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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months

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So I've seen a couple of Demon twin prompts that have Danny and Damien knowing and keeping in touch with each other over the years with the Batfam none the wiser (The funniest being that Damien had Danny go and replace him for a week then the two played it off like it had been happening since Damien was brought to the manor. Another good one had Danny quickly dropping off Ellie with Damien leaving him to introduce Bruce to his granddaughter). How would this play out for you? Would Danny have run with Damien faking killing him, would he have just disappeared from the compound (?) One day?

Their mother had given birth to identical twins. Damien was born three whole minutes before Danny, which shouldn't have mattered much but to the Ra's it meant the world of difference.

Ra's did not want to raise more than one hire. He did not believe in spares or succession struggles. He gave Talia the ultimatum,- pick one twin to raise in their ways and give the other up to a civilian family or lose them both and her status.

Talia will never claim to be an angel. She knew that her heart was cold and wrenched as needed to cleanse the world. She was far too selfish to even consider becoming a civilian away from the league.

It wasn't a bad life, in the end, to become a regular civilian but it was not for her. Ra's had many children who were never deemed worthy of being part of his greater plans. He never mistreated them, but ultimately he ignored them and they grew up not knowing the blood that ran through their veins.

Talia herself knew of six siblings- all different ages and races- that she had seen from a distance. Her father would take her sometimes to see them, to be reminded that unlike them, she was destined for greatness.

They were nicknamed as the Lost by one of Father's past heirs. He had died fifty years before Talia's time but he was known for his surprisingly humorous outlook on life. How Ra could stand it, she will never know.

Sometimes Talia pitted her Lost siblings. They would be outlived by their father- as all of his children thus far have been- but they would never know the waste their lives had become. They would never know the glory of battle, the rush of leading an army, or the satisfaction of successful missions.

They lived in a rose-colored world inside a small fish bowl. Her Lost siblings would never know the vast wonder of the world.

Sometimes Talia envied her Lost siblings. Even though they had no real impact on the world, no real importance, they lived peaceful lives. They grew, made friends, and fell in love without fear of being betrayed. A foolish belief but one that seemed almost blissful.

How light would their shoulders be to not have to carry the weight that Talia has known all her life? Weight to be the best, to be the killer her father required, to allow her son to head to a possible death day after day.

None of them had to worry about their children never returning from a mission like she did. That's why she trained Damian so harshly, why she pushed and pushed until he reached perfection. If she didn't, then Damian would be bested in the field and his death would shatter what little humanity she still held.

She had taken Danny- her sweet youngest boy- to America to entrust him to her Beloved. It was only as she arrived on American soil did she realized that Bruce would not be satisfied with only one twin.

He would do everything in his power to get them both. Despite the years he trained with them, after learning their ways and their mission, Bruce did not approve of the League.

He was powerful enough to succeed in taking Damian as well if she gave him the chance.

Talia chooses to not do so. She instead stopped at the closest city that was miles and miles away from Bruce Wayne. She found Amity Park, a small sleepy town that would never gather much attention let alone Bruce's, and located a couple struggling for a second child.

After her men screened them and after making sure that they were harmless despite their eccentric research into ghosts, she gave the Fentons her Danny in adoption.

When she signed the adoption forms, Danny offically became a Lost sibling. She flew home, and held Damian just a tad bit tighter and longer, allowing only a few tears to fall before shutting away her heart.

She visited him through the years, but never within sight. Danny was unaware of her presence, as he stumbled his way with his life. He was unpopular with his peers, uncoordinated in basically everything, and the idea of him harming anything was laughable.

He had too much of his Father's heart but none of his will.

Talia made the right choose in getting him out. He would not have survived long within her lifestyle.

When her sons turned six, Talia had chosen to take Damian to see his Lost brother. She had two motives for doing so. The first was to show Damian what became of those deemed unworthy. To let him see that he had been given the honor of being the twin to inherit all that the Al Ghuls could offer.

The second was so that Damian could see his brother still lived, even as worthless and meaningless as he did so, he was still alive. He would know nothing of their world but he would still be able to walk through a different one.

She hoped but never voiced that he would find comfort in this and maybe even affection for her foolish Lost brother.

_________________________________________________________

What she was not aware of, was that Damian Al Ghul was just as selfish as she was. Once he saw what he deemed as his there was little in this world that would stop him from owning it.

He believed he was entitled to having a connection with his blood brother so underneath Talia's and the League of Assassins' noses, Damian did just that. He officially introduced himself to Danny when he was eight and told him the truth about their heritage.

Danny welcomed him with open arms. Despite being polar opposites in personality the identical twins were the best of friends. Damian always looked forward to seeing his brother for a short visit whenever the opportunity arose.

Danny was always pleased to host him for a weekend and the Fentons were more than happy to have him over. They may not have been able to adopt Damian but he was just as much their son as Danny was.

Damian just wishes he could return the gesture but if he ever had the Fentons over at Nanda Parbat they would all be dead within the first thirty minutes.

It was best to go to Danny.

Then Damian went to live with Father. It was a rough adjustment and he is not proud of his less-than-optimal reaction to Father's adoptive siblings seeing as the Fentons had proved blood is not required to love a child. It took months of getting used to living there before he was comfortable enough to go visit Danny again.

They spoke every night on the phone, however, since he no longer had to worry about traitorous warriors reporting his contact with a Lost sibling. He told Danny everything about the Waynes, just as Danny told him everything about being Phantom.

They just forgot to tell any of the Waynes about him.

Damian offered to have him over now that he knew Father would never harm his brother, and that the other Wayne children wouldn't kill him either. Danny, ever the most mischievous of the two, had a better idea.

"We could prank the family instead." Danny chirps floating above his bed, headphones in his ear as tries to play videogames upside down. He grins at the screen where Damian stares back at him.

Facetiming Danny can be a bit difficult when his brother has a hard time sitting still.

Damian wasn't strong enough to say no to him.

____________________________________________________________

"Master Bruce" Alfred didn't shout exactly but it was a near darn thing that had everyone in the cave tensing up. They all turned to an older man who was nervously gesturing to a screen. "We seem to have a guest"

They gather around the older man, watching as a teenage boy wearing baggy oversized sleepwear rampages through the kitchen in an ill-fated attempt to make...a sandwitch?

"How did he get in?" Bruce demands at once watching the boy pour himself a large cup of milk. His face was turned away so they couldn't see him clearly but-

"What are you all babbling about? That's not a guest." Damian scoffs after pushing his way to the front of the computers. He waves a hand at the stranger and it is conveniently at that exact moment that he turns around gulping down his milk.

It's an exact replica of his youngest. What in the world?

"Demon Brat" Jason starts slowly, hand reaching for his gun. Bruce would be angry by that, except he's not exactly sure that his son is standing with them now "Who is that?

"Obviously it's Daniel."

"Who?" Dick asks

Here Damian actually pauses looking around at everyone in as close to alarm as Bruce has ever seen him. "Daniel. My brother. Do you all not remember him?"

"Master Damian, this is the first time I have heard of your brother," Alfred stressed, the tone just a tad bit off from being upset. Damian's eyes widen behind his mask suddenly looking rather small.

He stares at the butler like he has never seen him properly nodding his head to the Batcomputer. "Check for yourself."

"I'll do it." Tim offers strolling over. With Babs on vacation with her father, he is the best with computers. He will know if something has been altered. A few clicks on the keyboard was the only sound within the cave as everyone stood around in unease.

A quick hiss between his teeth has Tim announcing. "Demon Brat isn't lying."

There on the multiple screens is proof that for the past four years- since Damian came to live with them- there was Danny. The brother with a medical condition that made being a Bat impossible.

Tim even had a personal folder- one he made but couldn't remember making based on his wonderous expression- titled "Angel Brat". Apparently, he and Danny got on like a house on fire. At least according to the files.

"Are you all quite sure you have no recollection of Daniel?" Damian questioned. His stance is protective, tense in a way Bruce has come to know as his son being nervous.

None of this makes sense. The last time Damian was this nervous was the last large Justice Leauge mission when all hands were on deck to fix the timeline-

Oh No.

"Damian, on the last rank 10 mission of the league you were the only one on the Watchtower when Flash shifted us back. Even Alfred was commanding a tank that day." He states waiting until his son nods in agreement. Around him, everyone was equally tense likely realizing the same thing.

"I was not alone Father. Daniel was with me. I couldn't possibly control all those stations alone."

Of course.

"Damian, I'm afraid the last mission erased Daniel from our timeline. I do not remember him."

His son's eyes practically bug out of his head. He swings around in small circles looking towards the rest of the family. His jaw clenched at their blank expressions.

None of them remembered Daniel either.

"We must inform Daniel at once-"

"No!" Dick shouts, cutting him off. There was a slump in his shoulders as he spoke much less sharply now. "If we do that, there is a chance that Time will try to force his existence out. It could.... erase Daniel completely."

"So what? We just pretend to know the kid? Lie to him?" Steph scoffs,

"Yeah as much as it sucks. I've worked with Bart long enough to know that there is a real danger in telling Daniel the truth." Tim sighs running his hands over his face.

"That's fucking great." Jason sneers, kicking a chair. Duke's hands are curled into tight fists, while Cass is looking at Damian with a sad frown.

Damian sneers at them, fleeing into the showers. Cass is one step behind him. Likely for the best, his eldest daughter has always been the best one to confine into. If anyone can get Damian talking about his feelings without being too pushy, it's her.

Alfred remains silent but his posture is stiff and straight. He is equally as displeased as his more explosive children. Not that Bruce couldn't blame him.

His heart has already shattered a dozen times over once Daniel's files have been brought up. He has forgotten his son. Has lost him in a way as close to death.

He flickers through them with the family. Everyone wants to remember as much as possible. There is so much. Daniel has a heart condition that has him attached to a heart pump, his consistently cold and is rarely strong enough to wander too far away from the manor.

In fact, he seems to collapse a lot like his legs just become intangible. Talia isn't aware he is still alive- Damian broke the rules to get him out of the league before his plan execution due to his condition.

Despite all of this, Danny had the biggest heart out of them. He seemed to be the kind of person with an easy smile, and happy pun waiting. He is so gentle that Tim's nickname "Angel Brat" is not just a mirror of Damian's

And Bruce forgot him.

To make matters worse the cave's elevator dings on, and down it comes Daniel himself. He looks exhausted, likely not used to being up so late but he smiles at them all warmly anyway

"Hey guys! Welcome home!" He greets. He rushes forward, hugging everyone with ease that not even Dick has been able to do. His movements are done so naturally that this must be how he greets them every night.

Everyone lets him and he doesn't seem surprised by the fact they return the hugs.

Bruce feels like vomiting as his youngest- Damian is older- smiles up at him. "Welcome home Dad! Love you."

"I..." His words catch in his throat. Daniel tilts his head confused but Bruce pushes through wrapping his arms around him just as tightly. "I love you too son."

"Tell the others you love them too" Daniel whispers in his ear. "Don't forget that they need to be shown through words and gestures too Dad!"

Bruce stiffens, unsure if he should but he doesn't have enough information to deny Daniel anything. If he suspects something is wrong he may zap himself out of existence. He can't let that happen.

He pulls back from Daniel after a moment, and then without giving the others warning, he reaches for the child closest to him. Jason yelps as he is dragged into Bruce's warm embrace. "I love you, Jason."

"Ugh what?" Jason sounds confused from above him- when did his little boy get so tall?- but he wraps his arms around him too, giving the beaming Daniel a quick glance before he mutters. "Love you too old man."

Bruce turns to Dick who is practically bouncing on his heels, arms held out. He steps into them easily, grunting as Dick squeezes him with all his might. "I love you, Dick"

"I love you too!"

Tim is staring with wide longing eyes over Dick's shoulder and Bruce knows he will have to hug him next. Behind him, Daniel has moved to embrace both Jason and Steph, which triggered a group-wide personal hug.

Even Alfred is there affording hugs and I love yous.

It's.....nice.

_____________________________________________________________

None of the Bats are good enough to read the body launage as Cass is. She saw the mischievous glee her new brother was hiding as he went around hugging everyone.

Damian taps her wrist. "Will you keep quiet of Daniel's harmless jest?"

She smiles. "Funny. They think they can't say no to him. "

"Oh, Dad! Now that you're back can I paint your nails?" Daniel asks loudly. "I have the best black nail polish!"

"....I suppose that is fine."

Damian cracks a smile. "My brother is a menace."

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Demon and Angel Brat #We are going to pretend Talia had them naturally so Danny can be a supirse #The twins prank the Bats #They playing into the whole identical twins with opposite personalities #Where Damian is serious Danny is childish #Cass knowns it's a lie #Babs did all the fake files for them in exchange for all her expenses paid on her vacation #Mulitple Povs

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noosayog · 1 year

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[Said Enough] Suna might have said too much but what's he supposed to do if you won't let him apologize?

wc: 1k

contents/warnings: angst(!!!) to fluff, quick drabble bc my Atsumu exes to lovers longfic isn't writing itself

“Oh,” you say. You stare at Suna and he watches you blink once before the last bit of light in your eyes dies out, irises glazing over.

Shit, he thinks. He’s running after you because he realizes what’s about to happen next.

All that comes out of your mouth is “okay. Um. I’ll just…” you don’t finish that sentence before running to the bathroom and locking the door shut.

He runs after you, but you beat him to it. The door slammed in his face, Suna rests his forehead against the wood and lays a flat palm on the divider between you two. “Baby…”

He doesn’t know what to say. He can hear your sobs and hiccups through the door, frustrated that he’s the cause but can’t get to you.

Scared to death thinking about what giving you your space could mean for the two of you.

“Baby, I’m sorry. Can you please open the door so we can talk?” but he knows it’s a lost cause. It’s been a lost cause since you beat him to the door. Turning around so that his back is against the door, he crumples down to the floor, head buried in his hands.

