

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore.” You say. “After all, my soulmate is dead.”

“Yes, what a pity. The loss of clones is an unfortunate aspect of the war that the Republic has no choice but to accept.” The Admiral says, no sympathy in his tone whatsoever. “You could have been a useful asset. Perhaps if we had known, things could have gone differently.”

Your hands ball into fists, sudden rage boiling under the surface. It’s the first thing you’ve felt in days. You know it’s not true. They wouldn’t have risked anything to save Echo. He’s just another clone to them. Another faceless body to throw in front of a blaster.

You’re shuttled back to your hotel and left at the door like nothing had happened. You’re still burning with rage, your body clinging to the first emotion it’s been able to conjure in days. You want to flip the table in your room, destroy the bed, break a window, something. You don’t have that kind of money, though, to pay for those damages. Nor do you want to put some poor housekeeper through that.

Instead you drop on the bed and let out a scream into the pillow. The rage begins to boil down to tears, your sobs muffled by the dampening pillow. You cry yourself to sleep, drifting back into a state of numbness.

***

It’s cold. You can’t see anything, you can’t hear anything. All around you is cold and dark. You can’t move, you can’t feel. You’re numb. The pain is gone, replaced by nothing. Nothing but numbing blackness in the cold around you.

No, wait. You can hear something. Something off in the distance. It’s getting louder, echoing in your mind.

CT-1409.

***

You can still hear it when you wake.

CT-1409.

You blink the tears from your lashes, sitting up on the bed. It’s night, the city illuminated outside the window. You haven’t been asleep long. You’d been in the GAR headquarters longer than you thought.

CT-1409.

You rise from the bed, moving towards the window, looking down at the city as far as you can, until it disappears into the cloud of haze that separates the upper and lower levels. You suddenly back away from the window, all but punching the button to close the shutters. It cuts off the only light, bathing the room in complete darkness. For half a moment you expect the cold to come seeping back in.

CT-1409.

You need to get off Coruscant. You need to get out from under the eyes of the Republic. You need to hide. You need to disappear before they make you.

CT-1409.

You use your savings to purchase a ship. It’s a piece of junk, but it has hyperspace capabilities. That’s all you need. You need to find somewhere remote. After that, you’ll figure it out from there. You have little money left, but being a medic means you’ll be able to find jobs easily. You can work anywhere. Someone’s always looking to hire medics.

You just need to disappear from the Republic.

*** 2 Years Later ***

You’re still dreaming.

You had dreamed of the frozen darkness most out of everything. Occasionally you’d get more. Strange noises, things spoken in a language you couldn’t understand. Occasionally you’ll see flashes, images. You can never quite make them out.

You think it might be your brain trying to get used to dreaming its own dreams again. Or perhaps it's your brain's way of trying to make up for the loss of your soulmate. The numbness has slowly faded into the background, though it hasn’t really left. You found a remote planet to live on, one far from war. You got a job at the medical center in a small town, the job almost boring compared to the heart racing adrenaline inducing insanity of the war.

You don’t mind. It keeps you off the radar.

You’ve built a decent life here in two years. As decent a life as you could, at least. You still feel empty and lonely. That longing feeling for your other half hasn’t left. The fact you know you’ll never get to have him only makes it worse.

You cry more than you’d like to admit. You understand now why people don’t last long when their soulmate dies. You’d hardly call this living. More just simply existing.

You have considered it. You can never quite bring yourself to. There’s always something in the back of your mind holding you back. Sometimes you wish you were brave enough.

It’s one of those nights when it happens.

***

It’s dark and cold again. It feels different this time. Something’s happening, but you’re confused.

Suddenly the darkness is gone, and you’re staring at what seems to be a control room.

“We-We have to get to the shuttle to escape the Citadel.” The voice echoes in your head. “No! I’ll go first!”

“Echo.” Another voice says. “Echo, it’s Rex. I’m here.”

A face enters your vision. You know that face. You’ve seen it many times. “Rex? You, you came back for me?”

“Yes.” He looks guilty. “Yes I did.”

“What, what happened? Where am I?” Your gaze swings to look around the room.

“It’s okay, Echo.” Your gaze is drawn back to Rex. “You’re safe now. Just sit tight trooper. You’re going home.”

***

You startle awake, tears sliding down your cheeks. You stare at the wall across from your bed in disbelief. It can’t be...but it had felt like the other dreams.

Has he been alive this whole time?

Had he somehow survived the explosion? It would explain the other dreams, the lack of pain at his passing. Had your suffering been simply your own creation because you thought he was dead?

Has he been alive this whole time?

Your dream means he’ll be getting rescued today. Hope blooms inside you that it is true, that it is really a dream of what’s going to happen. Many feelings flood you for the first time in a long time. The numbness is pushed away as emotions bubble within you. You don’t know whether to be happy or worried or sad or relieved. All you can do is cry. Again.

Of course, you’ll have no way of knowing if it really does come true. You have no connections in the GAR anymore, and you can’t risk them finding you. You did sort of desert the army and break your contract. You know a prison cell is waiting for you if you go back.

Fate won’t give you a soulmate you’ll never meet.

You’re not entirely sure you trust fate. It’s put you through the wringer, but with this new development, that could change. Maybe you will find your way together after all.

You call out of work, knowing you won’t be able to focus. You hardly leave your bed, thinking over the dream, over the fact your soulmate is alive. The longer you lay there, the faster the regrets start seeping in. What if you hadn’t left the Republic? You could have found a way to finally get to him, to finally meet him for the first time.

There was no guarantee.

Fate won’t give you a soulmate you’ll never meet. Perhaps it was always meant to happen this way. Perhaps it was better if it happened this way.

***

Your dreams return to normal as the months pass. Dreams of battles continue to be the most common. You see new faces now, faces you don’t recognize in your dreams through Echo’s eyes. Things have changed for him too.

You’ve always wondered what he saw in his dreams. Battles too, you imagined, though different ones than the ones he partook in. You wonder if he ever saw the clones you couldn’t save, his brothers suffering, you attempting to save their lives.

Your dreams must seem very boring now.

You wonder if he had still dreamed of you during the period of...whatever had happened to him. You wonder if he feels relief seeing how different your life is now. You wonder what he thinks of you.

You wonder if he even wants to meet you.

You shake those thoughts away, burying yourself in your work at the medical center. You don’t want to think about it. Rejection was still a strong possibility. Between the war and the GAR and the fact that not everyone wanted a soulmate, he could still reject you.

You force the thoughts away, focusing on your dreams instead. Watching what he’s doing, making sure he’s not going to die again.

Then the war ends.

Despite the war being over, chaos still ensues in the galaxy. You don’t trust the Empire, and that distrust only continues as your dreams continue. You watch the things that happen to Echo, and his eventual desertion. You’re helpless to do much but watch the events that transpire.

You wait patiently, biding your time as Echo and his squad try to find their place in the galaxy. It feels almost wrong to have such a front row seat to the goings on in his life despite never having met him in person before. Then again, he has a front row seat to your life as well, though your life is much more boring than his, even now.

As the weeks pass and the disruption continues in the galaxy, your new home planet remains entirely untouched. There wasn't much special about it. No major exports, no convenient hyperspace lanes nearby, no major cities. It's a perfect place to hide.

Echo has also found a place to hide. You begin to see a place popping up in your dreams regularly. An idea begins to form in your head as you learn about the place in your dreams.

Ord Mantell.

Cid's Parlor.

You could easily find that place. Ord Mantell's not far from your current home. You could reach it in a matter of hours. All you have to do is take time off work and jump in your scrap pile of a ship.

The idea makes you nervous. What if he doesn't want to meet you? What if he rejects you? Years. Years you've been waiting for this. You spent years thinking he was dead. Now he's within reach and...you're scared.

You dream of yourself that night.

You've already made up your mind, or fate has made it for you.

You're halfway to Ord Mantell before the sun rises on your home planet.

***

Cid's Parlor is a rather seedy place. You've been in worse, but you suppose for a front it's perfect. You take the stairs slowly, trying to remember to breathe. This is the moment. Two years ago you would have been running in and throwing your arms around him.

It's been a long two years.

You enter the bar, the inside not any better than the outside. There's a weequay and an ithorian at a dejarik table, and then the five at the bar. You recognize them from your dreams. Well, you recognize four of them.

You've never actually seen Echo. You were always seeing from his perspective. You always assumed he'd look like the other clones, but then you'd seen the new group he was with and realized maybe they don't all look alike.

You can pick him out in the group by process of elimination. You recognize the other three, having seen them at various points, and then of course there's the girl. You take a long look at Echo, tears gathering in your eyes.

You're so close. So close.

"Echo?" You ask, the bar seeming to go quiet as soon as you say it.

Everyone turns to look at you, brows furrowed in confusion. Echo steps back from the bar, staring at you. He's paler than the others, his face sunken and gaunt. There's a headset wrapped around his head, and you notice the cybernetic right arm.

The furrow of his brows lift into shock, his eyes widening as he stares at you. He whispers your name, almost too quiet for you to hear.

You're moving before you realize it, your arms wrapping around him. He's solid and warm and his plastoid chest plate digs into your skin, but you don't care. He's real.

His arms wrap around your shoulders, holding you against him.

"I-I didn't think..." You sniffle, a tear sliding down your cheek. "Two years! I thought you were dead."

He lets out a chuckle, his hand sliding down your back. "Yeah. Everyone thought I was."

You pull away as a throat clears beside you. Your cheeks warm a bit. You'd completely forgotten the others.

"Echo...care to explain?" The one with the bandana, Hunter you think, asks.

Echo slips his arm back around you, holding you against his side. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet my soulmate."

The guarded look on Hunter's face lessens just a bit. You hadn't expected to be welcomed with open arms and trusted immediately. Not after the things you've seen.

You get introduced to everyone, and you find yourself sitting at the bar, telling Echo all about yourself. Where you came from, how you joined the GAR, why you left, where you wound up. He knew a lot already. He'd dreamed of you occasionally during the two years you'd thought he was dead. He hadn't really understood what was happening during that time though. To be fair, you hadn't either.

You talk a bit about them, filling in some gaps in your understanding of what was happening to them.

"We need somewhere to lay low for a while." Hunter says.

"Well, I just happen to know the perfect place." You say. "It kept me hidden from the Republic and there hasn't been even a glance from the Empire so far."

"It's out of the way of most hyperspace lanes." Tech says, typing away at his datapad. "No major cities or ports. Mostly self-sufficient. Nothing anyone would be interested in."

You shrug. "It's not much, but it is safe."

***

"We're going in that?" Echo asks as you stand next to your ship docked at the port.

"Hey, don't hate on Bertha." You pat the side of the ship, something clanging inside. "She helped me escape the Republic."

You lower the ramp, having to fiddle with it as it sticks for a moment. Echo gives you an incredulous look but you wave him in. She may be a bit temperamental, but your ship has a special place in your heart.

"Tech will have a heyday with this one if you let him get his hands on it." Echo says, taking the copilot's seat.

"Well, he's more than welcome if he gets bored." You say, firing up the engine. "Can't make her any worse." You grin at him, giving the control panel a solid smack to stop it from rattling.

Echo doesn't relax until you're in hyperspace. You don't take it personally. You had been a little nervous flying the first time but though she was prone to rattling, Bertha flew perfectly fine.

You turn to look at Echo as the blue of hyperspace surrounds you. You reach out, pressing your hand to his cheek. His skin isn't as warm as you'd expect, your brow furrowing a little.

His hand lifts, resting against yours. Your thumb strokes his cheek, reminding yourself that he's real. He's right here with you finally.

"Echo...what happened to you?" You ask.

And he tells you. You spend the entire trip listening to his story. He starts at the beginning, explaining things you knew and many you didn't. You listen to it all. The good, the bad, the heartbreaking.

You cry for him a few times. Cry for the pain and the misery and the torture he's faced. He wipes your tears, dampening his glove but he doesn't seem to care.

You talk almost the entire flight, catching up on years of missed time. Echo only slightly clings to the seat as Bertha drops from hyperspace and you begin the hour flight to your home planet. It's slow going, Bertha not exactly made for speed.

The others are already there when you land, by no surprise. Though your home was small, you could offer them a roof over their head until they found something more permanent.

If they decided to stay here.

You try not to think about that too much.

"Glad you made it." Hunter says, eyeing Bertha as you and Echo step off the ramp.

"Not you too." You make a face. "She flies just fine, she's just got creaky joints."

You can already see the wheels turning in Tech's head as he eyes Bertha. You lead them inside, showing them your small house. You only have one spare room and a couch but they assure you they can just sleep on the ship. You feel bad, but then again you hadn't really been expecting this when you ran from the Republic.

You hadn't expected a lot to happen.

You make dinner, probably the first home cooked meal they've had in a long time, or possibly ever. Echo hovers in the kitchen but you don't mind. You like having him close after all this time. You're still a little afraid you'll turn around and find he's gone. Like he's been a figment of your imagination this whole time.

They leave you and Echo the house for the night, and you can tell by the look on Hunter's face it's deliberate. You hadn't really considered that but you knew anything could happen after you meet your soulmate.

You find Echo in your room after you finish cleaning up. He's standing next to the bed, tracing the carving on the wall.

CT-1409

You'd carved it after hearing it again in your dream. You'd been half dazed, repeating the number over and over in your head.

He turns to look at you, fingers resting in the center of the 9. Your cheeks warm a bit, not having thought about that. You just have his designation number carved in your wall. You might as well have his name there.

"I did that after I heard it in a dream." You say, approaching the bed. "I couldn't get it out of my head." You crawl onto the bed, kneeling next to him. "I put it there because it felt like in a way you were still with me, though I know now you never left."

He drops his hand, turning to face you. He looks a little guilty. "I'm sorry for putting you through that."

"Don't apologize for something you couldn't control." You say, putting your hand on his scomp arm. "You're here now. That's what matters."

He glances down at your hand before looking back up at your face, those big brown eyes shining in the orange light of sunset shining in through your window.

"I made a promise once." He says, staring at you. "To someone very close to me. We promised each other that after the war ended, we'd find our soulmates and settle down somewhere. Get married and have families. Grow old together far away from everything else."

