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#but the concept was to good not to write
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how deep is your devotion? ; satoru gojo
synopsis; you’re his knight, and he’s your prince. if only it were that simple.
word count; 6.6k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, royalty au (..but no effort put into making it historically accurate in any way oops), knight!reader x prince!toru!!, childhood friends, mutual pining, fluffy overall, some hurt/comfort too, vague allusions to abuse (reader is punished by one of the castle maids as a child but it’s only really hinted at), knight!reader is horrendously devoted but prince!gojo is arguably worse, he would burn the world down if u asked nicely <3
a/n; big big BIG thank u to @softgirlgonehaywire for having the biggest brain in the world and infecting me w this concept <33 if u pay attention while reading u can tell the exact moment i started slowly spiraling into insanity
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you are five years old when you meet the prince.
five years old, a mere child, and too young to be blinded by such brilliance. too young to be where you are; curled up in a dark alley, back against a grimy brick wall, covered in bruises. like a beaten dog — scrawny and afraid. waiting for a strike that never comes.
the boy in front of you is also five years old, but you don’t know that. something in him looks older, somehow, something in the way he carries himself. like he doesn’t have anything to be afraid of. like he’s never even felt fear. he parts his lips and speaks like he has the right to, like he’s comfortable in his own skin, a radiance so blinding you could mistake him for the sun. too much for you to bear.
”does it hurt?”
the words fall on deaf ears. but you flinch, your body reacts, a tremble down your tiny spine. you hear the sound but not the words. too mesmerized, too paralyzed, unable to look away from the blue of his eyes, painted with rich watercolour hues. seeping into the world around you like ink on paper, cobalt and aquamarine and something else, something you’ve never seen before —
a blue so jarring it makes you shiver.
the boy has an innocent face. almost girlish, plump cheeks and long lashes, clean clothes and smooth skin. a little too pretty to be out here, you think, in this part of town — too pure to be anywhere near someone like you. he’s above you, that much you can tell. a pretty, innocent face, untouched by dirt or ache; the face of royalty. an entirely different species.
there’s something keen in his eyes, a contrast to his childlike features. a sharp gaze, something that sees through you, something that won’t look away. something mildly frightening. enough to have you cowering in fear, hugging your knees closer to your chest.
but then he smiles. and it’s sincere. sweet, vibrant, all honey and milk and a world you cannot reach.
a smile so captivating you take his outstretched hand, and let him drag you away to god-knows-where.
(that's how it begins. the dynamic that’ll follow you into your adult lives; satoru takes the lead, and you follow. no matter where he’s going.)
satoru gojo, as you soon come to learn, is the prince of the nation you reside in. the only child of the royal family, born with talent and prestige, fame and fortune, set to become king. a different species, indeed.
but he brings you home with him, to a castle so grand you feel as if your very presence is an insult to the architects who designed it, and convinces his parents to let you stay. it’s surprising, but you don’t protest; following him like a puppy at his trail. and he’s stubborn, insistent, demanding that he get to keep said puppy. 
the king and queen don’t care one way or another. they glance at you with apathy, and tell satoru to do what he wants — but convincing the scary and displeased castle maids takes some work. 
satoru doesn’t waver, though. he holds your hand in his, and demands that you be treated with respect.
and he wins. he always wins.
that’s how you become the prince’s playmate. raised alongside him, allowed to stay close, eat from the same food. he won’t settle for anything less. defending your honour, always, before you even know what honour means. before you care.
time passes slowly. joyously. every day is a new adventure, as you attempt to get used to the miracle that is your new life — sweet and silky, apricot blossoms and fresh peaches, duvet pillows and a bubbly laughter you didn’t know you still had. he coaxes it out of you, with every secret midnight outing, every bout of mischief he drags you both into. 
satoru has nice hands, uncalloused palms, fingers that grasp yours and don’t let go. he takes you outside, to see the stars, to catch fireflies in the dark of night on top of the hill that oversees the castle. to take a dip in the river just below it, gleaming a silver hue under the blue shade of the moon. you worry about getting in trouble, but he reassures you — the prince can do what he wants.
that might be true, but you are no prince. not even close. satoru may safeguard you, but all you’ll ever be in the eyes of the world is a stray he got to keep.
and one time, only one time, you do face the repercussions of your midnight outings. you, and you alone. a bad influence — seething words, buzzing in your ears. an angry castle maid, and a stinging pain in your cheek. blurry tears. 
but that’s an incident no one in the castle dares to speak of.
(you’ll never forget that look in his eyes.)
satoru is an odd boy. he keeps you close, always, clinging to you like he needs you to breathe. you don’t understand why, but you’ve learned not to question him. the castle guards all know you as the prince’s best friend, and some part of you knows that’s all you’ll ever amount to. but you don’t mind.
because you love him. at five years old, six years old, seven and beyond, you love him. satoru gojo, the kindest boy in the stratosphere. 
a boy who keeps finding you, no matter where you are, who tugs you along as naturally as the rise of the sun. who raids kitchen cabinets with you and always makes you laugh, little giggles and chuckles that have him beaming proudly. a boy who cleans your wounds with a serious expression, and tells you that he’ll protect you forever. 
(you tell yourself the same. that you’ll protect him forever and ever, until you run out of air to breathe. a boy so sweet you’d die for him.)
a pledge is made. you make it before you know what a pledge is. pledging to protect him, to become his sword, because even as a child you understand that his life will be difficult. you see it in the dullness that sometimes comes over his eyes, the apathy of his so-called parents, the hours he spends locked up with nothing but a pile of dusty books to keep him company. 
so you decide to become his knight. his, and his alone. 
it’s challenging. but you push through; training with another aspiring knight, miles better than you, black hair tousled by the breeze as he knocks you off your feet for the thirtieth consecutive time. wincing as the girl who sometimes watches your sparring patches you up, soft hands cleaning your wounds so tenderly that you almost choke up.
and eventually, as the apricot blossoms of the castle orchard wilt and bloom over and over in a flurry of pure white, your dream comes true. 
there’s something playful in satoru’s eyes, when he places his blade on the curve of your shoulder. something sweet and fond, and just a little bit ironic — as if you’re still seven years old, and playing house. 
you want to tell him that it isn’t a joke. that you’re serious, about this, that you’d tear your stomach open to keep him safe. but you know he’d just laugh. so you let the words clog up your throat, honey-sweet devotion sticking to the walls of your esophagus. breathing in through your nose, as he speaks. as the words you’ve waited to hear flow from his glossy lips.
when all is said and done, satoru smiles. he calls you his little knight, and you can tell that he’s teasing you. indulging you, as if he’s in on some joke that you aren’t. but you’ll take what you can get.
you call him my prince, expecting him to laugh it off, but his smile begins to fall. and a pang of ache rushes through your soul, instantaneous, guilty, although you don’t understand why.
so you keep calling him satoru. even though it’s more than a little unprofessional, and you become painfully accustomed to receiving a few judgemental looks here and there. a knight and a prince shouldn’t be so very close, they think, and you don’t disagree. but there’s nothing they can do about it, anyhow.
the prince and his knight can do what they want.
not much changes. you’re his knight, but he treats you the same as before. he’s playful, a little goofy, and you indulge him. as always. attached at the hip, bickering and bantering, bouncing off each other effortlessly. and satoru never bothers to hide your history, the soft spot he has for you; it’s in every fleeting glance, soft tilt of his head, teasing call of ah, there’s my favorite knight. 
(you’re no stranger to jealous looks. sometimes a pout on the lips of a pretty girl, a crease between the brows of one of your fellow knights. and sometimes a glare, from his fiancée — a woman he was engaged to before he was old enough to speak.
but you don’t mind. you’ve never cared what anyone but satoru thinks of you.)
satoru never loses his smile, that effortless air of confidence. the charm that makes people want to follow him, a charisma you know well. one you fell victim to at five years of age. he’s still just a prince, far from being a king, but he receives the same respect.
and that keen, sharp glimmer in his eyes never quite goes away; the hardened shell around his heart unbroken. you see it in fleeting glances, during meetings, ones he allows you to attend despite your status. when he speaks to a room of people with more power than you can imagine, his voice unwavering. back straight. elegant, serious, the presence of royalty — enough to receive respect without even trying. 
but he still shoots you a smile, easygoing, when your eyes meet. one only you can see.
as for you, the step into knighthood is a clumsy one. but you take your duties seriously, and adjust properly. a deep devotion runs through your veins, from your beating heart down to the tips of your fingers, where a sword lies clutched. you keep it close, always, ready to serve. to obey. to protect. 
all of it for one person.
all you do is for him. duels in his honour, beasts slain for his peace of mind, and he’s always there to welcome you back. wiping the blood from your cheek, tenderly, smearing his untainted skin with red; all while he looks at you softly, a coo or word of praise waltzing on the tip of his tongue. 
that’s only for when you remain unscathed, though, when the blood on your cheek isn’t your own. when you get hurt, it’s different — something begins to brew inside his eyes, and you can’t tell what it is. but he insists on bandaging you himself, paying no mind to your meek protests.
sometimes, you’re more reckless than usual. your injuries worse. sometimes he looks upset, angry with you, and doesn’t speak. you don’t, either.
a strange look comes over his eyes, every now and then. when you get down on one knee, to kiss his hand, the metal of the ring on his finger — and if you look up, you’ll see it. simmering inside those blue depths, something just as fond as it is sad. troubled, you think.
(something tells you he’d kneel, too, if only you’d let him.)
the bond between you remains intact. even as you begin to shoulder more responsibilities, more duties, even though you don’t have as much freedom as you used to. even though you seem to get less time to spend with each other every single day. but you stay together, even so; just like when you were children, running around and causing trouble, more than you could get away with now. 
despite everything, satoru has grown up into a fine man. and you couldn't be prouder.
“do you think i look good in black? be honest.”
you throw him a glance. curious, somewhat perplexed, eyeing him up and down.
satoru is wearing a white blouse, puffy sleeves and a low neckline, showing off the skin of his bare chest. no black colours to be seen. you think back to that banquet he attended last month, forced into an expensively tailored black coat. a corset around his waist. and then you hum.
“sure you do.”
”suguru said it makes me look like a try-hard,” he scoffs, crossing his arms. tilting his head in your direction. ”do you think he’s jealous?”
”definitely.”
a moment passes. 
satoru narrow his eyes, and gives you a dubious look. clicking his tongue. ”… something tells me you aren’t taking this seriously.”
”i am,” you assure him, a lazy smile at your lips. meeting his gaze, that displeased little pout. still smoothing a brush down the mane of your horse, the smell of hay soothing your muddled senses. ”just tired. you look good in anything. you know that.”
he hums. silent, the sound of a spring breeze filling in the gaps.
it’s late. outside the stables, the world is engulfed by a dark sky, almost too murky to see anything. hazy stars glimmer in the distance, and a sense of fatigue gnaws at your bones. it’s been a long day, and yet you’re here — doing even more work. just a little more.
and satoru’s right there with you. even though he’s just sitting there, on the floor, not lifting a finger to help. not that he has to. insistent on spending some quality time with you, keeping you company. just talking and munching on the food he snuck in, bread and cheese and an expensive bottle of wine, that he leaves completely untouched. he tries to leave some of everything else for you, though. keyword being tries.
a sense of peace simmers in the air. palpable, almost enough to taste, as midnight air streams in from the opened doors, chilly and pleasant on your skin. ruffling the thin fabric of your clothing.
and it’s nice, you think, just to have satoru there — talking about this and that, complaining about all the annoying people he had to meet yesterday, yawning every now and then. nostalgic. like this, it almost feels like you're still kids. back when you spent every single hour of the day by each other’s side.
it’s been a long time since you got the chance to speak like this. satoru’s been busy, and so have you. more so than usual.