He should’ve known the second he saw the shutter in your eyes. He should’ve- fuck - he should’ve grabbed onto you to stop you from closing that door and shutting yourself away. He completely deserves to be single after the hurtful things he said to you tonight, and he wants a chance to apologize. Preferably, to your face. But with a literal wall between you two, you now have all night to think about what he said. All night to realize you deserve better. All night to conclude that you should leave him. Nothing scares him more than the look you’ll give him in the morning when you realize how much he doesn’t deserve you.

The rest of the night is spent periodically checking in on you and sending apologies through the walls. Your sobbing eventually quiets down into slow, measured deep breaths and but that brings little comfort. He can only hope you’re peacefully asleep and not awake to gather your thoughts and solidify your breakup speech for him.

–

Suna’s jolted awake next morning when the wall he’s leaning against suddenly shifts. He’s falling backwards as the door slowly opens, revealing your swollen cheeks and red eyes.

As if his nightmares have come true, there’s no uncertainty in your expression. It’s polite and shuttered.

“Rintaro,” you rasp, voice gravelly.

He’s already shaking his head.

“I think we should-”

He can’t let you finish that sentence. If this is the last chance he’s been waiting for, he needs to do something. So he puts both hands on your shoulders, gently, and looks straight into your eyes. It takes a surprising amount of courage to face that foreign look you’re fixing him with, and he realizes how lucky he has been to always be on the receiving end of your warm gaze and easy smiles.

“Please,” he whispers, almost begging. “Give me a chance to say I’m sorry.”

“I think you’ve said enough,” you respond, avoiding his eyes.

“Sometimes,” he starts. “Sometimes, I say too much and I’ll try harder to not do that. But more than that, I don’t say enough. I don’t tell you I love you enough and I don’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you do for me enough. I also don’t say I’m sorry enough but I want to stop doing things that I’d need to apologize for.”

You’re still not looking at him, but your lips are wavering and your eyes are watering.

“But I can’t change last night, so I want to apologize. I’m so, so sorry, baby. I’ll say it as many times as I need to.” As many times as you’ll allow me to.

His heart is palpitating and he can feel his pulse racing so hard, he can feel it through his veins. He wants to clench his fist to channel the nerves elsewhere, but they’re on your shoulders, and after last night, he can’t even think of treating you with anything other than the gentlest of touches. So you can understand how much you mean to him and how much he means to take care of you.

Yes, he didn’t mean any of the things he said last night, but he does mean to treat you well. He only hopes those intentions are enough.

Suna puts a hand on your cheeks and wipes the tears away with his thumbs, fingers lingering. Your tears don’t stop and the hiccups are starting again. You’re shaking your head at him and his heart drops. He hasn’t thought about what he would do if you don’t accept his apology. His voice is shaking a bit as he pleads his case.

“I… don’t want to break up,” the last two words whispered, as if he was scared that saying them aloud would give them power.

You’re sobbing, not saying anything, just shaking your head.

Suna doesn’t know what that means, only desperately hoping that you mean you don’t want to separate either. He throws his arms around you, tightly crushing you against his chest. He squeezes his eyes shut, bracing for impact, and he can hardly believe it when you reciprocate.

“You were so mean to me, Rin,” you blubber.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

“I hate you,” you’re wailing right into his neck now.

“I know, I know. I love you.”

When your sobs finally settle down, you keep your arms around his neck. “Rin, I’m sleepy,” you murmur, nuzzling into him.

He hums, the relief and lack of sleep hitting him all at once. He’s just as unwilling to let you go as you’re unwilling to let him go, so he picks you up by the thighs and takes you to get the sleep you both missed out on last night.

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 26 days

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Rules

Summary: Joel wants you pregnant. And you want to have Joel's baby. And not even a big council meeting would stop the two of you from getting what you wanted.

Pairing: Raider!Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.9k

Rating: E

Warnings: Raider!Joel who has his own little community, smut (public sex, unprotected sex), massive breeding kink, dirty talk, established relationship (kind of), unspecified age gap (around 15 years prob), massive exhibition kink, someone dies because he looks at reader for too long, so guns and death, mentions of drugs, Joel picks reader up and carries her away but this is fiction so Joel has super powers to carry anyone he likes anywhere because I say so

A/N: three fics, four days. I am going to hibernate into my horny jail now. Boop!

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

It was getting dark and he still wasn’t back.

He told you he had the council meeting today, but you were running out of time. Every minute getting you farer away from the window you needed him to hopefully grant him his biggest wish.

Making him a Dad.

According to your calculations your fertile window for the month was closing and you needed him.

Joel and you found each other almost a year after the outbreak. You, alone since you fled your college on outbreak day, stumbling towards the abandoned Ikea store in search of just something to drink or eat, Joel stepping in front of you before you could even reach the door, his hand wrapping around your neck, making you look at him as he questioned what you were doing.

Even years later you felt like he was sent to you from a higher power to safe you.

To feed you.

To own you.

To fuck you.

You became his wife, not even a month after joining his little group, that now was bigger than ever before, people living in all the abandoned department stores around, living under his protection.

You were his only wife, even though he allowed all his men to have as many wives as they pleased.

He was pretty possessive about you, and you over him. Sure, you couldn’t actually do anything against him taking another wife if he wanted to, but he assured you from the beginning that he was a one wife kind of husband.

And he demanded the same in return, not that you had a problem with that.

Joel was known to be a fair but ruthless leader. He had no time for bullshit and he didn’t give second chances.

The power he wielded had become one of your biggest turn ons, fascinated how with a flick of his fingers, his men would dispose of every problem, every person he did not trust.

There weren’t many rules around here.

Listen to everything Joel says.

And don’t look at you the wrong way.

Something that you had to admit was hard when he was fucking you out in the open hallway.

Most of his men knew not to look at you too long, no matter if it was in passing or when Joel was fucking you in front of them.

You would look too, but you weren’t the one who would lose their cock or life for it.

Glancing at the clock you knew your fertile window was closing. He had fucked you twice today already, but you didn’t want to waste more time.

Standing up from the bed you took your clothes including your underwear off, grabbing a wrap dress he had found for you years before, wrapping it around your body. Pulling on some high heels he loved to see you in, looking at yourself in the mirror you gave yourself a small smirk, before you opened the door, waiting for your assigned guard of the day to step away from the door, before you started to walk towards where you knew Joel held his meetings.

„This is becoming a real fucking problem. A problem I pay you for to get rid off. What the fuck is taking so long?“ Joel hissed, his jaw twitching as he sat at the edge of the table, legs wide spread, a glass of whiskey in his right hand.

He had been stuck in this room with twenty of his men and nothing was going according to plan.

It was moment like this he really missed Tess. She’d have this shit done weeks ago.

„More clickers than we planned for. We hope we’ll be done by the end of tomorrow,“ Sam, one of the men who had been with his group the longest assured, and Joel sipped on his drink.

„I want the whole building cleared by the end of the week. Then I want you to extend the outer wall around it. We need more fucking space so we can extend the drug lab. Frank is expecting a new drop by the end of the month in exchange for more ammunition,“ he reminded them.

„I’ll take care of it personally,“ Tommy said, who was sitting to his right, looking at him and Joel gave him a quick nod.

„There are to many fucking assholes trying to get into this settlement. Too many to handle. Might be time to stop for a while,“ one of his other advisors spoke up but Joel wasn’t listening to anything after that, cause he heard the familiar clicking of your heels before the door opened and you walked in.

A vision in purple silk, giving him a big smile as you walked into the room, the men around him staggering to their feet to show you their respect.

„Please, don’t let me interrupt you. In fact, ignore my presence at all,“ you hummed, giving Tommy a quick peck to his cheek before you turned away from the table and straddled Joel’s lap, his hands coming to rest on your thighs.

The conversation behind him opened up again, Tommy taking over while Joel stared at you.

You made quick work of releasing the bow that held your dress together, letting the fabric part, his hungry eyes all over your naked body. One of his hands cupped one of your tits and you smiled at him.

„Whatcha up to baby girl?“ He asked, already hardening in his pants.

„Need you to cum in my wet little pussy again. Need you to fuck it deep inside of me so I can give you your baby,“ you leaned in, nibbling at his earlobe. He groaned as he tilted his head, his eyes closing for a moment as you kissed up his neck, his hands now both under your dress palming your ass roughly.

When his eyes opened he found one of his newer men, Tom, looking at you, his eyes widening for a moment when he saw Joel had caught him, looking away quickly.

„First strike,“ Joel’s voice boomed and you moaned before you kissed him, your hands in his hair, Joel’s eyes on Tom who had had the nerve to look at his wife. At you.

Everyone knew the rules.

They look at you for too long, they die. He had lost a lot of men that way, but he didn’t fucking care.

Your fingers were working on his zipper when the conversation in the room picked up again, one of the other men talking about the greenhouse and what shit they needed in the future.

Boring.

Joel grunted when your fingers wrapped around his cock, helping you pull his pants down a little so you could pull him out of his pants and he leaned down, sucking at you tits.

„You gonna fight our kid for my milk huh,“ you teased and he bit into your nipple, making you moan.

„Gotta get you pregnant first, baby girl,“ he sucked a bruised just above your right tit while you pumped his cock in your fist.

„You gonna make me shoot all my men if you tease me like that one day,“ he grunted, bringing one hand between your legs, three fingers slipping inside of you with ease, a smirk coming to his lips.

„My dirty little whore,“ he whispered against your ear and you gasped, your back arching against him, your dress falling down your shoulders, exposing your naked back to the room.

Not that you cared.

You loved when he fucked you in front of other people.

„Put your little pussy on this cock, baby girl,“ the fingers that had just been inside of you pushing into your mouth as you lifted your ass so you could line his cock up, sinking down on him slowly.

„Fuck baby,“ you moaned and he leaned back in his seat, both of his hands now on your ass as he looked up at you.

„Make yourself cum on this cock and I’ll fuck your ass later,“ he said and you whimpered as you began to ride him. Moving your hips on top of him, your hands on the armrests of his chair for leverage. He slapped your ass, hard, and you cried out.

He watched you satisfied as you fucked yourself on his cock, before his eyes found someone behind you.

„Don’t bother Elijah, his wife is super fucking pregnant. Find me tomorrow morning, and I’ll go,“ Joel said, still clearly listening to the conversation happening in front of him. You clenched around him and he looked at you again.

„You get so fucking wet for me like this. Maybe I should always let you fuck me in my meetings. Would make them a whole of a lot more enjoyable,“ he hummed at you and you smiled.

„You’d loose all your men within a week,“ you grinned, turning your head to look at Tommy.

„Except Tommy,“ you hummed and the man looked at you, giving you a wink.

„Tommy is family. He can look all he wants,“ Joel said and you winked back at Tommy before you focused back on Joel and began to bounce on top of him. The sound of skin slapping against skin and you moans filling the room. Joel played with your tits, pinching your nipple as you clenched around him. He pulled you against his chest, fucking up into you, his mouth against your ear.

„Cum for me and I’ll fuck you on the table. And I’ll let everyone look when I put a fucking baby into your belly,“ he whispered and you moaned loudly as your orgasm washed over you, only realising that he had picked you up and sat you down on the table, when he had pushed your back down against the cold surface and began to drill his cock into you.

„Watch how I fuck my slutty little wife full of my fucking cum,“ he grunted out with every thrust and you stretched your arms over your head, your tits moving with every hard thrust of Joel’s cock into you.

„Joel,“ you moaned, crying out when he slapped your clit.

„Gonna fuck you so full, you’ll be dripping all the way back to our rooms,“ he groaned, his eyes on you.

„Shit baby,“ you whined and he groaned.

„Watch,“ he grunted and you looked down, his cock pumping into you, your cum all over his cock, fucking you so hard the table was moving over the floor.

„Shit,“ he moaned, his thrusts getting sloppier until he twitched and filled you with his cum, pumping it deeply into you.

Still out of breath you gave him a dozy smile that he mirrored, before his eyes darkened, his gun in his hand the next moment, raising it up to shoot someone behind you.

„Inform Tom’s family that he won’t be back,“ he said to no one in particular before he reached for you, helping you sit up. Apparently Tom had in fact not stopped looking at you before Joel gave his permission to look.

He pulled the fabric of your dress back over your shoulders, his softening cock still inside of you, before he picked you up.

„Meeting is dismissed,“ he called over his shoulder, before he carried you back towards your rooms.

Where he fucked you once more to make sure it would finally take.

#my fic #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x fem. reader #Pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #raider!Joel Miller #tlou #tlou fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

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evilminji · 9 months

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:T Hello there, Thought(tm) of the day...

I? Just remembered that Constantine's "Laughing Magician"(?) title is... f*ckin HEREDITARY?

Like?? As in The Constantine Meances have been out here, harrasing divinity and demons alike for GENERATIONS on behalf of a Good Time, the Lols, and probably Humanity if they can be arsed and you make a good case.

W... What chance would there even BE of at least like? HALF those f*ckers(conflicted but affectionate) NOT becoming Realms Ghosts? With the sh*t they're exposed too? With THEIR luck??

You think DEATH can trick them? Take them away for good? Take away the local Rat B@stard, Tricks Gods Just To See If He Can, Fate Is My Second Mistress and I Cuckold Glory On Your Mother's Bed, Constantine?

They run down main street, *ss in the breeze, wearing someone else's shirt and two shoes that don't match, not a stitch else, like run away lovers. Let Death TRY and catch them. Sorry, Luv, it's not them, it's definitely you.

..........I bet they're the wooooorst~~✨️

No joke, I bet they set up a whole *ss TOWN of Constantine.

Where the odds are in THEIR favor, gods fear to tread, and reality straight out stops working right. Like Diagonal Ally for B*stards, extended to a whole floating island. Everyone's related. It's Chaos. They can barely stand each other. Would sell each other for a toothpick.

Mess with ANY off them... and you can kiss your afterlife good bye.

They have NO neighbors because both no ones dumb enough to get NEAR them AND no one can stand to be around that many Constantines at once. The physical Manifestation of Fate wants to take the whole LOT of the handsy F*CKS to court for child support and a restraining order.

Somehow... they keep getting Earth Booze.

They SHOULDN'T have access. It's been anywhere from decade to centuries since they died. Millennium for a few. Howms't The F*CK, do they keep getting cheap gin and vodka? Bourbon and beer? Even the odd fruity cocktail for funnies.

