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dcxdpdabbles · 23 days

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The Undead Florist

Anon said: Basically, I just wanted Danny to deliver flowers to the Justice League heroes from his fans. If you can include Everlasting Trio. U can add whatever crack you think would be best! Thank you!

Clark is in the middle of blocking a heat ray attack from a robot that copies the powers of any Justice League member when the unexpected happens. A kid, no older than fourteen, boldly walks into the battlefield carrying a lavish bouquet of red roses and trigger lilies.

He's dressed in a worker uniform: light brown khakis, a black shirt with a light-born vest, and a black baseball hat resting neatly on his head. There is a company logo on the upper right of his vest but Clark does not recognize the stylized D.

There was a still moment when Clark's super speed could see the exact second Amazo spotted the child. The boy wasn't paying attention, staring at his phone screen, which had the faint details of a map, and had two headphones in his ear.

Clark's eyes widen in horror, and he opens his mouth to try to shout a warning—though he doubts the kid could hear him over the loud music playing in his ear—but before he can, Amazo flung out an arm straight at the kid's head, still pinning Clark down with a cheap version of his own laser ray eyes.

No! No, please, he's so young! He pleads mentally, frozen in horror as the robot's hand goes right through the kid's head. It took a solid minute for Clark to realize that Amazo's hand hadn't ripped through the skull of the child but rather had passed through him as if the boy was not physically there.

From underneath a black baseball cap, brim, electric blue eyes stare at Amazo. Gesturing vaguely to the arm going through his head, the boy frowns. "Rude much?"

"Access: Black Canary," Amazo says in response, his jaw opening wider as a super-powered scream is released, pointing black at the kid's face.

The frown on the worker deepens as the boy reaches up and- slaps the android in the face? "Dude, I'm trying to work. I have like eight flower deliveries today. Also, that was a weak imitation. This is a real Ghostly Wail."

He opens his jaw, letting out a sound that wasn't as loud as Black Canary or Amazo but somehow worse.

And the sound—the unholy screech that releases from the child sends Clark to his knees, quivering in his boots as Amazo disintegrates right before his eyes. The only thing left of the android is a smothering pair of robotic legs that fall over with a loud thump.

The boy huffs, paying no mind to the fact that he took out the enemy the league had spent the last six hours fighting before Clark tried to lure it away from the city. He merely glances back at his phone, following the little moving icon on the map until he stands before the fallen hero.

"Hi! Are you Superman?" The kid asks in a polite, chipper tone. It's such a whiplash change between his normal voice and his customer service voice that it sets in. This is really just a Tuesday for him.

Clark opens and closes his mouth with a weak "Yes" and is pushed out.

The kid's smile grows as he pushes the flowers into his arms. Clark nearly drops the vase, scrambling to get a good hold of them as the kid pulls out a harmonica and plays a little jingle. It sounds like a mix between Happy Birthday and Ring Around the Roses.

Once he is done, the boy holds out his arms wide open and loudly proclaims, in a very obvious Transatlantic accent, which makes him sound... rather otherwordly: "These flowers are sent by your fan Kattie Longsmith in Metropolis, wishing to thank you for rescuing her mother and brother from a fire. She wants to remind you that she is your biggest fan and hopes you have a lovely day. Thank you for selecting the Undead Florist as your means of flora travel!"

With a theatric bow, the boy blinks out of existence.

Clark is left kneeling alone in a destroyed cornfield, beating black and blue, while holding a vase of lavished roses and lilies. He is unsure how long he will stay there, trying to process what he just saw as the Batplane flies onto the scene, Bruce jumping out of it with a cry of his name.

Batman growls upon taking in the scene before his friend rushes to his side. "What happened?"

"I ugh...I got a flower delivery." He manages to utter, eyes still trained on the spot of the strange kid.

"What?"

"Trust me, I'm as confused."

It turns out that Clark's delivery is not an isolated incident. Over the past three months, various Justice League members have reported similar interactions with the Undead Florist.

Flash got a bouquet while trying to stop Captain Cold. The kid had wandered in the middle of a fight, unfreezing the speedster to hand over yellow lilies and sunflowers from a little boy named Teddy Smith in Central City. He had melted the freeze ray that was shot at him while Barry was in the middle of a panic, thinking he would watch a child die.

One little jingle and message was delivered in a Transatlantic accent later, and the boy was gone without a trace again. Bruce had gone to the scene, trying to find anything that could give him some clue, but he disputed the clear picture of his face and the recording of his voice. Nothing about the boy came up in their systems.