”are they running you ragged?” he suddenly asks, and you don’t realize you’ve spent the last minute staring into space. resuming your brushing, with steady hands, but turning your head to meet his gaze.
”need me to…” he makes a slicing motion with his hand, right over his throat. a glint of mischief in his eyes. ”handle it?”
and you scoff. amused, but answering him seriously; unsure if his question is all-together humorous, if it doesn’t carry a hint of something genuine too. ”of course not.”
there’s a weariness in the way you blink. the way you pet the animal in front of you, having finished getting the dirt and blood clots out of her mane. she lays down in her stall, and you smile. turning around to rest your back against the wooden border between you, a respite for your aching bones.
it gets just a little bit tiring, sometimes. fighting, patrolling, helping townsfolk. protecting the castle, making sure everything is in order. killing whatever needs to be killed. cleaning the stained silver of your sword.
but…
”it’s my duty,” you answer, seriously, and it comes out sounding like a vow. because it is. 
you avoid his gaze, but you can feel it, as you pick up the wine bottle by your feet and pop the cork. soft moonlight flits in from the windows, illuminating the green glass. a chartreuse glow that reminds you of fireflies, shimmering in your grasp, and for some reason it soothes your heart.
satoru only hums, far from approving. popping a piece of cheese into his mouth. 
after a brief pause, he continues. ”you don’t have to be so serious all the time, you know.” his voice comes out a little raspy. it’s got a certain tilt to it, one that means he wants you to take him seriously. ”not around me.”
you take a sip of the wine. expensive, blood red. it’s too sweet for your taste, heavy on your tongue.
”… i’m less serious with you than i am with others.”
satoru sits up a little straighter.
”yeah?” he grins, a kind of satisfaction blooming in his eyes. cerulean and sweet. almost smug, you think, like the cat that got the cream. ”that’s good. you really should loosen up, though.”
a glance. fleeting, just to see him — but he isn’t looking at you. he’s looking outside, through the opened window, at the sway of the apricot trees. white petals flitting in, landing by his feet. in his hair.
when his eyes meet yours, they’re smoothed over by that something you can never put your finger on. a blend between longing and fondness. crinkled at the edges.
”you’ve got a pretty smile,” he exhales. ”be a shame not to show it off.”
when you look at him, really look at him, you see it. that fatigue. it slips out when he talks to you, a sincere way of speaking that never quite allows him to hide his emotions. you hear the hint of a yawn, can practically feel the weight on his shoulders. the weight of an entire nation. a weight he was always bound to carry.
(you could never bring yourself to be even remotely alright with it.)
“have you been doing okay?” you ask, and satoru blinks. there’s a soft look in your eyes, as they trail over the contours of his face, his lashes catching the light of the stars. an innocent, pretty face. but he looks tired. frail. like he hasn’t been sleeping properly.
something rotten bubbles up inside your throat.
”they’re running you ragged, too,” you say, hand settling on your hip. where your sword usually is. unconsciously, on instinct — or maybe just to make him laugh. ”need me to step in?”
satoru chuckles. husky, mellow. dripping with soft amusement.
”settle down, little knight.”
a moment passes. silent. his eyes flutter shut, for a second, and a breath slips from his lips. almost a sigh. in the distance, you hear the quiet coo of an owl. 
”of course,” he eventually answers, opening his eyes. and you think he looks a little resigned. but smiling. self-deprecating, you think, although he’d like you to assume otherwise. ”all of it is just preparation, anyhow.” 
a flimsy smile, as he looks into your knowing eyes. ”it’s what i was born for, wasn’t it?”
you purse your lips.
“… i don’t think so.”
another chuckle. a little delighted, this time. 
“yeah,” he cranes his neck, emitting a low groan. “me neither.” something sweet blossoms in his eyes, sweet like the crunch of the apple he bites into, juice dribbling down his chin. ”but it is what it is.”
a beat. you part your lips, trying to find the right words. ”tell me if there's anything i can do,” you settle on. the same words you always choose. ”anything at all.”
satoru smiles. “right.” his voice carries a teasing tilt; almost a purr. ”there’s nothing you wouldn't do for me, hm?” 
“— there isn’t.” you smile. “nothing at all.”
he blinks. a little dazed, for a second, and you watch as his ears redden. slight, enough for you to notice, but gone before you can bring it up. a contemplation smooths over his features. and a pleasant breeze flits in, ruffling his hair, apricot petals kissing up his skin. he looks at the apple in his hands.
then he sighs. placing his palms on his knees, and rising to his feet. his arms twitch, muscular beneath the flimsy blouse, and you gulp. although you aren’t sure why.
“alright, then.” his eyes flicker in the dim light, sharp and decisive. he crosses over to you with long strides. “there is something you can do.”
when he’s close enough, satoru reaches out his hand; opening his palm. a silent beckoning. you look at him, not saying a word. his expression is unreadable. 
then you intertwine your fingers with his. unquestioningly, even in the midst of your confusion.
(it reminds you of that day. when he pulled you up to your feet, held your hand in his and refused to let go. leading you to the promise of something better.)
no matter where he goes, you follow.
and satoru grins. it’s sweet, just like back then, a smile so vibrant you wish you could tuck it into your sleeve and keep it there forever. he curls his fingers around yours, gentle, fondness bubbling up inside his eyes. for a second, you think you see the sun.
“come with me.”
at first, you truly aren’t sure where he’s going to take you. hand in hand, you begin to walk, feeling the midnight breeze nip at your skin. beyond the castle walls, away from the hustle and bustle of the nearby town. satoru holds your hand and smiles, tousled tufts of white hair swaying with the wind, leading you to a place you know well. a place where the air tastes like freedom.
it’s the river you used to play by as children.
gleaming a solemn silver under the evanescent moon, framed by bushes of lilacs, blooming indigo and violet and pure white. butterflies flutter about, almost glittering, blue wings settling down on the leaves. the scent of nectar hangs heavy in the air. on top of the hill just above you, you think you can spot tiny little glowing dots; green and yellow, buzzing around. dancing merrily, now that there aren’t any troublemaker children left to trap them.
satoru lets go of your hand, to roll up his sleeves. the hems of his pants. then he’s taking a step forward, dangerously close to the edge of the river, and you can tell what he’s thinking.
“ah — wait —“ you stumble forward, to grab hold of his arm. a worried crease forms between your brows. “that's dangerous, satoru. you could slip and fall.”
he turns to face you, a teasing mirth in his eyes. smirking lightly. “oh? is that so?” he hums, a slight tilt of his head. then he’s stepping closer, so close you feel his warm breath on your skin, but you will yourself not to step back. “wanna know what i think?”
he leans forward, just a little further, warm air brushing against the shell of your ear. flushing beneath it. his voice comes out low, a sleepy lilt, dangerously raspy. hand ghosting over your waist.
”i think you’re too scared to get in.”
you blink.
”… really?” you deadpan, stepping back a tad. satoru looks pleased with himself. awfully amused.
“really,” he purrs. “you were always like that. could barely dip your toes in without shivering.” he reaches out to pinch your cheek, a coo on the tip of his tongue. ”scaredy-cat.”
you raise your brow. unimpressed.
satoru steps back. inching closer to the river, until a quiet splash tells you that he’s standing in the water. lapping up his bare legs, not enough to even reach his knees — it felt a lot scarier when you were smaller. he’s still holding your hand, very loosely, fingertips ghosting your own. 
“c’mon,” he coaxes. soft, encouraging, a playful glimmer in his eyes. teeth catching the light of the moon. “or is it too much for my brave knight to handle?”
satoru laughs, when you furrow your brows, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks. a warmth spreads through your chest at the term of endearment, and you bite your lip. melting a little. 
his knight. his favourite knight.
“.. fine,” you tangle your fingers in his own. sighing deeply, taking a tentative step forward. “just be careful, okay? i don't want to deal with your whining if you hit your head.”
“ah, but you’d kiss it better, no? if i asked?” he flashes you a honeyed grin, eyes rich with amusement. you hope the darkness of the night is enough to hide the red of your ears.
a grumble buzzes in your throat, locked behind your pursed lips. something in your jaw goes tight.
the man in front of you softens. parting his glossy lips. he says your name; slowly, thoughtfully, as if savouring every syllable. dragging them out, speaking with a lilt that tells you he’s being sincere.
“— loosen up. it’s just you and me.”
so you do.
and it’s odd. how easy it is to get lost in him, the watercolour of his eyes, the brightness of his grin. how pliantly you let him whisk you away. before you know it, you’re playing in the water — because satoru splashed you, laughing at the shock on your face and the shiver of your spine, and you had no choice but to retaliate. 
the sound of his laughter fills the air, sweet and bubbly. deep and giddy. strands of hair stick to his wet skin, droplets running down his neck, but his grin never falters. bright and toothy, boyish. he looks younger than you ever remember him being. like there’s no weight on his shoulders, none at all, only soaked fabric weighing him down. a flimsy, see-through blouse.
you think it’s ridiculous. two grown adults, splashing each other like children. but his melodic giggles are contagious, and before you know it, you’re laughing too — and satoru looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. through dewy eyelashes, with cerulean eyes that melt into the pale blue of the moon and the silver of the river. filled with wonder.
a particularly ruthless splash knocks him off balance, and he has the instinct to reach for your arm; stumbling, slipping, dragging you down with him. you land on his chest, cheek against his neck, his pulse against your skin. erratic, joyous. fluttering happily.
his chest is heaving. lifting you up and down, a little, rhythmic and comforting. 
a sudden yelp slips past your lips, as you get snapped back into reality, into the realization that you basically just pushed your own prince into a river and used his unfairly soft chest as a cushion. a mumbled string of apologies escapes you, as you attempt to get up, scrambling to find footing.
but satoru wraps his arms around you. tucking you under his chin, keeping you flush against his chest. nice and still. 
and then he sighs. a blissful little breath, fatigue seeping out of him. into the air. 
“stay like this, for a bit,” he rasps. ”it’s okay.”
his heartbeat resounds in your ear. warm and rapid, like claps of thunder, coaxing you into closing your eyes. satoru has always felt so very safe. the water of the river is cold, seeping through the fabric of your clothing and sticking to your skin, but…
(he’s warm.)
silence. and then, a whisper; frail, slipping past his lips, gently slicing the silence in half. softer than you've ever heard him speak.
“i missed this.”
nuzzling into his neck, you breathe him in. he smells like sandalwood and dried roses, buzzing with warmth, heavy arms around your waist. solid. when did he get so big? you used to be taller. 
then again — that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?
“… me too.”
“missed you,” he continues, his jaw on top of your head. it’s a sincere confession; childlike in its innocence. “missed hearing you laugh like that. feels like it’s been so long.” 
you stay silent. unsure of what to say. satoru continues, and you let his husky voice carry you away, the tremor of his chest running through your entire body. soothing like a lullaby. 