You smile softly at him, gently guiding him to sit on your bed with you. "Well, I'd be more than happy to help you keep your part of the promise."

You sit with him, talking late into the night. There's no rush now. You have all the time in the world.

***1 Year Later***

"Just a pinch of this." You say, blindly holding out the jar of spice.

It's taken from your hand and set on the counter, your ears picking up the small clink of metal on tile. Hands grip your waist from behind as you stand on your toes to reach the second shelf of the cupboard.

"You know I can reach those easily." Echo murmurs in your ear.

You grin at him over your shoulder. "I know. I also know you love looking at my ass."

He practically purrs, hands sliding lower. "I do love your ass."

You press back into his hands, one flesh, the other cybernetic. He'd ditched the scomp a few months ago now that he's retired to a boring civilian life.

"We don't have a lot of time before they get here." You say, straightening up to try and slip out from where he has you pinned to the counter.

He presses against you harder, hands moving to trap you between him and the counter. "They can wait for dinner." He breathes into your ear, pressing his half-hard cock against your ass. "I want dessert first."

You bite your lip, letting out a strangled moan as he grinds against you. "At least turn the burner off." You breathe.

Echo presses a kiss to your neck before he pulls away, reaching back to shut off the stove. You turn in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck as he turns back to you.

He pins you against the counter once more, molding his lips against yours as his hands trail back down your sides. You deepen the kiss, pulling him even closer. You can feel him, fully hard against your stomach now.

His hands grip your waist, easily lifting you onto the counter. One of your hands slides up to tangle in the curls that have regrown over the last few months. He groans quietly against your lips, hands parting your thighs for him.

He steps between your legs, your skirt riding up around your waist, revealing your panties underneath. His fingers rub the damp fabric, teasing you before he tugs them aside, meeting your flesh.

You moan into his mouth, pressing your hips into his hand as he circles your clit. You're already worked up just from kissing him, the familiar heat igniting under your skin from his touch.

"Kriff." You breathe against his lips, grinding against his hand. "Make me feel so good."

He hums contently against your lips. "Good. You deserve to feel good."

You slip a hand down his front, palming him through his pants. "I'd feel better with you inside me, though.".

He grins, pressing one more steamy kiss against your lips. "Yes, ma'am."

You shriek as he tugs you right to the edge of the counter, holding you steady with one hand while the other pulls his cock from his pants.

You wrap your arms back around his neck as he presses close between your legs, teasing your slit with the head of his cock. You moan quietly, playing with the ends of his hair as he slowly presses into you.

He groans, pressing his face into your neck as he slides into your warm passage, your body wet and ready for him.

It never gets old, the feeling being so connected to him invokes. Your very soul seems to hum with pleasure from being so close, so connected. You wrap your legs around him, holding him as close as you can as he settles inside you.

He presses a soft kiss to your lips as you sit in the moment for just a second, savoring the feeling before he begins moving. His thrusts are slow yet deliberate. They reach deep into you, the tip of his cock brushing that spot inside you over and over.

You won't last long, you know it as your legs begin to tremble around him. You moan against his lips, hands fisting his shirt as he picks up the pace just a little.

You whine as you cum around him, milking his own orgasm from his body. He moans into your neck, holding you tightly as he spills into you.

You stay still, just breathing and feeling each other for a few moments. Your hands gently massage his neck and his shoulders, easing the ache you know he feels from his cybernetics sometimes.

He presses gentle kisses to your neck, not enough to leave marks but still enough to pull quiet sounds from your lips.

He kisses a trail up your jaw to your lips, both of you pausing at the knock on the door.

"Hunter's gonna know." You murmur against his lips.

"He probably already does." Echo says, kissing you once more. "Probably heard us halfway down the street."

Your cheeks warm as he pulls away from you, fixing his clothes before helping you look presentable as well. You turn on the stove once more before pulling out the disinfectant spray.

Taglist:

@stressed-cherry @ladytano @freesia-writes @dangraccoon @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @stunkbiggu @endofthexline @padawancat97 @arctrooper69 @wolffegirlsunite @rosechi @eris-k @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @maddiedrmr @gwalchmai2970 @clonemedickix @anxiouspineapple99 @idontgetanysleep @originalcollectionartistry @thrawnspetgoose @thorsterstrudle @littlemissmanga @sinfulsalutations @dystopicjumpsuit @multi-fan-dom-madness @starrylothcat @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @blueink-bluesoul @wings-and-beskar @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator

#star wars #star wars fic #the bad batch #the bad batch fic #clone wars #clone wars fic #tbb echo x reader #bad batch echo x reader #clone trooper echo x reader #x reader #clone thirsting

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my-cowboy-hat · 10 months

Text

Risk and Endearment

Summary: Bounty hunting with a Mandalorian is a dangerous job, but you know the risks. Don't you?

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!Reader

Word count: 2.1K

Warnings: blood, injury, near-death experience, angst, PINING, hurt/comfort, fluff, cuddly Grogu my beloved

A/N: I'm not sure where this came from or why I started it, but it got me writing again for the first time in a while so I'm not complaining. I've never posted any of my own work to this blog but I think I'd like to start.

I hope you enjoy reading this, please feel free to comment your thoughts!

The explosion comes from nowhere.

One moment, you and Din are fighting a particularly elusive bounty, quickly gaining the upper hand, and the next, debris is flying everywhere.

You don't remember the initial impact to your abdomen, or maybe your body just didn't register it through your shock. Time slows and the sounds around you start to echo in your ears. The first thing you notice is that your hands are wet and there is a coppery taste on your tongue. The next is a sharp, pinching pain slowly growing from your stomach.

Have you been impaled by something? You wonder why your thoughts are so calm when everything else seems everything but. A quick glance down tells you, yes, you have certainly been impaled. A long, thin metal rod protrudes from your stomach and the dusty gray shirt you wore is almost fully darkened with your blood.

When your ears slowly stop ringing, you can hear Din cursing frustration as the explosion manages to be enough of a distraction for the bounty to escape.

"Din?" You call out with a wince. He turns to you and you see his body jolt at the state you are in, "Din, I- I think we need to get back to the ship."

You think you might be in shock.

You manage to take a few steps backward with the intention of turning toward the direction you knew the ship to be in, but suddenly the world started to spin and you can't place where you are anymore. You hear Din yell your name as you begin to fall, and a pair of armored-covered arms wrap around you before you could land.

All your senses start working overtime when your brain suddenly catches up with the series of events. You can hear fire crackling around you and you whip your head around wildly in order to get a grasp on the situation. Worst of all, you can feel the excruciating, agonizing pain from your abdomen. You cry out when you feel Din place his hand on the area next to the rod to apply pressure.

"Dank ferrik!" Din grunts, "No, no, no."

"Ship," You breathe, "We have to get back to the ship."

"The ship," he repeats, and then you're being lifted in the air. You groan with the movement but manage to hook your arm around the back of Din's neck.

"Just hang in there. We're not far." He tries to reassure you.

The trek to the ship is difficult for you to remember. The pain searing through your body only seems to increase with every step Din takes. Your eyes flicker from the story night sky to the lip of the mandalorian helmet, trying to focus on one or the other. The rest passes in a blur.

Din says your name again and suddenly you're on the ground again. Cool metal blankets your shoulders as you're laid on your back. You shake your head as another wave of pain hits you and you slap your hand against Din's armored shoulder before gripping the cloth covering his arm.

"You're okay," Din tells you, but you don't think you believe him.

"I'm so-sorry," You whimper, a tear falling from the corner of your eye. You feel it slip down the side of your face and it tickles your ear. "Din…"

"Don't talk," his voice is gruff as he cuts your shirt free from your bloodied skin.

You start to panic and your breathing becomes ragged. So you start speaking. You say the only things that come to your mind at that moment.

"D-din I-" You let out a harsh gasp that turns into a sob, "I'm gonna die. I'm gonna- I don't wan- wanna die."

"You're not gonna die," his voice is firm, but you think you hear his own tears in his voice. "I won't let you die. Hear me?"

Faintly, you register that his gloves are off.

"Din, I- I- I- I can't- it hurts,"

"I- I know, Cyare, I know."

You don't know what he's doing. You think your stomach might be going numb. You can't really tell in all honesty, but it's a welcomed feeling, you think as your sight begins to blur.

"Take- take care of th-the baby. He-he needs you." What's happened to your voice? It sounds muffled in your ears. You feel the tears streaming down your face freely now. The pain is unlike anything you have felt before. You knew that even if the injury doesn't kill you, surely this pain will.

"He needs you too," Din's voice sounds far away now too. Why? You don't want him to go.

"An-and care… f'yours- self t-too. I love you. Th-theres a-a bag und-er my cot. Credits, and- and- extra ration pack- ah! I love you, Din. I love you. I love you."

The edges of your vision begins to darken and it takes everything in order to keep your eyes open if only to keep looking at your Mandalorian's blurry form. But this is not your Mandalorian, is it? Your Mandalorian wears a silver helmet. This one has shades of brown.

You hear him say your name when your eyelids become too heavy. He sounds so upset and urgent but you can only hum in response, the numbing feeling slowly taking over your whole body. Maybe now... Now, it might just be okay if you rest your eyes a bit.

When you wake, it's to a small hand tapping on your cheek.

You let out a small grunt when you attempt to peel open your eyes.

You hear a small, concerned coo from where something sits heavy on your chest and there's another tap on your cheek. When you finally manage to open your eyes, your vision is in hues of blue, and small black dots dance as they take in the wooden ceiling above.

You hear another coo and you dip your chin to see your small, green child looking at you with his big dark eyes. When he sees your eyes, his ears perk up exponentially and he collapses forward with a soft squeal. His small hands hold your neck and he nuzzles his head against your chin.

You lift a heavy hand to his back gently and whisper, "Hello darling."

You can't remember much, but flashes of the explosion play like a distant nightmare in your head, along with a fear of death you didn't know you had. You remember the pain in your abdomen and the sound of a distraught mandalorian.

You were alive. You survived when you were certain you wouldn't see another day. When you were so sure you would never see Grogu or Din again.

Din.

"Darling?" You whisper, tears stinging your eyes, "Where's your father?"

You're only given another small coo in response, the baby refusing to remove himself from his hug.

With the hand not holding Grogu, you trace down the edge of your ribs and softly over your stomach. Your body jerks in the anticipation of pain rather than the pain itself and you let out a soft whimper. You take in your surroundings as a distraction and find yourself in a small room of a wooden hut. A light breeze slips through an open window on one side where a dresser stands under the seal. There's a chair to your left with a pillow and a thin blanket thrown over it.

The room seems barren otherwise, minus the bed you were occupying.

You wonder what planet you were on. How long have you been asleep?

Your head pounds in the way it does when you wake up after sleeping for too long, or when you take a nap that just wasn’t long enough. It did not help your confusion.

"Dank Ferrik!" You hear a curse coming from another room and Grogu quickly sits up again on your chest, ears drooping at the sound.

The door to your room is opened and your Mandalorian steps through, "Grogu, what did I tell you? We need to let her sleep. She'll wake up when she-"

He stops when your eyes flicker up to meet the T of his helmet.

"G'morning," You greeted softly.

Din breathes your name in a way you've never heard before. Like a prayer. "You're awake."

"Where are we?" You question. He steps forward hesitantly and you watch his gaze travel over your form, landing on your stomach.

Grogu gently slips off your chest to lay at your side.

"We- we're on a planet called Sorgon. I- it was the closest one I could think of with people I trust."

"How long…?"

"Almost a week. The medic here gave you some medicine to keep you asleep for a bit longer so your body could heal easier."

You nod and try to blink away the tears threatening to fall. You never thought you'd see him again. Hear his voice.

When you sniff, that seems to snap Din to attention. He makes a move to grab the kid but you shake your head vehemently, "No, no please let him stay. I thought I'd never- I wouldn't-"

Din pauses, "I know, cyare."

Cyare. You have a faint memory of that word being said but you don't know what it means.

"You…" He clears his throat, "You almost didn't make it."

You reach out to him with your hand and he takes it instantly. His shoulders were stiff and the edge of his helmet kept dipping forward in an almost jerky sort of nod. He takes a knee next to your bed.

"You saved me."

"Your heart stopped."

"It's okay," You tug his gloved hand over your chest, above your sternum, where he could feel your heart beating soundly. "You made it start again. Thank you, Din."

He doesn’t respond, at least, not with words. He only squeezes your hand a bit tighter and lets out a shaky breath that crackles against the modulator of his helmet.

By your side, Grogu snuggles into the crook of your shoulder, eyes drooping.

"He hasn't slept well," Din informs you, "I… He wanted to heal you himself, but I-" he cuts himself off and looks away.

He had stopped Grogu from healing you. Good.

"It would've killed him," You say softly, "I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself, or you, for that matter."

Din only nods and his gaze falls to your hands, still laying on your chest. Your fingers graze down the side of his glove until you reach the exposed skin of his wrist, absent-mindedly swiping a thumb along the bumps of his veins and the small scar that you discover on the side, just below the joint of his thumb.

You realize, even after all this time with the Mandalorian, you've never touched his skin. You've seen him without his gloves, of course, and even occasionally a peak of his lower neck when he was bare of any armor. Now, however, you feel him for the first time, Din. His wrist is smooth under your touch, maybe a bit smoother than you'd imagine. Perhaps wearing so much gear does wonders for skin care. You smile softly at the thought.

When you see how rigid Din’s posture has gotten, you give him an apologetic smile and begin to pull away when he suddenly grips your hand firmer in his. Your breath catches in your throat when he brings it up to his helmet where his lips lay just beyond.

And suddenly, Din is speaking again. Just one word this time, barely above a whisper, "Mesh'la."

You don't know what it means, but he says it with such sincerity and softness that your face warms under his covered gaze.

"You should rest," He continues, lowing your hand but not letting it go.

"I've rested long enough for the next month, Din."

"Are you hungry?"

You nod and he makes a move to stand but you tug his hand, "Wait…"

He pauses at an awkward half-kneel next to your bed and tilts his head in question.

"Just…stay? Just for a little while longer?"

"You should eat, Cyare."