Wonder Woman was next, receiving two large bouquets of roses from a fellow woman she had rescued named Trix Cooperman. Her jingle was slightly smoother jazz , and the message leaned towards romantic than gratitude from a fan, but the boy had delivered it nonetheless.

He also took out Cheetah with a well-placed punch, highly impressing Diana. He had the makings of a warrior.

Then Green Arrow, Green Lantern, Martian Man Hunter, Batman, Martian Man Hunter, Hawkgirl, Aquaman, Zatanna, and surprisingly Vigilante each got their own flower grams.

None of them were able to get any information about the child, seeing as he only appeared when the members were in the middle of a fight, which was driving Bruce mad.

Of course, they had tracked down all the clients but met a dead end when each claimed they had never placed an order with Undead Florist. Even when Diana was holding her rope, the people gave the same answer.

They had no idea why Undead Florist was delivering flowers in their name or where the message that came along with the flowers appeared from. The chilling part was that the messages did actively represent their emotions and feelings towards the heroes, but how the overpowered child knew that was left unanswered.

The other thing that bothered Bruce was that the Undead Florist only appeared when they were in battle.

"Maybe it's because he doesn't know how to find you otherwise," Nightwing suggested at the Justice League-wide meeting.

"He uses a GPS that is locked into the heroes." Batman grunts, not dismissing the suggestion but challenging it, which causes his eldest son to shrug.

"Undead could be following online tips or something. It's not like the Leauge is seen just strolling around the cities, but people tweak when they do happen to see us."

"We could test that. Have a group of heroes just relaxing at a cafe or something. See where he appears and if there is a pattern after monitoring social media." Red Robin suggests, rubbing his chin.

Batman considers it before nodding. "I shall divide the teams."

The Justice League goes out, doing as instructed, and sure enough, they find the Undead Florist appearing more and more. Red Robing happily puts together the pattern, pointing to social media generated by the younger generation's demographics.

Undead Florist is an actual teenager using DCtweets to find heroes to bring flowers to. They have enough proof of that to show he's harmless if one ignores his more than impressive battle skills.

"Now all we need to do is catch him," Clark announces. "We don't want to scare him, but the Justice League really needs to know how he's doing all of this. It could be a security risk."

Meanwhile, Danny chills in his haunt, watching Sam tend to the flowers in a large greenhouse he placed for her. Tucker is typing away on a ghost zone-powered supercomputer, looking at all the Soul orders their business is getting.

The Ghost Zone didn't have a formal currency; they had Deals instead. Even small unconscious deals—like wishing on a shooting star, throwing a coin in a fountain, or sending a prayer or two—could be turned into deals if a higher being encountered them.

Luckily for those people, Danny and his lovers are very kind higher beings and choose to complete their requests in a way that satisfies all of their obsessions without stealing souls.

Sam got to spread her greenery across worlds, Tucker got to spend time with tech from different universes and Danny was able to explore and protect the souls of humans.

That Danny could exchange these Soul orders for gold was no one business but their own.

"Ohhh, another order, Red Robin, from Universe Nine!" Tucker crows. "It's roses in the shape of a heart from Kon-el. Aw, he's in love with his best friend!"

"That's sweet." Danny smiles, leaning over his boyfriend's shoulder to read the message he must memorize when he struts into Gotham. "I know how much fun dating best friends is."

"Let's help those losers confess then!" Sam calls, raising her hands as roses of various colors burst to life around her.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #everlasting trio #Dimension travel #The JL are confused #Danny is a flower delivery boy running a business with his boyfriend and girlfriend #Crack #Just imagine this scranny looking kid wander around #This is after Phantom Planet but no reveal #Just poly powerup #Deals are currency in ghost zone

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niluffa · 6 months

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STAYING FOREVER ─ s. gojo

SUMMARY : five times satoru has said your name with different kinds of emotions, and one time he said your name softly.

CONTENT : fluff, friends to lovers, angst, smut, s2 spoilers, sub!satoru, dom!fem!reader, riding, praise, dacryphilia (lots of crying), handjob, two orgasms, creampie, small aftercare

W. COUNT : 8,0k

AUT. NOTE : this took a ridiculous amount of time, and i’m still not satisfied with it !! :(

you gulped at the “welcome to jujutsu high” sign standing tall at the entrance of the school you were transferred to just a few days ago. apparently, it was due to your ‘ability to see curses’—mind you, what the hell was a curse anyway?

sure, some strange creatures always kept peeking out from behind the buildings whenever you were on your way to school or back, but you always thought you were just a bit insane. or at least, that’s what your parents, who couldn’t see curses, always told you.

years of therapy that you didn’t even need were hopeless to shut down your worries, and you sometimes wonder if you were just as out of your mind as everybody, even your friends think.