”we haven't had much time together, lately. i’ve been worried,” he admits, and something about it strikes you as rather sheepish. a little ashamed. ”it bothers me that i can't be there to watch over you. make sure you're treated with respect, you know.”
a sleepy chuckle. muffled into his shoulder, almost a scoff — slightly exasperated. little droplets cling to his skin, sticking to your lips.
”relax, your majesty,” you tease. ”i promise the other knights aren’t bullying me.” 
satoru pouts. you can hear it, when he speaks. ”i’m serious,” he huffs, squeezing you lightly. ”and it’s not them i’m worried about. suguru’s there.”
another scoff threatens to escape your throat. you want to tell him the only knight that should be suspected of bullying you is suguru himself, but before you can even think to part your lips satoru’s beaten you to it.
”they all treat you so carelessly.” there’s something cold to his voice, an irritation tugging at his teeth. oddly seething. ”like you exist to serve them. like you’re disposable.” 
a moment passes, heavy with a silence so thick you don’t dare break it. when he speaks again, it’s an order. a demand. 
”i want you to tell me if they go too far.”
silence. again. you can do nothing but gnaw at the flesh of your bottom lip. 
(he isn’t wrong. but that’s simply what it means to be a knight — half-human, half-weapon. an unattainable ideal, stuffed inside a suit of armor.
when a weapon breaks under the force of a slash, the only choice is to throw it away. that much you know.)
”it’s fine. i’m not that fragile,” you weakly protest, but it’s not enough. satoru huffs.
”you’re a human being,” he reminds you. strangely stern, for once. chastising. ”you deserve to be treated with respect. knight or not. fragile or not.”
a deep inhale. he breathes in, and the rise of his chest carries you with it. his voice buzzes with something, a slumbering kind of fury. one you haven’t heard in years. 
“if anyone gives you trouble — if anyone hurts you… if anyone makes you feel unsafe,” he almost spits the words, like they’re venomous, sacrilegious. ”tell me. i’ll destroy them.”
silence. and then, a chuckle.
that’s all you can manage; that one meek little breath. resisting the urge to cower, at the love that clings to every word he speaks. angered affection. a promise, dangerously genuine, like a growing wildfire.
”i can take care of myself, satoru,” you remind him. hoping it’ll soothe him. ”you know that.”
but his grip around you only tightens. gentle, even still. as if you’re made of glass, a firefly cupped in his palms. he lets the silence linger, for a moment.
and then; 
“i’d do it, you know.”
a questioning hum. “do what?” you ask, though some part of you already knows. 
satoru’s reply is instantaneous. an arrow hitting its target, cold and concise, decisive. frighteningly honest. almost a growl, flattened, a hint of teeth behind his soft lips. ”destroy them. anyone.”
”i’d tear this nation apart if you asked me to.”
(ah. that look in his eyes — one you remember well. strung together with blurred memories, the sting of a palm on your cheek, a castle maid you never saw again.)
you search for the words. biting back a gulp, hesitant. “… i wouldn’t.”
“i know.” satoru yawns, breathing you in, voice shifting back into the softness you’re so used to. your shoulders relax. “but i would. if that’s what you wanted.”
and it’s a little scary, the depths of his devotion. but you’re almost certain you’d do the same for him. maybe you're both a little sick in the head, a little too eager to serve your hearts on a silver platter.
“it bothers me, you know.” satoru breaks you out of your thoughts. gentle, a soft lull of his tongue. ”when you get hurt. when you fight for me.”
“i know,” you murmur. you’ve seen it in his eyes, a worry he’s not as good at hiding as he thinks. ”i want to, though.”
“and i want you to be safe.” a chuckle bubbles up in his throat, just a little bit rueful. “you never listen, do you? so stubborn, i swear. always worrying me.”
you bite down on your lip. he sounds… a little sad.
“… sorry.”
a moment’s pause. then he shakes his head; cradling you close. “it’s fine. i’m here. always,” his palm runs down the small of your back. ”in case anything happens.”
he inhales. ”and when i become king —” a beat. he swallows thickly. ”you’ll never have to worry again. no one will be able to touch you.”
”satoru,” you crack a small smile. amused. raising a single eyebrow. ”i’m not worried. i can protect myself.”
”i know. but i’m saying you don’t have to.”
and then he’s pulling back. just a little bit, just enough to see you. cheek smushed against his chest, comfortable and soft, more unguarded than he’s seen you these past few months. it’s enough to get his heart racing.
enough to have him reaching out, fingertips ghosting over your hand, tangling your fingers together. bringing it to his glossy lips. a chaste kiss, brimming with unspoken murmurs of love.
”— i’ll protect you forever,” he vows. ”remember?”
there’s devotion in his eyes. heavy, a vow he’ll never quite be able to voice in full. something that makes the blue of his eyes glow even brighter, cerulean, aquamarine, a blue so jarring it makes your heart beat faster than it should.
you blink. starstruck, caught in a daze, lost within that sea of blue. distracted by his warm breath on your cold skin, the soft whisper voiced against your knuckle. something shy blossoms in your chest, enough to have you averting your gaze. 
“... you really don’t care about the dynamic here, do you?” is all you can reply. a meek scoff, a weak attempt at hiding how flustered you are. “i’m the knight. i’m your protector.”
“oh, i know.” a smile sticks to his lips, playful, the back of his hand caressing your cheek. a coo on his tongue. “my little hero. what would i ever do without you?”
a roll of your eyes. satoru chuckles. in the distance, you hear crickets chirping, a breeze rustling the lilac bushes all around you. he’s still cradling your cheek, smoothing over your wet skin, brushing a drop of water away with his thumb. clinging to your bottom eyelash.
“i don't get it, though.”
you blink. when you meet his eyes, satoru looks a little perplexed. muttering under his breath, absently rubbing circles over your cheekbone. you resist the urge to close your eyes again, biting back a blissful sigh.
”a prince shouldn’t care for his knight…” he repeats, like he’s heard the string of words a million times before. ”the idea of that. i don’t understand it. never have.”
the smile that blossoms on his lips is soft, indescribably so, as if he’s looking at the most precious thing in his life. rich and warm, like wine in your veins, nectar on your tongue, a chest pressed against your own. dripping with fondness.
satoru tilts his head, as if in confusion — but he’s smiling. “what’s so strange about wanting to protect the one dearest to my heart?” 
his hand slips from your skin, a warmth leaving your cheek. only to search for your hand, again, cradling it in his larger palm. placing it right over his chest, against the soaked material of his blouse. ”feel that?”
you do. a rhythmic rise and fall, a soft flutter from the depths of his ribcage. as if it’s itching to break out, out of the cage that binds it, the hardened shell around it. a heart too big for his body.
”it’s you,” satoru whispers. ”all for you.”
a moment passes.
silently, you lean forward; tucking yourself into his neck. into that comforting warmth, wet skin beginning to dry, the steady thrum of his heart right by your ear. you listen. not saying a word, afraid of what might leave the confines of your strangled throat. it feels as if your heart has begun to crawl upwards, sweet honey blocking your airways, and all you can do it feel it pulse. 
all while satoru gazes at you, fondly. placing a big palm on the back of your head.
fireflies dance in the distance. butterflies flutter about. strings of lilacs bloom under the glow of the moon. and satoru’s heartbeat never changes, never falls out of tune, a sound you would recognize even if the sky were to shatter, if the world were to end. the sound that saved you, the boy who dragged you out of hell. into his light. 
satoru gojo is everything. he’s the beat of your heart, the silver of your sword, the reason you believe in goodness. he’s your prince, your favorite person, and you’ll protect him until your very last breath. until the world runs out of oxygen.
a boy so sweet you’d die for him.
(a boy so sweet he wouldn’t want you to.)
a shiver runs down his spine — sudden, a shudder of his bones, and a quiet little sniffle. you feel it, hear it, and don’t attempt to bite back the fond smile that slips into the curve of your lips.
”c’mon,” you beckon, almost a coo, placing your palms on his chest to hoist yourself up. ”let’s go home.”
but satoru shakes his head. and then he traps you again, strong arms around your waist, pressing you against him. you could escape — you’re almost certain you’re stronger — but you don’t quite have the heart to. ”it’s fine,” he huffs. almost a whine. ”stay.”
”you’ll get sick.”
”i never get sick.”
a deep exhale. tumbling from your lips, just a little bit humorous. mostly exasperated. ”that can change,” you mumble, fingertips dancing along his exposed skin. absentmindedly.
a smile. one you can’t see, but you hear it clear as day. he sounds content, like he’s got everything he needs right in front of him. ”some things never change,” he informs you. pleased. ”just look at us.”
and he’s right. so you don’t say anything else. 
but your heartbeat quickens, only for a beat or two, and you’re almost certain he feels it. if he does, he opts not to tease you for once, and you’re grateful. and so the silence lingers. as if time has begun to freeze, into an eternal dusk, a string of silent seconds. broken only by low melodic chirping from the faraway fields, his soft breaths in your ear. 
until satoru suddenly chuckles.
“hey,” he hums, shifting a little, the river swaying around you. pulling back to meet your gaze, eyes crinkled and voice raspy. “wanna know a secret?”
you raise your head. a dubious look on your face, one that has him breathing out an amused puff of air, like you’re getting ready to hear a bad joke. “... what is it?”
before the words have fully left your throat, he’s resting his forehead against yours — breath fanning over your lips. a pleasant shiver trails down your spine, at the close proximity, goosebumps spreading across your chilled skin. only exacerbated by the whisper that follows, so quiet you almost don’t know if you heard him correctly. childlike in its sincerity. a sunlaced smile woven in between the vowels.
“i think i was born to meet you.”
(a sentiment so sweet you barely even feel the warmth of his lips meeting yours.)