Cyare. He's called you that before. You hear the echo of his voice frantic, and breaking while you laid dying on the hull of his ship. You think it may be a term of endearment, just from the way it falls so kindly from his lips. It makes you hope he loves you in the same way you love him.

You'll learn what it means one day. You'll learn the words he calls you with such reverence. You'll learn the whole language for him, you decided. Maybe you'll learn the words that could express what he means to you in ways the common tongue could not.

"I will," You promise. He doesn't know it's a promise for something else but that's okay. "Just sit with me a little longer. Please?"

Din stares at you for a moment. You wish you knew what he was thinking. Finally, he nods, "Always."

Thank you for reading!

#din dijarin x reader #din djarin x you #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction

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coryosprettiestgirl · 5 months

Text

i’ll look after you

mentor!coriolanus snow x victor!fem!reader

content warning: talks of murder, hurt, comfort, mentions of blood

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

coryo, coryo, coryo.

his name replayed in your mind like a prayer. you just wanted to see him. it was all you could think of right now. he was all you could think of right now.

your hands shook as you stare down at them and tears uncontrollably rolled down your cheeks. you were in shock. you had been dragged from the arena only moments ago and now you were stuck in a cold room with nothing but a dim chandelier and some capitol flags to decorate it.

upon hearing the door open, you jumped. in some ways it felt like you were still in the arena. this was one of them. you were constantly on edge, every little sound triggering your anxiety and a bone chilling shiver.

your eyes met the cerulean ones you had started to find comfort in and before you knew it, you were breaking down again. your legs buckled and you dropped onto your knees as sobs wracked your body.

“hey hey hey,” he panicked as he jogged over to kneel beside you. “just breathe, angel. you’re okay. you’re safe now.”

he took your face in his gentle hands, cupping your cheeks and tilting your head up so you could look at him. seeing your teary eyes lack their usual glimmer he began to love was almost making his own start to water. “i—i can’t,” you stammered.

his thumb swept back and forth across your cheekbone as he leaned up to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “yes you can, sweetheart. take a deep breathe. can you do that for me, honey?” he placed his hands on your cheeks again, redirecting your gaze so it was on him once more. “breathe with me.”

your eyes watched his closely through the thick tears, inhaling with him and slowly exhaling in sync. you did this three more times to allow your breathing to slow.

he gave you a soft smile. “see? you did so well for me, angel.” his hands lowered to hold your smaller ones in his. “c’mon. lets get you on your feet.”

he stood up himself and dragged you up just seconds after. you were immediately wrapping your arms around his neck and hiding your face in the crook of his neck against his red blazer.

“its okay, angel. i’ve got you,” he whispered softly as he wrapped his arms around your waist while his hand rubbed circles over your back. “you’re safe with me. ‘m not gonna let them touch you ever again.”

“i killed them, coryo,” you mumbled sadly. “i’m a murderer.”

you could feel him shake his head. “no. no, you’re not a murderer,” he affirmed, holding you a little tighter now. “you were protecting yourself. you did what you were told, sweetheart. and i’m so proud of you.”

his heart broke at the sobs that escaped your lips. “the water. i thought—i thought maybe coral or—or someone else in that group would drink it,” you cried. “i didn’t mean for it to be dill. i didn’t want it to be her.”

he pulled away from you to add just a few inches between your bodies so he could look at you properly. “i know, honey, i know,” he frowned. “but that wasn’t your fault. you couldn’t control who drank that water. and besides, you helped her. you saved her from the snakes. she died a much less painful death.”

“coryo,” you whimpered. the pain in your chest wasn’t from physical pain, just the guilt that hung heavy. “i’m so sorry.”

he immediately began to shake his head. “you don’t need to apologize for anything. you did nothing wrong,” he assured softly. “i trust that highbottom told you what i did.” you nodded to confirm his assumption. “we all do things we aren’t proud of. but we did it to protect ourselves, right? you can’t blame this on yourself.”

deep down, you knew he was right. it was do or die in that arena. kill or be killed. you can’t dwell on something you can’t change. “did you get your prize money?” you asked sheepishly.

he smiled sadly at you and kissed your forehead. “no,” he muttered under his breath. “and thats okay. as long as you’re safe.”

you sighed and let your eyes trail down to the ground by your feet. “thank you for mentoring me, coryo. for protecting me in there.”

his pointer finger and thumb gently grasped the tip of your chin and lifted it before you felt his soft plush lips on yours and his hands on your waist.

your body froze for a moment, melting and becoming completely pliant in his embrace. you smiled into the kiss and brought your hands up to gently tug at his blonde curls by his neck.

and when you two did finally pull away due to the lack of air, you shared a dopey smile. “i’m glad it was you, sweetheart. i couldn’t imagine it being anyone else,” he said before pulling your body closer into his and pressing his lips to yours again.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus smut #coryo snow #coryo x reader #coryolanus snow #corio snow #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #the hunger games #tbosas #young coriolanus snow #tom blyth

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ghostboneswrites2 · 3 months

Text

Bit || One Shot

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring all my work here slowly!

A/N// This was the first one shot I ever posted here! This was the story that started everything lol

Summary: You were bitten before he found you.

18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: sad, death, profanity

The sounds of the forest lulled you in and out of sleep. Sun rays rained down through the leaves. A lovely sight when you could manage to open your eyes. Your back against a tree, sweat beading over your forehead, you winced in pain. Your whole body ached. Down to your very bones, pain was present. The fever was raging, boiling you from within. You scolded yourself internally. How could you let it come to this?

You recalled the chain of events that led you here. You knew you were taking a risk when you tried to loot that old store, but you had no idea just how bad it could get. The coast was clear when you went in, but somehow there were tens of them when you came back out. You ran as fast as you could but there were just so many. Eventually you slowed down, got tired, but they didn't. They never did. They were mindless killing machines. Exhaustion meant nothing to them.

They caught up with you. You fought. You fought hard, but they won. They always did. This time, you were just the unlucky loser. You got bit, but you took it down. The adrenaline and fear from the bite kicked you back into gear. You ran again, and didn't stop until the fever debilitated you. Damn, was it fast. A single bite, and your life was over. What a sick joke.

You thought you heard footsteps in the distance but you made no effort to investigate. You were already gone. It was probably a straggler, coming to finish you off, or a person strolling by that might show you some mercy and put a bullet in your skull. No, not a bullet. They wouldn't draw that much attention to themselves. Maybe a quick knife through the base of your skull, that would work nicely.

A crunch snapped your eyes open, and a pair of long, grungy gray jeans stood before you. You followed the pants up to a shirt, then up to a face. It was hard to make out with the bright sun behind it.

"Ya bit?" A gruff voice asked. It was weird how it sounded like you were under water, or like they were a mile away. You held your arm up, displaying the wound. You dared not look, but the smell told you all you needed to know. It was bad. "'M sorry." They grunted sympathetically, turning and walking away.

"Wait." You croaked. They stopped. "Don't let me die alone." You begged.

The person stood for a moment, back turned to you, seemingly considering your request. After a few moments they turned back and sat down against a tree right across from you. Down at your level you could make out the stranger as a handsome archer with his crossbow sat right beside him. His knees were up with his hands rested on top of them as he eyed you curiously, a hint of sadness in those narrowed eyes.

"What's your name?" You asked.

"Daryl." He said.

"(Y/N)." You told him, coughing a little.

"How'd ya get bit?"

"Looting a store. There was too many."

"'M sorry." He repeated.

"Yeah, me too." You chuckled, humorlessly. You groaned at a random ache. "You know, my dad always told me pain lets you know you're still alive. I don't feel so alive right now."

"My brother always said the same thing." He confessed. "How long ago ya get bit?"

"Don't know. Fever's getting bad though. I'll be out of your hair soon."

"Ain't botherin' me. Got nothin' better to do." He shrugged.

"Really? Nothing better than watching me die?"

"Nah. Shouldn't have to do it alone." He told you. You offered a weak smile.

"Nice guy. Cute too. Wish we met under different circumstances. got a cigarette?"

He tossed you one, and a lighter. You lit it and resisted a cough, enjoying the burn in your lungs as they filled with smoky chemicals.

"Sound like my brother. Askin' for a smoke in your last moments." He said.

"Brother sounds like my kind of people." You croaked.

"Nah, he was real ass." He said, sadly.

"Was?"

"He was bit, too."

"Sorry to hear it. All my family's gone."

"Sorry to hear it."

"Nah," you smiled sadly. "They died in a crash. Before all this. Glad they didn't have to live this way. Or, die this way, in my case. Just hate that their memory and mine dies with me."

"I won't forget ya." He assured.

"Guess that's worth something." You rasped. "Thanks for staying."

"Surprised you didn't ask me to put you out. Looks like it hurts."

"Yeah." You nodded. "Hurts bad. To be honest you're the first friendly face I've seen in weeks. Might as well enjoy it 'til I can't."

His throat tightened a little. He was sad for you. To have felt so lonely you'd suffer to the end just to feel the presence of another person.

"'M sorry." He said again.

"Don't be." You told him. "Got nothing to be sorry for. You're here with me now, that's more than I could've asked for. You got a group or somethin'?"

"Mhm. Got a prison we took. It's safe. Fences, walls, gardens."

"Damn. Now that's somethin' I would've liked to see."

"I would've took you there." He said.

"Too bad." You coughed. "Too bad, indeed"

You were getting paler by the minute. Your eyes could barely open. He took in your features, noting to remember your pretty face. He wouldn't let you go forgotten, because that was what he told you. Your breathing was so shallow he couldn't see your chest rise anymore.

"Ya still there?" He asked.

"Mm." You grunted. "Still here."

"You wanna be buried?"

"You walk around with a shovel?"

"Nah. Prison's not far. I can bury you there, next to our people."

"Oh." You breathed. "That's real nice."

"We bury our people." He said, recalling Glenn's words that day outside Atlanta after the camp got attacked by walkers. Daryl was gonna burn all the bodied, but Glenn insisted their own people be buried properly. He'd be sure to extend that same sentiment to you.

"That's good. Humanity prevails, and all that shit."

"Somethin' like that."

It grew silent again. He watched you closely.

"(Y/N)?" He called. No response. His heart sped up. "(Y/N)." He said, louder. You were gone. He swallowed the lump in his throat, ignoring the feelings of despair as he stood and walked over to you. He gently pulled your head forward and plunged his blade into the back of your head. He looked you over, noticing a rope necklace around your neck with some wooden beads strung over it. He untied it from the back of your neck and tied it around his own, before he lifted you in his arms and carried you to the prison.

When he arrived, he got plenty of questioning stares. Rick approached him.

"You know her?" He asked.

"Just met her. She was bit. Asked me to stay." Daryl said as he laid your body down gently on the grass. It took him over an hour to dig your grave, and a good while to fashion a marker for your grave. He stood there over your buried body for a while, wondering what life could have been for you if he found you earlier, if he found you before the bite, if you lived to see another day. He wiped the signal tear he shed for you before retreating inside, to his cell, to seclude himself and mourn the potential that was lost with your life.

#daryl dixon fanfic #twd daryl #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl x y/n #daryl x reader #daryl x you #daryl x female reader #sad #mdni

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jacksdinonuggets · 3 months

Text

~Lost And Found~

-Summary: Vaggie after the fall, gets found by Clara. she slips due to the pain but luckily Carmilla takes pity on her and gives her hospitality

Notes: I think vaggie is my favorite character now....

also, requests are still open, you can send an ask if you want to see vaggie suffer more and get comfort. or if you just want to see some fluff

The pain in Vaggie’s eye and back was pure agony. Breathing was difficult without spiking pain in her back. She wished she hadn’t gone to heaven. If you were one the seraphims or God couldn’t decide where to put you, you could choose to be an exorcist or go to hell. Now Vaggie was really regretting her decision.

As she crawled over to the dumpster, more pain ran throughout her body. Her breaths were ragged and heavy. She groaned as she forced herself to sip upwards. Her mind was starting to process what was happening. She was a bit slow in things and couldn’t process events until long after they happened. Realizing how heaven lied to her, how many souls she’s killed, and how many people she hurt, she let out a pained sob. She was a monster. She’d only kill so Adam wouldn’t beat her and instead praise her for her “amazing” work. Realizing how she’s been manipulated, she started to slip. No, not literally. Slip into her weak headspace. Littlespace.

She let out a wail as more pain, mentally and physically, flared up. She wasn’t able to mask as easy when she was small. If she felt like crying, she would wail her heart out. And unfortunately, that was happening.

“Hey, are you okay?” someone came running up to her. The person looked around and saw golden blood leaking from her eye and back. She saw her torn wings on the ground and the… stabbed eyeball. The person almost puked just looking at it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Vaggie whimpered, screwing her good eye shut, ready for it to end.

“Mama! You need to come see this!” The person shouted, trying to alert the attention of someone else.

Another figure came running over. She was tall, had ballet shoes and her hair was put up so it looked like horns. Once she saw the golden blood, she pulled the other girl close to her.

“That’s an angel, Clara, leave it to die,” The woman spat. Vaggie just cried louder, knowing her inevitable death would be painful instead of quick. The scene made the woman, Carmilla, feel a bit weird. Weren’t angel’s supposed to be tough?

“I’m sowwy! End it ‘wuick, pease!” Vaggie begged, not being able to stop her babyish lisp from coming out.

“Mama, she needs help. She’s clearly fallen. The exorcists left over 3 hours ago. Plus, only angelic weapons can hurt angels. Maybe she rebelled against them?” The girl, Clara, told her mother.

“We can perhaps return her to heaven and see if she really did fall,” The mother said. That freaked Vaggie out. Adam was going to kill her, torture her, do anything to her. She couldn’t bear it.

“No, no, no! Don’t send me back! Adam’s gonna huwt me, again!” she cried.

This piqued the mother’s interest. Adam was hurting his exorcists? Maybe this girl was worth saving anyways. Besides, this girl clearly was not in a big headspace, she would have to take care of her.

“Fine. We’ll patch you up and once you’re feeling better, you can tell us the whole story,” The women picked Vaggie up and started to carry her away. Vaggie muttered “I’m sorry,” over and over again during the walk back to their house.