“aliens? cut that crap out, [name]!” they would laugh at you.

the information you have spilled to your therapist somehow reached yaga, the principal of the school you were walking through at the very moment, who wasted no time to reach out to you, happy to explain every one of your questions.

well, he wasn’t exactly happy to realize yet another bright teenager like you will spend years of torture and the burden of being a sorcerer, building up friendships just to watch them drop dead one by one—only to end up like them.

he didn’t tell you that because he knew you were already aware of the amount of pain you would go through once you accepted your position as a student at jujutsu high.

but it was worth a try, right?

you were currently following the principal. he told you to just stay quiet and let him introduce you to your new classmates and future mission partners.

the door into the classroom was slammed open by yaga, and his cold and stoic face matched his deep voice that echoed through the room, “good morning─”

“good morning, sensei!” a white-haired male yells from his seat, his grin spreading from one ear to another. your jaw dropped when you took a good look at him.

he was drop-dead gorgeous.

the iconic glasses he always used to wear were abandoned on his desk to reveal his vibrant blue eyes that could kill by the way they lit up the whole room—which was lowkey a bit creepy. nevertheless, the shade of the blue was just so hypnotic that you couldn’t look away.

the boy’s six eyes immediately get triggered under your stare, and he wastes no time to let his dramatic side out.

“sensei—” the male begins, taking a big inhale, and your face already cringes when you realize his plan is nothing else but to yell at the top of his lungs, “she’s staring!”

the classroom falls dead silent, and you watch the other male with a bun slap the back of the white-haired’s head. the girl next to them sat unbothered, her lips pursing at the awkward silence.

“satoru . . .” yaga warns him, making the boy flinch and shrink back to his seat with a wobbly but embarrassed smile that shows how much he’s prepared for the whole hour of scolding from the principal later.

the older man sighs, “this is your new classmate, [name].”

you stand in front of the board in silence as yaga begins to explain some things that are not related to you—instead, you pay attention to the gazes of the trio you just learned to recognize as your classmates.

a brunette girl on your right, closest to the window. a guy with a bun who was sitting in the middle. and, of course, a white-haired guy closest to the door. maybe that is why your eyes landed on him the second you stepped in.

from what you could tell, the black-haired male held zero judgment towards you by the way he offered you a friendly smile that made his eyes curl into the shape of a crescent moon. he looked kind, and you smiled back.

the girl was questionable at first. she looked up and down at you, and for a second, you were afraid her face would do the twist of disgust, and she would roll her eyes as most of the girls in your school did—but she didn’t. instead, she offered you the same smile the boy on her right did.

the white-haired male—satoru, as yaga mentioned—was a bit different. his reaction was rather interesting. aside from yelling at the top of his lungs that you were staring at him, he did exactly what you expected from the girl on the left.

“[name]?” satoru huffs in annoyance. he stared at you with a pout, his face twisting. but it wasn’t a judgmental twist that would make you burst out in tears and run away from the room—even when you didn’t say a single word, and your voice was still unknown to him.

“i don’t like her,” satoru huffs proudly. the attention he was expecting was far away from reality than he would like to admit. angry look from yaga, an annoyed look from his two other classmates, and a sad look from you.

maybe this was a sign for him to never speak again.

“suguru,” satoru whispered harshly, nudging his elbow into the boy’s side, who was already sending him an ‘are you serious’ look, “back me up!”

suguru clicked his tongue, “raise your hand if you care.”

the silence that fell right after suguru’s words was so damn awkward that even you couldn’t help but feel bad for the amount of embarrassment satoru must have felt after not a single person in the room raised their hand. his head hung low in shame, the sound of his forehead slamming against the desk only making others roll their eyes.

“i apologize for satoru’s behavior, [name]. please, feel free to take a seat.” yaga says, but immediately finds the issue of why you never sat down—the only available spot was right next to satoru. yaga clears his throat.

“suguru? shoko? please,” the principal didn’t have to repeat himself twice for the two of them to nod and switch their seats so that you could be as far as possible from satoru and his bratty personality.

the rest of the class period was quiet, but you could feel satoru’s gaze on you almost every five minutes—just about every time yaga turned his back to all four of you to write something on the board. so as soon as the teacher lifted the piece of chalk to write something, satoru had his head snapped in your direction.