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teddybeartoji · 2 months
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彡 A THUNDERING FIRST
☆. contains: suguru geto x gn!reader; meet-cute, fluff, trigger warning for a sweaty suguru, double warning for a very flirty suguru!! mentions of teeth and biting bc yk i love that shit wc: 4k
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reading in the park can be such a good way to spend the day – you get to hear the lovely little birds sing to each other, you can see the kids faceplant onto the ground and laugh it off, you can smile at passing dogs, you can feel the sun and you can feel the wind and for just a while – everything is good.
it's more windy today than it is sunny but that doesn't bother you too much. the gentle spring wind dances in the trees, swaying the tiny green leaves that are just beginning to grow. the ground is still wet from yesterday's rain but it's not too muddy. you're grateful for the shower anyway, excited for the fresh grass to rise from the soil, pretty flowers alongside it. everything smells good, too. the air is crisp and filled with new beginnings and laughter and now you feel yourself getting a little too poetic.
looking down at your book, you twirl your pen between your fingers as you try to bring your focus back to the words on the pages. okay, reading in the park can be a little distracting sometimes. but most of the time it's not that bad—
you raise your head from your lap when you hear the steady steps and it's weird because you've learned to not give your attention to every passerby.
but this isn't just some passerby. the soles of his feet dig into the ground as he approaches and something about him just pulls you to him. you only have a second to look at him before he passes but it's enough to peak your interest like nothing else.
a pair of dark grey shorts with some black underpants underneath them, a pair of surprisingly clean sneakers on his feet, a pair of black socks, a dark blue almost skin-tight jacket and a black cap are what pull on your ropes but the messy black bun that peeks from under the cap, the various piercings and the dark purple eyes are what tie the knot.
his phone is in a little make-shift bag that surrounds his very big and glorious bicep and he has earphones on. you've never been this observant with a stranger before.
right when he passes by you, his eyes flick down to yours for a fraction of a second and then he's already gone. steady pace and steady steps as he heads down the path in the park, leaving you longing behind him.
you shake your head and once again, try to focus back on your reading. but it's even harder now that you know a man like that is just jogging around the place. you eye him from a distance away, wiping his sweat as he passes another runner. you've never seen anyone run as gracefully as he does. you force your eyes from him and glue them to the pages that lay neglected in your lap.
around eleven minutes later, you hear him again. you just know it's him by the sound of his steps, by the sound of his shoes hitting the ground – you look up and find him already looking at you as he closes in on you. there's a slight flush to his face, beads of sweat rolling from his temple and he looks gorgeous. he gives you a small smile, a really fucking charming one, and jogs on, leaving you staring at him again.
he does glance back at you, though. when he's a minute away and just when the path turns back around, his eyes search for you over the field of trees. his lips pull into a smirk when your head raises toward him and you drop it the second your eyes meet from far away. cute.
another ten minutes have passed and you've reread the same page four times now. the thought of quitting on the book is heavy on your mind as you consider just focusing on the man instead. it feels silly – stealing glances at a random crush at a park but you can't help it. he has wooed you with just about nothing; you don't know nothing about him other than the facts that 1. he's ridiculously good-looking and 2. he's a really fucking good runner. the lap he seems to be doing is one of the biggest ones in the park and yet he seems to be completing it in record time. maybe it's those long legs of his?
you twist and twirl the pen again until it slips from you, rolling onto the ground. you curse under your breath and then you hear him again. scrambling from your spot, you hastily grab the pen – a little afraid to be in his way; scared to embarrass yourself in front of him.
he's a bit more flushed this time around, sweatier and sexier. he exudes confidence; like not the type to be an annoying fuck-boy but more of a dangerous one. the type to break your heart like it's nothing but a glass toy. but then he gives you another smile and the thoughts fades. his smile is soft and his eyes crinkle as he does so. he nods his head at you and you do it back – you reckon you're really getting somewhere here. is this flirting works?
you watch him run off and almost die when he glances over his shoulder to get another look at you. a blink and you would've missed it – a wolfish grin; wide and sharp, it merely flashes at you but when you squint your eyes to observe him closer, he's already too far again.
your heart is beating way too fast for a person that's literally sitting down and your hands feel clammy. damn. luckily, you have the wind to help you cool down as you try to think of a plan to get his attention. you'd offer him water but that's a bit too far from a complete stranger. you'd ask him— what would you ask him? how's the run? no, that's bad. how's the weather? horrible. what kind of music are you listening to? c'mon, you can do better than that. come here often? awful, just awful. you decide that you won't say anything – stopping his run for some small talk would just be awkward and you'd rather just keep looking at him. that's the safe bet, that's what you'll do.
he's back. he's on his fourth lap and he doesn't seem to be stopping any time soon. all self-respect has gone with the dancing wind as you blankly stare at the handsome stranger. the tips of his ears have grown red too and he's really panting now. he's just so— he slows down. his steps falter a few feet from you and your eyes widen. well, you didn't really consider the possibility of him starting the conversation. you check the name of your book to make sure you won't make a complete fool of yourself and repeat your own name in your head. there's no room to fuck up with a guy like him.
he glances down at his feet and your eyes follow. oh... his laces are undone. that's... disappointing. you're about to curse yourself for even thinking that he'd actually wanna talk to you but his silky smooth voice breaks your little bubble.
"may i?" his slender finger is pointing the bench your sitting on and you can't to open your mouth, humming an reply instead. his posture is extraordinaly as he walks to you and plops down a bit too close for a stranger (you most definitely do not mind).
it's quiet for a moment before he speaks up again. "what are you reading?"
you quietly thank yourself for checking the name and introduce it to the man beside you. even as he's tying his shoelaces, he has a strong presence. he keeps glancing at you from the corner of his eye, letting you know that he is in fact listening to you. when he's done he leans back against the bench and sprawls out his arms on the backrest; one of his is dangerously close to your shoulder but he'd never make that move this early. he just wants to make clear that he is as interested as you are. he lets his legs spread out a little wider, situating himself a bit more comfortably on the wooden bench and you stealthily pinch yourself for stealing a look at his strong thighs.
"you know, i thought about what to say but i couldn't come up with anything good... 'how's the run?' is pretty stupid, isn't it?" you ramble as you feel yourself melt under his gaze.
"you thought about what to say?"
...
"i– "
your head falls down to your chest as your whole body heats up – now you're actually afraid of melting away. you hide your burning face in your palms and you sigh. so much for not embarrasing yourself, huh? he in turn, lets his head fall back as he grins up at the sky. his lip piercing shines under the greyish light and his eyes fall shut as he basks in your flustered state.
when he feels like your cuteness meter is just about full - he lets you off the hook. "that's really sweet of you."
peeking from between your fingers, you look at him. his eyes peer from underneath his cap, and in a way, it's really adorable how you're both hiding your eyes from each other. maybe not even hiding, but just, sheltering them. gauging when to finally drop the act and let yourselves stare at each other freely just the way you actually want to.
"not totally embarrassing?" you joke, forcing down the nervousness and letting a smile sprout on your lips instead.
"not at all." he assures with his saccharine voice. you almost believe him.
"it's never a bad thing to be prepared." you've known him for mere minutes but you know he's teasing. the tease is smoothly hidden in his charismatic tone but it's there nonetheless. a bead of sweat rolls from his temple and he wipes it with the back of his hand.
you bite the inside of your cheek as you drop your hands but avert your gaze, turning to the trees for a boost of strength.
he'd never admit it but... he too had to think of a way. he too thought that it'd be too weird to just ask about your book – he had to think of a way to break the first barrier. so, he untied his laced before he reached you. but that's a secret.
"suguru."
you whip your head your back to him, surprised by his little introduction. you repeat his name out loud and it tastes like honey, the syllables falling from your lips like a sweet goo. he does the same with yours and you swear you've never heard anyone say it the way he just did. there's a purr to his voice, coming from deep inside his chest - each letter is given so much thought and care. accompanied by the determined look in his eyes – you're just grateful you're already sitting down; he has your knees feeling weak, the muscles in your body tensing as he shifts just a little closer. barely an inch but it's enough to speed up your heart even more, enough for your body temperature to be reaching a new high.
his hand reaches over and you follow it in slow motion; you can hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears as his fingertips graze your cheek. heat blooms from the touch and you feel like you're about to burst into a thousand little butterflies.
"you got a little something here..."
he takes notice of the warmth even though the contact lasted a fraction of a second – he's as observant as ever. his foxy eyes twinkle with a dose of smugness, a certain heat running through his body at the effects he seems to have on you.
pulling his hand back, he displays the single eyelash he just caught on his pointer finger right in front of your face. "c'mon, make a wish."
he watches your eyes flick from his finger to his eyes and then back down, he watches your brain work out your silly little wish. he thinks about what his would be and wonders whether you'd want the same.
you inhale sharply before blowing on his finger, letting the eyelash take flight and disappear with the wind. smiles bloom on your faces – the childish act bonding the two strangers forever.
"the run was good, by the way." he rests his hand back behind your shoulders, making you subconsciously lean closer. "the weather is good; i like this better. hard to focus when the sun is bearing down on you."
you nod your head, utterly bewitched by the man before you, and he knows it too. "'though it's hard to focus when i have you sitting here, too."
he has you hooked and he won't let you go. your eyes widen as his bore into you, absolutely feeding off of your every reaction.
"oh, you're killing me..."
"am i? i'm sorry for that, sweetheart."
you can't keep the groan that bubbles from the depths of your throat as you double over, hiding your face in your hands again. his quiet laughter rumbles through his chest and when you swear that when you raise your head, a singular sunray shines from behind the clouds. it lights up his smile, his eyes crinkling in the process. wow.
"when are you gonna come here again?"
there's no time to waste – you have to shoot your shot. you have to.
he lets the laughter die slowly, impressed by your sudden burst of confidence. "tomorrow."
"you run every day?" his ego grows in size at the surpised tone and he nods. "wait, how come i've never seen you before then?"
"maybe you were actually reading your book all those other times, hm?"
your heart does a little flip in your chest and you bite down into the soft flesh of your lip. he's sooooooooo...
he adjusts his hips on the bench and catches you looking. he's tempted to make another tease but—
"i would've definitely seen you if you were here. you're kind of hard to miss. very hard to miss actually."
he hides his reaction with a deep hum, infatuated with the fact that you can keep up with him so well despite your flustered state. "i just recently moved here, so... it'd actually be very nice to have somebody to show me around. the coffee would obviously be my treat, you know, if you're down for it, if you want to be that person for me."
his offer almost flies over your foggy head but his last words sink their claws into you at the last minute. the butterflies in your stomach are making you feel sick, a giddy nervousness swimming in your veins.
"i'd love to be that person for you." you nod your head, gluing your eyes to his as the final push to show you that you're as interested as he is. as if that wasn't clear enough already. "mainly for the the free coffee, though."
"right... right..." one of the corners of his lips is crooked upward and he looks so good. he looks like he bites, like he would sink his teeth into you so, oh, so gently and then lick the wound to make you all better again. you're really in it now.
unbeknownst to you – the sky has turned a shade darker, grey clouds now swarming the entirety of the field of blue above you and suddenly you feel a cold drop on your warm skin. and then another. and another. craning your neck up, you take in the foggy ceiling as the rain starts to soak your clothes.
you scramble to pack your bag, throwing your precious book in there before frantically looking for your pen only to have suguru hand it to you with a smile. "here."
"thank you."
you don't want to go. he doesn't want to go. the strap of your bag sits on your shoulder, the soles of your feet dig into the ground but nothing. you chew on your cheek and he picks at his fingernails – neither of you ready to part with each other just yet.
but thunder booms, yanking yourselves out of it. reminding that this chapter is only beginning and that the first page is always the shortest one anyway.
"you're gonna get a cold like this..."
"like what?" the water droplets cascade down his neck as he leans closer.
"oh, i don't know... sweaty and hot? what if the wind and the rain get to you and i don't get to have my free coffee, hm?"
he does want to bite you. his canines bite into his bottom lip as he observes you. how you're completely unfazed by the rain, how your confidence is clearly growing as you tempt him with your words.
"the wind and the rain have nothing on me, angel. i'd kill to get you that coffee." lightning strikes as his words fall from his tainted lips and he can't tear his eyes from you.
finally, he pushes himself off the bench and you watch him stretch his whole body like a big cat. an inch of skin shows itself from below his jacket, his happy trail making your eyes bulge before you clear your throat with a quiet cough and push yourself up aswell. making sure you have everything, you check your bag and your pockets and turn to him, only to find him already staring down at you. he's tall. he looked tall before too... but now that you're standing next to him – he's really fucking tall. and he seems to be thinking the same thing as he takes the oppurtunity to assert a little dominance by closing the distance between you.