Please... PLEASE! Tell the Zone at large, that their innate birthright powers STOPPED at Death. They... they are just REALLY good at smuggling right? Excellent con men?

Tell us they can't f*ckin PREDICT AND INFLUENCE Natural Portals!!!

*smug sipping noises from a large room full of Dead @ssholes*

Okay... They Won't Tell You~ 🍺🍺🍺🍺🍺 *siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip*

Now! I hear you ask? Why are John's Terrible, Terrible, God Awful Ghostly Relatives relevant? Absurdly powerful as they are... they seem to take the afterlife as an extended "Ha! GET F*CKED, DEMONS WHO WANTED MY SOUL!" Vacation/Family get together.

Minded their business and expected everyone to mind THEIRS, or ELSE.

Didn't give two solitary SH*TS that Pariah woke from his little nappy-poo to cause a tantrum. After all, in their family? When DOESN'T some "great and terrible Power That Be" get itself in a snit? Meh... it's baby Johnny's turn to clean sh*t up. Best of luck to 'im~!

But THEN!

They must've been drinking... making out with their equally terrible and bamf trainwreck significant others... sitting around playing "who can cheat best at cards"... when? Huh.

Never seen the Fate and The Odds... STRANGLE like that.

Billions of billions of What-Ifs, Maybes, Could-bes, and more... suddenly YANKED towards a single spot. The allowance of Only One Outcome. Almost like what they can do, but... not, WRONG, per say...

Just... impossible.

There's NEVER.. JUST one way this plays out. You can control the big notes. The script. But the details and set dressing will always decide themselves.

NO ONE can just... Decide What Will Happen. And yet?

...............was....... was that Little Johnny? Has to be. Right? Where's his old man? Oi! Was that your Kid??! John's closest relatives are baffled. Nope. They can still feel him laying a beat down on some demon in Norway. So then? Who?

How?

Well mark them CURIOUS(tm).

They decide to actually get up. Put their various drinks and cards down. Put pants on. Somebody's done something... INTERESTING(TM) and they want to know what's up. So? Off they trot.

It's traumatizing for everyone who sees them. The Constantines have breached f*ckin B*stard Containment and are spilling into the Zone. On this! The DAY Pariah Waged A War! THEY JUST GOT RID OF HIM!

And Danny? His everything hurts. The Eyeballs are starting to come out of the woodwork and ARGUE about him like he's not even there. He's DANGEROUS blah blah blah. Give them the crown. Right now! Etc etc.

Somethings telling him not too.

It's... it's HIS isn't it? Has been for centuries and seconds. And... and... everyone one of him is King. There is only one of him. The Zone covers all the multiverse and all of the Hims that were and aren't here and helped and... and...! His head is starting to hurt.

But the more they try to push him to hand it over, the less he feels like unhanding the dang gaudy thing. No. His now. He'll use it as a DOOR stopper if he dang well feels like it! Stop yelling.

Then all these blonde ghosts saunter in... and all he can think is "F*ck. I think they noticed."

Huh?

@stealingyourbones @cyrwrites @bjurnberg @the-witchhunter @hdgnj

#dc prompt #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #john constantine

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neo-nomatrix · 11 months

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Rule No. 19

never fall in love with the same person twice, the second time you’ll be falling in love with the memories not the person.

Miguel O’hara x reader

word count: 1056

synopsis: You were Miguel’s wife in another universe and he just can’t come to terms that you’re not his.

a/n: i know a lot of people are asking for part twos of my other stories but i just can’t think of anything 😭

Your death was a horrible day for Miguel. He easily blamed himself for what had happened to you. Shot twice by a random mugger off the side of the street. And he, Spiderman of all people, couldn't save you. How could he even call himself a hero after that? He held your lifeless body in his arms as he came to terms with the incident.

Miguel wouldn’t allow your killer to get away. Chasing him down the block, cornering him in an alley and slowly, almost torturing, beat the life out of him. Miguel tore at his skin with his claws, used all his strength to break his teeth, and practically ripped off the man’s hand from the wrist.

Miguel so desperately wanted him to feel pain he would do anything. But that wouldn’t bring you back, and he knew that.

Miguel had fallen in love with you for many reasons. You were beautiful, smart, funny, and the kindest person he had ever met. He knew that if you saw the person he was now you would not have fallen in love with him. When he looks at himself in the mirror he doesn’t see the man he once was, he doesn’t see the man you loved but a distorted ugly image of that man.

He knew he had changed for the worse but truthfully he didn’t care. If changing meant he got what he was after he didn’t care how it made him look.

The first time Miguel found you in another universe he was ecstatic. You had a family, a beautiful daughter and a life worth being a part of. “Your” Miguel had recently died and he thought he could replace him.

“Oh, I'm so glad you’re home. I was starting to get worried,” You kissed your husband as he walked through the door.

“Im here,” Miguel whispered as a response.

He didn’t know what to do. You were there, in front of him. Alive.

He pulled you in for the strongest kiss he had ever given you. You were slightly shocked but melted into the kiss with such love. Failing to see the tears building up in his eyes.

You were happy, so happy. Until the day it all came crashing down on him. Your world started to collapse within itself, Miguel felt like Atlas trying to hold up the universe on his shoulders. He didn’t know what to do, he was lost. Running from an inescapable situation with you and your daughter. You fell to your knees as you were running. You were glitching. Slowly, in the most painful way he could imagine both you and your daughter disappeared from his arms.

For the second time Miguel lost you, and it was his fault. From then on he vowed to only watch you from afar.

“She isn’t yours, Miguel,” Jess reminded him for what? the tenth time today?

“I know that Jess,” he practically rolled his eyes at her.

“Y’know it’s creepy. You’re basically stalking this girl who has no idea you exist. There are just some things you have to let go,” She offers her advice.

Miguel clenches his jaw at her words.

“I don’t need a therapist, alright? I’m fine dealing with this,” he says.

He’s had enough of Jess and her advice for today. Even though he won’t let himself interfere he can’t help but watch you from the rooftops. He agrees that it’s creepy but he can’t let anything else bad happen to you, he just can’t.

From everything telling him not to, he swings down to try and get closer to you. He enters the coffee shop you just went into. He doesn’t know why. He shouldn’t be here behind you in the long line. It’s not right. He’s about to turn before he’s greeted with your sweet voice. Your voice that sounds like honey and all the good things on this planet and the next.

“Hey, sorry to bother you, but I was just wondering what you usually order? I’ve never been here before and I'm sort of lost,” you giggle. God, he could melt on the spot.

He knows you're lying, of course. He’s seen you in here more times than he can count. And you always get the same exact thing, every single time. In fact, you refuse to get anything different. He wants to believe you’re asking him as a way to flirt but he can’t get attached, not again.

“Oh uhm, i usually get their vienna latte,” His eyes flick up to the first thing on their menu, never having gone to this shop himself.

“And then their bear claw,” if there’s one thing he noticed about you it’s that in every universe you love a bear claw with your drink.

“Great! I’ll get that then!” You smile happily as the barista asks for the next person in line.

He didn’t realize how in love with you he really was until he spoke to you all these years later.

“Do you maybe want to sit down together? I know a park nearby,” You approach him after both of you have gotten your drinks.

“I’d…” he trails off remembering Jess’ words. He can’t, he shouldn’t, no matter how much he wants to. “I don’t think I can. I’m really sorry,” he feels horrible after seeing the look on your face. He wants to crumble up into a million pieces seeing you disappointed like that.

“No worries then. It’s okay,” you smile kindly at him. A clear tinge of sadness in your voice.

You walk off leaving him there unsure of his choice. Would one conversation really do anything? Would it tear the world apart like last time? Was he willing to risk it just to talk to you again?

The truth was yes, he was absolutely willing to risk everything for the chance to have you fall in love with him again. But he couldn’t do that to you. He stands there, heartbroken for a third time.

Even though he loves you he’s well aware you’re not his, not really. He knows that if he were to fall in love with this version of you it would be compensation for what he had lost. He would simply be trying to recreate something he couldn’t have.

Miguel loves you, but he can’t have you.

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x you #marvel x reader #spiderman x reader smut #spiderman x y/n #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderman atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara

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wandaslittlelove · 1 month

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Destined - Part 0

Warnings: Cheating, mentions of death

The rain poured as I stared out the window. It had been almost two weeks since I had seen Wanda and about a month since my sister had sacrificed herself for a stone.

When I came back from the blip it felt like seconds had passed but really it had been five years. In those five years my sister was alone. Grieving my loss. Then when I came back and found out she was gone I was grieving hers. It seemed as if neither of us could ever get a happy ending.

Being devastated by the loss my immediate thought was Wanda. Was she okay? Where is she? But I knew it all had to wait for after the battle against Thanos. I saw Wanda many times on the battlefield and tried to go to her but each time she would move away from me.

After the battle I sat in front of Tony Stark. The many who had been like another sibling to me for years. He was gone. I held Peter's crying figures in my arms that day as he cried for his mentor. Yet another family member had been taken from both of us.

Tony’s funeral is the last time I’ve seen Wanda. The last time I held her in my arms and the last time I was held in hers. I was told she stole Vision's body and had taken over a town called Westview to create her Perfect family.

I was devastated at hearing this. First my sister dies, then Tony, and now Wanda has run off with the corpse of a man she had always reassured me she never liked.

So I moved. I stayed in the compound as I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Natasha's room had become a safe haven along with the gray tabby.. A little gray tabby that enjoyed cuddles. Cinder was her name and she was the one thing that was currently keeping me grounded.

That was until Wanda came bursting through my front door with rain dripping down her body. A Pained expression on her face as she held her side. We both said nothing as I moved to quickly inspect her injury and when I saw it was just a couple of bruised ribs I let out a sigh of relief.

She was the one that talked first. She told me of Westview and how a woman named Agatha Harkness came for her magic and that's how she got the bruises. She told me of her boys, Tommy and Billy, and how they were the perfect kids. I listened silently as my ex Fiance told me all about the fantasy life she had created with a Robot. And I said nothing as she told me that she missed me. Nothing as she told me why she did it. And once again Nothing as she told me of the countless nights she spent with the man I had always been insecure about.

“So I just came to say that it would work out better if you stopped loving me. I’ve done so many things to hurt you. I cheated on you for two years. So please forget me.”

“So I'm not allowed to love you anymore?” I asked with my head turned away from wanda. Ever since Westview was created and she chose vision instead of me we had been arguing non stop.

“That's not what I'm saying!” I look at Wanda with a stone face not wanting to show her how much she's hurting me.

“Really? Because I believe the words ‘it would work out better if you stopped loving me’ mean that.” Wanda looks at me annoyed before she speaks

“I'm just saying it would be easier”

“For who? Me or you” the silence from wanda is all the information I need. With a scoff I pick up my bag before walking to the front door.

“Knowing that you chose a robot over your fiance really says a lot about you Wanda. You created a whole life with someone you had claimed to barely know while I was grieving the death of my sister. And when it all came crashing down you run back to me. I don't want that. I don't want you. I stopped loving you as soon as you ran into his arms” as i exited the place that had once been my home the tears had finally started to fall. Although they weren't out of sadness.

I was free. Finally free…or that's what I thought 4 months ago.

Until suddenly Wanda was trying to kill a child for her magic. Until Dr. Strange came to my door asking for help. And Until I found out our destinies would forever be linked.

Taglist: @alexawynters @username23345 @casquinhaa

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diamondsunbursts-and-marblehalls · 5 months

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Coriolanus Snow's character is so fascinating to me.

At the movie's beginning, he is just this sweet boy, just trying to protect his family, keep them alive, and protect his tribute and keep her alive. And you adore him, and you're rooting for him; by the time you get to the end of the movie, he's slowly twisted everything around, until suddenly, he's not the person you thought he was, and even though you saw glimpses of that person, he's gone now, and you don't like what's left.

The thing I love is that you can see the inner fight that was there all along, the darker side is represented a lot by how Coriolanus is similar to his father and connects back to his past. He gives up pieces of that person throughout the games where Lucy Grey is his tribute, sacrificing them in the form of a handkerchief (a piece of his dad) that has the potential to implicate him in a crime that would cost him his life, but also the potential to grant Lucy Grey hers. You can see it in the way he gives her his dead mother's compact full of rat poison. In the way he cheats to save her, even with the knowledge that he won't gain anything from it. You can see it in the way that he lets her in on secrets he's guarded so fiercely from his capital friends. Living in a world where he has almost no control.

He also has close zero regard for the people in the arena with whom he has no connection. He convinces a classmate to help kill her tribute to save his, and he tells Tigress he felt powerful killing a little boy (a feeling she connected back to his dad). Things that grow smaller in comparison to his love for Lucy Grey, the affection he shows for Sejanus, the way he cares for his family, and the relationship he has with Tigress.

It's in the second part of the movie that things start to go awry. he gets his father's handkerchief and his mother's compact back. along with those pieces of himself. His hair is buzzed, and he's shipped away from his family, who were the original motivation for everything, most importantly the motivation behind befriending Lucy Grey. He has nothing. Seajanus ends up joining him and they go together to District 12, where he has even less control than he did before.

Coriolanus stands by while an innocent man hangs. He holds Sejanus back from stopping it to keep him safe. He gets in a fight with Lucy Grey's cheating ex. His best friend gets him out. He gives Lucy Grey the last piece of his parents he has with him. He gives the girl he loves all of his trust. He betrays Sejanus to the capital. He tries to protect his best friend. He kills a woman, putting them all in danger. He killed her to keep them safe. It's his fault Sejanus hangs for treason. His best friend cries for him right before he dies. He runs away with Lucy Grey to keep himself safe. He runs away with his lover so they can be together. He lies about Sejanus's death, so Lucy Grey leaves him. He lies about his best friend's death, to keep his love with him.

He abandons his friend and is abandoned by his lover because of it. He breaks trust, and so his trust is broken.

He gets all the pieces of himself back with his mother's shawl Lucy Grey leaves for him to find.