“ignore him,” shoko whispered since even though satoru wasn’t looking at her, his gaze was so easy to pick up that even yaga, who had turned around for a while, knew what was going on behind his back.

after what felt like forever, the class came to an end—that couldn’t be said the same for satoru’s non-stopping stare that went on and on for the past hour without breaking. but once you found the courage to make eye contact with him, he was a long time gone.

you sigh in defeat and wonder if maybe next time you will be able to talk to satoru normally without him him having the need of digging blades into you with his stare.

“hey,” shoko spoke, “can i get your number?”

the weekend followed. you questioned why you had to be transferred to the school on friday and why they just couldn’t let you stay home for the weekend and then show you the school—but who are you to wander into yaga’s office and complain.

when shoko texted you just some location of a random street without telling you any context or clues, anxiety began to rise within your body. funny how a simple “meet us there” was able to shake you up so much.

no, they won’t kidnap you and beat you until death just because satoru was too picky with his choices of making new friends—you had to insure yourself.

“hey, you came!” shoko cheers as soon as you come into her vision, and you tell yourself that it wasn’t so bad, you were just overthinking again. a special habit you had for the longest time, “i’m glad you did.”

suguru nods with that same kind smile and adds, “we were afraid you wouldn’t show up.”

you smiled at their words, genuinely grateful you won’t spend all your sorcerer years as a punching bag for some mean kids who were raised without any sort of manners.

there were two other people, both male. the blonde one introduced himself quietly but with a hint of respect while the brunette one just shook your hand, looking like he was about to burst from having too much energy.

“we’ll go check the movie seats. wait here, okay?” shoko waved, and you nodded, soon enough finding yourself a nice empty bench while the other four entered the movie theater.

the streets were quiet, and you had to admit that it was quite relaxing. not until you heard heavy footsteps and a very familiar voice rushing right in your direction. you cursed under your breath.

“nooo! they went inside already?!” satoru dramatically collapses right next to you, the plastic bag that he was holding landing right on top of your lap. fortunately, none of the things ended up broken.

after satoru was done with his fake sobbing and whining about how he “checked the time multiple times” and “how dare they go inside without him”, he took the bag from your lap to his to open it.

“i’m sorry. about uh,” satoru clears his throat, “yesterday.”

for a second, you froze. apology from satoru gojo himself? oh, you were so flattered you could yell it out from the rooftops. but truth be told, you weren’t affected by his yesterday act at all. maybe that has something to do with your “people’s people” personality.

“oh, no, no!” you wave it off. satoru hears your voice for the first time, and he’s shocked about how sweet and gentle it sounds, “it’s okay, really─”

“no, i’m serious,” satoru cuts you off before you have the chance to rant about how truly you didn’t care and that sometimes, first impressions just don’t go as many people would like them to be, and that’s okay.

“i brought you this as an apology. i hope you like sweets as much as i do!” the sorcerer shoots you the same grin he did yesterday when greeting yaga. “please accept it. it was the last piece.”

satoru hands you a plastic box of edamame and cream kikufuku—a small tag hung from the side of it, and the price that was supposed to be on it was harshly ripped apart so you were unable to tell how much he spent.

you hummed, “thank you, gojo—”

“satoru. please, call me satoru.”

“okay, satoru.” you smile, feeling happy with the whole situation. at first, he was an asshole who looked like he wanted to throw you out of the classroom just because you were breathing, and now, he spent god-knowing how much yen just to buy you an apology gift.

“hey, the movie is starting—oh, satoru!” suguru’s smile got wider at the sight of his best friend and you sitting next to each other, satoru’s favorite kikufuku flavor on your lap.

satoru, immediately after hearing suguru’s voice, grinned and jumped up from his seat. you came running right after them, tightly holding the sweet dessert the white-haired boy had bought you close to your chest as if it was the most precious and important thing in the whole world.

the movie was, in your opinion, boring. supposedly, it was a famous summer horror that your classmates, along with haibara and nanami, wanted to see for the longest time.

the plot wasn’t even that bad, and it had the potential to be interesting if it wasn’t for the poor choice of actors in the movie. the budget was low too, and it showed. so the only thing you really could do was stare at the poor attempts of what was supposed to be a jumpscare.

“oh, man . . .” satoru groaned from beside you and gave in to the impulse thought of spreading his long, aching limbs everywhere they could fit—because he was the strongest, who was gonna stop him when his spreading arms would block their vision of the threader screen?