"and maybe the rain will do you some good too... maybe it'll help you cool off, yeah?" there it is again – hidden by a tone of genuine advice – the tease. it slips from his curved lips with ease, with too much ease, and you hate that you can't even argue with him. you burn under his eyes and the rain is seemingly the only thing that's keeping you alive at this point.
"i think you should buy me so many coffees." you sigh, clutching onto your bag strap. he's towering over you, so you need just about anything and everything to keep your composure.
"yeah? what for?" he laughs. god, you love his laugh.
"for putting up with your teasing. i think i deserve a reward, honestly."
it looks like a scene out of a romantic little movie – the two lovers standing in the storm; fingers twitching beside their bodies, gazes lingering on each other for longer than they should. nobody would guess that this is your first meeting.
"terrible manners, by the way. i can't believe i'm still talking to you." you give him another sigh, albeit an overly dramatic one this time.
suguru hasn't been this beguiled since... ever probably. yes, his friends tend to give him snarky comments like this but it's entirely different coming from you. it gets his heart pumping like nothing else – the rush from the run has nothing on you.
"oh, my deepest apologies, your highness. shall i kiss thy hand before we part?"
his little bit coaxes out a loud cackle – his chest swells at the sweet melody, getting addicted already.
"yes! yes, i think you should do that, kind sir." your cheeks hurt from smiling when you hold your hand out for him, testing whether he'd actually do it.
(he's forcing down a full-body reaction at you calling him sir.)
suguru is not a man to back down and you're about to learn all about it. the thunder rumbles loudly, echoing through the park he takes your smaller hand into his bigger ones, raising it to his mouth. his purple eyes twinkle at you and your breaths are getting shorter and shorter. his lips graze your wet skin before he's fully pressing them against you, all while keeping eye contact with you.
a shiver runs up your back and you're about to pass out. or throw up. or die. something is happening to you and he's the sole reason behind it.
he lowers your hand and offers you another dangerous grin; his sharp teeth glint from behind his pretty lips as the lighting flashes again and you gulp.
"don't die on me now."
...
your jaw drops and you place your hands on your hips, tilting your chin up to show your 'annoyance'. "exactly what was the point of the kiss, if you plan on continuing your little act, hm, suguru?"
"the point is to get to kiss you again."
..................................
oh.
this stranger will be the death of you. your whole body flushes again, your own built up cockiness fades away, leaving you small and shivering before him. the perfect prey ready for picking.
"not today though. can't have the highness grow too big, now can i? but perhaps next time? over that promised coffee?" his voice is sticky and sweet, meant as a trap to catch little doves like you.
you squeak out a mhmm as he's already getting his phone from his little bag.
by now, you're both absolutely soaked. the spring thunder cleans you from the groggy winter feelings and thoughts and gives life to... whatever this is going to bloom into.
you exchange your socials, giggling at how the screens refuse to cooperate under the rain but you get it done nonetheless.
"please, don't get sick."
"if i do, you'd nurse me back to health though, wouldn't you?"
you slap his chest, unable to bear the teasing little remarks any longer. his charisma knows no bounds and it's 100% not what you expected him to be like. maybe you should've – the eyes betray him.
"probably, yeah. nurse you from this horrendeous act. where are you learning it from anyway? some terrible love coach?" you scoff.
"something like that yeah." he trails off, once again hypnotized by the way your wet eyelashes shine when you blink up at him.
"okay-okay, we have to stop this now or we'll both get sick." you shake your head, physically trying to remove every thought of him that has been swimming in your head for the past hour or so. he hums as a reply. he fixes the cap on his head and awaits for you to make the first move.
it's taking everything in you to do so – it's almost as if you're glued there, right in front of him and it just feels right. his voice is right, his words are right, his eyes are right, his lips, his teases; but when the thunder booms again, you know it in your guts that he's gonna be in your life for a long time.
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this kind of turned into smth way different than i intended but i'm not mad hihihi
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master-xochimilli · 2 months
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Wish I could tie my pretty sweetheart up, set them all out for me on the bed, have them all nice and comfy maybe I'll settle a soft kiss on their lips before slowly trailing ice around their body— seeing how they squirm and twitch as the cold goes across their skin, a mix of stinging pain and delicate pleasure on them~
Denying their pleads to cum by shoving an ice into their mouth, making them feel my cock grow hard inside their warm little cunt from their desperate muffled cries and whimpers~
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duu-kiwi · 9 months
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I bet aziraphale wrote about the day the universe was made, about the angel whose voice recited the words that created the stars, about how bright they shone, and still shine, in those angel eyes✨🪐
Here you have some detailss and a cropped version with just!! them!!!
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edit: prints link !
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fixing-bad-posts · 2 months
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one shots are so good and legendary 😭
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toytulini · 10 months
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listen im ace and im pro kink at pride and whatever, but the way some of yall are wording your posts in response to the backlash against it is uh. really taking me back to the ace shitcourse era.
yall know theres nothing wrong with being a "virgin", right? that its not inherently shameful to have not had sex, to never have sex, even if youre not ace, even if you do want to have sex someday, like, its fine that you haven't had sex?
maybe if your problem is that theyre trying to police your behavior and shame you for expressing your sexuality, you can say that? instead of resorting to "haha stupid virgin gets no bitches" like my god. do you not hear how fucking regressive that attitude is? i know, i know, youre "joking".
get a better joke
#toy txt post#god im going to regret this post im gonna regret it so much i can feel it in my bones#let it flop..........pls#internalize my message let it sink in and understand what i am saying and then let the post flop#i say. knowing the ppl who need to see such a message are the ones who will make me regret this post and regrwt not having#1 million bajillion disclaimers#virgin is in quotes bc its a bullshit made up stupid purity culture concept anyway and quite frankly i hate even seeing the word#disclaimer: the previous sentence is not me saying that it is a slur for asexuals. it is me a single individual saying this specific word#grosses me out to read and see everywhere when its a stupid bullshit binary made up or at least historically largely used#to shame largely women and i dont know why we're still using it in 2023#and ive just been. seeing such an uptick in this whole like. attitude? lately and like#im ace im minorly sex repulsed. mostly about anything sex at me bad. other adults sex at each other consensually? go wild#i like to think im pretty chill about it. i try to be. i think its fine ig to be like 'my meat is huge i fuck so much so good'#like okay not my thing but good for you. love that for you#but then some of yall have started turning it back around back to. 'haha your meat so small and shriveled you get no bitches'#'haha stupid incel virgin' like okay. didnt realize we all went back to fucking. middle school but okay#god im gonna run out of tine to get ready for my thing writing this stupid post UGH evil#but like idk we've kinda circled back to being like haha being a virgin still is stupid and silly and shameful#and if im quite honest. i do think the acecourse played a part in that bc i felt like we were making good progress in like#hey guys is fine to not have sex ever if you dont want to its fine to not want sex its fine#and then aphobes went fucking rabid on us and splintered and destroyed online communities all over but especially on tumblr#and so many aces went back in the closet we stopped talking about it we stopped spreading awareness and now this stupid goddamn like#and now this stupid bullshit attitude is back where its like funny to call someone a virgin as an insult but like no bro trust me its okay#its okay for me to do it bc im a hot queer person with huge meat instead of a cisstraight frat bro with huge meat#? like you know the issue was the behavior right? not the fact that it was straight dudes saying it? its bc the thing being said was shitty?#you know you can dunk on the puritan bitches trying to police your behavior at pride without getting us as collateral damage right#stop making me read that stupid ugly ass word ur not cool or funny#whatever#if you come on to this post to start shit i will not only block you but as many of your mutuals and followers as i can find. i will scroll#i will block this entire fucking website if i need to do not test me. i am exhausted and the acecourse ate up all my tolerance in 2015.
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honeydewsblue · 3 months
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( gojo and paparazzi ) — alternatively: this with gojo 💀…
╰┄➤ 1.1 k wc, reader n gojo are obsessed and in love with each other, jealousy, not proofread i’m too incapacitated (sleep deprived)
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satoru has a sort of unearthly beauty to him, you think that much is a sort of fundamental truth. an axiom. he's a frustratingly attractive man, in spite of his piss poor personality and the uncanny features he possesses. he’s got white hair and blue eyes and height that makes him almost as tall as his ego; there is nothing about him that is anything short of unnatural.
satoru is unnaturally pretty—and unfairly so, too. he knows it. how could he not, when anyone who has the ability to see makes a point of acknowledging it? whether it's through envious glares or wanting stares, or by being awestruck at the sight of someone who doesn't look like he belongs amongst humans (if only they knew how right they were), people notice him. not as if he needs that to know his worth. in the back of your head, you can hear his raucous laugh at the prospect of being in any way dependent on something so insignificant; on anything at all. you think i give a shit about them?
(still, you know he thrives off of it, off of the attention—being the attention whore that he is.)
the point is, it’s obvious that people can see satoru’s beauty.
especially now, you think, when you watch women your age fawn and giggle to each other over him—watch as they snap pictures and take videos of him. it’s almost pious, the way they try to capture him in film.
yes, an agreeing hum rolls in your throat, it is a universal truth that he is beautiful. unnaturally so. but you really wish people could just be normal, and refrain from being so indecent as to film strangers on the street.
it's not the first time it's happened—the farthest thing from it. unfortunately, you know it's even farther from being the last time, too. satoru's always been a sort of spectacle, one way or the other; in his power, his skills, his looks... he's watched by everyone. he is someone to serve witness to. that, too, is a fundamental truth.
though you know this, an ugly little feeling crawls in your gut while you watch the scene play out in front of you. most of it a sense of disgust, given the impression of how out of touch people are—but, a smaller, yet even uglier, part of it is a little possessive.
that smaller, uglier part feels a little offended at the fact that they’re being so blatantly disrespectful in front of you. that smaller, uglier part feels a little humiliated.
it’s a familiar sight, something you’ve seen happen time and time again, but this is the first time you’ve taken it as an insult—the first time you’ve taken it so personally, the first time you’ve felt it. the first time you’ve felt your dignity being prodded at, like there’s a blazed red rod poking and poking, urging that burning feeling in your gut to grow hotter and hotter. it’s an invasive thing, this hot, rushing feeling.
it isn’t personal. you know that. it shouldn’t be personal, but…
when you meet satoru in the middle, your fingers slip under the collar of his dress shirt. your nails drag taut at the crisp linen like an assertion and you pull him towards you, swift as you press your lips against his. you can feel the hesitation, the fleeting shock against them—that sharp, nearly imperceptible gasp skipping across teeth—but it barely lasts half a second before he’s the one kissing you. that small, uglier little part of you hopes that their little camera captured the picture of you kissing him.
you keep your heavy eyes cracked open, capturing it for yourself.
his hand finds its way to your lower back easily, like a puzzle piece fitting into its slots, holding you close to him; securing you. his hand is weighted on your back in a way that grounds you, but gentle as his fingers skim across your the fabric of your shirt. heavy and gentle like he’s trying to get to the skin underneath. heavy and gentle, like the way he looks at you, eyes skimming across your face—your eyes, to your lips, your cheeks, your eyes again. heavy and gentle, like worship. he wets his lips, swallows. “what was that about?”
he likes the look you have in your eyes, likes the way they mirror his own.