“I understand that you’re sorry, you need to stop over apologizing, child,” She told her. Vaggie shut up but still let out a few whimpers due to the pain she was in.

During the walk, Carmilla couldn’t help but feel empathy for this girl. She probably did something like spare someone's life and they did this to her? It was cruel. The girl wasn’t a killer. Well, not now at least. She tried to ask the girl a few questions like her name, what happened, and what age she was feeling. She didn’t get much of an answer to the ‘what happened’ question but it did sound like she spared a soul and was really sorry for the whole extermination.

When they got to the house, Carmilla set her up on one of their guest beds before grabbing a first aid kit from the bathroom. The poor girl seemed to be shaking as she patched up her eye. She had to clean her back and knew it was probably going to be painful. She gave affirmations while Vaggie yelped in pain from the wet rag cleaning her wound.

Vaggie seemed to calm down when she began to bandage her back. However, the calmed silence was interrupted as Vaggie squeaked before hunching her shoulders and softly began to sob. Carmilla was facing her back and didn’t know what was going on. So she got up and went to face vaggie when she saw it. The girl had an accident.

“I- I’m sorwy, I didn’t mean to!” she cried. Carmilla should’ve been prepared for this. The girl was feeling very much in the baby range. These were bound to happen. So she quickly called odette into the room.

“Mija, go to the store and get some overnight adult diapers. Little one probably won’t be able to move much and it’ll be safer to have more absorbent ones,” Carmilla handed the blonde girl a fifty dollar bill and sent her off.

She didn’t know why but she felt this sort of weird connection with this angel. It felt like she was caring for her daughters when they were younger again. It got her feeling all maternal.

After undoing the bandages on her back, she carried to the bathroom and ran the bath.

“M sowry,” Vaggie said once more.

“It’s okay sweetie, accidents happen,”

Carmilla felt a lot less aggressive and assertive towards Vaggie as she bathed her. The girl was in so much pain that it was practically impossible. She probably in a lot of mental pain too.

Washing Vaggie’s hair was a bit hard because she couldn’t get the bandage wet. But she somehow managed to do it.

When Carmilla carried vaggie back to the room, she saw that the bedsheets were replaced and a bag of diapers, a bottle, and a stuffed bear waited for them on the bed. Odette must’ve seen what was happening with the girl’s headspace. The bottle was also full with warm milk too.

After changing her into some padding, a big pajama shirt to act as a nightgown, and new bandages, she set her in the bed and began to help feed her the bottle. Carmilla smiled. It’s been awhile since she’s done this but it felt nostalgic. She loved caring for her girls but they were all grown up now. It was nice to be able to care for a baby again.

Before long, the girl had fallen asleep with her new stuffed bear cuddle to her chest. No doubt she was exhausted from the pain she endured. Carmilla tucked her in and left the room. The next day was going to be tough, but she would have to push through it.

#hazbin hotel agere #agere writing #agere fanfic #sfw agere #age regression #sfw littlespace #ageredips #sfw age regression #sfw diaper wearing #padded agere #sfw padded agere #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel carmilla #mama carmilla

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damn-stark · 4 months

Text

Chapter 24 By saying something stupid like…

Chapter 24 of Sugar

A/N- Birthday post! Also sorry for what’s going to happen in this chapter ;)

Warning- Swearing, ANGST!!, FLUFF, spoilers, talks of miscarriage, SLOW BURN, heavy pining, talks of alcohol, drinking and smoking, long chapter

Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader

Takes place during- Chapter 202, and the beginning portion of 208 of the Manga

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

You remember the day that the power that coursed through your veins changed from a running creek to raging rapids.

Like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly, it was so rejuvenating! To your soul, to the very being you were. It was almost like before you came into full realization of your cursed technique you weren’t breathing, and the moment you unlocked your full capability you took breath in your lungs for the first time!

You really don’t know how you lived crippled like that for so long. You probably would have lived your entire life restricted if you had not left Satoru, home, and everything you knew. And if you never took Yuki Tsukumo’s offer.

You truly owe what you became to her. She kind of birthed you in a sense.

She wasn’t there the exact moment you were reborn, you had been separated from her and Todo and driven off the edge of a tall cliff that hung over a vicious ocean by a clan of curse users. But it was her training that accompanied you deep in the depths of the dark waters.

Breathe. Breathe…

Wait…you can’t breathe or you’ll fucking drown! So what do you do?

The waves are violent and thrashing you around making it impossible to focus, and your technique only truly works if you’re focused. So what can you do?

Die? Let this water drag you down a dark void?

It doesn’t sound so bad, it’s not like you were wanted all that much anyway. By your parents at least and by your brother who left you last year.

Suguru loves you. Nanako and Mimiko are growing to love you day by day when you talk with them on the phone. Todo tolerates you, and Yuki cares deeply for you, she wouldn’t have offered to waste her time training you or stuck around for as long as she has if she didn’t.

But you still are unwanted. So how bad can not existing be? Your lungs will fill with water and you'll cry with the need to breathe, minutes will feel like hours as you drown to death, but how could you keep cursing this world and your family by existing as a weak link?

You’ll close your eyes, and the pain won’t change as death is stealing your life, but then the weak link won't exist.

Just…keep your eyes closed…

“You are strong.”

Master?

“What they think of you doesn’t define you. You are not a weak link. You are a force to be reckoned with, never forget that.”

You open your eyes and don’t see her, you just see a school of angelfish swimming past you while her words sound in your head.

“Be the monster they think you are and never shame away from what you were given.”

As her words hit your heart and start pushing away that willingness to let yourself die, there in the distance you catch a light flicker on. It’s small but bright and it swims towards you, slowly taking shape the closer it gets.

At first, you can’t identify what it is you see coming at you, but then when it finally reaches you, you see that it’s a ball of fire, and inside it are darker flames that are shaped into a menacing figure you can’t help but admire.

“Never lose your heart, y/n.”

Never…

The ball of fire disappears proving to be a figment of your imagination to push you to ask yourself why you're letting them win so easily.

You can’t let them. You’ve been taught better, you’re stronger than that. A hundred times stronger. So what are you doing?

You have to get out and fight back.

Besides what kind of elemental manipulator would you be if you died by drowning in water you can control?

You probably only have seconds of air left in your lungs before you start gasping for more, but those seconds mean nothing now as you filter your cursed energy through the water around you, and pass it through miles of heavy water, before you pull down the water down until your head pokes out and you can breathe in fresh air again.

The group of curse users that had been after you are hastily descending the hill to finish you off or make sure you’re dead, but they don’t see you in the water because of the cloudy night. They don’t even notice the waterline at shore pulling back as if a tsunami is about to strike down. They don’t pay attention to the wind quickly picking up speed as it rushes past them.

They do feel the earth below them start to rumble when your cursed energy seeps through the ocean ground and stretches out miles you never could reach before. When they finally step off the hill they notice a fireline come to life and give light to the fact that the water is missing from shore and drawing back further out, before the flames do the impossible by crawling over the water.

The ground begins to tremble more violently to the point the earth around them is cracking, and finally, they question what's escalating. “What’s happening?” You hear one of them panic.

The wind starts to howl, and the cracks begin to glow as you leak fire through them without having them notice just yet.

“It’s her,” one of their voices trembles as they figure it out, considering that Mother Nature isn’t capable of doing what’s happening at this very moment.

“Eyes in the water!” One of them finally thinks.

And when their gazes follow the fire trail out into the water they finally spot you miles out, creepily walking out of the water that draws past you.

Fire basks your arms completely, and flames cascade down your hands to fuel the cracks spreading out like wildfire, and beautifully but menacingly mix with the gusts of air that start to swirl around your feet and gain height.

“Kill her!” One of them bellows as they point at you slowly creeping forward.

The cursed energy running out of your stomach travels throughout every inch of your body and for the first time it strikes your heart, making it jolt, and making you fear that it somehow stopped—Then again you wouldn't be standing upright or be as coherent as you are now, but you do have that sudden fear until this never before sense of power strikes your body and awakens a part of you that you didn’t know existed.

It’s so bizarre, yet it's a satisfying rush that gives new life to the very technique you were born with. Intensifying its power to its maximum degree, and changing something within you that you don’t notice yet, but the group of curse users do.

It isn’t possible, but to them, it seems that way. To them it looks like red-orange fire leaks through your eyes and burns away the very eye color you were born with to take over and settle in your eyes and show everyone who looked at you how powerful you are and how menacing you can be.

Nevertheless, they don’t scare away, they stand their ground, so you decide to play with what you just got by right away picking up the wind's speed, and then fueling the fire's intensity. You widen the cracks in the ground while also creating more. And lastly, you stop walking toward them and begin to smirk before you throw your hands up as you raise the water behind you hundreds of feet into the sky, once and for all showing your change in power.

——

That was the day everything changed for the better.

“So dismantling his domain huh?” You greet Yuki without looking back at her, you recognized her loud footsteps from the moment they started to echo as she approached.

“It’s the only way to defeat Kenjaku,” she says as she sits back on the lounging chair.

You lean over the balcony and just mindlessly watch the passing clouds in the sky with an unlit cigarette in between your fingers as you debate whether to give into your vices and prove that you’re stress goes beyond just worry for this upcoming fight, or leave the cigarette unused to prove to yourself that the thought of his sacrifice doesn’t mean a thing.

“What, you're not going to try and stop me from being stupid?” Yuki interjects shamelessly. “Or is that fight only reserved for the men you love?”

Pft!

Tsk. No.

Her words are stupid, silly.

“No,” you laugh and light the cigarette. “You’re stupid I don’t love him. He’s…” why did you hesitate? “He’s my friend. He’s a good friend.”

“Mhmm,” Yuki hums sassily as she knows you too well.

“And no,” you interject abruptly. “I won’t fight you.”

You turn around to face her and lean back against the railing.

“Because I trust you,” you continue explaining with a genuine look painted on your face. “Every move you make that day I’ll trust with my whole heart.”

The corner of her lips spread to a smile before she puts sunglasses on and leans back to relax, as usually does. It’s why people call her lazy, and even if it is partially true, the other reason is that she does a lot that people don’t see. Her times off are well deserved.

“Besides it's not like you’re planning to sacrifice yourself now are you?” You ask and draw in a short drag of your cigarette.

“Well,” Yuki slowly rolls out. “Who knows really? As much as we can plan when the time comes things change. We have to adapt to what’s thrown at us. If that means making the ultimate move then I’ll make it, no hesitation.”

You keep the cigarette in between your lips and draw in a long and deep drag now.

“Would you?” She redirects.

You leave your gaze on her for a moment before you drop your eyes to the ground and pull the cigarette out to drop the ash on the floor whilst you stay quiet even if the question needs no time to ponder over.

“If the need arises yes,” you share quietly just out of shame for one thing. “I’d much rather give my daughter and my students a chance for an easier life even if it means I’m not in it.” You sigh and pull the cigarette towards your lips. “Satori will grow up resenting me for leaving her alone, but at least she won’t be tormented by one evil.”

You expected to cry as those heartbreaking words came out of your mouth. When you think about your daughter having to live without you any other time tears never fail to well in your eyes as your heart can’t handle the agony, but right now maybe it’s the fact that you’re comforted by Yuki’s presence, or just enveloped by the seriousness of the moment, but you don’t cry. You just smoke the death stick in between your lips. So maybe that’s it too.

“And if it happens,” you add just above a whisper. “If I’m the one that dies that day…free my brother, will you?” You ask not because he’s the strongest and the sorcerer world as you know it needs him, but because your world needs him.

“Of course, that’s the plan,” she fails to understand the true meaning behind your question.

“No,” you argue and raise your head to share a pressing look. “Satori will need him. I left him in charge of her if anything happens. So please if something happens to me, get him out as quickly as you can.”

Yuki lifts her head and pushes her glasses down her nose to make sure that you see her brown eyes on you as she assures you. “I will.”

You let out a deep breath of relief and finally break away from your spot to walk behind her.

“Can I braid your hair?” You ask.

“Not if you have that cigarette lit. What if you burn my hair?” She remarks, making you pout and walk over to kill the cigarette on the ashtray before you return behind her.

“Sit up,” you command as you sanitize your hands so they don’t feel so dirty after that cigarette.

Yuki groans in protest but she lazily pushes herself up to leave you access to her long blond hair.

“You know,” you share thoughtfully while you carefully gather her hair in your hands. “When I was young, my mother always told me that doing your hair, putting on makeup, and dressing nicely was a weapon. They think of you as an accessory, she said, and that’s what gives you an advantage.” You scoff softly and start to carefully knead her hair together from the top of her head.

“I used to think she was wise, but as I grew up her words don’t hold as much inspiration anymore. They’re quite sad,” you admit. “Given she’s still at home, living a miserable life beside a man who doesn’t love her anymore.”

“Well,” Yuki sighs as she drapes one leg over the other. “Given her situation, I guess those words mean something to her. She expected you to live the same way, and wanted to share her knowledge the only way she knew how to.”

You often thought of it like that. When you were younger of course, but now, maybe it’s because of all the resentment clouding your head, but those words are terrible advice, why would she want you to live like that too?

Why wouldn’t she fight for something better for you? Sure you use your femininity to your advantage, the world dominated by men demands it, but there’s a difference between her advice and the choices you make.

“I suppose,” you whisper in comprehension. “But why wouldn’t she say, like, get all pretty if you want to, don’t do it for anyone but yourself, you know? If that makes you happy then do it.”

Yuki shrugs and mumbles, “you were raised differently.”

“Yeah, I guess we were. But I still wish I could be like, I’m hot with all the pretty getup and I’m hot without it too. And thousands of people think so too.”

“And your face is worth thousands of bucks,” Yuki adds on to your case.

You grin. “Boom! Exactly!” You exclaim and laugh softly.

“Now,” Yuki blurts with a sudden burst of energy that slightly catches you off guard since she was just so calm. “Why not let yourself love again?”

You sigh deeply through your nose, making her snicker and sit up straighter, causing her hair to slip out of your fingers.

“Hold still,” you hiss and grab her hair to yank her head back.

“I mean the guy is your type, he’s obviously head over heels for you, and you’ve grieved long enough,” she continues to say, bringing irritation to your once peaceful mind. “Plus Geto told you to find someone else, so I don’t understand your hesitance. Just jump his bones already.” She snickers cheekily.