He had so many opportunities to be good, and you could see that he was fighting against the worst part of himself. And yet, you can also see him fighting less and less as time goes on, eventually, once he gets all of the pieces back he stops fighting. He goes back to the capitol, prepared to do whatever it takes to gain control. He's not a victim of circumstances or his childhood, Tigress proves that. But he is a victim of the choices he had to make.

Coriolanus Snow is such a complex character, who is shaped by his own choices, and the people in his life, who he can never really escape, the echoes of which will follow him throughout his whole life.

#I have so many thoughts banging around in my head right now #coriolanus snow #The ballad of songbirds and snakes #lucy gray baird #sejanus plinth #tbosas #president snow #sejanus deserved better #the hunger games #tigress

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bitchfitch · 2 years

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ok imagine this. You live in a kingdom and the king dies by choking on his own spit or whatever, and the only heir to the throne is the kings step son that his wife had by fucking a bull, and who was locked away in the giant murder maze, ok. Normal stuff so far.

Now Imagine that rafter the kings death a new non minotaur ruler was chosen to be king. A reasonable decision given that the actual heir eats people and loves murder. Coronation day comes and this new king is struck by lightning so many times that there is no corpse left behind. Ok, so the gods said no to that guy, the state thinks. And so they try again.

And the next guy is gored to death by a boar seconds before he can be crowned (nobody is sure where the boar came from, probably the same place as the lightning). and the state say ok! that one was a mistake, and they're all a little sweaty now, nervously looking between eachother because they know who the gods want on the throne. They know the gods sense of humor.

So they say ok, One more! and they go and find the bravest most noble hero and ask that He be king, and he is gored to death by the bull that fathered the prince. And they all sigh and start planning how to get the giant murder monster out of the giant murder maze.

And shenanigans do occur but they occur within the walls of the murder maze until Finally the prince emerges and everyone collectively sucks in a breath between their teeth because Fuck he is hot. Big fucker with battle scars and a Lot of muscle. guy looks like he can crush a man's head in one hand.

Ok, and he's crowned king. He sits his throne and everyone expects things to immediately go to shit. That the big murder monster would start demanding sacrifices or take ultra aggressive policies or something else. But no, the big bull man is actually a really good king. Focussing on protecting his people and ensuring resources are shared between them. When one noble or another offers him riches or tries to sway him to less noble rulling styles that benefit them and not the lower classes he pops their heads like grapes in his big meaty hands.

Great King ok. Seems real unhappy but is otherwise reasonably competent and happy to delegate responsibilities to people more suited than him. Great King.

So then one day he gets this cat. Ok, it's a sphinx, the sort that tell riddles and have wings not the sort you need to put little sweaters on to keep them from getting cold. And it's from the murder maze, and it's clearly his favorite person. They mock fight a lot in the arena and multiple scholars have been hired to come up with puzzles and problems difficult enough to be entertaining to this weird cat. Ok, normal stuff.

And then you here that the cat and the king have fled the castle. Back to the murder maze for the sole reason that they both like it more than being royalty. And now that the king has a sphinx helping him the two are basically impossible to catch. So, instead of trying to catch Them the state orders as many monsters slaughtered until the king comes back to save his monsters. And the king does. and after much deliberation it is decided that the king would rule from within the maze. ok, all normal so far.

So a party is held in the King's honor and he has the sphinx (a creature you aren't sure is 100% a person) declared Queen at the party. Which, what ever, all normal.

So you go to this party this big beautiful gilded event held within the maze and by sheer chance you run into the sphinx queen. and it looks at you, and smiles and asks "Do you know of the philosopher who goes by Ligma?"

The plan with the ligma joke was that they knew this party would almost exclusively be attended by stuffy nobles who were all some level of scared of the both of them. Because they had both killed people in front of most of the folk there. Their friend, an alchemist/philosopher was also going to be in attendance. They knew she would give a funny enough answer to satisfy the 'riddle' and so would win the contest to be their heir. Aetius is a shit. It doesn't care to come up with actual riddles, they're all some level of insult or ligma style joke.

secondary edit: Reblogs are going back on bc my desire to ligma people is greater than the irritation I was dealing with + the original rb chains of this are thoroughly dead, probably.

edit: turning off reblogs bc some of y'all don't know what original content is and it's getting annoying. This was a direct summary of my OC's story but from the perspective of someone who did not see it. The sphinx's name is Aetius. Its not a woman, the minotaur is Serapis. Aetius was named queen when it and Serapis married, because as the eldest child of a queen(mother cat) it was technically legally qualified to be a queen(monarch) when it married Serapis. because the law books didn't say Anything about what kinds of queens did or did not count for that. The next step of their plan was to point out they are both male. They can't produce an heir and obviously since they're married now they would have to use the clauses regarding infertility to pick an heir.

Anyways the final step of the plan was that as soon as she gave her answer she would be crowned their heir, and then they would graphically, and publicly, gore eachother to death. so that they could death warp to the center of the maze because neither of them want to be royalty, they want to fuck nasty, be nudists, and kill stuff in the giant murder maze.

Since they died, and nobody outside the maze knew the monsters could death warp, and they already had a 100% legally named heir, they successfully legal loopholed their way out of having to be royalty.

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physical-manifestation-of-spite · 12 days

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I keep thinking about Arthur's regression at the end of Season 2 and then into Season 3. I keep thinking about how victims of trauma tend to get worse once they escape their traumatic situation. How their body and mind start to crack and shake under the weight of the horrors, now safe enough to escape the survivorship mindset but now forced to endure the fallout.

I keep thinking of how hard Faroe's death hit Arthur. How his guilt and grief were so intense that he wanted to kill himself, so low that he drank himself into a stupor for who knows how many years to just dull the pain. I keep imagining how hard it was to pull himself out of that, to work with Parker and find a new meaning in life, to walk away from his guilt of killing his daughter, and instead to help people.

(I keep thinking of how Arthur finds a vial of alcohol in the Dreamlands. How he sniffs it and recoils in disgust.)

I keep thinking of how long it took for Arthur to build himself back up from his lowest point, to tuck the guilt of Faroe in the deepest corner of his mind just so that he has enough room to breathe, to live, to be a better person. (And yet, Faroe is every facet of his life. It's his first memory in Season One, when he plays Faroe's Song, when he doesn't even remember his own name. It's the last name on his lips when he dies on that boat. It's his only memory when John is torn away from him.) I keep thinking about how Arthur is consciously repressing her every second of every day just so that he can keep going.

And then John pushes, and asks, and asks again. And finally, after almost dying twice with this entity, after surviving time and time again, he thinks he can trust him. He thinks he can share his deepest secret, to pull open the wound he keeps stitching over to protect himself. How he risks feeling the grief he's suppressed for years to trust someone. I keep thinking how John seizes it and, because he is ancient and young and inexperienced, childlike in his tantrums and his fears of responsibility and consequence, he uses it as a weapon the moment he's backed into a corner. I keep thinking of how not only the trust is torn away from Arthur, but how his wound is stretched and torn, and not only does his guilt and grief come back, but it's like a tidal wave that he cannot suppress this time. He's opened that wound and John has pried it wider, and now Arthur can't shut it. He survives in those pits, but she is all he thinks of. He escapes those pits, and ("Goodbye, Faroe.") she is all he thinks of. He slits his throat and she's all he thinks of.

He enters at icy cabin (a small gurgle, a bundle of blankets in his arm, a warm hum rumbling in his chest as he lulls his whole World to sleep) and he thinks of her to keep going.

And then Yellow enters, a blank slate, a John before he was John, and the pain is too fresh. This is the thing that tortured him. This is the thing that starved him. This is the thing who asked who his daughter was, and when he told him, the thing called him a killer. John and Yellow and the King are all the same in that moment, and Arthur's too fucked up and traumatized to separate them tangibly, as much as he insists that he can. His hatred grows and grows, all from himself, until it bleeds into Yellow, and he remakes this entity in his image, in his self-pitying hatred.

So when Yellow finally calls him a monster (and Arthur knows, he's called himself that the moment he saw the water spill from the bathtub onto the tile below), Arthur holds it close to his chest, and becomes it.

#fuck twitter's limited character amount #so i came here #season three has actually fucked me up #i genuinely thought season three would be my least favorite season when I first listened to it because I was still grieving over john #and then it became my favorite #it's such a great look into ptsd #malevolent #spiteful musings #meta analysis #malevolent podcast #arthur lester #john doe #malevolent john

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hanlimz · 4 months

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[midnight thoughts: jungwon + the sublime]

synopsis: after an arduous battle, jungwon isn't sure if he's going to make it, but he has to say something before he goes. pairing: yang jungwon x gn!reader genre/warnings: spiderwon!au, angst with happy ending / mentions of blood, discussions of death, overall angsty themes but no one actually dies!, lots of confessions of love, and weird inclusion of "the sublime" bc we talked abt it in my eng class, also NOT proofread :,) wc: ~2.4k (haha OOPS) a/n: heyyyy how yall doin :))))) this has been sitting in my drafts forEVER ... and i finished it at 1am b4 my first day of school so be warned for inconsistencies / i liked the first half of this drabble but the second half is not my fave ,, so sorry that i couldn't do you justice spiderwon

yang jungwon never believed in the concept of the sublime. that uncanny mixture of overwhelming fear and unsettling fascination never managed to make an impression on him. especially in his line of work, jungwon is firm in his notion of death: when the time comes, a vast blackness will consume him; the void will leech away his life, and he will cease to exist. there will be no theatrics, no white light, no booming voice or angel song—only a comforting emptiness welcoming him into the dark.

now, however, jungwon lies alone in a familiar back alley; the tips of his fingers are numb from the amount of blood he's lost, and he can hardly lift his head up from the brick wall it's resting on. the palms of his hands are stained a deep crimson as he attempts to stop the river of red spilling from his thigh. jungwon admires the eerily beautiful way in which the body lets go; glinting in the dim street lights, his wounds glitter like rubies in a summer sunset. at this point, succumbing to his injuries seems inevitable, and jungwon thinks there may be some truth to be found in sublimity.

but, he's not ready to die. not yet—not with so many things left undone, so many things left unsaid.

with the little strength he has left, jungwon reaches for his backpack hidden in the nook behind the dumpster. he pulls out his phone and dials a number number he knows by heart; his cold fingers fumble over the screen, and he curses his current lack of dexterity. eventually, though, the machine begins to ring. the sound grates on his ears as he waits with bated breath for you to pick up.

"hello?" you croak, your question laden with sleep, "who is it?"

a breathy chuckle escapes jungwon's lips. he had forgotten how late it was, how you mentioned earlier that you had a calulus exam tomorrow, and just how gorgeous you sounded when you were tired. "sorry, [y/n] ... didn't mean to wake you," jungwon sighs, "just wanted to hear your voice."

"won, seriously?" you scoff, "this couldn't have waited 'til tomorrow? i mean, it's—it's two in the morning ... i was literally just dreaming about acing that calc test."

a dopey grin fastens itself to jungwon's lips as he wills his eyes to stay open. if he falls asleep, he knows there's a possibility that he won't get back up; so, he indulges for a bit, listening to your fatigued grumbling and smiling like an idiot. "honestly, m'not sure if tomorrow's in my cards, [y/n]," he admits, trying to hide how labored his breaths are becoming, "'nd i jus' wanted to hear you one last time."

"yang jungwon, what the hell are you—" jungwon knows exactly when you realize he's in trouble. he knows exactly when you realize he's not messing with you. the abrupt pause, the hitch in your breath, the way you inhale through your teeth—it's almost too obvious. "oh fuck," you continue, "oh shit ... won, where are you? are you hurt? what can i do to help?"

jungwon coughs out a laugh, "'m in the alley off jackson ave, 'nd i think i've bled on every piece of old furniture back here, if that says anything."

your breathing is frantic. jungwon listens to the sound of rustling clothes and the occasional thud of your foot as it hits your bed frame. you're cursing and mumbling and unravelling at the seams, searching for whatever you can that might help you help jungwon. out loud, you go through a list: gauze, neosporin, saline.

"am i missing anything?" you ask, not expecting a response.

"bandages?" jungwon replies.

"bandages!" you exclaim, "i almost forgot the fucking bandages?" there's more noise on the other side of the phone, and jungwon doesn't let himself relax until he hears your window crack open. metal clangs as you rush down the fire escape; he wills the beating of his heart to match the tempo of your feet against the steps. jungwon wills himself to stay alive. and, it's almost as though you can read his mind through the phone. "don't you dare fall asleep, yang jungwon. talk to me about something—anything—just don't fall asleep."

he racks his brain for a topic of conversation; the nerves building in his stomach as he anticipates next week's orgo exam, the cat he rescued from a tree in queensbridge park earlier today, the new thai restaurant that opened up near his apartment building. options race through his mind, but all of jungwon's thoughts lead back to you.

"i love you," jungwon says, abrupt yet resolute.

"oh god." you suck in an incredulous gasp, "you're delirious. this is—"

"i'm not delirious," he interrupts, voice hauntingly clear. "i know what i'm saying. and, i'm saying that i love you, [y/n] [l/n]."

for a moment, the line crackles with a thick, viscous silence that seeps through the grainy static; it's heavy, almost too real, and jungwon listens to the sound of your shoes slamming against the pavement until you speak again. "okay," you sigh, something unreadable swimming behind your words, "keep talking to me, jungwon."

jungwon takes in a deep breath before speaking again. his whole body is cold now, and if it weren't for the weakness spreading throughout his veins, he's positive his teeth would be chattering. inhaling the concoction of gasoline fumes, freshly dumped trash, and frigid, autumn air, jungwon feels the chill of the reaper creeping up the length of his spine. its spindly fingers beckon him into that same darkness he was once so sure of, once so okay with. but, jungwon can't let himself give in to its temptation. after all, he has someone waiting for him.

"you give me this feeling," jungwon declares in an inexplicable moment of lucidity, "'nd i dunno how to explain it. it's—it's like ... i look at you, and you pull me in. an invisible string, maybe? fate? true love? i'm—i have no idea what to call it. you always make me want to know more, even though i've known you forever. since we were kids, [y/n]—i've felt like this for years. and, i'm sorry. i'm sorry for not telling you earlier, for not telling you when i told you about the whole spiderman thing.