(you see him like how he sees the world, like something all encompassing. he likes that he can see you, only you, with this overwhelming sort of clarity. he likes that he sees you the way you see the world—the tunnel vision of it all. your attention is the only one he really wants for. the only one really he needs.
if you told him he was dependent on you, he’s not sure he’d have it in him to laugh it off.)
you cast a dirty, sidelong glance at where you feel two pairs of eyes burning holes at the both of you; poking and poking.
(and satoru thinks you look awfully pretty right now, your eyes glaring and lidded, your lashes contouring the sharp and narrowed look you bear. awfully, unearthly pretty, and so very familiar in a way that makes him crave you, makes him want to immortalize you in his skin. it’s instinctual, the way he gravitates to you, minty breath ghosting your cheek.)
they’re borderline gawking at the two of you until one of them smacks at the other's arm not-so-inconspicuously, and they shuffle off to the sidewalk, whispering to each other yet again. it’s only then that satoru follows your line of sight. when it clicks, he looks back at you far too eagerly for your comfort.
“oh,” he drawls, his stupid pretty teeth bearing themselves in the stupid, obnoxious grin that spreads across his lips. “that’s what it was?”
the idea of you being so possessive makes his stomach flip.
“baby, are you jealous?” he looks awfully happy about it, blue eyes gleaming at you with an unabashed sort of mirth. even when he finds himself being on other end of that glare of yours, his dimples only get deeper.
“you’re worse than me,” you hum. you don’t admit it, but you don’t deny it—you can’t. maybe you’re spending too much time with him.
oh. goosebumps break out against your skin at the thought of picking up his behavior, a little horrified at the thought of coming off as obtrusive as him. you shrug it off, shaking your head. “doesn’t matter,” you say airily, glancing at him, “you’re mine.”
you definitely spend too much time with him, if your aloof nonanswers and attitude attest to anything.
when your eyes meet his, you think that he sees it too. there’s a certain look in his eyes, the way they widen a fraction like he’s trying to commit you to memory—as if he hasn’t already. you know it’s probably just from the dark of night, but his pupils are wide and that revered and blessed blue he bears is reduced to a ring. right now, his eyes are consuming. you think you can see yourself in them.
(and, he does—he does see it. with his eyes, he sees little bits of himself transfused with you and it’s the most satisfying feeling he’s ever gotten in his life.)
he only smiles at you, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your temple, his words spoken against your skin. “that’s right, baby.”
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thank you for reading, feedback and reblogs are much appreciated 🤍!!
a/n. i haven’t posted anything in so long so i cranked this out… i really wanted to post something and that video thankfully gave me a lil idea hehe :’-) i hope it doesn’t seem too rushed <3
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Danny bursting into the full batcave: Jason has ghost cancer
Batfam: wut
Danny fazing kryptonite out of the lead vault: Jason has ghost cancer.
Batfam: who tf are you?!
Danny already turning the corner into a dead end part of the cave: wouldn’t you like to know weather boy.
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2knightt · 5 months
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「 you are—unforgettable.」
IN WHICH—you’re them and they’re you!♡ ໋֢ 👒✧
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🍵ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡
⌗ 👒 notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ people in this fic refer to two-bit as ‘keith.’ who cuz who the FUCK says ‘he got his two-bits in🤓’ NOBODY! but in the descriptive parts he will be two-bit. ALSO IF U DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT I’M SAYING LOOK IN THE TAGS!
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Ponyboy Curtis ;
his class was gonna watch this movie before reading a book. ‘the outsiders,’ or somethin’.
it was made in the ‘80’s—he didn’t want to even watch it. watching movies in class was the worst!
ponyboy sat at his desk, head in his arms. he heard the music and looked up, chin resting on his arms.
when ponyboy seen you writing down and narrating, he could’ve sworn he died and came back to life. LIKE WHEN HE HEARD YOUR VOICEEE HE GOT A LITTLE BLUSH ON HIS CHEEKS.
his friends beside him noticed, snickering to themselves. they shoved him, asking if that was his future partner. he just pushed them off, quietly telling them to fuck off.
when ponyboy seen you covered in the soot??? phew—he questioned his morals, man. and THEN HE SEEN YOU BEAT UP?? he was getting FED.
ponyboy came out of that school a new man.
his ears were hot, his cheeks were red, and he was already looking up edits of you. ponyboy shoved those almost broken wired apple headphones in his ears and tuned everyone out.
when he got home he ignored any questions darry and soda threw at him and immediately went to his room. ponyboy quietly closed the door before hopping into bed, pulling out his phone, and going on tiktok.
spent like a solid 30 minutes tweaking over edits of you. like full on screaming into his pillow—i’m so serious.
“darry, what the hell is that noise?”
“i dunn—ponyboy?”
“AHHH!!”
when he found out that, outside of the outsiders, you’re decades older than him he was SO HEARTBROKEN.
the gang seen him looking at photos of you and immediately started teasing him. he absolutely tried to back himself up with stutters.
“they’re how much years older than you, bro?”
“NONO HEAR ME OUT, PLEASE! KEITH, BRO, PLEASE.”
reads fanfic. look at me in the eyes and try to tell me that ponyboy motherfucking curtis doesn’t read fanfiction.
you can’t.
like bro he’s so desperate for more content of you to the point where he writes the fics he yearns for—got pretty popular to.
“why the fuck is your phone blowing up?”
“PLEASE don’t ask me any questions about it.”
he’s a freak. he knows everything about you. ponyboy’s even began to watch your interview’s about the movie. and your other movies.
literally a teenage girl.
“THEY’RE SO FINE THOUGH, PLEASE!”
“nuh-uh.”
“FUCK YOU MEAN ‘NUH-UH’?”
Johnny Cade ;
seen you when he was watching random movies at the curtis house. at first he was like, ‘wait!! they’re so me coded😛.’ it never occurred to him that you could be so cute.
he seen you crying and something in him like actually snapped.
“wait….am i getting a crush? they’re kinda…”
when he seen the equivalent of ponyboy in this universe snuggled up to you in the church he was soooo jealous.
yk that one audio where it’s like, “how long is he gon’ be talking to my WIFE.” that’s literally johnny cade when he seen that person kiss the top of your head.
“what the fuck?”
“…what do you mean?”
“nothin’. it’s just kinda bullshit that they swoop in and steal my chance😒.”
“you never had one.”
“okay, pal😐.”
heart broke when he seen you in the hospital bed btw. like was full on gripping onto a pillow with tears in his eyes.
johnny was in such denial when he seen you die😭. ‘bro, no. they literally aren’t dead.’/‘guys!! it’s just a prank!!’
when he got to the scene he was in SHAMBLES. HE WAS INCONSOLABLE. ripping his hair out, screaming, crying, allat.
“stay gold…”
“NOOOOOOO-“
was so pissed when you didn’t come back. was even more pissed when your letter was read out loud.
“HOW COULD THEY KILL THEM OFF?? THEY DIDN’T DESERVE IT!”
“johnny, it’s a movie.”
“this is so unfair. i hate movies.”
gets nervous looking at photos of you. like to the point where he tries to look up your name on pinterest before bailing mid sentence and giggling. like full on throwing his phone across the room, kicking his feet.
will talk for hours about you. thinks your the coolest character ever!! defends you like his life depends on it.
“they killed someone?”
“so?? you’re acting like you wouldn’t do it to🤣🤣 fake ahh friend.”
“they legit can’t stand up for themselves. you want someone like that to be out walking them streets?”
“oh, god for bid a person has trauma. and YES I DO🗣️. i hope they walk right into my arms, HO.”
all said online btw. he would never ruin his ego by speaking like this. i am a strong believer johnny cade puts up a strong front online.
johnny literally thinks you’re the cutest person he’s ever seen. like his cheeks get so hot when he thinks about you and he gets a silly little smile on his face.
he looks at photos of you and his friends think he has a little girlfriend.
“who you textin’, johnnycakes?”
“nobody-uh!”
“c’mon—we see that smile!”
and it’s literally just you with blood dripping down your face.
Dallas Winston ;
caught a glimpse of you at some girls house he slept at. literally stopped dead in his tracks as he seen you light a cigarette before mumbling, ‘nothin’ legal, man.’
“i-uh, what movie’s this?”
“huh? oh, the outsiders. pretty good movie.”
he thanked her and threw on his jacket before speed walking to bucks place. he had to watch this movie or he’s actually lose it.
imagine buck’s bar is actually a house, kay? dallas sits his pretty little ass on that couch, flips to whatever streaming service, and turns on ‘the outsiders.’
thought it was all boring until he seen you walk into frame—mocking the main character. at that very moment he was all, ‘wait that’s kinda hot.’
seeing you help the two younger ones run away while still acting tough was so attractive to him. dallas felt like he was losing his mind.
seeing you run in after the two into the church kinda made his knees weak.
“BAE NO!”
“what the hell are you screamin’ ‘bout?”
“nothin’, buck…”
he was so scared that you’d die in the fire. (little did old dallas know am i right fellas!!!!) like i swear to god he was so scared you’d end up like the johnny in this universe.
WHEN HE SEEN YOU FIGHTINGGG. he went feral. dallas was like so flustered. he was trying so hard to hide his blush to the ghosts around him with his hair.
his flush was short lived however. seeing you cry and then literally point a gun at a cashier was lowkey whiplash for him.
“what the fuck is happening?”
dallas figured out what was gonna happen early on and started kinda tearing up. like one tear formed in his eye before he blinked it away. but he was still devastated.
WHEN DALLY HEARD SOMEONE SCREAM “they’re just a kid!” he lost it. like actually. he went limp on the couch and spaced out. like damn…his fiancé, who doesn’t know they’re his fiancé yet, really WAS just a kid.
nobody knows he likes the outsiders OR that he has a crush on you. and they CAN’T know, it’s way too embarrassing. like actually.
when he’s with the gang and he’s just casually scrolling on tiktok and he sees the tags with your name, he immediately favourites it and scrolls. he saved it for later when he’s alone.
also defends you like there’s no tomorrow.
“they were hitting on someone who had a partner??”
“okay?? fucking live a little jesus.”
“THEY’RE A FUCKING CRIMINAL?”
“i’m into it tho lmfao”
swears up and down that if you and him were in a room together—you’d have a crush on him. top tier delusion.
like if he gets drunk with keith, he will rant about it.
“no—hear me out. put me in a room with y/n l/n and i swear to god they’re gonna be madly in love with me.”
“no they won’t, dallas.”
“yuh-huh.”
looks at photos of you and probably has you as his pfp on his spam. includes you in every other photo dump.
Sodapop Curtis ;
seen an edit of you on tiktok and audibly gasped. full on went, “WHO IS THATT😜” went to the tags and just scrolled under it for a good long while.
he seen a angst edit of you and made up his mind that he had to watch the movie.
for the while that you weren’t on screen, he was trying to push through. he really was. but deep down—in his head he was screaming, “BORING! SHOW ME THE PRETTY ONE!!”
when sodapop seen you tending to your younger sibling he could’ve sworn he was on cloud 9.
“my turn when :/.”