You let her hair go this time and walk to the side of her chair to look at her with a judgy look. “Jump his bones?” You question and she laughs.

“Want me to get dirty or what?” She teases.

You roll your eyes and return to your spot to finish braiding half of her hair.

“What? Are you going to be single forever?” She follows up with another question in your silence.

“Yuki,” you mumble seriously.

“Tsk.” She flicks her wrist. “If you’re going to say it’s too soon, yeah I’m aware of when he died, but,” she goes serious, losing the lightheartedness from her tone. “You can mourn him however long you want y/n, but the truth of the matter is that he’ll still be dead.”

Your breath hitches and your irritation quickly transforms into anger.

“So why should you deny yourself something good because of it? We as sorcerers don’t have a promise of a long life you know?”

You part your lips to contradict her, but there’s some truth behind her words you don’t want to admit out loud, so instead you let your anger dwindle and bring up another fact. “You know what I’ve done…I don’t deserve any kind of kindness that love brings.”

“So what? Is he innocent?” She rebuttals. “It doesn’t matter how bloody your hands are, y/n—”

“It does to me. I don’t deserve being loved like that. Especially not by someone as good-hearted as him.” you cut her off while you collect the end of her half-braid and the rest of her hair into a ponytail.

Yuki feels you finish before you let her know and peers back to pierce her scolding glare into you. “You can’t let your fear of losing someone control you,” she says without needing you to say it. She sees it in you. “You’ll end up alone and that’s what you fear the most isn’t it?”

You part your lips, but you’re left too stunned to talk.

Behind your own protests, the fear of feeling that emptiness again terrifies you. Suguru’s death made you feel empty for so long, and losing the child you were expecting only worsened the fact. You don’t want to feel it again. So even if it means yearning forever, you told yourself that you won’t put yourself through that again, and you won’t put anyone through that pain either.

You don’t get to tell Yuki that though because someone with light and bare footsteps approaches the balcony. And neither of you need to look back to know that it’s Tengen.

“Well if it isn’t you, Star killer,” you greet them spitefully.

Tengen hums and walks around Yuki and you, to be able to see your faces.

“You know,” they interject calmly. “Ever since you’ve gotten here all you’ve ever given me is judgment. That’s a lot coming from a woman who’s drowning in the blood of hundreds of people.”

You focus on one set of eyes and narrow your gaze as you press a hand on your hip.

They probably expected you to fold over in grief, but you instead chuckle. You genuinely laugh. Which doesn’t stun Tengen.

“Yes, I am,” you admit with a hint of smugness and no hesitation or an ounce of remorse. You’ve felt bad before, but that was long ago and has long been resolved when you chose your path in life and decided to not live in regret out of fear of hating yourself.

That’s why you’re smug and certain with every word. “I embraced evil. I’m a monster. I accept it and I don’t regret what I did. We’re sides of the same coin, so I don’t judge you for that, I don’t hate you for that. You failed to save my friend, and you wanted to kill my mentor. That’s why I hate you.” You smile sweetly.

“And yet you’re here,” they point out the damn obvious.

You nod stiffly. “You have the door to open my brother's prison. Helping you could mean saving the Jujutsu world as we know it, of course, I’m here. You’re not planning to kill me, are you? An act of justice?”

Tengen scoffs and drops their head. “No,” they say. “You’re my guard. And I, unlike you, don't judge.”

You huff and feign a smile before you lean towards one side to then walk over and sit beside Yuki to lay back and rest too.

“What do you want, Tengen?” Yuki questions their presence. “We’ve brainstormed all we needed to for today.”

Tengen softly claps their hands and a creepy smile spreads on their pale rectangular face. “I've come to invite you both to a nice bar date the night after tomorrow. I’ve already let the Death painting womb—.”

“Choso,” you correct them. “His name is Choso. He’s going to risk his life for you, you might as well say his name.”

Tengen clears their throat and reiterates themselves. “I let Choso know. I just needed to let you know, so wear something fancy. Black tie is the dress code.”

It’s kind of random, you never thought they’d be one to be considerate considering he’s a higher being, but you do like this idea.

“What’s the occasion?” Yuki probes in confusion. “Fattening us up before Kenjaku kills us or what?”

Tengen lets out a deep sigh and for the second time, they sound annoyed at Yuki. “No, it’s simply a nice evening. So you can all enjoy yourselves while you’re here.”

You smile as you slide on some expensive shades over your eyes so they don’t see you closing them. “Well, I for one like the idea. It gives me an excuse to wear the gown I was supposed to wear for the Gala.”

“Ah, is that the excuse you’re saying?” Yuki taunts you, making your lip curl to a scowl.

“Shut up. I'll burn your hair.” You grimace your threat and make her laugh before you both can go on ignoring Tengen to enjoy your evening side by side.

——

*LATER*

“Guys! Guys!” You shout as you burst into the room with a happy grin on your lips. “Look what Ijichi just brought me from home!” You exclaim and show off a magazine that Yuki and Choso can’t see from where they’re sitting.

“Remind me,” Yuki interjects curiously. “Who’s Ijichi again?”

“He’s, uh, a head manager at the school,” you remind Yuki as you walk to the table she’s at. “He was my only underclassman when I was in my second year.”

“Ah right? The geeky guy.”

“Mhmm. Anyway.” You beam and reach the table to slam down the magazine in between Choso and Yuki. “My new manager sent me the December issue of the magazine I’m featured in before its release date!”

Both Choso and Yuki lean over the table to take a better look at what you’re showing off.

“It’s me in a shoot inspired by the Birth Venus!” You explain the cover you're on.

“Hot,” Yuki immediately compliments you with a faint smirk. “I thought you were retiring though?”

You plop yourself down and fold your arms over the tabletop to lean over with your chin resting on your arms. “Yeah, well the editor of this magazine is a friend of mine and he wanted me to be on the cover, so when he pitched the idea I couldn’t resist. Plus Kinji, Kira, and the twins pushed me to take the job, so I did it,” you muse as you admire the cover and avoid looking at Choso’s reaction as he keeps studying the cover as if he’s trying to really look at every single detail.

One because you can’t let your heart swoon and get all flustered by how soft his eyes are as he examines the cover, and two, you’re still upset at him for his choice at yesterday's meeting.

“You look great with that black wig,” Yuki points out to another version of you in the same photo but depicted as one of the other figures from the painting.

“Aw really?” You coo and touch your chest. “Should I dye my hair black?”

“No,” Choso blurts. “Your hair color is fine as it is.”

Yuki holds your gaze and tries to show a teasing smile, but you look away and clench your jaw to fight the giddy emotions trying to take over.

“Your eyes,” Choso continues to add. “They’re a different color. Why?”

You swallow thickly and only spare a glance his way. “It’s harder landing jobs with my eyes the color they are,” you explain to him with your eyes focused on the magazine. “And it’s just not all that common, so to avoid making things hard, I wear contacts of the eye color my eyes were before.”

“Oh, well, the color of your eyes now is more than fine, you shouldn’t change it,” he says bluntly without an ounce of timidness.

But you do grow timid and clear your throat while you bite back a smile. “Thanks,” you mutter.

“You look…” Choso clears his throat. “Very beautiful. Congratulations on your achievement.”

Your face immediately burns hot and your heart skips a beat before it starts to pound. “Uh, thank you, Choso,” you manage to say completely collected.

Yuki hides her teasing smile by picking up the magazine and flipping through the pages.

“Uh did you hear Yaga’s dead?” You try to fill the silence to avoid talking to Choso or letting him talk to you. “He was killed by the old bag of bones Gakuganji.”

“I heard,” Yuki mumbles with her attention wavered. “I didn’t expect anyone else to do it honestly. The higher-ups are all slimy pieces of shit.”

“You said it,” you agree.

Her phone then goes off and she jumps off her seat to take it out of her back pocket. “I’m going to take this,” she excuses herself as she drags herself away with a small smile. “Have fun,” she directs at you before she closes the door behind her, leaving Choso and you alone in a silence you fill with tension due to the emotions you can’t turn off.

You could actually sit in silence since you pick up the magazine and go through it, but you’ve barely said a word to Choso since yesterday, even now you can barely look at him, he can’t last another day with you obviously upset at him.

“Y/N, you’re upset,” he breaks the silence.

You lift the magazine higher up to cover your face completely and mutter to the pages with pouted lips. “It’s your life, you can throw your life away if you want to.”

“I’m…” he pauses and sighs before he leans over and pushes the magazine down with his finger so you can look at him and know that he’s being sincere. “I’m not throwing my life away. If it happens I’m sacrificing my life away for my—”

“For your brothers, I know,” you cut him off and shut the magazine with force before you throw it on the table and continue with a narrowed look and anger laced in your tone. “But do you really think Yuji will see it that way after finally understanding what you are to each other? Do you really think your brothers would want that? Don’t you think they want you to fight and live instead of fight and die?”

You don’t shy away from being honest, after all, you've been building up that argument.

It leaves Choso speechless both from disbelief to your emotions so boldly shared and expressed, and to what you’re saying. He has to take a minute before coming up with an argument. “I hope my brothers will understand.”

You scoff and drop your head, making him continue to try and make you see it his way.

“Yuji will understand. Besides, it’s not like he’s known me for long. It’s been 12 days since we met. If I die I’ll only be a fleeting memory to him. He doesn’t need me really. No one does.”

Your pout disappears, your eyebrows slowly ease from their pinched hold, and your shoulders fall as you let out the deep breath you were holding in with your anger as his words sink into your heart.

You don’t regret your harshness, you don’t regret your anger. You still are upset, his words don’t ease that. No matter how much you try to fight it, your anger just doesn’t disappear, but right now you feel pity and sadness that he thinks that because it’s not true.

“Listen to me Choso,” you speak softer. “Yuji will need his big brother. Now more than ever. Especially in times after this is over, in the down times. He’ll need you. And the rest will too.”

Choso draws out a shaky breath and his brown eyes gleam with tears.

“And I…” you pause and catch your heart before it can say what it wants.

Yet you need him to understand, you need him to see things your way, and you need to fight so your fear doesn’t come true. “…I’ll need my friend.”

His breath hitches and he sits up straighter.

“I’ve lost too many friends. I don’t want to lose another…so at least fight a bit more to just stay alive.”

He holds your gaze with his eyes slowly widening, his lips slightly parted, and his cheeks burning as a blush grazes on them.

You can’t know what’s happening inside him, but he does feel like his heart stops and his breath gets caught in his throat while it all goes quiet, and only you exist in this vast space before you disappear too and all he sees is a few seconds of darkness. When he blinks though, he's suddenly somewhere else; outside, surrounded by a sea of grass that looks gold by the sun's gentle light casting over the earth. There’s tall trees scattered around, and a gentle and warm breeze blows past him.

He hears laughter and when he follows it he sees his little brother Yuji with blankets under one arm and a girl with long dark hair sitting on his shoulder. He can’t see her face but in the back of his head, he knows it’s your daughter, Satori. Which is odd because the only time he’s seen her is the other day behind a screen when you introduced them.

Yet he doesn’t dare question any of it further. He accepts what’s happening because he feels happy, comforted, and he feels something overwhelmingly positive, something new but welcoming, something that fills him with a never-ending warmth, something like love. It's not a new feeling, he's always felt all these emotions because he knew he loved his brothers, but right now it’s heightened to an astounding amount.

“Choso,” he hears your voice, soft and oozing with honey.

“Hm?” He probes and drifts his eyes ahead to see your white hair gleaming brightly because of the sun's light bouncing off your hair. He sees the skirt of your soft pink dress flowing gently because of the breeze, and he notices you holding something as you walk down the hill.

“Look who’s awake,” you say excitedly before you turn around and show off a little baby that looked to be a few months old, with white hair like yours, and wearing a pink sundress that coordinated with yours.

“Why don’t you say hi to Daddy,” you tell the baby with a happy smile. “Hi, Daddy.”

The baby girl glances at you and smiles, causing his heart to swoon and for an awe-struck smile of his own to tug on his lips as he watches you and…his baby he shared with you.

There was nothing more he was assured of than the fact that the baby in your arms was his and yours. You shared a good and happy life and a little blessing.

“She said it!” You exclaim delusionally. “Say it again, hi Daddy.”

The baby's eyes stay on Choso and she coos, making him smile brightly.

“Good evening, my girl,” he greets the baby, and she squeals before she throws her arms out and reaches for him.

Without an ounce of hesitation, Choso picks up his pace and reaches out to take the baby. However, before he could wrap his hands around her he blinks and suddenly it's all gone and he’s back in the parlor room with you sitting across from him with a black kimono on and no baby in your arms.

It was all just a fake memory…

One he wanted to come true more than anything.

“Choso?” You call out in concern and a hint of annoyance as he looks like he suddenly spaced out.

“Hm?” He snaps his attention to you.

You narrow your gaze to study him for a second, but you don’t find anything concerning so you sit back and relax, failing to realize that he was just stuck in a fake memory triggered by a sudden realization he had of you.

“Did you hear me?” You query with worry.

“Yes. And I’ll try,” he assures you, making you let out a small breath that makes your anger slowly fizzle out and a faint smile grows on your lips.

“That’s all I ask,” you say softly . “Now,” you change the subject as the room finally loses the tension you had filled it with. “I should let you know that Kinji and Kirara called me, they’ve met with Itadori and Fushiguro.”

“Oh. That’s good,” he says and sits back to tuck his hands in his sleeves. “Did they agree to help?”

You smile wider and nod. “Yeah. After a bit of fun back and forth they said they agreed.”

Choso sighs and nods. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

You pick up the magazine to return to the page you were on before you got interrupted. “You should text Itadori,” you suggest. “It doesn't have to be a long conversation, just ask him how he’s doing. And then ask him what he has planned for the day. I don’t know, something simple.”

“Do you think…he’ll appreciate it?” Choso asks with concern.

You glance over at him and nod. “Yeah. I’m sure he would. I always liked it when my brother checked up on me.”

Choso lets out a deep breath and nods before he pulls his phone out of his pocket and stares at the screen.