"i'm such an idiot for making you worry. someone who loves you shouldn't do that to you, i shouldn't do that to you. and, god [y/n]—i love you so much. you're this force of nature, you know? drawing me in, even though it's dangerous. and, even though i'm terrified of what the consequences might be, i love you so much that i'm afraid to die without saying it at least once.

"i'm—i'm so sorry for being so stupid, because—" jungwon whispers with a shaky voice, teetering on the edge of consciousness, "i love you, [y/n]. i love you."

jungwon's hearing is fading in and out, and his vision is growing blurry; but, the sounds of your footsteps accompanied by the incessant drone of his phone keeps him from slipping into that overwhelming darkness. you take in a sharp breath, and his head lolls in your direction. jungwon's lips are molded into a mindless, faraway smile; his eyes are misted over, foggy with both pain and fatigue. he's not all there, but he still manages to be cheerful. it astounds you.

rushing over to begin applying all the first aid supplies you managed to stuff into your backpack. wound-wash, gauze, bandage, wound-wash, gauze, bandage, wound-wash gauze bandage, wound-washgauzebandage. the sheer amount of blood that has been leeched from his body makes you dizzy; your head is spinning as you try to calculate just how many pints would be equal to what you've just sopped up. glancing up at your best friend (crush? lover?) you see that his eyes have drooped shut. his skin is pallid, his lips are pale, his neck is craned at an awkward angle as it rests on his shoulder. and, your heart stops because you didn't get to say it back.

"no. no, no, no ... won—jungwon, wake up!" a storm brews in your stomach. it starts as a mellow rain pattering against the lining of your intestines, then becomes a raging tempest as it bubbles up and out of your throat. "please, please, please! i got here in time, i swear—i never cared about the stupid, fucking calc test! i cared about you, i care about you! and, i'm here now, so you can't leave. you can't leave me."

an inhuman shriek claws through your lips, ricocheting against the brick walls that seem to be caving in around you; the weight of the world crashes into your frail shoulders, threatening to crush you. as you inch even closer to jungwon's shrouded figure, your pants are soaked through with a crude mixture of blood and rainwater. you reach out for him and cup his cheek with a trembling hand, and part of you swears his skin is still warm to the touch.

but, hope has no place here.

instead, you cradle his head and heave his body to rest against yours. he is astonishingly heavy; you can feel his muscles ripple beneath the tips of your fingers, but you're already convinced. your best friend is dead. slowly, the cement will absorb his heat, and he will grow cold. as the morning draws nigh, you will be forced to put his mask back on and leave him for someone else to find. then, the news articles will pour in, and the city will have stolen not only his life, but his death as well. tears are wetting his scalp as you bury your nose into his sweat-caked hair. you're gripping at his suit so hard you think the threads might snap, and the throbbing in your head is nothing compared to the agony in your heart.

the wailing doesn't stop until, in your peripherals, you see his finger twitch. sucking a staggering breath through his nose, jungwon cracks open a tired eye to gaze up at you. "i would—" he coughs out with a wince, "i would never leave you."

in your stupor, his voice doesn't register first. his mouth moves, but no sound escapes him; then, the words play over again in your mind while his lips remain closed. seconds melt into minutes, and you float away from your body. a numbness overtakes you as you stare at the scene before you from about five feet away; your fingers are still clutching at the suit fibers, the pajamas you chose earlier tonight are now saturated with blood, and jungwon is breathing. jungwon is breathing. jungwon is breathing.

snapping back into yourself, you place a weak hand on his chest. steadily, certainly—it rises and falls; the beating of his heart, though shallow and slow, thrums beneath your palm. shifting your stare to his face, you are greeted once again by a familiar, wry smile. jungwon is alive. despite all odds, the boy you love is alive; and, try as you might, you can't really help yourself.

"[y/n]?" he croaks, quirking the eyebrow above his less swollen eye, "can you hear—"

"i love you, too."

the utterance dangles precariously in the frigid midnight air. jungwon's lack of response causes your stomach to churn until he relexes further into your frame, huffing out a pained laugh. he lets himself rest for a moment, relishing in the warmth he manages to leech from your skin. "it wasn't ... wasn't supp—supposed to happen like this, you know?" jungwon protests, voice catching on his fatigue and discomfort. "i ... had everything planned—planned out."

"won, you don't—"

baring his teeth, he lifts a hand to hold the one you kept on his chest and barrels through your objection. "i was gonna take you to the met ... gonna take you for a pic—a picnic in central park." jungwon sputters, pressing his forehead against your upper arm, "then, we would swing ... back to your apartment. 'nd, i was gonna tell—tell you. tell you about how i feel."

still supporting his neck with your arm, you move to take his face in your palm once more. jungwon's gaze is sharper than it was just minutes ago—more focused, more alert. the emotions swirling in those deep pools of raw umber are more multitudinous than the stars they reflect. gratitude, torment, joy, defeat, love. bridging the gap that had separated the two of you for so long, you stop just shy of his lips. a dynamic heat emanates from them; jungwon is practically vibrating under your touch, living and breathing.

"are you okay?" you ask, "is this okay?"

jungwon answers by pushing himself up—closing the distance, sharing your breath, connecting your souls. salt and iron dance on his tongue as your tears mingle with his blood. it's a hypnotizing concoction—one that threatens to send him reeling, one that threatens to have him spinning out with no hope of return. fireworks explode behind his eyelids, a myriad of bright reds and vibrant oranges blinds him, and jungwon uses what is left of his strength to grip your wrist; he grounds himself and allows his lungs to burn as he breathes you in.

after a while, however, your parting is instinctual as the lack of oxygen forces you apart—two bodies trying to preserve themselves long enough to meet again. with a labored sigh, jungwon slumps backwards and tucks his chin to catch your gaze. in that moment, he finds himself frozen; his essence is suspended motionless, positively bewitched by you. in the silence, where all he can sense is you, jungwon embraces the ever-present warmth that has flourished within him. it floods his being with a terrifyingly powerful adoration for you. it is nothing like he has ever felt before, and though he is brave enough to confess, this extent of his love for you—it scares him.

however, as your skin glows in the light of the moon and your eyes pool with the desire for a future with him, jungwon digs his feet in and roots your love deep within his heart. he refuses to let this fear grow in its place; instead, he vows to nurture it, to care for it, to protect it. as he lies in your arms, jungwon rejects the sublime once more and chooses for himself.

"i love you, [y/n]," he whispers into your palm.

the world seems to go quiet as it listens for your response.

"i love you, too, jungwon."

#enhypen fluff #enha fluff #jungwon fluff #enhypen headcanons #; — cass writes: jungwon #enhypen #jungwon headcanons #jungwon imagines #jungwon reactions #enha scenarios #enha imagines #enha angst #enhypen angst #enha x reader #jungwon x reader

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starboyyoongi · 3 months

Text

thinking about sukuna being a right hand man…

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who proves to be the perfect person to have by your side and never makes you doubt your decision in making him your right hand

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who quickly learns what it means to be in a fast paced industry where one is “here today and gone tomorrow. just like that” (your words)

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who sees more bloodshed than he could have ever imagined in the first few weeks in his new position

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who later on gets used to it and doesn’t bat an eyelash at it anymore

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who is nervous at his very first meeting that you two attend together. he knows how they work, but it’s different sitting next to the boss as opposed to being anywhere else in the room (or being in the room at all if one is lucky)

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who takes mental notes the entire time he’s sitting beside you so that he knows how to act in future meetings

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who hears one of the other men making slick comments about him and watches how the life drains from his eyes a mere few seconds after you hear said comments yourself. a million thoughts rush through his head, yet the only thing he can manage to say is, “thank you”

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who excels in his training and feels a rush of pride when he sees how proud you are of him

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who learns to think quick on his feet and wastes no time in protecting you when someone tries to attack you. he doesn’t think that he’s ever killed someone so fast in his life

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who gets close to you and learns about all of the things that you like, dislike, etc. he really likes being your friend (and you like being his, too)

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who gets more responsibilities as time goes on and solidifies himself as one of the most trustworthy people in your circle

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who learns about your hookups, but doesn’t pay them any mind. it’s none of his business and there was no reason for him to care anyways

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who occasionally catches a glimpse of your play things and feels a strange sensation in his chest when he thinks about the things you and them possibly do with each other. he ignores it, but the feeling never goes away and only gets worse with every passing moment. he’ll never admit it to you, though. after all, it’s none of his business, right?

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who comes face to face with one of your hookups one night when he drops by your apartment and has to restrain himself from putting a bullet between her two pretty, little eyes. he tries not to focus too much on her while you two are talking, but he can smell her on you and picture her manicured hands touching you all over and it’s driving him insane. i hope she fucking dies, he thinks to himself

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who starts to fantasize about you and all of things he wanted to do to you. his free time is spent moaning your name as he pleasures himself and thinks about you being the one doing it to him instead of himself

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who does the unthinkable one morning and steals a pair of your panties. he barely had time to process what he was doing and almost had a heart attack when he heard you walking towards your bedroom. thank god for his fast reflexes and deep pants pockets

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who gets the order to kill that same hookup weeks later when you find out that she’s betrayed you and gladly accepts the task with zero hesitation. sukuna couldn’t help the grin that spread across his lips at the sight of her looking up at him terrified and pleading for him to spare her. the gleeful look in his eyes as he landed the first of many shots was the last thing she would see before her untimely death

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who hopes and prays that she won’t be the last of your play things that he kills. he would kill all of them in a heartbeat for you (and does)

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who begins to show up to meetings by himself and reminds everyone why they should never speak ill of him or you. this is where he earns the infamous nickname “black widow”

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who goes on a bloody rampage following you getting hurt in the middle of an important event. the injuries you sustained were enough to keep bedridden for the next few weeks and while he was grateful that you were still alive, it didn’t take away from the fact that you almost lost your life. he almost lost you and sukuna’d be damned if he let those men get away with it

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who collects the heads of every man responsible and brings them to you one by one. no words are exchanged between the two of you, but they don’t need to be anyways. the look in his eyes told you everything that you needed to know

⭑ right hand man!sukuna who gains a few enemies for what he’s done, but doesn’t give any of them a second thought. maybe he was being a prideful bastard, but he knew that none of them could touch him anyways. and if they so much as thought about touching you, well, they’d be in for a rude awakening

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk sukuna #jjk headcanons #jujutsu sukuna #sukuna #headcanon #jjk smut #jjk au

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heliads · 5 months

Note

hi!! Can I request Harry Potter x f!reader, where Harry and y/n are dating and during the battle reader gets severely injured almost dead by Voldemort and Harry doesn’t know until after he defeats him he goes looking for reader but can’t find her, getting scared he goes looking for her and finds her under a pile of rubble realizing she’s about to die he uses the resurrection stone or wand to bring her back to life/heal her. Sorry if it’s really I’ve never requested before!

just read manacled so i'm desperately craving to write some hp angst so this request was perfectly timed thx anon xoxo

'someone take me home ' - harry potter

masterlist

The air is dark, choked with the ash and smoke of Harry Potter’s only true home.

Although he is not the one setting fire to the turrets, sending trolls in to demolish the stone parapets, or hurling curses through glass windows, Harry still feels responsible for the destruction. He is the one who challenged Voldemort by trying to hunt down his Horcruxes. He is the one who has brought this needless death and destruction into the castle. When Voldemort made his pronouncement that all of this fighting could cease if they would only turn Harry over to the Death Eaters, Harry had felt the weight of that guilt settle onto his shoulders like a cloak. It is his doing, all of this. He is the one to blame.

The only way he can make up for it is to end this, once and for all. If he does not kill Voldemort tonight– if he cannot end this war quickly– every life lost, every shred of memory and pride lost in the broken castle’s rubble will have fallen because he could not get the job done. Harry is responsible for everything that happens here tonight. He has to be responsible for winning it, too.

Harry is close to the end. So close. He has already died once tonight. He does not want it to happen again. For a moment there, when he went into the woods alone to meet his soon-to-be killer, armed only with a wand, a wish, and a deeply seated terror that would not leave him, Harry had not thought that he would come back. Dumbledore had not had the chance to specify that in his memories, that Harry would survive the Avada Kedavra curse for the second time in his life.

Harry had not known at all. Through Snape’s memories, he had seen that he would have to die for Voldemort to be killed, but there was no guarantee that Harry would come back. When Harry came away from the Pensieve burdened with that terrible truth, he had assumed that the blinding flash of green light would be all. When he said goodbye to Ron and Hermione, he had left them thinking that he would never return. Walking away from them was horrible, the price of seven years’ worth of incredible friendship. The only thing worse than that was leaving Y/N.

Y/N L/N. Harry’s girlfriend. They started dating during their fifth year, coasting on the thrill of sneaking around behind Umbridge’s back to run the DA. He’d liked her for longer, of course, he swears half the boys his year had a crush on Y/N at least since their second winter at Hogwarts, but Harry was the one who got to keep her around. He never forgot how lucky that made him. And, leaving her behind in the ruins of Hogwarts Castle to end his life, Harry reminded himself of it then, too. Even if he was going to die, he had lived a properly good life before the moment the Killing Curse was spoken aloud. He should have no reason to mourn all of the moments he would never have when he already experienced and enjoyed so many.

To distract himself in those cold, empty woods, Harry had reached into his pocket for the small, dark stone left to him by Dumbledore in the shell of a Golden Snitch. It’s probably not wise to carry a Deathly Hallow through the Forbidden Forest in search of a Dark Lord, but Harry was, after all, headed towards his certain death, so he figured that a little bit of risk was acceptable under those circumstances. Turning the Resurrection Stone over in his pocket, Harry had let his eyes flicker closed as he thought of something– as he wished for it, more than anything, more even than he needed to be alive– and then his eyes had opened, and he had seen his parents.