WHEN SODA SEEN YOU GET OUT OF THE SHOWERRR😭😭. he lost his BREATH like was full on gripping his imaginary pearls.
had to take a breather to walk around the house before unpausing the movie. had a blush across his cheeks, i can’t even lie.
when he learned that you were described as, “movie star attractive,” all he did was nod. like,
“mhm. i always knew my fiancé was good looking.”
SODA WAS APPALLED WHEN HE FOUND OUT THAT YOUR PARTNER CHEATED ON YOU. like jaw was on the FLOOR.
“I COULD TREAT THEM BETTER🗣️🗣️ THEY KNOW WHERE HOME IS!!”
he is so open about his little crush in you—it’s so cute :(
“steve, look at ‘em.”
“i see them—get your fuckin’ phone outta my face.”
“aren’t they so perfect??🤭🤭”
“i guess.”
“well, BACK OFF. we’re already happily married.”
“in your dreams maybe.”
“oh my god.”
soda has you as his pfp on at least two platforms. his name on one platform is “y/n’s boyfriend (REAL!)”
seeing you run out on your siblings after they grouped you into your argument made him just wanna hug you so bad. like he just wanted to tell you it was all gonna be okay.
has a album in his photos where it’s edits of you and photos. giggles and twirls his hair as he looks at it.
Darry Curtis ;
his parents used to watch the movie all the time and you’ve always just been a life long crush of his.
like when younger darry seen you walk into frame, comforting your kid sibling, something in his head snapped.
suddenly everything was in slow motion, there were hearts everywhere, he had rose coloured glasses on, and for some reason—harps play in the background.
as darry grew up it literally never went away. whenever the outsiders comes on when he’s home he always still goes, “woah.😍😍”
like he thinks you’re so fine.
he doesn’t like watch edits, read fanfic—none of that🗣️. but if he gets asked who is celebrity crush is—your name is coming out of his mouth ASAP.
“so, darry, who’s your celebrity cru-“
“y/n l/n.”
“but they’re a character?”
“Y/N L/N.”
he has like ONE printed out photo of you in his room from years ago. he knows exactly where it is and where to hide it, but he still keeps it.
at least once every two months, when everyone’s asleep and he has no work the next day, he’ll stay up just to watch the movie.
he’ll have a budlight in his hand as he watches you absolutely DEMOLISH at the rumble.
“i always knew they’d win.”
“you’ve watch this movie a thousand times.”
“PONYBOY?!”
the gang eventually found out his little crush on you. only light teasing ‘cause they’re so scared they’ll get that darry smoke if they push him further😭😭.
“oh my god! look, darry! you’re little crush is on screen!”
“steve, i will beat some sense into you if you don’t shut up.”
“…okay, bud.”
“when’s the weddin’?”
“after your funeral, keith.”
“wow. hater.”
Steve Randle ;
his dad fell asleep on the couch one night with this old movie playing in the background.
steve was about to turn it off before he caught a glimpse of you offering this half naked person some cake. he was all, ‘WAITTTT🙈🙈!!’
like he seen you in that sleeveless jacket and immediately fell in love. literally was on a mission to figure out who you were.
when he did? all he wanted to do was watch the outsiders. WHEN HE SEEN YOU SCOLDING THE MAIN CHARACTER HE SOO KNEW YOU WERE HIS TYPE
“wish they’d scold me like that…damn…😞✊”
was TWEAKING SOO HARD WHEN HE SEEN YOU ALL BLOODY WITH YOUR HEAD THROWN BACK.
“…you think i look tuff?”
“YES BAE!!!”
making his name on like insta or something, “y/n’s HUSBAND.” he puts emphasis on the husband because he believes that you want him so bad.
like actually. he’s fucking delusional.
“guys…they like cake…and I LIKE CAKE! do you see my vision??”
“no??”
“man, fuck you.”
photo dumps on insta of pictures of you with the caption, “from our honeymoon 😍😍😛😛!” his friends are ripping him apart in comments btw.
WOULD GO FOR WAR FOR YOU.
“they’re actually so gross what.”
“YOU’RE GROSS!🗣️ KEEP THEM OUT OF YOUR MOUTH YOU FOOL!!”
“they have 0 depth.”
“0 depth to YOU. to ME they’re the love of my life.”
Two-bit Matthews ;
seen the outsiders when he was drunk. he didn’t remember anything that night but the cute lil’ actor who was laughing after flirting with some rich lookin’ kid.
the only thing he remembers saying that night was,
“damn—when is it MY TURN😩😞”
WENT ON A FUCKING HUNT TO FIND THIS MOVIE ISTG. he was looking up shit that didn’t even matter to the plot—so he got different movies each time.
‘cute actor flirting’
‘cute actor in old ass movie’
‘mickey mouse shirt’
‘when was mickey mouse created’
‘who is walt disney’
he got a little distracted but that’s not the point. two-bit found the movie and cried tears of joy. fell to his knees and all😭.
he immediately turned the outsiders on and waited to see you. HE WAS SOO SAD TO FIND OUT YOU HAD LIKE SUCH LITTLE SCREENTIME.
but he worked with it. he was taking SO MUCH PHOTOS OF HIS TV WHEN YOU WERE ON SCREEN LMFAO. they were all so shaky too😭😭.
doesn’t shut the fuck up about you.
“they want me so bad🤣🤣😂😂.”
“they wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole, keith.”
“what if i killed myse-”
“they’re so find i won’t ‘em.”
“what the fuck are you saying?”
“what are YOU SAYING? back up.”
saves edits of you. he is ABSOLUTELY THE TYPE OF PERSON TO SAY THE MOST OUT OF POCKET SHIT ABOUT YOU IN THE COMMENTS LMFAOOO
‘they could beat the shit out of me and i thank them :3’
‘WHAT?’
‘omg who said that’
you are his profile picture everywhere. and anywhere.
genuinely believe you’re the love of his life. i swear to god he does. KING OF DELUSION ABOVE ALL ELSE!
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coolcoolcoolbutwtf · 2 months
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Joker junior isn't the only kid in the joker's gang anymore.
Harley: This is your new babysitter I mean older brother, You know Mr.J and I can't just spend all our time with you Junior. Why don't you and Trixter get yourselves introduced while playing somewhere away from here, Kay bye!
Trixter(Danny): ...
JJ:...
Trixter(Danny): I like your nails they are pretty.
JJ: *growling and hissing*
...
Harley tugging the child leach with junior in it: it don't bite.
Danny: Yes it do!
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isbergillustration · 2 months
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Hey. Please don’t disturb them, they’re doing important and, uh, totally consensual work here.
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2smolbeans · 3 months
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Yandere and angst mixed in one fic
Thanks for the request!! It's not really a fic but a thought based on that.Thouughhh the qualilty is kinda ehhh..lol- it was still fun to think and write though!:
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Yandere Angst Scenario
Tags: implied bullying, sadism, yandere goes from cruel to a desperate individual, darling had feelings for the yan but then lost them, mentioned ex partner, angst.
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Imagine a yandere who absolutely despises you but desperately clings onto you. They need you but at the same time berate you for the littlest of things. They say they love you but never fail to make you cry. They claim that you have them wrapped around your thumb but can easily ruin your life just by muttering a few words into someone's ear. You try to get away, but they always follow.
There's been multiple times where they've come into your workplace, only to slowly turn everyone against you. Passive glances, total silence, uncomfortable deadpanned stares. You've never felt so alone whenever they were in your life. You'd be all alone, and they would always be surrounded by others- smiling and passing by you without any acknowledgment. There was one time at a company celebration where everyone was supposed to be at a bar drinking together. Everyone sat at a table together, and you sat there alone, watching them. When you prepared to leave, you recalled them paying their farewells. You smiled, thinking it was for you, but only to realise in embarrassment that it was for the newbie who stood up after you made your way to the door. You remembered how empty you felt when you got home, no tears to be shed - but just that suffocating acceptance.
The worst part is, this person, the reason why your social life has always been in the dumps - was the person you were so in love with. It's funny how that works. Shouldn't you hate them? You can't bring yourself to though..It seemed so long ago, but there was one point that the two of you were in good terms. Were you friends? You weren't so sure. The memories were so distant, but the feelings were still there. Why did you like them again?
That didn't matter anymore. It didn't help that they were with someone you knew closesly only to hurt you out of spite. So what was the point in all this? The gossiping, the microaggressions, the dread. You've tried confronting them about it, only for them to feign innocence and make you feel stupid at the end.
"You think I'm the reason why your social life is shit? Seriously? How old are you?"
"Take a look in the mirror. Maybe that's why no one talks to you."
"Your desperation is so obvious and pathetic. It drives people away. So stop seeking validation from others and love yourself, kay?"
"Now sorry, I'm busy. I have someone to meet. Unlike you."
So this person that you love so much, that for some awful reason- seek validation from, crushes you in the most heartwrenching way. And when it comes to this person, they don't pay any mind to you. They like how you're underneath them. They adore how you seek validation from them in the most subtle of ways (even though its not really to them personally), and they find you laughable. You knew that for sure - they've told you so many times.
So, did they love you? Surprisingly, yes. In their own twisted way, this is how they loved you. So they break your heart over and over again. Eventually, though, you move on. You find new friends, workplaces, and lover.. Of course it would happen, nothing lasts forever. They let you have your fun of course- but begin to get tired of it. So they take it away all over again. Your friends..And of course, that lover.
So there you are, angry with tears as you stand outside their apartment. Banging on the door as you call out their name. They answer, and they stare at you- smiling as they tilt their head to the side mockingly, asking you whats wrong. You yell, scream, and sob as you show them the messages you're now ex sent you. How they framed you for cheating on them..With them.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? What the actual FUCK is wrong with you. I never fucked you, I never- EVER will. So why did you say that- why, WHY?! Wasn't it enough when you made my life at the office a living hell? Isn't it enough?!"
"Oh, you came. That was quick. Do you wanna come in? Or do you wanna continue making a scene out here? Your choice."
"A-Are you even listening?"
"In or out?"
So you go inside..And you just sit there on their couch crying. You think for a moment they have some remorse as they stare at you with empathy as they sit beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder..But..
"Oh hun..I just love seeing you cry. That's it. It's not over pure love or some complicated shit. It just turns me on seeing you all pathetic."
"I need you by my side. You're the only one who could ever feel so..Alive like this. Maybe I do love you. Who knows?"
"Maybe we could find out..I'm sorry you have to suffer like this..But..I mean what else is there to say pft?"
"I know I'm being selfish. So just bare with me alright?"
"I think I love you. I don't want you being with anyone else. At the same time..I want you crying because of me. Then that shows me how much I matter to you"
"You don't cry over a nobody..So I'm somebody to you"
"Don't you see why that's special? It's stupid...So huh, maybe I am in love with you."
"....I love you. I think? That's why I'm doing all this.."
Laughing bitterly, you just stare in disbelief as you shove them and leave.
"There’s something fucking wrong with you. Get help."
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Years later they would get softer as they realised how much you really mean to them. How much love you actually deserved, how dumb they were to use you in a way that was cruel. Sure even now they had sadistic urges, but they could've acted on them in other ways. God it's embarrassing thinking about it! Looking back on their cruelty like it was some middleschool cringe and not ruining someones well being- they often think about you and the ways they could bring you back.
They messed up, and the day you left and never returned made them realise it.