“Could you help me?” He asks with his normal deep voice, but there was a way he said his question that makes you grin.

“Of course,” you don’t hesitate to give in and put the magazine down to quickly fall beside him and help.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

Feeling nervous about the way you look and the thought of walking into that cantina date is something that hasn’t happened in a long time.

You tend to get nervous sometimes, more so when you were younger. It was a part of growing up, but as you grew up and grew to be more confident, feeling nauseous and self-conscious about the way you look went away.

Maybe it is because you went on dates with the same man for 11 years of your life, or because when you worked in your public job as a model you just didn’t care what non-sorcerers had to say or what they thought about you. But tonight, ever since you started getting ready for the cantina date Tengen hosted, your nerves are just eating you up. It’s annoying and persistent!

You almost want to avoid walking in the cantina when you stop outside the double doors, but what else are you going to do in this isolated place? Stay in your room and watch a movie or read a book?

You can do that any other night, so after a deep breath you slide the doors open and walk in to see a pretty small and casual cantina with a jukebox in one corner, a stage with a piano, and…in front of the long bar Choso steals all your attention, and you realize how much trouble you’re in as you notice how absolutely breathtaking he looks in a black and white suit that all gets tied together with a sloppy bowtie.

He looks so gentle, and his already rich brown eyes only gleam a much more intense rich brown in that formal suit tempting you to risk it all and crush the wall you’re putting up. He entices you without as much as trying.

But that’s it you almost give in, you remain collected no matter how majestic he looks.

However, him on the other hand, his rich brown eyes found you the moment the doors opened, and when your eyes landed on him it was like he was seeing you for the first time; he inhales deeply and straightens up while his eyes widen, a fluttering goes off in his stomach, and his heart begins to pound in his chest to the point he thought you could notice.

He always liked looking at you, he found peace in watching you, but right now as you gleamed like a divine star in your long black gown adorned with thousands of tiny rhinestones, he felt like he wasn’t worthy enough to be looking at you. It's like you were a goddess who just came from above.

And he didn’t know much about gods and goddesses, but he knew you were one now.

“Y/N Gojo, I’m glad you could make it,” Tengen’s greeting startles you, causing you to clutch onto your chest with your gloved hand and look at them in annoyance.

“You fucking scared me, prick,” you sneer, “you need to stop appearing like that.”

Tengen smiles with amusement. “Jumpy? It’s only the same people you’ve been with for the past 4 days.”

You glare at them and finally depart from the entrance, but not without muttering under your breath. “Why don’t you shove that greeting up your ass.”

“I heard that.”

“Good,” you quip and look back at Choso with a genuine smile. “Choso. Good evening.”

Said man swallows thickly and clears his throat. “Good evening, y/n.”

You stop before him and discreetly study him from up close, noticing how well the suit hugged his muscles, and how the neckline hugs his veiny and muscular neck before you force your focus on his sloppy bow tie. “Uh, can I fix your bow?” You ask first just in case he doesn’t want your help.

Choso glances down at his bow and brushes his fingers over it, noticing now that it’s messed up. “Oh,” he mouths. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

You flash him a happy smile before you take a step closer to the point you can feel each other's breaths unfurl over your flesh, and you can feel the warmth of his lips tempting you for just a taste as you begin to help him.

“Uh,” Choso breathes out. “Is that…the gown you were going to wear for the gala thing you mentioned.”

You stop fixing his bow tie to first glance at his lips before you lock eyes and smile. “Yeah, actually. I didn’t want to let it go to waste so I said why not wear it for an hour or two tonight.”

Choso holds your gaze and nods softly before his eyes flicker down to your lips, and then they take in the long gloves that match your black dress, before he lastly looks at the slits on the sides of your dress that show off your soft-looking skin, and make his mind run wild. That's why he quickly drops his gaze to the floor and speaks sweetly. “Well, you look very…beautiful in it…is that okay to say?”

Your breath hitches and your face and body grow incredibly hot, but you manage to play it off with a giggle. “Yeah,” you assure him. “That’s totally fine. Thank you Choso.”

You focus back on fixing his bow tie and avoid looking into his eyes as you bring up a compliment of your own. “And you can pull off a suit my friend.” You laugh nervously, and out of their own will, your eyes fly to his lips before you meet his gaze. “You look very handsome.”

And he did. He absolutely pulls off the suit with his buns and those dreamy brown eyes of his. He looked just breathtakingly sexy and you want nothing more but to grab him and kiss him. He made your heart swoon and sigh like a love-struck fool.

You could just stare at him all day, the sight of him dressed so formally is so addicting. And you know deep inside it’s not good to feel so strongly for him, you and your mind are trying to fight against every aroused feeling filling your heart and body, but having him right before you looking as beautiful as he does makes you feel yourself losing the fight.

“Oh,” he gasps and grows a deep red. “Thank you. Uh, Tengen loaned me the suit.”

“Hm, well they picked the right one,” you continue to fluster him before you gently pat on his fixed bow tie. “All better.”

Choso glances at your finished work and nods. “Thank you. Now,” he clears his throat and steals one more glance at your painted lips before he turns to his side. “Do you want to sit while we wait for Tsukumo?”

Before you can agree Choso pulls out your seat for you.

“Oh wow, look at you,” you praise him with a beaming grin while you slide on the seat. “Thank you, Cho. Now,” you shift your attention to Tengen walking behind the bar. “Tengen two tequilas, please. And do them half. I don't want to scare off my friend here.”

“You know,” Choso interjects as he takes a seat beside you. “I don’t even think I can get drunk.”

You look away from Tengen preparing what you asked for to look at Choso smugly. “Oh, we can try. We can definitely try. Just,” you sigh and look ahead with a grin. “Don’t get me drunk. The last time I got drunk I cried and had to be helped to bed.”

“If you puke you’ll clean it up,” Tengen throws at you, making you laugh.

“Don’t worry as long as you don’t give me any of Miguel’s concoctions I’m good, one time,” you tell Choso. “Miguel made this very good but intoxicating drink, I was sick for days. I almost got alcohol poisoning…” you trail off and a frown flickers on your face as you recall flashes of those days with your family that’s mostly all gone now.

Choso notices but he doesn’t get to question it before Tengen puts the small cups out before you, causing your smile to reappear on your features.

“Now,” you change the atmosphere back to an amusing one. “You can drink it fast, or by sips. Whatever you prefer, but personally I drink it in one go.”

Choso looks at the clear drink with skepticism before he picks it up.

“Lime?” You offer as Tengen puts some out for you. “It helps for after you drink.”

“Do you take it?”

You snort. “Honey, I should not be saying this so proudly, but I have been drinking since I was a teenager, I’m a pro.” You laugh and pick up the drink to push the little cup towards him. “Cheers to…us. Our friendship.” You smile sweetly.

Choso doesn’t hesitate to clink his cup against yours to that, a bit too harshly may you add, but he only wasted a few drops, it wasn’t hard enough to break the cup or spill the entire drink. Luckily.

“Now go!” You exclaim and slam the bottom of the cup against the surface before you part your lips and swiftly swallow the strong tequila in one go.

Choso on the other hand manages to swallow it all quickly, but as it goes down his throat it burns and he immediately expresses that by scrunching his nose in disgust and coughing.

“How do you drink that shit?” He asks hoarsely, making you grab his arm and laugh—“I don’t find it funny.” He grumbles.

You laugh harder and mindlessly lean towards him.

“Another round,” you say between laughs. “This time,” you tell Choso. “Suck on the lime.”

Choso doesn’t argue against another drink, he just sighs deeply and takes the lime. “All right I’m trusting you.” He says.

You slide your hand off his arm and lean back to your space. “The taste won't go away, but it grows on you. If not then your tastes lie somewhere else.”

Tengen returns your cups with more alcohol, but before you can pick them up this time, the doors open and Yuki finally joins the party.

“You started without me,” she complains.

You peer back and huff. “Yeah, you’re late. Don’t worry though it won’t take you long to catch up.”

Choso gets out of his seat and pulls out Yuki’s seat for her just like he did for you.

“You look nice, Tsukumo,” Choso compliments her.

Yuki grins. “Thanks and you don’t look bad yourself.”

When she sits down she leans forward to take a look at you. “You look very elegant.”

You clasp your gloved hands together and flash her a sweet smile. “Thank you, master. You look quite breathtaking yourself.”

“Always.”

You forget how similar her personality is to Satoru’s. It can be annoying a lot of the time.

“Anyway,” you bring the attention back to the bar. “Catch up or get left behind.”

As soon as you say that Tengen doesn’t falter and leaves a small shot glass in front of Yuki.

“Okay, before we drink,” she says and turns to face Choso and you. “I just want to announce that Maki Zen’in annihilated the Zen’in clan.”

Your eyes widen with shock, and your lips express your glee.

“Naoya Zen’in included,” she adds. “We should toast to that.”

You laugh breathlessly and pick up your cup. “You know,” you share with growing pride for the girl without cursed energy. “Shoko called me this morning and said she needed to tell me something, we got distracted talking about other things so she never told me. I bet this was it.” You laugh again and nod slowly in comprehension. “The other clans must be fuming.”

“Why?” Choso asks innocently, unaware of the disdain for the disgrace that people born with no cursed energy are in sorcerer families—“I thought you said your family didn’t get along with the Zen’in clan?”

You put your cup down and sigh. “They don’t, but having a clan be killed by a woman with no cursed energy is…how can I put this…it’s a catastrophe.”

Choso scratches his head in confusion but doesn’t dare dive into that conversation.

“It doesn’t matter,” Yuki cuts in as she slaps her hands on the tabletop. “They’re gone. And so is y/n’s husband that never was.” She snickers. “Let’s cheers to that, and Maki for her achievement.”

You pick up your cup and the three of you come together to clink your cups together with smiles not formed by the toast, but instead the joy of the simple moment before it’s completely washed over by overwhelming humor as Yuki and you catch Choso’s bad reaction to the strong drink.

“Careful,” Yuki manages to muster after she calms down. “Give y/n any more drinks and she’ll hop on that piano and she’ll give you a show.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “It happened one time…three times,” you mutter with embarrassment as you recall the memory of years ago.

“One time when we were visiting the States,” Yuki doesn’t get the hint. “We came across a bar mainly used by soldiers, we got drunk because we were having so much fun, and this one,” she points at you. “Had all the soldiers eating out of her hand with her skills on the piano.”

You drop your head on your hand and groan. “Ten years,” you grumble. “Ten years of lessons because my mother said it was good for a woman to have more elegant skills besides fighting. I had to show it off.” You lift your head and only show off a faint smile before you hide it by taking a long sip of the drink Tengen made for you.

“You both often share stories of your past. How long were you traveling together?” Choso asks as he sits back to try and get a good look at Yuki and you.

“A year,” you and Yuji answer simultaneously.

“She showed me part of the world,” you muse with admiration. “Some would say we were bumming it. But we just had fun along the way.”

“Yeah and then you had to go and get married,” Yuki almost says with a hint of annoyance.

You lean towards her to point out a fact. “We still traveled after that, Master.”

Yuki shrugs lazily. “We never had the same fun though,” she whines, a truth you had yet to hear.

You stick out your tongue and then roll your head away to look at your drink. Silence comes through, but you don’t let it last long.

“We’re going to play a game, okay? It’s not a drinking game,” you let Yuki know already before she gets her hopes up. “It’s just a question game. We ask questions and answer honestly.”

“Huh? What kind of game is that?” Yuki complains.

“Just…play it,” you press between gritted teeth before you drop your irritation with a deep breath and peer over at the people beside you. “What do you want out of life? It can be a year from now, months, a decade, or even five years from now. Just say what you want.”

Both Choso and Yuki let out a pensive breath, and in their silence, your answer already comes to you without struggle because it’s something you pondered over lately.

“Well,” Yuki is the first to break the silence. “I don’t know, maybe teach someone else. I think that’d be fun, I enjoy passing on my knowledge,” she shares thoughtfully. “Or complete my study on those born without cursed energy but have a heavenly restriction.”

“So Maki Zen’in?” You interject, earning the attention of her big brown eyes.

“Exactly. Now,” she trails off and leans towards you on the tabletop. “You.”

She’s aiming for a specific answer, you can see it through her wide charming smile, but you don’t give her the satisfaction, you don’t let your heart win just yet.

“Well,” you sigh and fiddle with the straw in your drink. “I want to go to Mexico. I hear the beaches there are beautiful. I think going there will be fun,” you share honestly, but it’s one truth to disguise your true desire.

Yuki is smart albeit, she learned to read you the first year you trained with her. She quickly tries to unmask you. “Spit it out. That’s bullcrap.”

Choso looks at you and Yuki slightly stunned simply over the fact that Yuki could read that off you without you needing to change the way your expression currently rests. He can read you, he’s starting to know what you feel with a simple look in your eyes because of how much time you spent in the silence of each other's company, but he has yet to learn this.

“Okay,” you hesitantly give in just because of the intimacy of the moment. “But if you laugh I will stop sharing.”

“Pft,” she blows you off as if she doesn’t have the tendency to do that shit.

“Well,” you start off timidly. “I…want to have more kids.” You begin to smile at the possibility of your future. “I had fun growing up with my brother. I want Satori to have that too. I don’t want her to grow up alone.”

You take a peek at the pair beside you and see Choso clutching onto his drink with his jaw clenched and his eyes spaced out in his drink. While Yuki tries to fight off something snarky to say.

And her stifled reactions does make you want to stop right there, but you decide not to be so petty and continue. “I also enjoyed carrying her, and I just love watching her grow up. I loved the baby stage too, so I want to go through that again.”

“And who will be the father of these babies?” Yuki can’t hold back. It was killing her. “Are you turkey basting? Or,” she rolls out teasingly and shifts her eyes to point them at the man beside her, but you snap Choso out of his stupor by slapping your cup on the table and then blurting.

“Actually I was thinking of asking your dad, Yuki,” you quip sassily, making her scowl—“don’t you want siblings?”

“Funny, I hate your jokes,” she grumbles and takes a drink from her alcoholic beverage.

You snicker and drop your gaze on Choso as you were on your way to refocus on your drink, and actually notice that his eyes are filled with what you read as slight nervousness.