His first thought was that they looked just like their photographs. They smiled at him, reaching out wispy hands to guide him onwards. Remus and Sirius had joined not soon after. It was easier to be brave when he wasn’t alone, and it must have just been his mind imagining it, because he swore that just before he emerged into the clearing containing Voldemort’s camp, Harry saw Y/N there too, smiling and calling out to him.

He just wanted to think of her one last time, that was all. It meant nothing. Y/N was alive with Ron and Hermione. The one-hour truce had probably ended by then, so they would all be fighting again, but his two best friends would keep the love of his life alive. Of course they would. He made them promise.

Harry had removed that worry from his mind, and then he had died and subsequently come back to life. When he was lying on the cold ground, when Narcissa Malfoy had bent over him and asked him as quietly as she dared if her son was still alive, Harry has to admit that he was not thinking about the good of the mission to kill Voldemort, nor how he could keep up that crusade if he stayed alive. No, he thought about seeing Y/N one more time, and so he told her that Draco was still living. Harry didn’t even know if it was a lie or not, it didn’t matter, it worked. It could be true. Harry had no way of telling if Draco had passed away. All he could do was survive, clawing inch by inch until he could make it back to the grounds of the castle and tell for certain who was dead and who was alive.

The ruse, however misguided, had worked, and then Voldemort had crowed with sickly joy and dragged Harry’s body back to the castle. Harry was forced to remain stock-still, terrified to move so much as a muscle lest he give himself away and incur a second Killing Curse.

Now he is back, back here, back in the present moment, back in the castle. Harry is alive and everybody knows it. Harry heard the cheers erupt when he flung himself away from Hagrid to stand opposite Voldemort again, but he dared not look back. One distracted glance gives Tom Riddle a chance to kill him, and Harry cannot– he will not– give himself away like that after everything. His friends need him. Y/N needs him. Harry must do this, he must win.

Harry is no stranger to dueling, both with friends and enemies. When Voldemort points the Elder Wand at Harry, the wand that technically is under Harry’s control, Harry feels the moment thrumming in his veins like a bloodlust even before his opponent casts the spell. His wand hand rises of his own volition, the spell rising to his lips by reflex alone.

Two incantations are chanted at the same time. Avada Kedavra, Voldemort shrieks across the dusty courtyard, his voice like a death rattle. Expelliarmus, Harry shouts back, his heart leaping into his chest. He has never meant a spell like this before, and he swears he never will.

For a moment, all is still, all is quiet. The Death Eaters and students alike watch with bated breath as the two spells arc across the courtyard, but then Voldemort’s bright spark of green rebounds the second it comes into contact with Harry’s, sending both tumbling towards the Dark Lord. The Killing Curse hits Voldemort, and just like that, with no pomp and circumstance, no drama befitting the one who has caused them all so much violence and grief, Tom Marvolo Riddle dies.

Harry doesn’t believe it. Truly, he doesn’t, until he forces his limbs to walk over to the body of Voldemort and stand, staring, at the corpse until he is certain it does not move again. Slowly, surely, the Death Eaters peel away, and the students and members of the Order of the Phoenix come back again, surging around him like an ocean wave, rejoicing in their victory.

Ron and Hermione reach him first, one at each side. They embrace him, half crying, half beaming. Hermione’s saying that he’s done it, he’s won, and Ron is grinning at him proudly, telling Harry that he knew he could do it. Harry waits for the fourth person to join their party, but for some reason, she never does.

Harry pulls back slightly from their embrace. “Guys,” he says uncertainly, “Where’s Y/N?”

Ron and Hermione exchange confused looks. “She was just here,” Ron says vacantly. “Wasn’t she, Hermione? I swear I saw her a minute ago. We were fighting together, then a bunch of Death Eaters split us up. I got back to Hermione as soon as I could, but–”

“But you didn’t see her?” Harry interrupts. His voice sounds harsher than he intends, but a sudden, icy panic is beginning to flood through his system, and he cannot think about anything– he will not think about anything– until he is certain that this fear is unfounded.

He looks desperately at Hermione, the reasonable one, the one who always comes up with answers in times of crisis like this one, but she shakes her head quietly. “None of us have seen her since the fighting started up again,” she whispers. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

“No,” he says forcefully, “No, that’s not right. Y/N is alive. We just lost her in the crowd, that’s all.”

It must be true. Harry won’t look at either of them, won’t see the slow rush of guilt that’s creeping into both of their faces. Y/N has to be here. She wouldn’t just leave him like this.

Harry pushes past the two of them, fighting his way back through the crowds. He scans every face he sees, ignoring friends and professors the moment he’s sure they aren’t her. When he doesn’t see her immediately, Harry looks not at the crowds but the grounds, the walls, to see if she’s lying down somewhere. She could still be resting, or maybe she has a broken leg or something and can’t move. There is still a way that she could be alive. There is still a way that she could come back to him.

No sign of her. Harry is about to leave the courtyard and try searching somewhere else, and then he sees a hand crumpled near a pile of rubble. The hand, bloody and streaked with dust, is connected to an arm, an arm which lies limp from a shoulder, which leads to a chest which leads to a face, a face he knows, a face which is Y/N’s.

Harry is kneeling on the ground in a flash. The body of a fallen Death Eater is somewhere to the side, and Harry has the brief, proud thought that Y/N managed to kill one of them before she– He cuts himself off just in time.

Y/N seems perfectly fine by all accounts, were it not for the ash beginning to tint her face a lifeless shade. It gets everywhere, that stuff, but it won’t matter, they’ll have time to clean up later, once it is all over. It is all over, he realizes belatedly, but not quite yet. Not until she sits up again and smiles at him like she always does.

Harry waits for this to happen, for her chest to rise and fall, for any sign of movement. Nothing comes. It is only sitting here, waiting, watching for nothing, when he realizes at last that Y/N is dead. He missed his chance to save her. Y/N is dead because Harry couldn’t beat Voldemort fast enough.

The grief crashes over him in spasming attacks. He cannot lose her, not like this. It was easier to be the one dying when he knew she would go on to live a long, happy life, but this is wholly different and much worse. Y/N deserved far more than a death at seventeen. She deserved far more than Harry letting her down in this final way.

He can’t allow this to happen. Harry has killed the Dark Lord, he has freed the Wizarding World from death and destruction, he will save his girlfriend and it will be his last victory. Harry claws at his pocket for the Resurrection Stone– he almost lost it in the Forbidden Forest, but not quite, and now he has it still– and presses it with shaking hands against her heart. Harry closes his eyes and wishes with everything he has that she would come back.

He doesn’t want to open his eyelids. If it doesn’t work– he can’t look at her again, fallen and still. He stays in the darkness until someone tells him in a light voice, “You can look now, Harry. I’m alright.”

Harry opens his eyes and almost sobs again. There, sitting up, is Y/N. She smiles at him. “Don’t look so surprised. You know what the stone does, don’t you?”

“I do,” he croaks, “but– I was so afraid, Y/N. I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t have to,” she whispers back. “We’ll always be together now.”

He wants this. Harry reaches forward and embraces her. He can hardly feel her hug him back, but she’s probably still injured from the fight. She’ll have to get up to the hospital wing as soon as possible, Madam Pomfrey can make her as good as new in a second’s flash.

Harry steps back so Y/N can stand up, and then he starts to lead her back through the courtyard. Ron and Hermione have caught up to him by now, and they stare at Y/N with undisguised shock.

“She’s back,” Harry says exultantly, as if they couldn’t tell that already.

Hermione nods faintly. “Harry…”

Her voice trails off. Ron lays a comforting hand on her arm, then turns to Harry. “You found her, then?”

For some reason, he doesn’t seem nearly as happy as Harry thinks the situation deserves. He’s just found out one of his best friends is alive, after all, but instead he seems as if he’s just come from a funeral.

“I did,” Harry confirms. “I’m going to take Y/N to the hospital wing now, just in case.”

Y/N nods in agreement, which makes Ron and Hermione exchange knowing glances again.

“What?” Harry asks, somewhat cross.

“Nothing,” Hermione says a little too quickly. “It’s just– Oh, Harry, you have the Resurrection Stone, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Harry says. “Why do you ask?”

The look in her eyes is deeply sorrowful. “You have to let go, Harry.”

He shakes his head. “What are you talking about? I just got Y/N back, I have to make sure that she’s alright.”

He moves to brush past them, but Ron holds out an arm. “Here, I’ll take Y/N to the hospital wing. How about you stay and talk to Hermione for a little longer?”

Y/N looks unhappy about this, and although Harry doesn’t quite want to be parted from her yet, he can’t technically see any problems with this, so he agrees, and watches mournfully as Y/N trails away behind Ron. She’s moving slower than usual, but again, that must be due to injury.

Hermione takes him by the arm and steers him away from the quickly burgeoning crowds. “Harry,” she begins slowly, “Do you remember what Xenophilius Lovegood said about the Deathly Hallows, about the Stone in particular? How it drove the second brother mad because his bride came back from the dead, but she was never really the same?”

“I do,” Harry says vaguely, not entirely sure what this has to do with him, “But that’s not the case with Y/N, though, she’s fine. I reckon it’s because I have the Elder Wand too, you know?”

Hermione sighs. “Harry, that’s not the Y/N you lost. She’s different. I think she’s closer to a ghost than a person.”

“No,” Harry says unsteadily, “She’s just like I remember, honestly. I don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s nothing like a ghost.”

Hermione takes a slow breath in and out. She’s obviously fighting tears. “That’s because she hasn’t been herself lately, even before she– even before she died, Harry. The war has been hard on all of us, but her especially. It’s taken quite the toll on her, so much so that you would see a ghost of the girl you knew and still think it was her.”

“That makes no sense,” Harry protests, but a persistent feeling of doubt is starting to shadow his mind.

“I can prove it,” Hermione insists, and reaches into her pocket to pull out a photograph.

Harry holds it in his hands and stares. He remembers the moment this photo was taken more than he recognizes the actual people inside of it. This was one of the last days they had to themselves before the war broke out in earnest and everything went to hell. It had been in the spring, all four of them in the Gryffindor Common Room. Colin Creevey had taken the photo while they were unawares and to punish him, they’d confiscated it. Harry had no idea Hermione had held onto it, but now he’s pressingly grateful that she had.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all look the same, albeit a little younger, a little less beaten down, but Y/N– the Y/N in this photograph is nothing like the girl he’d just seen. This Y/N is vibrant, laughing uproariously at a joke one of them has just told. The version of her in the photograph turns with a start when the photo is taken, but she’s still grinning up at him, still happy. Harry feels as if a saturation charm has been cast upon the photo, it’s the only thing that would explain why she looks so bright and alive here.

Alive, unlike how she looks right now, because she isn’t. Harry had tried to bring her back, but it hadn’t worked completely. Just like in Lovegood’s story. He thinks back to the past few months and he remembers how Y/N had been, how the light had slowly drained from her. The constant running had been hard on all of them, but it was worst of all on Y/N. She was the one forever thinking of new places to go, new things to try, wearing the locket for the longest, never putting up a fight. Slowly but surely, it had coaxed the life out of her, so much so that Harry couldn’t even tell when she was just a shade he had brought back from the dead.

Hermione nods slowly, seeing that Harry understands at last. “I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry.”

“So am I,” he murmurs bleakly.

“Are you going to end the enchantment?” She asks him.

Harry feels like he’s drowning, engulfed in the ash and flame surrounding him. “I will. Just– let me say goodbye first.”

“Of course,” Hermione says. “We’ll be here when you need us.”

It’s more than he can ask of her right now, both to pull him out and to support him when he’s reeling from the shock of it all. They must be devastated too, Hermione and Ron, both of them have friends here who have died in this final battle and throughout the whole war, but they’re putting him first again. He’ll never be able to thank them enough for that, but he can try.

An idea occurs to him as he walks over to Y/N. He’s still got the Elder Wand in his pocket. He hadn’t needed it for the Resurrection Stone, he hadn’t even been touching it, but maybe– just maybe–

He casts a quick summoning charm to bring his invisibility cloak over, then pulls the Resurrection Stone out of his pocket. The Elder Wand in his other hand completes the triad. All three Deathly Hallows, all together at last. Dumbledore had wondered what having all of them together might do, how one might finally become a Master of Death. He had mused once that perhaps one had to accept the inevitability of one’s own death, to brush it off and greet Death as an old friend, as the third brother had done in the tale.

Harry has done this already. Died. He accepted it then. Facing Y/N, he accepts it now. He may die from doing this, but it would be alright. Y/N deserves to live. Harry embraces his fate, whatever it may be. He has the Hallows, but he would give them up for her, he would give up anything. Even himself. He has not meant a spell like this before, except once, and he swears he never will.

There’s a sudden rush of wind around him that forces Harry’s eyes shut, just for a moment. When he opens them, Y/N is still there, but she’s a shade no longer. This time, when she surges forward and hugs him, he feels the embrace completely.

“It’s really me,” she laughs, shocked, “I don’t know how you did it, Harry, but I’m really back.”

“You promise?” Harry gasps, half choking on his own surprise.

“I promise,” she smiles.

Harry glances back over his shoulder to where Hermione and Ron are watching with dropped jaws. One look at his friends is all he needs to know at last that yes, this is real. He’s finally won. The Dark Lord is dead. His love is alive.

At last, at long last, the last of his burdens disappear into the faint light of morning. Harry Potter is free.

harry potter tag list: @rogueanschel, @cameronsails, @neewtmas, @lovesanimals0000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @frenchgirlinlondon, @23victoria, @ilovexavierthrope

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter oneshot #harry james potter #harry james potter imagines #harry james potter x reader #harry james potter oneshot #hp #hp imagines #hp x reader #hp oneshot #harry potter fanfic #harry james potter fanfic

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 4 months

Note

Jeff Davis just ruined everything! Everything! Do you know if there's any fix-it fics yet!

AND

Anonymous asked:

Love your page! Can you recommend fix-it fics for the movie?

AND

angelofthetrenchcoats asked:

hii

do you know if there are any tw movie sterek fix it fics yet?

thanks❤️😂

“Take me back.” by Theo4thestars

(1/? I 979 I Not Rated I Sterek)

Stiles finds out Derek is dead. He’s hurt. He finds out Allison is alive. He’s never been more happy. He’s conflicted so he goes home.

we're all burning. by unholyturtle

(2/2 I 2,400 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles came home and Derek did not die.