“this movie is boring!” the sorcerer was now spread all over his seat, your seat, and also you. the boy takes good notice of how you didn’t even look at him when his legs landed right on your lap and how you continued to stare at the screen with a blank expression.

satoru decided to push his luck to spread out even more than he already was. but this time, his head took the place of his legs—right on your lap. finally, you did look down at the recognition of something shaped like a head, and you smiled when you saw the white-haired boy grin up and you.

what you didn’t expect was when satoru’s thumb rose to flick his own forehead multiple times, mentioning for you to kiss the spot he had touched just now. and you listened. bending down a bit, your hand removed all the bangs his hand wasn’t able to scoop, and your lips contacted the skin of his forehead.

“didn’t know you would fall so easily, [name]!” satoru says teasingly, followed by a genuine chuckle. his toothy grin shoved appearance again, and you bit down your lip so as not to burst out laughing and ruin the movie experience for the other people.

a quit flash of a camera, “cut it out, lovebirds,” shoko had to lean over to whisper from her seat so that the guy, who was already glaring at her for taking a picture in the threader, wouldn’t bash her out.

“get a room, you two!” suguru chuckled from the other side and watched both of your faces catch an adorable shade of pink that would be hard to get rid of once the same thing might happen later.

because satoru is definitely getting another kiss from you.

“ew! look how ugly that is!” riko squeaked out of disgust, pointing at a strange-looking creature that desperately tried to bury itself back in the sand before another wave of ocean water arrived and filled the hole again.

the worm-like creature kept digging even after many failed attempts to disappear from the hungry seagulls who kept circling above the four of you for the past half hour.

“ew!” your boyfriend yelled, voice high-pitched when he burst out laughing at the poor animal trying, but failing, to borrow itself away from the flying predators, “don’t worry, princess!” he jumps in from of you, “i will protect you from that gut-wrenching alien!”

“it’s a sea cucumber,” you deadpan, watching suguru and riko chuckle at satoru’s reaction—which was giving you a long face before letting his head fall in defeat, close to throwing a tantrum, “help it, satoru.”

“you’re no fun!” the boy huffs but listens to you anyway. his colossal hands dug deep into the sand, and once reaching a good size, satoru stared at you in silence.

“what?” you question.

“come put the thing into the hole.” satoru gulps, wondering if you’re playing about being clueless about what he wants you to do, or if you’re dead serious.

“why?” you question again.

“it was your idea!” satoru yells. his voice held nervousness and more cracks than the strongest would like to admit.

“don’t tell me you’re scared.” you tease, earning a chuckle from suguru who leaned over your ear to whisper, “oh, he definitely is.”

satoru gasped, “no way!”

“just admit it, i won’t laugh—” you get cut off, needing to bite your lip in order not to burst out laughing because the strongest is afraid of a little sea cucumber.

“you’re already laughing!” the white-haired boy protests, pointing at you with one of his long and slim fingers that he didn’t dare to wrap around the animal.

you roll your eyes at the sorcerer and decide to put the situation into your own hands. so easily, you pick up the marine creature and put it into the hole that your boyfriend has dug. he, immediately, throws the leftover sand back at the sea cucumber right before another wave could come.

“i don’t want to see that alien near me ever again!” satoru made a fake gagging noise, holding you by your shoulder so that you won’t have the audacity to run away and find yet another sea cucumber—and maybe even chase him with it.

the sun began to set soon enough. the seagulls were gone, no longer praying on the poor sea cucumber. riko was wet from being thrown into the ocean water by satoru, and you and suguru spent a lot of time building a perfect sand castle. in secret, suguru would peek around, making sure all four of you were safe, and nobody was here to take the star plasma vessel away.

“we should go back,” suguru suggested, dusting his hands to get rid of the leftover sand he used to build a sandcastle. you nod at his words, turning around to call out for the two other idiots who are still in the water, “satoru! riko!” you yell, catching both of their attention.

satoru stuck out his tongue at the young girl before using his long legs to reach out to you and pick you up without effort. “you look ridiculous!” you squeaked. the leftover sunscreen that didn’t sink into his skin was decorating his cheeks and nose, making him look paler than he already was.

“back we go!” satoru yells, rushing past his best friend to be the first one to reach the hotel—with you still in his arms, looking like a princess the way he was holding you.

by the time satoru sets you down, you’re already in your hotel room. exhausted, you collapse on the bed, “i’m going to take a shower,” you mumbled into the sheets before you picked yourself up and grabbed your towel.