What about though you wonder but don’t ask. You just take a drink yourself before you share one more desire. “I've also been thinking of establishing an orphanage in the community,” you whisper. “I want to help sorcerer children just like…the twins. Sorcerer children abandoned by their families or mistreated by non-humans.”

Tears threaten to fall, but you don’t let yourself cry, you smile with hope instead, gaining a first response from Choso.

“That’s nice, y/n.”

“Hm. Now,” you swiftly drive the focus to him considering he’s the only one who needs to answer. “You. What do you want? And yes I know you're unsure about your future, but amuse us for tonight.”

Choso holds your gaze for a moment before that faint smile slowly falls and he worries you with a growing depressed look he aims ahead of him.

“I have a question actually,” he interjects with sorrow laced in his nonchalant tone. “Is that okay?”

Yuki and you share a concerned look before she assures him. “Of course.”

Choso picks up his drink but he doesn’t take a sip, he just holds his cup and goes ahead with his question. “Am I…”human”?”

You blink repeatedly with surprise and share one more quick concerned look with Yuki before you can’t help but look at Choso with pity.

“When my little brothers incarnated I realized their abnormal bodies meant “humans” would never accept them. That’s why I decided we should live as “curses.” That’s why I killed people in Shibuya, I killed a lot of people. And it wasn’t just people I killed. The one who killed Eso and Kechizu was me.” He shares a guilt-filled thought that had been running through his head ever since Shibuya, and your heart aches for him at the sound of his anguish.

His guilt and concerns have been touched upon since you’ve helped him ease some of them, but it wasn’t enough to completely satisfy him. After all, you know more than most that guilt and insecurity grown from issues like that are far too deeply rooted, it takes time to really get rid of them. All you want now is for him to see what you do…

“If I’d chosen to live as a “human” back then. My brothers wouldn't have had to kill each other,” he continues with his voice beginning to grow shaky. “Why…why then…why did I—Why did I choose the easy way out?” He can’t help but cry.

“Choso,” you whisper with sorrow and pity.

“I didn’t want to see…I didn’t want to see them in pain from living as “humans”.” He adds tearfully. “Even though they weren’t weak. You can guess what happened next. And like some divine punishment, Yuji appeared. Yuji, who is in pain from living as a “human”. I’m sure our fate was for the four of us to fight together. But,” he sniffles. “Just because I wanted an easier life, Yuji was left alone.”

“If you die,” Yuki shares seriously. “He’ll be alone again.”

She put it in a kinder and quieter way, but it’s similar to what you told him too. And you know it won’t help right away, but you hope it eases some of that anguish he feels. After all, she has a way to assure people with her advice. At least you feel it that way.

“You’re kind, Tsukumo,” Choso mutters as he wipes the tears off his cheeks. “But I can’t,” he keeps insisting, tearing at your heart. “I killed a lot of people for no reason. I no longer have the right to live alongside Yuji…or my friend,” he finishes in a whisper and looks at you as he utters those last words.

Your breath gets caught in your throat and you can’t mask your disbelief.

“Choso,” you whisper and he looks away out of shame.

You could bring up your previous argument, and the fact that he said he’d try, but he’s still too tangled in his guilt and his grief, he still doesn’t think he has the right to live, so your argument won’t work this time. No matter how much you want to fight him. So you try a different approach filled with just as much desperation. “Can I give my opinion?”

“Please,” Choso sniffles and follows by wiping away more tears, making you hand him a napkin from the counter.

“Thanks.”

“I think that you chose the easy way out because that’s the only way you thought you could protect your brothers,” you begin to say and just occasionally glance away, but you don’t keep your gaze away for long so he knows you’re being serious.

“You decided to help Yuji and dedicated yourself to him after you barely found him, and after you discovered your father lied on top of that. You stayed here to fight your dad out of revenge. And Choso,” you say sweetly and lean closer to him to take his hand in yours, making his eyes snap to your gentle touch before he glances back at you as you continue just as sweetly and desperately.

“All that makes you human. I mean,” you laugh softly. “You’re here sharing with guilt hanging off each word and tears in your eyes. You’re showing emotion. That makes you human. You’re so beautifully human.”

More tears crawl down his already tear-stained cheeks and he’s left with nothing to say in return. He could give you his gratitude or say how sweet you’re being, but he’s already told you that and he doesn’t want to sound like some broken record and exhaust you, (even if you’d never grow tired of hearing it), so instead he refuses to let your hand go and squeezes back.

You offer him a gentle smile before you surprise him by resting your head on his shoulder and using your other hand to caress his arm.

You’ve never done that before, it catches him off guard, but he immediately feels comforted by it and you, so he sits incredibly still so as to not make you move. He does feel bad though that he killed the atmosphere, neither you nor Yuki talk after. He waits and hopes it’ll change, but the bar stays quiet, so he parts his lips to apologize but suddenly you leave his hand alone as you sit up.

“Come,” you direct at him. “Dance with me.”

You grab him by his wrist and tug him, but he resists. “I'm not good.”

You scoff and wave him off. “I’ll lead, come dance with me at least one song, please.” You bat your lashes and he doesn’t really protest any longer, he lets you pull him to the empty space in front of the stage before you break away and pick, “There is Something on Your Mind by Big Jay McNeely,” from the Jukebox.

“Now,” you add excitedly and grab his hands to put them on your hips, causing him to immediately stiffen. “It’s okay,” you let him know and rest your hands around his neck. “Now we dance.”

You sway to the music and to avoid stepping on you he watches the way you move your feet.

“You’re doing great,” you encourage him and tilt your head to meet his gaze. “Just relax.”

Choso hesitates before he lets himself focus on your face and the pretty smile you hold.

“Besides our previous conversation, have you enjoyed this atmosphere?” You ask him.

“Well,” he says with a sigh. “It’s just the four of us so I can say I do, but it’s different out there.”

You shrug. “Depends where you go. If you want to go somewhere with loud music and dim lights then a club is for you. I got to tell you though I am old now, I cannot party like that anymore.” You laugh and he shakes his head before he retorts.

“You’re not old. Try being 150.”

You chuckle, making his lips twitch to a smile.

“I don’t think I’ll make it that far,” you say. “But you know what? You’re that old so maybe like an old home is for you. You can play tabletop games and…I don’t know…what do old people do? Tell me.”

“We play tabletop games,” he points out nonchalantly.

You try to come up with a defense but he’s beyond right. Actually, you haven’t even finished a match you started at lunch.

“And I proved my point, I’m old,” you counter playfully.

Choso rolls his eyes and shakes his head, while you begin to grin.

“You’re a natural,” you point out and pass a playful pointed look. “You lied. Who taught you to dance? Tengen?”

Choso chuckles softly. “No,” he corrects you. “When Mahito gave me my body I knew things that I never learned or lived through. It’s weird but it helps being caught up and not being so clueless.”

“Ah, so he taught you to dance?” You joke, making him complain.

“Tsk.”

You show off a cheeky smile, and he hides his growing smile by tilting his head down, bringing forth a comfortable silence as he steals time to breathe in the hypnotizing scent of your perfume and appreciate the comfort that he can have you close to keep you protected. While you take your time to press yourself closer to him to embrace him as you continue to dance and take advantage of the fact that you can be close without needing to fight yourself.

It makes you wish for an infinite amount of moments like this one with him, but you knew the reasons why you couldn’t, they flashed in your head like a red alarm light. So you have nothing else left to do but just really memorize this moment and save it for times when you can’t handle what life has to offer you.

“I have a joke for you,” Choso slowly brings up timidly.

You pull back and smile. “Okay, I want to hear it. I do love jokes, you know that.”

Choso swallows thickly and manages to meet your gaze to share the joke he made Itadori tell him so he could tell you.

“Uh, what did the triangle say to the circle?”

You knew this joke, it was kind of a basic one, but you let him believe otherwise so he can tell it.

“Uh,” he grows quieter and hesitant, even more so when he sees the way you look at him with a soft waitful gaze. “You’re pointless.”

A wobbly smile tugs on your lips before you burst out laughing and lean your forehead on his shoulder.

He didn’t think you’d find it amusing, he thought you’d find it a bit lame so he’s been hesitant to share it, and even now he was nervous as he waited for your reaction, but he’s relieved to hear you laugh. He can't help but laugh softly with you. But he mostly just watches you with a proud smile.

“That,” you say between laughs. “Was good. That was very good.” You face him with a smirk. “Where’d you hear it from?”

He releases his stress with a small breath and responds, “I asked Yuji, he struggled but he looked it up on his mobile—phone.”

Your smile grows timid and the fact that he searched for a joke to tell you makes your face grow hot.

“Did you like it?” He makes sure to ask.

“I loved it,” you quickly assure him and realize that the song comes to an end, bringing you both to a stop. “Now should we have another round?”

He puts his hand up and shakes his head eagerly. “No, no, thank you.”

“Let’s do it! I'm dying over here!” Yuki exclaims, making you run over to be at her side now and do what you suggested without Choso this time. But it’s not like it really matters because he does join in your conversations and tries to participate in the games Yuki and you know.

Now there aren't a lot of you, but you do have fun and enjoy each other's company. For that moment you all forget what you’re there to do, you’re just a couple of friends having fun. That fact wraps you up until you’re alone outside trying to get ahold of your daughter before you go to bed since it should be morning over there.

Nevertheless, it goes straight to voicemail every single time, and that’s weird because she never misses a call. And if for some reason she can’t answer, Belinda does, this time neither of them answer.

You try to wait a few minutes because maybe they got caught up doing something, but when the moment passes no call comes through. You just get a single text from Belinda.

Belinda: Sorry the phone isn’t working, I can only text from the tablet. Satori is okay.

You reread the message and wonder why she didn’t let you know before since she called you just fine before they went to bed.

Then again maybe it just happened, so you calm yourself down and respond.

You: Oh, okay. Well, maybe she can send voice messages or videos?

Only a few seconds pass before you get a quick and short response.

Belinda: Yeah I'll tell her, let’s see if she wants to.

Sometimes Satori does march at the beat of her own drum, but you doubt she’d deny trying to talk to you.

Unless she's mad that you’ve been apart for so long? Maybe that’s why she doesn’t want to talk to you…but Belinda would’ve spilled that information if that’s what was going on, all she’s sent is quite dismissive texts.

You: Is she upset? Is that what’s wrong?

You have to ask her out of worry.

But Belinda quickly contradicts you.

Belinda: No, she’s in a good mood. Don’t worry. I’ll tell her to send something later.

You sigh deeply and have no choice but to be okay with it. You can’t do anything from thousands of miles away.

You: All right. Tell her I love her. I’ll call in the morning. I love you guys xoxo

You wait on your phone for a response but all you see is the little ‘seen’ sign. Which…shouldn’t worry you. This dismissive behavior shouldn’t worry you. It’s nothing, you’re just obviously growing anxious. That’s all.

“Y/N?” You hear your name coming from Choso’s mouth, so you peer back and smile as you watch him approach your side.

“Choso,” you greet him as if you didn’t just see each other.

“Did you get a hold of her already?” He asks.

You look back ahead and sigh out of distress. “She couldn't talk. The phone isn’t working, so no.”

You wait for him to sit at your side before you have to voice your concern. “Do you think I’m overthinking this? The phone doesn’t work and all I got was dismissive texts and the excuse that she’ll try and have her send something later. Should I be worried?”

Choso sighs deeply and follows your line of gaze to the beautiful full moon to share his genuine answer. “I’m not a parent, I—”

“But you are a brother,” you cut him off to press him to give you some comfort or feed into your worry. “If Itadori was the way I just explained, would you worry?”

Choso blinks and meets your red-orange eyes filled with worry and tries his best to answer. “Yes. But you trust the woman taking care of your daughter, right?”

You nod with no hesitation.

“Then I think you shouldn't worry,” he says. “Your daughter is probably okay.”

Probably isn’t what you seeked for, but he’s right. You trust Belinda more than anyone in this world, she’d never hide crucial information regarding your daughter. Her phone just doesn't work, that's all…

“I think I’m just stressed,” you laugh nervously and want to rub your face, but you remember you have makeup on

so you just throw yourself back and admire the dancing stars overhead. “Why are you out here?” You finally ask Choso what you were curious about. “I thought you went to bed?”

“I…was, but I wanted to check on you,” he shares hesitantly as if almost afraid that you were going to be upset that he couldn’t seem to leave you alone, but instead you smile and contradict his worry.

“Good I'm glad you did. I really hate being alone,” you reveal as if it isn’t a big deal when it is to you.

Choso can’t depict between touching on it or not as you just mention it so nonchalantly though. You don’t look upset, but you would comfort him, you’d know what’s upsetting him, and he wants to be that way too. He wants to comfort you too, not knowing that his presence is enough to satisfy you.

Albeit before he can attempt to touch on the matter, you sit up and interject. “You never answered my question at the bar, Cho. What do you want out of life? I mean.” You roll your eyes. “Hypothetically if you make it out of the fight. What do you want?”

He avoided answering this question before because there were other people in the room and his response was something meant just for your ears, but he’s here with you now, and the moon. He could tell you his deepest desire and share the realization that he had the other day when you fought for him to live.

You looking at him with your pretty eyes glimmering with the moonlight's reflection makes it hard for him to form words in his mind, but what he needed to tell you was already engraved deep inside his heart and just waiting to be shouted out.

“Do you want,” you break the silence to try and help him. “A farm with sheep? They're quiet. Or a rice farm? A cabin in the woods? Do you want to leave the country with your brothers? Or have a playboy lifestyle?” You wiggle your eyebrows and laugh softly.

A smile tugs on his lips in response, but it slowly falls as he parts his lips and looks at you with a soft and tender look of admiration and…love.

“You,” he blurts, making you slowly fill with confusion. “I want to live a life with my brothers,” he continues and dares himself to scoot closer to you. “I want to see them be happy and live a peaceful life, but every time I dream of that future I see you there too…”

Oh no…

“…you’re precious to me y/n,” he continues, and you can’t hold your smile or reflect that glimmer in your eyes anymore. He doesn’t notice that yet though as he goes on saying such sweet words. “You’ve been special to me since the first time I saw you last year. You’re all I could think about in that darkness. And I still may be clueless about a lot of stuff, but I do know that I want to keep what's precious to me close to my heart. And that’s my brothers and you. And your daughter of course.”