Broken Things (It's Complicated) by PalenDrome (nerdherderette)

(1/1 I 3,880 I General I Sterek)

It's been fifteen years, and Derek still has feelings about that Jeep.

Crawling back to you by ads1008

(1/1 I 10,901 I General i Sterek)

Stiles gets a call from Eli that Derek has died. He runs home in time to be at the funeral where Eli barrels into him crying shaking like he is five years old again after a nightmare. Stiles holds him tight looking up at the pack he walked away from years ago. The ones that hurt him and his family too many times to count. His eyes landed on Scott, who looked sad and sorry. Stiles didn’t care for his pity. Rage boiled in him at just seeing his ex-best friend. The man that almost ruined everything for them 15 years ago but it looks like he already did. Stiles pulled Eli away, handing him off to his dad. Stiles walked over landing a hard punch to Scott’s temple.

“What did you do?” Stiles shouted.

Stiles knew he had to bring back the love of his life and the father of his son, with the help of Lydia and the rest of the gang. Stiles must fight one last demon of his own to bring Derek back. By doing so, secrets of the past fifteen years will be told. His young son, Eli, will know more about himself and his parents than either Stiles or Derek was ready to share.

We'll Take On The World by lookingforatardis

(1/1 I 26,000 I Mature I Sterek)

Derek grew quiet, eyes searching Stiles’ face. “It’s called True Mates.” “Do you think we…” he started, but cut himself off. He wasn’t sure he wanted an answer. “Maybe,” Derek nodded anyway, eyes cast down. Their hands were intertwined on the bed where they sat, and Stiles traced Derek’s knuckles with his fingers. “How would we know?” Derek sighed and leaned over to rest his head against Stiles’ shoulder. “There’s always a sign."

No More Martyr Bullsh*&t by Arieanna

(12/12 I 35,230 I Mature I Sterek)

Thank god someone had the brains to call him. Now he was running through the preserve to that stupid stump, hoping that he gets there before it's too late and he loses his reason for living.

"X" marks the spot by mmspring

(3/3 I 39,796 I General I Sterek)

"Please, bring my nephew back" Stiles stays silent for a second, before clearing his throat and speaking again. "Do you remember that time when you asked if someone in this town could stay dead?" he asks, and waits for the other man to confirm that he, indeed, remembers. "Well, let's hope the answer is still no".

Stiles has to save the day once again, but he doesn't want the recognition for it.

Nothing Ever Stays Dead by Violet_Michelle

(22/22 I 79,189 I Mature I Sterek)

Following Derek’s death, Eli took the Jeep and went to find the only person he thought could get his dad back.

Yoda Said It Best by OKDeanna, thePurebloodPrat

(21/21 I 99,128 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek Hale knows he as a problem. Contrary to what some might believe, he isn’t stupid. He knows the Jeep has meaning to him, real meaning. The kind of meaning that he doesn’t want to think about, let alone stop and have to analyze. Except… his son keeps pushing him about it, prodding at him, and then before Derek knows it, Stiles is back in Beacon Hills, driving the one thing in the world Derek wishes he never had to set eyes on again. If Derek isn’t careful, he could open himself up to a fall, and that would affect more than just his son but also his own traitorous heart. Because with Stiles back, Derek finally has hope again, and its making him want the things he knows better than to ever crave: a home, a future, a life—love.

One-Sentence Premise: To find the happiness they both crave, a lonely stressed-out single dad and a disillusioned FBI agent must confront their shared past and accept the feelings that have always existed between them.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #dad!derek #bamf!stiles #anon

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melonminnie · 1 year

Note

How about Planotic Yandere Claude x Daughter reader (who's the FL's twin sister) who is secretly living through her fifth life while she never got executed she always took her own life after her sister died because a life without her sister isn't a life worth living. She hates Claude with a passion and even when he starts to pay attention to his twins. She makes a point of never ever calling him Father or Dad and only refers to him as his Highness or Claude when talking about him. She is very suspicious of his intentions when he starts being nice to them. And while she does say "Thanks". She never ever accepts anything from him. Eventually this results in Claude begging his youngest twin daughter to call him Father Or Dad and she yells at him " WHY SHOULD I LOVE YOU WHEN YOU'VE NEVER EVER EVER LOVED US? HELL YOU BLAME US FOR MOM'S DEATH CLAUDE. EVERY TIME I HAVE COME BACK I WAS HOPING THAT MAYBE JUST MAYBE YOU HAD CHANGED AND YOU DESTROY THEM WITH EASE BY MURDERING MY TWIN SISTER AND THEN PROBABLY LAUGHING AT MY DEATH WHEN I TAKE MY LIFE. CAN'T YOU JUST GO BACK TO ACTING LIKE WE DON'T EXIST? YOU HAVE DONE IT UP UNTIL THIS POINT. CLAUDE PLEASE JUST GO." And Claude at first confused and concerned has a doctor check on his daughters and then reads a book which explains what's happening to reader. Claude realizing how many his other selfs screwed up and he winds up be coming super overprotective and Possessive of the twins and basically locks them away, promising to protect them from everythimg and everyone.

Two puppets (Yan!Claude x fem! Reader) platonic

-Tysm for requesting mwah!! Appearance is the same as athy ^^

The girl stared at the ceiling once again, This scene was almost too familiar to begin with.

She sighed as if she’d gone threw this a million times which she had, this being her fifth life by now.

In each life she’d take her own after her twin sister would get executed, See y/n truly did adore her twin so much so that she couldn’t live without her.

In her first life she’d let it happen, then realized there was no meaning if she wasn’t around.

In her second life, she tried defending the princess, she’d gotten put in jail for trying to frame the imperial family. Then she committed suicide

In her third life she tried running away it didn’t work, it got repeated and she committed once again.

In her fourth life, she committed after she found out.

it was the same cycle again and again, the only thing she was thankful for in those lives was she got relive the happy moments with her sister over and over again.

the girl never once thought of blaming her sister for her own death, in fact in every life she’d blame her father, someone who was okay with murdering his own child over one who isn’t his to begin with.

She knew he probably laughed at her when he looked at her grave, If he ever even went. She knew he probably even laughed when he found out that she committed.

Saying that the princess hated him would be an understatement, she wished he’d burn suffer threw everything she’d been forced to go threw. Only then would she try to forgive the man.

“Athy stop running!” The blonde begged chasing after her sister, her short legs were getting her nowhere at this point.

from exhaustion the girl fell to the ground crying in her head mentally, she heard footsteps, “Y/n what’s wrong?” She tilted her head helping up her sister.

“You’re going to fast!” She cried, she clung onto her chest, Athanasia stared down at the girl.

“okay then we will walk!” She declared holding onto Y/ns hand and moving forward.

Athy at first was quite irritated by how clingy y/n was but she had gotten used to it, she’d adjusted her plan into the two of you running away when you two were older instead.

As usual you were looking out incase anyone was wondering why two toddlers were out.

“Athy do we go no-” for a split second you turned your attention to your sister who was biting gold, quickly you ran to her and scolded the blonde but before you could finish.

A shadow was cast upon the two of you upon looking at who it was, this hadn’t happened in any timeline prior to this.

You wanted to run away no you could, but your body wasn’t allowing you in the slightest, all you could do was stare at the blonde man who’s name was Claude de alger obelia, Who had gemstones for eyes, who was also your father the emperor.

What’s he doing here?, the girl though anxiously, this had never happened before, nor was her sister acting like in the past timelines but she never questioned it.

In fact she’d never actually seen the man, she’d heard about him, but she’d never seen him face to face.

“What is this?are they bugs take them away” the man demanded, y/n peered at her sister nervously realizing she had the same expression as her.

The gold coins and diamonds quickly fell to the ground make loud noises as they hit they hit the marble floor, it was noticeable in the silence making it even more awkward.

after a while he finally spoke again, “those faces I’ve seen them before” he sneered, “was it that dancer from siodonna?, you look like her” he added in the same tone.

When that scene ended, you could barely remember what happened or how you ended up in the emperors office seated next to your sister.

The blonde glanced around the room in suspicion, was he planning on murdering you in front of your sister? Why were you infront of him.

“Athy can talk” Y/n heard her sister speak she turned her attention back to her, right she wasn’t paying attention so what was this conversation even about? Was he about to murder Athanasia because he thought she turned out mute?.

after a while, y/n knew this was all an act from the way her sister was acting. But she didn’t bother speaking not like he was speaking to her anyway.

“I ordered them to bring out something kids would like” he spoke, noticing either of you were eating the food. “If you don’t eat I will have no choice but to punish the cook” he threaten his eyes trained on the two of you like you were animals.

“Thank you for the food!” Athanasia yelled stuffing her mouth with the deserts on the table. You swore you saw a tear fall down her face.

“And you why aren’t you eating?” He questioned, “I’ll eat later…” the girl responded, “thank you for the food your majesty” she added, She could feel Athanasia stare at her with a confused look.

it was left at that, the rest you erased from your memory, once the two of you returned you clung onto one of the maids legs and started crying.

Later that night, Felix came and informed the maids that you two would have tea together every day.

Claude soon found out the difference between the two of you, though you were twins you had shorter hair than her and more quiet, your existence was barely noticeable unless people payed attention.

Athy called claude her father, while you couldn’t even look at him without feeling disgusted in someway. The only thing anyone other than Athanasia was able to coax you into saying was “okay or thank you”. Anyone who wasn’t aware would assume your the older twin based on how you’d act, but Athy knew it was an act.

Everyone shrugged it off as you liking Athanasia more due to you two growing up together.

Once the emperor decided to give you a gift, Exactly to test your reaction. But it was the same. you’d thank him and never use the gift or wear it again. To say that he was irritated would be an understatement, this was the first emotion he’d shown other than his creepy smile.

He’d tried to find an answer as to why his youngest hated him with a passion, but he couldn’t find one he’d let you be and never irritate you once.

Every once in a while he’d ask her the question.

“Why won’t you call me father at least?”

“Why don’t you call me papa I thought younger siblings like copying their older siblings”

Once he resorted to some sort of begging watching your normal expression change into shock.

To say you’d had enough was an understatement, Each and every movement of his every word he’d spoke was irritating.

So the last time he’d opened his mouth and muttered out the saying you finally lost it.

“Why do you care” the girl asked her voice lower than a whisper, “what?” He responded clearly asking you to speak up.

“Why do you suddenly act as if you care do you think buying all this jewelry and junk would make us happy after you blamed us for our mothers death knowing she’d want us to be here you broke your promise with her all because you couldn’t handle losing her! You took it out on us and now you want waddle your way back into my life and bribe us with gifts? You want to kill Athy again like you always do you wanna murder her and make her regret being born when she did nothing! You’d probably laugh at me after I die again wouldn’t you? Life was better when you didn’t even know our names nor our looks I hate you I hate you so much words can’t describe it you’re not my father and you’ll never be! I hate you Claude I hate you with my entire soul”

the emperor was confused, Shocked maybe he stared at her speechless, he turned his attention to one of the servants in the room.

“Call the physician my daughter isn’t well” he spoke, the servant quickly scrabbling around.

“Your daughter seems just fine, your highness just make sure she drinks more water” he reassures leaving the room.

Still even with the rpm doctor confirming it, he couldn’t shake off this feeling that there was something off. From the way you said those words to be exact.

So he ordered Felix to bring him every book known about magic or sickness, he soon found out the reason.

Reincarnation, something that was told to be a myth, he believed a hundred percent that was what happened to you, it was uncanny because you aren’t dead, nor is your sister dead.

Although he doesn’t know how many lives you’ve had or how you even reincarnated, he knew that all of his past lives were why you were so wary of him.

He’d made a promise with himself that day, a promise that till the day he dies he’d keep you safe.

“Where are you going?” The blonde questioned his daughter, “Garden” she responded, without a word he picked her up and drew further away from the garden.

“Your hi-”

”From now on.. The second princess of obelia will only be allowed when requested if I find her out her room without it being brought to me first I’ll hang your heads on the palace walls. The same goes for the first princess” he declared his eyes fixated on the girl.

“Because as long as I’m alive nobody will be allowed to hurt you”

I had a lot of fun writing the request ntg‼️‼️Hope u enjoyed reading pookies 😍💕💕

#-Azuwritess #wmmap x reader #wmmap fanfic #wmmap #wmmap athanasia #wmmap claude #who made me a princess #yandere manhwa x reader #platonic yandere #claude x reader #claude de alger obelia x you

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tojisangrylittlething · 5 months

Note

Can you do Gojo Satoru x reader (also his age like idk they went to schopl together) and they r dating but the reader almost dies and then treats their death mockingly as if as a joke? How would Gojo react?

Have a lovely day! 🪷

summary: death has always been a joke to you, but your boyfriend isn't very pleased with your sick sense of humor.

tw: canon typical violence, near-death experience, cussing, pre-hidden inventory arc, hurt to comfort

wc: 3.4k

a/n: your wish is my command lovely anon! sorry it took me a bit to complete! you're my first ever ask, so i hope this is what you wanted <3

satoru is currently walking through the courtyard of jujutsu tech. it's his second year as a student and his reputation as the strongest grows by the day. he feels incredibly lucky to have met his friends, such as suguru and ieiri.

but then there's you.

the bright-eyed first year who caught his attention the minute you walked through the doors of the school. shyly introducing yourself, holding out your hand shakily with a timid smile adorning your breathtaking features.

satoru was starstruck, his brain short-circuited and he forgot how to fucking breathe. it took him at least 2 whole minutes to shake your hand and give you an adequate greeting.

as you walked away with nanami and haibara, satoru couldn't help but watch as you did. your hips swaying and hands swinging freely at your sides, laughing at something haibara said. god, satoru will never forget your smile for as long as he lives.

suguru about had to unleash a curse on his best friend to get him to come back to planet earth.

from that day forward, satoru knew that he had to have you. whatever satoru gojo wants, satoru gojo gets.

after a few months of pining and romantic gestures, satoru finally convinced you to go on a date. as the date was coming to a close, he kissed you under the vibrant lights on the city streets of tokyo. the only time that he ever hesitated was when he asked you to be his partner, to be the one who loved and cared for him despite his flaws.

satoru couldn't help but kiss you again the second you said yes, completely overwhelmed with the feeling of joy.

now, six months later, your relationship has bloomed into something exquisite. you've shared many laughs, cries, and tender moments that satoru cherishes deeply in his soul.

he currently walks to see yaga, something about having a new mission for him. you're supposed to be back from your own respective mission today and satoru hopes he'll get to see you before he leaves.

satoru hears his phone ringing from his pocket, he reaches down and grabs it, eyes scanning over the caller ID.

shoko is calling...

he furrows his brows, a bit confused as to why she would be calling. shrugging it off, he presses the green answer button and holds it up to his ear.