“alright, princess!” satoru grins from behind you, sending you a small wave before you disappear into the bathroom of your hotel. the sorcerer could finally let his grin drop, the same exhausted collapse on the bed following his mind.

but he couldn’t. he had to stay up for the sake of riko. even if it meant another sleepless night would have to haunt the already tired sorcerer. he was the strongest, after all. one night without sleeping won’t kill him.

“satoru?” you call out, confused. the room was empty by the time you stepped out of the shower—no sight of your boyfriend. your footsteps were quiet as you moved down the hall, only to find satoru sitting in the lobby alone.

you kneel in front of him, “you should sleep.”

“can’t,” satoru hums, “too dangerous.”

you sigh at his words. the whole star plasma vessel thing was fucked up and already made your head ache. and the fact you had to watch your boyfriend’s eyebags grow by each day wasn’t helping.

“don’t worry about me, [name],” satoru assured you as if reading your mind, voice visibly tired as he spoke.

“i’ll still worry about you,” you begin, placing a soft peck on his lips, “but i’ll let it go. just . . . don’t exhaust yourself too much, okay?” you blink up at him, and for the last time this long night, he shot you his iconic toothy grin.

you waved at him, ready to turn around and leave—as you were grateful he was sacrificing his own sleep hours so that you could have yours. not until you heard his sweet voice.

“don’t forget to dream about me!”

the first thing in the morning was your boyfriend clinging to your arm, asking: “did you dream about me?” with a pout and puppy eyes that begged you to play along and say—

“yeah,” you ruffle his hair, “i did, ‘toru.”

satoru does a girlish gasp, covering his open mouth with both of his hands like a high-school girl—partly mocking sweet riko, who was eyeing him from the other side of the public plane.

your boyfriend stuck out his tongue, earning a smack from suguru, “cut it out, satoru.”

satoru’s reaction was a huff and dramatic snap of his head towards your direction. you, too busy looking out of the window, didn’t notice his glare. offended by your “not on purpose” ignorance, satoru let out an even louder, and more dramatic huff.

“do you need something, satoru?” you ask, finally tearing your eyes from the amazing view you got from up here.

“your attention?” satoru grins, and once hearing your heavy sigh, he knew he won. spreading himself all over the place, his head landed on your lap just like it did the first time in the threader. the memory almost brought tears—

“hey!” suguru yells, eye-widened, “get your feet off me!”

you lean forward to take a better look, almost bursting out laughing. in order for satoru to place his head on your lap and fit into his seat at the same time, his long legs spread all over his best friend’s lap. poor suguru, of course, didn’t appreciate that kind of behavior.

“deal with it,” satoru mouths, fixing his glasses by using his middle finger to push it further up his nose—flipping off his best friend in his favorite way. suguru stared back at him in disbelief, shaking his head with squinted eyes.

satoru didn’t take his legs off suguru for the rest of the flight, and the other male had to just suck it up and let you and your boyfriend have a romantic moment. but suguru would lie if he said he wasn’t irritated by satoru’s smug grin when you massaged his scalp.

the strongest didn’t have to watch his buddy’s angry stare ever since he drifted off, leaving satoru and you alone for a few hours.

“princess?” satoru spoke, and even when he likes to bother his best friend any chance he gets, his tone is quiet, not to disturb his sleep. you hum, and he continues, “i love you.”

your eyebrows furrowed, “i love you too . . . is everything okay?” you ask just in case, not expecting him to say something so casual with such a strange expression.

for a second, satoru freezes. your eyes were so soft while you waited patiently for his answer, not rushing him and expecting an answer right away just like everybody else in his life did. he was the strongest, right? what took him so long to answer such a simple question?

“everything’s fine,” satoru assured you, but you didn’t fail to notice the desperate squeeze he gave your hand. your hand sent a squeeze back, and the boy relaxed back into your lap, nodding, “promise.”

“take a nap, okay?” you suggest. the flight will last longer than all of you thought it did, and a little taste of sleep did sound nice—satoru thought it through and nodded.

satisfied by his choice of answer, you shifted yourself a bit lower to give the sorcerer more room to fully relax. he was grateful that you didn’t want him to wake up with an aching neck and burning spine.

and trust me, he did thank you by the time all of you woke up and stepped out of the plane. but now, as you walked up the many stairs of the jujutsu high, your legs ached for just a quick break.