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"Hey, it's me-"
"Who the fuck are you? H-How did you get in?! Why are you in my house-"
"Look..I wanted to say sorry. 5 years ago I never realised how much you really meant to me, and I took that for-"
"I don't care go away. I'm calling the cops-"
"Says who? Try it, the service is dead."
"What..?"
"Look. I know you must've been pissed for the shit I pulled back then..But I changed! The day you left, I realised that-"
"Oh my god..It's you.."
"Yeah.. I know it's been a while.."
"Wasn't making my life miserable back then enough? Or not? You took a lot from me back then, what more could you want now?"
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"So now you're sorry? You're only sorry cause I left. I'm never loving you, I never will."
"Well you don't know that.."
"Ohhh trust me. I know so."
"We'll see about that."
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"Honey..Look stop struggling. I know back then I must've really hurt you, but it's going to be different now okay? I love you. I mean it. And I don't care how far I have to go to show that to you"
"I know you love me. You loved me before..So I know you'll love me again. I'm not the same as I was before, I promise!"
"Give me another chance..I promise I'll make you happy"
"So stop struggling, or I'll twist that pretty leg of yours."
"Aww..Sorry hun. Didn't mean to slap you that hard but- I think I kind of like this look on you.."
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A/N: So I tried to go for a sadistic yandere being cruel to their darling who had feelings for them but then went too far...Only for their darling to no longer like them due to the heart break!
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merakiui · 3 months
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Okay speaking of magical girls.... Evil villain tako that has a crush on the cute magical girl at NRC but he doesnt know shes the magical girl that's trying to thwart his evil plan of taking over sage's island mwhaha
YES YES YES. And every week he gets his ass handed to him. You're determined to keep Sage's Island safe!!!! He's trying to get to know you through the fights. The (one-sided) sexual/romantic tension is too much. Tako who flirts at every chance during your fights... you genuinely want to take him out (defeat him), but he wants to take you out (on a date). And it's so obvious he's down bad for you, but you have no idea he's Azul Ashengrotto (your fellow classmate) and he has no idea of your identity either. Azul's trying to balance his love for the magical girl he fights on weekends and his darling classmate who he sees during the week hehe. How fortuitous that they are the same person.
Please imagine that trope where the villain ensnares the hero in tentacles, but it ends up looking more erotic than threatening....... orz evil villain tako whose tentacle is holding you upside down by the ankle and he's monologuing about how he'll take over the island and you'll get to watch, powerless against him. But then he looks at you and your skirt has flipped up and he's granted a gratuitous panty shot!!!!!!! Tako who gets a nosebleed on the spot. He's such a loser pervert. <3
Omg omg or you're squirming in the tentacles and ranting about how you'll get him for this, but Azul's trying so hard not to give into the horny thoughts because the way the tentacles are looped around you and squeezing is so attractive to him.
Like that one scene where Stocking's fighting the octopus ghost LOL.
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yanderegrizzsworld · 4 months
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i remember the yandere sonic the hedgehog sonic, shadow, silver about the reader dying because of like tails and such what if one day they see the reader standing near where they died the reader managed to make themselves a physical body except they still have wounds and blood all over them the reader can touch them and objects
It's alright if you don't wanna do this request
Have a great day :3
This genuinely has so much angst potential & I could talk about how each of the hedgehog's could at first believe that they're merely hallucinating at the moment because there's no way you're still alive— You can't be alive— & yet here you are, standing right in front of them, just as pretty & as charming as they remember, though you are covered head to toe in blood but they won't focus on that right now. How a silent laugh or a sudden cackle rises from their throats as their finger or hand or arm twitch to go & touch you, to feel you— Maybe, just maybe, you are here...
How Sonic immediately dashes to you at such speed that you barely process his foot initially lifting to him pressed against you, hands clutching you so hard you're incapable of moving if you tried. How his mouth— Just like his feet— move without pause nor end, each phrase & word blending & bluring into each other at such rapid speed you'd assume he'd just created a new language. How he claims he's sorry for not being there for you, not being there to protect you— But that's okay! He's here now, you're here now & he promises to never allow it to happen again, he swears!
How Shadow just stands there, staring— Almost contemplating about what he's seeing, is his mind playing tricks on him? Is he so lost in his grief & mourning for you that he's imagining you right there? Right here? Right now? How when you call his name— Whether in confusion or in calm delight, it doesn't matter— He's right here infront of you, a few feet away at first, then a few inches & now holding your wrist up to his face. How he slowly rubs his thumb in circles on your skin, your warmth radiating through his glove & into his palm. How he raises your hand closer to his face until you feel his breath hit against & through your fingers. How he presses his lips against your knuckles & just leaves them there for a while & you swear you see tears build in his eyes. How you feel him mumble against your knuckles, though what he says you don't understand, & that's fine, you don't need to comprehend him saying how he'll ensure you never leave him through death again.
How Silver appears stunned in his spot, but just as quick as he froze, his now tackled you to the ground. How his embrace is so hard— So tight— You feel like you can't breathe, you feel like you can't talk because of the lack of oxygen. How after softening his grip & you mutely gasp for fresh air in your lungs do you see the tears in his eyes, rolled down his cheeks & dripping off his chin slightly damping you clothes. How he can't seem to help himself & just peppers your face in kisses, equally as soft & swift as the last. How he's so glad you're here with him! How you'll never leave him again & he can't wait to spend more time with you, how he promises to protect you at all costs, even if it costs him his life, so be it! As long as you're here with him, it doesn't matter.
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comfortless · 5 months
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syl. *grabs you and shakes you* syl. i woke up in a cold sweat thinking of like… könig. already off to a great start ik. but space opera könig. (not like star wars or anything) but think like 70s aesthetics all bright and colorful. he’s a bandit in a stolen ship, formerly part of a military group making peace with other planets but something went awry and he’s just having fun now!
reader is part of a small research group that has landed on a planet he’s camped out on and he’s just like “ok” followed by “i want that”. steals all of her supplies and then her. doesn’t care how much she protests when he just hauls her over his shoulder, pats her butt bc he thinks THATS going to calm her down and throws her into his ship.
she’s happy he’s not some creepy alien but at the same time who really knows what’s under that hood anyway hmmmm and she wants to hate him but also all that’s playing in her head is that one rah band song. messages from the stars lmao please. there is something in the way you write that is so special to me and if you were to come up with a full blown story for my dumb idea i think i would scream for 20 hours straight.
lil wisp….. you have no idea what this has done to me. i am going to be thinking about this for an eternity. let’s cook.. i see your vision and i would love nothing more than this too!!
content/warnings: implied violence, abduction, dubcon groping?
König’s been on his own, drifting through the stars for so long. Only raiding the ships he comes across for food, supplies, and when he stumbles across a mechanic he puts them to work with a silly laser rifle pointed right at their head (because let’s face it— when you’re a wanted space pirate who in the universe is going to fix your ship for you??). He’s put all of human etiquette far behind him, and now his life is quite literally just one relentless adventure. He wouldn’t have it any other way!
That is, until his ship is fucked up again, displaying about thirty bright red warnings on its silly hologram screens that he just can not make sense of. The thing is old, has been shot at more times than even he can count, and it’s finally failing him if the loud sputtering and incessant orbital beeps are anything to go by. He considers his luck has run out when he lands the damned thing on some hunk of rock out on the outskirts of a galaxy most don’t even bother with, because there’s nothing out here.
Thankfully, his frustration is short-lived because a smaller ship lands only a few days later; painted in the bright, pearlescent blues and pinks of your standard peace-keeping, research vessel. It’s the perfect craft to steal and it wouldn’t even be difficult… the three humans that exit are so much smaller than him and entirely unguarded. They’re just here to study a few minerals, maybe haul some back to their little camp a few worlds over for fuel and research. He won’t even get into too much trouble for it, he thinks, because even his trashed ship could take them back home. See!! He isn’t all that bad…
At least, until he notices her, bent over admiring some silly, little cluster of crystals in her skin-tight jumpsuit that makes him see stars. The heavy boots that rise up to her knees making her look like little more than a fauness, and she’s so pretty he just can’t help but get a closer look while her teammates are off chittering away and exploring the nothing planet.
She isn’t even afraid of him when he approaches. Just straightens up with her hands clasped in front of her and a smile on her face. She hasn’t seen the holograms of him, displaying a sizable bounty for his veiled head, doesn’t take a wary note of the massive rifle he has slung over his shoulder; she just sees another person. He hasn’t been looked at like that since long before he left home!!
This sweet woman has no sense of self-preservation either, because she immediately asks him if he needs food or water; gestures over to her brightly colored ship with that pretty smile ever-present on her face, and that’s all it takes for him to decide that not only is he taking the craft, he’s taking her too.
He doesn’t say a word when he lifts her up over his shoulder, and the poor thing must be shocked because it takes her a moment before she starts squirming in his grip. König does well to remove the little radio strapped to her hip, giving her ass a firm squeeze in the process before tossing it in the dust behind him. That’s all it takes to shut his little prinzessin up before he hauls her back into her ship and demands she turn off any tracking systems. Her knees are a bit weak when she fumbles with the control panels, and he’s unashamed of his own erection when he slides in behind her to lean over the console as the ship starts up.
She whines about leaving her friends stranded, of course, but he’s in a world of his own when he grabs her by the hips and seats her in his lap while she pilots. Never mind the others, he’ll take good care of her, honest!!
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johnslittlespoon · 2 months
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Thinking about the exquisite imagery of Bucky shaving his mustache, while in contrast Buck let’s his scruff grow in. I can see it so clearly: Bucky shaves the ‘stach when they’re in the POW camp as a result of losing a bet (it’s highly probable he lost of purpose because he wants to give the men an opportunity to laugh it up). But it totally goes sideways once it becomes clear how young he looks without it. Buck on the other hand is stressing over this new change enough to forget to shave for a few weeks straight. Is this brain rot due to me thinking about Callum’s look in the Green Room combined with Austin’s look in the Bikeriders? Yes. Please send help.
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in case anyone needs a lovely visual! (ʘ‿ʘ✿)
okay, while i PERSONALLY am in love with bucky's stache and feel like shaving it even in fiction would be an absolute travesty, i see the vision and i agree, i could totally see something like that happening.
john does it as a joke/for a bet and figures that hey, they're all gonna be stuck in the camp for a while anyway, chances are it'll grow back by the time it really matters. no big deal, and it gets laughs in a place where those are increasingly rare, even if he has to suffer through relentless teasing about his baby face for a few weeks.
gale does not deal with it nearly as well, however; it throws off any routine he's built and it feels ridiculous because it's just facial hair but it's such a big change after the monotony of day–to–day behind the fence that it's enough to rattle his brain. and letting his own facial hair grow out probably isn't even a conscious choice, almost like a mindless way of falling back into sync with john as both of theirs grows back.
if buckbucky is an established thing in this verse, we all know damn well john would be obsessed with gale's scruff, rubbing his own cheek up against it like a cat, thirsting over it and ogling him 24/7.
and the way it feels against his thighs, stubble burn leaving the sensitive skin a pretty pink when gale's face is between his legs...
john would be devastated and pouty when it comes time for him to finally shave it, but gale would promise him "when we get out, i'll let it grow back for a bit, yeah?" and that would perk him right up. <3
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