No, no, no…damn it.

He included her too. He doesn’t leave her out. He thinks about the most important person to you too.

But why does he have to say it all?! His confession and his desire?

Why did he have to say this? Why?!

Damn…

“That’s what I desire,” he fails to notice your distress. “You.”

Tears fill your eyes and a pitiful smile appears on your contorting face. “Oh, Choso,” you coo. “You’re so sweet…”

He smiles as he doesn’t see that you’re about to break his heart and add a tension to the comfortable relationship you had.

“But…I’m not the person you think I am,” you try to go easy on him and actually explain your reasoning. “I’m not a good person. I’ve done bad things. Horrible things that are far from redeemable, and you,” your voice quivers. “You’re precious. Your heart is pure and beautiful, even after the things you’ve done.”

Choso didn’t understand you at first, but he’s starting to know now so the soft light in his eyes flickers and the tenderness grows hard as he’s slowly falling in disbelief.

“And I don’t deserve that,” your voice breaks. “And you don’t deserve to share your life with such a monster. You deserve someone pure…good. Like you.”

Choso’s eyebrows pinch together and he wants to counter by sharing his disbelief grown by the way you’re talking about yourself. Partially because you’re rejecting him, but it’s mostly because he doesn’t see you the way you see yourself.

However, you grab his hands and cup them in between yours to continue adding arguments. “Even if I did let my heart have what it wants, what would I do when you sacrifice yourself? Because that’s your plan,” you remind him of something that’s still tearing at your heart. “And I can’t go through that again. I lost the man I loved and it left me empty. I barely recovered, and if I go through it again with you, I don’t think I could pick myself up again. So it’s better this way. Me and you as we are.” You nod even if deep inside you don’t agree with a thing you said.

“But,” Choso mutters as he's grown upset now. Not sad—well he does feel sad that this didn’t go like he wanted, but he’s mostly upset that you’re selfish enough to disregard what he feels about this argument.

“What—”

“No,” you cut him off with a watery but pointed look. “Please don’t. I know what I am,” you say as if you had looked in his mind. “I know what I’ve done. I’m sorry. I really am. I hope we can remain friends because you’re precious to me too, Choso. I don’t want to spend whatever time we have left upset with each other.”

You offer him a wobbly smile and he leans in and says your name loudly and with frustration that catches you off guard. He’s never spoken to you this way before.

Albeit you do muster the strength to interrupt him

once again so this doesn’t escalate and your heart doesn’t end up winning and accepting his proposal. “Choso, don’t. I don’t regret what I did, I’m a bad person, and I don’t want to go through that agony again. it’s gonna be hard enough already, so please, please stop. Please, I beg of you.”

Choso inhales sharply and wants to just ignore you and give an argument to all you just said, but you’re asking so desperately and yet so sweetly. Plus you’re right. If he dies he doesn’t want you to suffer. He loves you. He doesn't want you to be in pain when he’s gone, so even if it pains him he doesn’t argue. He simply nods which makes you feel terrible, but you can’t stay here any longer after his confession, so you offer him a thankful smile before you lean in and press a gentle kiss on his cheek.

You don’t move away right away, you stay with your cheek pressed against as you give your heart this one satisfaction of feeling the warmth of his cheek and memorizing the taste of his flesh on your wet lips. You draw in the scent of his musk infused with a soft cologne to have it dance in your nose to continue bringing you comfort until it’s gone and instead under lock and key in your mind.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper and tilt your head back slightly to keep close to him as your lips ache to taste his lips that shift closer to you as he moves his head to face you. “I really am.”

Choso watched your lips move, and couldn’t help but part his lips as he couldn't focus on anything else.

You try to pull away but you keep your mouth where it is since you can’t tear your eyes away from his lips. You just want to lean in so badly, they’re screaming to be kissed. And what makes matters worse is that you actually let him give into his instinct to lean closer, leaving just a hairsbreadth of space between his lips and yours.

But…

But! You can’t kiss him no matter how much you both desire it, because if you do you'll lose your fight and your argument will be null. Plus, you can’t risk hurting if he dies, so you pull back and just throw him a brief goodnight before you storm to your room and fall on your bed to think about what just happened.

You shouldn’t though, you know that. You need to focus on what’s to come and forget what just occurred to make it easier on you.

Albeit your mind actually fights you now and sides with your heart. But you push, and push Choso away and win back your mind's support and shove away what just happened and the emotions he stirs up back in a vault. Instead, you force all your focus back on Kenjaku and the threat that he is.

You can’t think about Choso anymore. You need to forget what you feel. You can’t give in to your heart's desire. You can’t and you won’t…

——

Kenjaku came unexpectedly a couple of days later as it was expected right at 12 am. It means that the inevitable you’ve been training a week for is about to happen and you’re tempted to say something stupid to Choso as he goes on his way to meet his father. After all, you could lose him forever.

It's true that he's only been in your life for 16 days—it’s felt like it’s been years really, but it’s only been a couple of weeks and a few days, and you could lose him forever after tonight. So you want to just be stupid and confess what you’ve kept guarded in hopes that that will encourage him to fight to live.

But you can’t. Not even now. So all you muster is another excuse in hopes that will encourage him. “Yuji is out there, he needs his brother. So just try.”

Choso comes to a brief stop before you and meets your gaze with soft reassurance. He’s not petty or mad over your rejection—actually, he never showed any sign of being upset at you after that night, you made it awkward most of the time, but he was never rude.

He was kind and nonchalant, like now.

“I will try.”

You nervously hold your hands together and don’t avoid holding his gaze right now. Not like you’ve been doing for the past couple of days, you look deep into his rich brown eyes that look as if they were always touched by the sun, and can't hide the worry from your eyes. Yet you can’t express it.

You part your lips and he stands there. Not to wait, he stands there to let his mind engrave every inch of you to keep an image of you close to his heart just in case he does meet his fate. When he’s sure every aspect of you is recorded he moves on past you.

Now you should go ahead and meet up with Tengen and Yuki while you wait your turn, but you stay frozen to your spot watching the empty space Choso left behind as you try to avoid looking back. Because if you do you’ll only hurt more, it’ll be like giving in to what you feel. And it’s true that you’ll watch him as he confronts his father, Tengen can display that for Yuki and you so you can know what Kenjaku is countering with and plan around that, but it’s not the same. He won’t be in the same room, his presence won’t be in the same room, and you’ll just be stressing out. So you give in and look back.

And without knowing Choso peers back and you meet each other's gaze.

“Be careful,” you interject without overthinking your response.

Choso nods. “I’ll try. And if I don’t make it out of here can you take my brothers with you?” He entrusts in you.

You turn around completely and assure him without a moment of hesitation. “Of course I will.”

Choso lets his eyes linger on you for a moment longer before he turns away and finally disappears to face his father, leaving you stranded there alone riddled with nauseating worry. You only move away from that spot because you need to know what’s going on to not be eaten alive by your nerves, otherwise, you probably would have stayed there waiting for you to go next.

However, perhaps it was a mistake joining the other two because you walk into Yuki changing into her battle clothes that…look the exact same as the normal clothes she was just wearing.

“Is there a difference?” You remark while she quickly slides on her shirt.

“Yes!” She exclaims. “This one has the Jujutsu High medallion here.”

You fold your arms over your chest and quirk a brow as you pass her a judgmental look. “Why would you wear that?”

She finally gets her hands through her sleeves and pierces her big brown eyes in you. “Don’t you?” She queries.

“Pft,” you blow out and laugh. “No, I threw that away the day I defected. And you’ll never catch me wearing it again.”

“Hmph well there is a difference, this is the difference.”

You sigh and turn away from her to look at a blank wall. “Show it,” you demand from Tengen. “Please.”

“Very well,” he gives in. “But nothing is happening as of yet.”

Regardless, a screen appears on the wall and you can’t help but smile softly when Choso comes on looking completely irritated with his father, who actually startles you. Not because he’s menacing but because he is in your husband's body, and for a second in time you forget and think it��s him. Just for a second because you then realize and feel nothing but hatred and disgust.

“Where’s Tengen?” You hear Kenjaku ask while he glances around the arena.

Choso’s lips slowly tug to a smirk before he scoffs and quips. “That talking thumb doesn’t want to see you.”

“Who’s a thumb?” Tengen mutters under their breath very human-like.

“Guess you’re not well-liked,” Choso adds, making your lips flicker on an amused smile before your worry reigns over again.

“Then I suppose you’re disposable fodder,” Kenjaku counters. “Please do try your best.”

There’s a bit of amusement behind those words and it does nothing to assure your worry over Choso’s fate. Kenjaku just plans to play with him.

“He’ll live. He’s half a curse, he’s resilient,” Yuki tries to ease your worries.

You reach back to scratch the chin of the worm-cursed spirit draped around your shoulders and mutter out, “I hope you’re right.”

“The culling game has already served its purpose, the preparations for the merger of all non-sorcerers in Japan have ended.”

No way…you just talked to Hakari and Kirara the other day, they were doing well. Hakari had fought some old sorcerer brought back to life and kind of won. They were both too excited to tell you to explain anything clearly. You do know that Hakari learned to use RCT though! It was because he got gravely injured, but he learned and you couldn’t be prouder!

So they have to be okay. They all have to be okay. You need to believe that right now.

“Either way, if I seize Tengen here, then it’s your loss, the country will meet its end. The whole world will.” Kenjaku shares, for what reason? To throw you all off a bit? Perhaps. Or just to hear his own voice.

“Let me show you one possible conclusion to this affair.”

Oh gosh, now why does he need to waste time doing that? If it’s happening or not, why does it matter at this instant? Does he really love the sound of his voice that much? Why can’t he just fight to get this all over with?

“You’ve known Kenjaku for a long time, right Tengen? Has he always been so self-obsessed?” You break the intense silence while Kenjaku changes the arena he and Choso are in into a theater room.

“Yes,” they take no time to think it back. “Always. It’s why he’s here so many years later.”

You roll your eyes and pull a chair to rest on while you can as you continue to watch over them.

“In Shibuya, Yuki Tsukumo explained that merging with Tengen, which I’d prefer to call optimizing cursed energy, means becoming a sorcerer….”

“Yawn!” Yuki exclaims.

You snicker. “You said it.”

Please! He just keeps yapping about things he’s already mentioned before, just in a more exhausting way. You don’t know how Choso can sit there listening to him just blabber on and on.

However, as you watch him though, you see him look rightfully annoyed and bothered, but you don’t know how he can just listen. You don’t, you just tune Kenjaku out until you finally pick up on something interesting.

“…The way she thinks is close to my own.”

You snicker and Yuki groans in disgust.

“Anyways I’ve gotten off topic,” Kenjaku finally realizes, letting you finally sit up once again to keep listening. “From the beginning, I even considered the potential of cursed spirits as an option alongside sorcerers. Perhaps a new form of cursed energy could be born from advancing cursed spirits to a higher level. Because of that, I had high hopes for half-breeds between cursed spirits and humans like you. What a disappointment, you were all too ordinary,” he says without shame and it ticks you off.

How could he say that as a parent? In front of his own son too?

You know hateful parents like him exist everywhere but it always surprises you to see it firsthand. Especially because Choso is your friend, and you know how feels about how his father treated him and his brothers.

“If you talk about my little brothers again. I’ll kill you without waiting for the sideshow to end,” Choso spats in defense of his brothers, making you smirk proudly.

“Fine, fine,” Kenjaku sighs and sits up to finally get to the point. “After evolving, Tengen will be more like a cursed spirit than human. So if all the non-sorcerers in Japan merge with Tengen, I think it’ll become a cursed spirit bearing the cursed energy of a hundred million people. Maybe it’ll be like Uzumaki and capable of extracting something too,” he says thoughtfully and with a hint of fascination of what can be a possibility.

A possibility that plays out on the screen of the theater room like a terrifying apocalypse film—flashing scenes of people all around Japan getting their bodies mangled shows and terrifying never never-before-seen curses pop up like a jumpscare.

“I wonder what it will look like…” Kenjaku muses and you furrow your eyebrows and look at the screen in slight fear of what can be a possibility, and irritation mostly. You still don’t care about non-sorcerers, your hatred has dwindled, but you still don’t care for them. Yet what he wants will end the world as you know it. You can’t stand behind that, and the fact that he says it all so casually pisses you off.

“Right now, I feel like a kid…holding a crayon in front of a blank piece of paper,” he finishes and the screen goes black as the lights all go off in the theater before the walls and everything around them transform back to the arena with the single tree in it.

“What exactly do you want?” Choso sneers with heightened anger now, but Kenjaku doesn’t see that, or care for it, he looks back at him annoyed.

“Did you not just understand anything I just said?” He spats.

“No,” Choso argues between gritted teeth. “I’m asking you. What do you get from this?! What is it that motivates you?!” He raises his voice.

Kenjaku’s annoyance falls and he looks at Choso almost with a smile on his face.

“I’m fascinated,” he reveals, raising your own irritation to full-blown anger.

“I just think it’ll be fascinating,” Kenjaku continues. “But I won’t know for sure until it happens.”

So this is all a gamble for him?

He’s so sick.

“On top of that, if the accumulated cursed energy of a hundred million people is just a laughable clown face, then what would you do?” He says nonchalantly as if what he’s saying isn’t all messed up. “I know I’d laugh.”

He actually laughs. That bastard laughs like it's all a joke, but that’s what finally triggers Choso to start the fight by clapping his hands together out in front of him with his face completely contorted to raging anger.

“Wait, wait,” Kenjaku interjects and puts his finger out. “Before you do that.” He laughs again. “I have something I want to show you all. I know the others are here too. Somewhere. So I want to show you something.”

Choso doesn’t drop his guard, he keeps his hands out and stays ready to shoot his piercing blood.

“This is mainly a little something for y/n,” Kenjaku says making you stand up from your seat to narrow your glare on the screen.

“Are you ready?” He asks, and Suguru’s four-winged pelican cursed spirit breaks through the barrier and enters the arena, meaning what?

Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest

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