“so─many─stairs!” you huff and take a step up with every pause, earning a shit-eating grin from your boyfriend who was able to walk up multiple stairs at once without even breaking a sweat.

“we’re almost inside the jujutsu high’s barrier,” suguru says out loud, and you wish you could just tell him that the fact he just mentioned didn’t help your aching legs or your tired brain that was overthinking all flight after satoru fell asleep.

speaking of satoru—he kept grinning all the way upstairs, never once leaving your side. as if he wanted to watch you suffer with each step.

“i could always carry you, you know?” satoru’s annoying grin got wider, if that’s even possible, as he was eager to watch your reaction. you, of course, turned him down.

the second you pass the last stair, you bend over to catch your hands on your knees. the way you gulped and gasped for air made suguru laugh as he praised everyone for making it to the top.

your eyes rolled back in “pleasure” when the jujutsu high barrier’s cold air made contact with your sweaty skin, and you sighed in relief. the only thing you needed right now was a cold shower.

the comforting feeling left as fast as it came when a warm liquid splashed your cheeks. horrified, your eyes shifted to your left to find the source—only the find your boyfriend with a sword pierced through his torso.

“satoru!” a blood-curdling scream that echoed through the whole jujutsu high campus called out his name, and suguru wasted no time to rush to you, who were already running to your boyfriend.

suguru’s curse was quick to send the attacker away, but when you reached out to help satoru, his palm stopped you right away. “i’m fine,” he smiled, acting like his uniform was not completely soaked in blood.

you were still in shock, unable to choke out anything “just ‘cause your boyfriend was fucking stabbed in front of you and his blood was on your face.” satoru felt bad for the scene he caused—even suguru and riko were worried.

“[name],” satoru said sternly, one hand cupping your cheek to fully ground you into listening to his words. which were, according to him, very important, “you and suguru, take riko and flee. i’ll finish him off.”

you wanted to slap satoru—scream and yell at him for how insane he must have to be to just tell you to leave him all by himself while you, suguru, and riko ran to safety. but then again, he was the strongest. who were you to argue with someone like him in a situation like this?

so you nodded, took riko by her arm, and together with the other sorcerer that was already waiting for your lead, you ran. there was only one thing you could do—believe in him.

“believe in the strongest,” you have told yourself, having enough faith in satoru to let him fight someone who was able to trick his infinity and land a perfect stab that made the time itself pause, letting everybody process that fact.

satoru would laugh, “a perfect stab? he wasn’t even able to hit my fetal organs!” you could already imagine the cocky grin he would shoot you just to make you feel less worried.

but now, the strongest has been announced dead.

the moment those words reached your brain, you were already thrown to the ground with a gun pointing at your motionless body. you could pick yourself up and continue the fight—but what was life without satoru, the only thing that made your life as a sorcerer not so miserable?

your face was still covered in satoru’s blood, which was now dried up. even while finding the motivation to raise your hand and clean your skin, the blood was simply too hard and stuck to your face.

your cheek lay against the cold concrete as you didn't have the energy to get up from the position the man had thrown you into. now, you were basically forced to watch suguru’s curses destroy the temple in the hope of killing whoever started this.

but is this what you really wanted? was this something that satoru would wish you to do? lay down and hear suguru’s screams whenever he got slashed across the chest, or even slammed into the hard walls of the buildings?

maybe you did consider yourself useless, but against the man who killed satoru gojo himself, everybody was—even suguru. but the difference is that he didn’t give up. hearing his best friend die stung, and so did the death of riko when he watched a bullet fly straight into her brain and watch her drop dead right in front of him. but suguru dusted himself off and kept fighting.

but by the time you somehow managed your shaky arms to support your weight to sit up, the man was gone—and so was riko’s body. you were useless to protect the girl and fight against the enemy.

the least you could do was limp all the way to suguru and help him reach shoko in time. you already lost one fucking important person in your life and you were sure as hell not gonna lose another one. so you ignored the burning feeling in your legs and dragged the male to shoko.

during suguru’s treatment, you stayed quiet. the cold wall that pressed against your back triggered every one of your nerves—if that was even possible, considering the fact that your whole body had been shut down the moment you received the news about satoru—but you were too weak to even pull away.

“[name],” yaga’s voice shook you out of your thoughts, disoriented eyes weakly lifting to meet his, “satoru’s alive.”

star religious group facilities—you never ran so fast in your life like you did right now. from one place to another, you cursed yourself for the members who have built some many of these places, as if one wasn’t enough.