"shoko! to what do i owe the-"

the sound of her sniffling immediately stops satoru in his tracks.

"shoko? what's going on?"

he hears her clear her throat and she sighs. gojo chews the dead skin off his bottom lip anxiously, speculating what she could say next.

"something happened to y/n. we're in the medical wing."

satoru feels his heart drop straight to his stomach, eyes growing wide at her words. he thinks he mumbles something along the lines of i'm on my way, but he's not entirely sure. the blood rushing through his ears makes his hearing sound muffled.

he half-hazzardly shoves his phone back into his pocket, taking off toward the medical wing of the school. his thoughts consumed with nothing but you.

---

when satoru arrives, he's shocked by what he sees.

there you are, lying in the white cot with your eyes closed. your skin is abnormally pale, the vibrant glow you always held has now turned dull. you're wrapped in bandages and an IV drip is connected to the top of your hand.

satoru keeps his face blank, afraid that if he shows any emotion he will break down. internally, his brain is screaming for you, what could have possibly happened to you that you're in this condition?

he always swore to you that he'd protect you, not only was that his job as one of the strongest sorcerers of the age, but also as your devoted boyfriend.

"you know i will always protect you, right my love?"

you smiled sweetly at him, eyes crinkling at the corners and nose scrunching up adorably, "of course i know that toru."

that interaction plays in his head like a broken record. he wasn't there for you.

shoko approaches him cautiously, unsure of what her friend is thinking. satoru's face is void of emotions, but she can see the turmoil swimming in his eyes, even from behind his sunglasses. his usually radiant blue eyes are now dark and frigid.

shoko reaches her hand out to touch him, but pulls it back deciding against it. she knows satoru has to be on high alert right now, so surely his infinity is on.

satoru finally looks at shoko, remorse is written all over her face. her eyes are slightly downcast and there's a frown on her lips. she looks him up and down, trying to assess what he's feeling.

he looks back to you, "what happened?" satoru mumbles out, his voice is eerily calm, but there's a waver behind it.

shoko turns her gaze to where gojo's is, the events of the mission playing over in her head. she shakes her head, willing those images to go away.

"the intel was wrong. it was supposed to be a grade 3, but it was a grade 1."

satoru stays quiet as he takes in the information. he clenches his fists in anger, how could they possibly mistake something like that? their one miscalculation leads to the light of his life on their deathbed.

shoko takes his silence as her cue to continue, "the curse threw an attack aimed at me, but y/n threw themselves in front of me. they took the blow head on."

shoko hears the shake in her own voice and feels the tears begin to gather in her waterline. she always viewed you as a younger sibling, looking out for you and having your back whenever you would need her.

"i used my technique and healed them the best i could, but now we have to play the waiting game."

shoko turns to gojo after finishing her sentence and she becomes even more worried for him.

gojo's fists shake from how tightly he clutches down on them, his knuckles are extruding due to the force he is using. shoko can hear the grinding of his teeth with how brutally he is clenching them, any harder he might break a tooth.

before shoko can stop herself, she puts a comforting hand on his arm. she's shocked to find that his infinity is off.

shoko composes herself then, hand squeezing his arm comfortingly, "i'm so sorry gojo, i'm so so sorry."

satoru turns his eyes to her and sees the apologetic look she wears on her face. he sighs and lets go of his fists, shooting her a small smile, "it's not your fault shoko, don't blame yourself."

silence falls across the room then, the only sound being heard is the steady beeping of the heart monitor you're attached to. satoru and shoko are unable to stop staring at you, each of their hearts breaking in different ways for the state that you're in.

"i'm going to wait with them until they wake up."

gojo says nothing else as he plops himself in the uncomfortable chair next to your bedside. he grasps your hand in his, your hand is cold and it makes his insides twist.

shoko watches gojo for a moment, noting how gentle he is with you and the soft look in his eyes. she can physically see all of the love that walking behemoth holds for you.

she bows slightly and makes her way out of the room, running off to tell yaga what has happened and that gojo will not leave your side. she knows him well enough to know that he would cause an absolute shitstorm before anyone takes him away from you.

as soon as shoko leaves, satoru can't help the anxiety that eats away at him. all of the worst possible scenarios being the only thing he can think of.

he frowns deeply and uses his free hand to rub at his eyes, not wanting to shed any tears over something that may not happen.

satoru glides his thumb softly over your wrist, he's able to feel your pulse and it's weak. this causes him to sigh, taking in your figure and the injuries all over your skin.

"wake up soon my love, i'll be waiting."

---

you have no idea what time it must be when you wake up, the lighting in the room blinding you from how bright it is.

this causes you to squint your eyes, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the sudden intrusion to your vision.

when you look around you, you see that your in a room in the medical wing of the school. since becoming a sorcerer, you've grown familiar with the disgusting hospital white that paints the walls. the smell alone making you scrunch up your face with how putrid it is.

after a few minutes of observation, you feel something in your left hand.

you look in that direction and see your beautiful boyfriend satoru. he is bent forward, laying his head on the bed you also lay in with his head resting on his forearms. his eyes are closed and he's snoring softly, a stark contrast to how tightly he is gripping your hand.

you can't help the small smile that finds its way to your lips, your free hand reaching for him. you run your fingers lightly through his snow-white hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.

your movements cause him to stir, he faintly and his eyes blink open slowly.

he glances around the room briefly when his eyes finally find yours, the smile you wear is so tender that satoru believes it to be an illusion.

you try to speak to him but you start coughing violently, your throat dry from being asleep for so long.

satoru scrambles to your bedside table, grabbing the water cup and holding it to your lips.

you grasp at it and drink it quickly, your body feels as if it hasn't drank in days.

when you've finished the water, satoru plucks it from you and sets it back on the table. he faces you again and squeezes your hand, smiling at you affectionately, "welcome back, baby."

you return the loving smile and squeeze his hand back, a rasp to your voice, "hi."

satoru cradles your head, his eyes taking in every single feature on your face. his smile falters almost imperceptibly, his eyes looking directly into yours, "almost lost you there."

you wave him off, chuckling extraneously, "it's fine satoru, could've been worse."

his frown seems to deepen even more, "you almost died, baby. i don't understand how it could be worse."

you look around nonchalantly with a light expression on your face, "oh, i don't know, i could actually be dead."

satoru furrows his brows at you, pulling away from you slightly, "baby, i'm serious. you could have died."

you grin at him, honestly finding his serious behavior amusing, "it's no big deal toru."

satoru completely pulls away from you then, shocked by how your treating the situation, "no big deal? this is a big deal y/n."

you roll your eyes and snicker at him, hilarity dancing in your eyes, "no it's not satoru, it's just part of the job. although, that would not have been a cool way to go. only a grade one? come on." you groan out by the end, embarrassed that it wasn't a special grade that landed you here.

satoru is frozen in his spot, completely appalled at the way you're handling this. he thought of all the ways you would wake up, but he didn't account for this one.

sure, satoru has done incredibly reckless things, come on he's satoru gojo. he only commits those acts because he knows he has an insurance policy in place, his infinity. he's convinced the only thing that can kill him is himself.

you, however, do not have his technique.

yes, you're an incredibly powerful sorcerer, working your way up the ranks quickly. gojo believes that one day you'll sit beside him and suguru as the strongest.

but today is not that day.

you threw yourself at a walking hand grenade for fucks sake, the fact that you even survived is shocking. he's grateful to the gods that you did, but he only wishes you would take this a bit more earnestly.

satoru takes both of your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs back and forth absentmindedly.

"baby, i need you to listen to me carefully."

when he looks up at you, you're looking straight at him. you have a passive look on your face, a small smirk fixed on your lips, "satoru, i told you it's-"

satoru grip on your hands grows tighter, his eyebrows scrunching up in frustration and his eyes are full of anguish. he can't help the volume that his voice rises to, unable to hold back any longer, "no, no it's not fine! i almost fucking lost you today, and for what, because you decided to dive in front of something equivalent to a fucking missile?"

you roll your eyes at your boyfriend and yank your hands out of his grasp, your arms cross over your chest and you huff out in annoyance, the glare you send satoru cutting through your once light-hearted facade, "and what was i supposed to do? let shoko take the hit?"

satoru scoffs at that, the words spilling out of his mouth like an uncontrollable fire, "this isn't about shoko, this is about you. do you have no regard for your own life that you'd just throw it all away?"

you fire right back at him, annoyance beginning to boil in your gut and popping right out of the top, "i'm not throwing my fucking life away! shoko was about to be blown to smithereens! i accepted death when i became a sorcerer, have you?"

satoru cannot believe what he's hearing and it clearly shows on his face, his mouth morphs into a scowl and his eyes are so dark you can't even see his pupils anymore, "at least i wouldn't have wound up here, clinging to a life i obviously don't give a shit about."

the look on your face could kill anyone in a 5 mile radius, your eyes throwing daggers and your mouth shooting bullets, "maybe i should have died on that field, at least then i wouldn't have the honored one trying to dictate my life."

you're panting heavily, you can feel your body shaking with rage and you can hear the heart monitor beeping rapidly.

satoru is a different story.

his breathing is opposite of yours, it seems to have come to a halt. his pupils are blown wide and his mouth is open slightly, trying to see if he heard you correctly.

he sighs dejectedly and pinches the bridge of his nose. he's attempting to think of something to say, but he's coming up empty handed.

you hear him rustling about and turn your gaze back to him. you see him stand with his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched and looking completely deflated.

he looks through you with an empty stare trying to mask the pain he's feeling, mouth pulled into a thin line, "you know what? fine. if you want to go on a suicide run, fine, do what you wish. i will have no part in it."

what he says next is like a harpoon being shot through your heart.

"if you are that willing to leave everything behind, i want no part of you either."

you feel as if the world has stopped spinning on its axis. the gravity of his words crushing you, turning you into mere atoms of a human being.

regret begins to wash over you, an apology sitting on the tip of your tongue but you can't form the words. your breaths are now coming out in short pants, your heart and lungs feel like they're being shattered from the inside.

"i love you more than my dreams would ever allow, but i still want to be able to love you and not your corpse."

you put your head in your hands, wishing that the ground would open up and swallow you whole. you dig your nails into your cranium with so much strength you think you broke skin.

you don't even know if satoru is still here, too engrossed in the thought of him leaving you.

to others, your relationship may seem like a juvenile affair, but that's not the case.

in the world of jujutsu, you see and experience a multitude of things that a teenager should never have to go through. you're sent off like soldiers to war, fighting against something that is greater than yourselves. death is simply inevitable, it's in the job description. some sorcerers thrive, while others wither away.

joking about your impending demise has been your way of coping with it. an unhealthy coping mechanism, but what else are you supposed to do? live your life too tentatively and miss out on the beauty it has to offer?

that's why you loved satoru.

he was always a ray of sunshine in your life. a shining star in your dark universe, providing light and warmth in his wake. the day he asked you to be his significant other, you were beyond happy. the delicate glances he gives you, the soft kisses he greets and leaves you with, the love that he reserves only for you.

all of these things make it easier to face the horrors every time you leave the school because you know when you come home, satoru will be waiting for you with open arms.

without him? you don't know what you would do.

realizing that not having him in your life might soon be a reality, you break down into a sob. the faucet behind your eyes turned on and not stopping anytime soon. you're wailing so loud, it's a surprise no one has come in to investigate.

you grip the ends of the gown on your body, trying to ground yourself. you finally find the ability to speak, shouting i'm sorry over and over.

you're now convinced that satoru has left, leaving you to your own devices.

you're proven wrong when a familiar pair of warm arms wrap themselves around you.

satoru pulls you into his chest and you clutch the fabric of his uniform tightly in your hands. you're sobbing so hard that you think you might be sick.

"i'm sorry satoru, i'm sorry. please don't leave, don't leave me alone."

he doesn't say anything, just continues to hold you and cradle your head, rubbing his hand up and down the expanse of your back.

"i don't want to leave everything. i love my life, especially with you in it."

your sobs have calmed down into hiccups and sniffles, the tears now trickling down your cheeks.

"i-i want to live a long life with you, where we grow old and wrinkly and hobble around with a cane."

that gets a small chuckle out of satoru, "i have to admit baby, you'd look good in a moomoo."

you hit him on the shoulder with a small laugh, but quickly revert back to your serious manner, "i'm not kidding satoru, i love you and i want to be with you on this day, until our last day."

he grabs your face in his hands and angles you so you're looking right at him, "i love you, more than anything, but baby i need you to hear me."

he presses your forehead against his, staring directly into your eyes you can feel it in your soul, "i can't love you the way i want to if you're dead. i need you to promise me that you will look after yourself, i won't always be there to keep you in check. i need you to come back to me in one piece."

you think over it for a moment, satoru wants what's best for you, and you should want that too.

you whisper softly, afraid of ruining the moment, "i promise."

you seal the promise with a kiss, running your hands through satoru's hair while he grabs you by your waist to pull you closer.

you kiss each other with a newfound passion, the love you share untethered.

"jesus christ, really?"

"it's a miracle they didn't do anything else on this bed."

you try to pull away, flustered at being caught, but gojo keeps on kissing you with fervor. of course, not without throwing his middle finger up at his friends who chuckle behind him.

#satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #squid writes

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