“slow down!” suguru yelled. you didn’t listen, jumping off one of his curses to reach another building where you were supposed to meet satoru. so far, it was no good, and both of you were unable to spot the familiar white hair you grew to love.

the door was harshly torn open, and you were ready to let out a disappointing whine at the lack of people in the room. the thought was far from reality.

a bright room filled with hundreds of people, all dressed in white. the clapping sound of their palms directly hitting against each other made your ears ring. even suguru, who was peeking out from behind you, began to worry at your reaction.

the room went quiet when your eyes landed on the tall man walking right towards you. people didn’t stop clapping, and suguru’s mouth moved but no words came out.

there he was─the strongest, alive.

“you’re late, suguru, [name] . . .” satoru’s tone had caught you off guard. he sounded so emotionless, and his stare was blank, not a single ounce of his personality showing. the light in his eyes died too, making you choke up a sob you didn’t dare to release.

there was no need to cry. satoru was right in front of you, alive. his heart was beating, and every fetal wound he had back then was gone.

“should we kill these guys? the way i feel right now, i doubt i’d feel anything about it,” satoru asks. you froze, blinking.

the strongest was far away from being fine. later that day, all three of you returned home with a new kind of trauma that would haunt you for the rest of your life. but that was the life of a sorcerer. helping the weak and taking all the burden on yourself so that others don’t have to.

satoru was a bit shook up, only capable of creating a small form of sentences—a good start. but in the morning, he’ll be the same sunshine as he always is. that was all you could think about as you dragged your soap-covered hands up and down satoru’s back, watching all the blood fall by your feet and drench somewhere into the sewers.

shoko had already cleaned you up, but when satoru was already fast asleep in the comfort of his bed, you stayed up all night to dig your fingers into your skin in the hope of getting rid of the feeling of satoru’s blood on your face.

something like this will never happen again, you swear.

“great. now you need to add—” whatever came out of the woman’s mouth next was just blurred-out words—good for nothing sentences as you stared at the burnt pancakes with horror in your eyes.

months passed since the star plasma vessel accident, and you have grown more comfortable. satoru has been doing better too, not affected by the past events anymore.

now, you stood in the middle of the jujutsu high dorm’s kitchen. the food you have been currently working on has been burned into near ashes, making you question your cooking skills.

soon enough, you grew tired of the smell and decided to clean up so the other students wouldn’t have to work in a mess you created by your poor attempt at the evening snack.

you left the window open just in case your nose got too used to the smell, and the others would have different experiences with the terrible smell—avoiding scolding from yaga, who would never allow you to cook again. even if it meant for you to starve.

but when you returned to your dorm room, your moment of peace and quiet didn’t last as long as you wanted it to be. a small and almost shy knock came from the direction of the wooden door. too curious to ignore the person and throw yourself on the soft cushions of your bed, you rushed to answer whoever was waiting outside.

you were shocked to make eye contact with satoru, whose teary eyes and irregular breathing hinted to you he was on the verge of a panic attack—your thoughts were confirmed when a heart-breaking sob left escaped his mouth.

“h-he left . . .” satoru whispered, lips trembling. before you were given the chance to ask something, you watched him gasp for air with a pained expression, “he fucking left me!”

you stood frozen—who left? you don’t recall any news from yaga that was more recent than a few weeks ago. through the months of being a sorcerer, you never experienced the loss of someone who would decide to leave the school.

perhaps you misunderstood, and satoru was hinting at some random friend of his that he had never mentioned before. maybe they passed away, leaving your boyfriend shaking and in tears as he knocked on your door. but even then, whose absence could affect him this much?

“suguru!” satoru sobs as if he had taken your confused face as a hint for him to explain. unfortunately, his brain was mush at the moment, and the only thing he wanted to think about was getting rid of all the sadness—with your help.

“suguru? what do you—satoru, don’t . . .” you slurred out when you felt his hand weakly tug at your pants, and you immediately knew what his intentions were. you couldn’t allow him to trust you with removing his sadness, not when it involved a still unknown situation with suguru.

“p-please! please, please, please!” satoru sobs, even louder than his first try was. obviously, he wanted you to pity him and give in to drown him in the pleasure he needed so badly.

you shook your head, sternly stating: “satoru, no.” but his loud cries never died down—in fact, they only increased at your rejection. he just wanted for you to let him escape reality, so why did you keep saying no?

satoru fully broke down, hugging your waist from his kneeling position as if his life depended on it. “n-need you, please. just this once . . .” the puppy eyes he had given you was something he used only to really convince you to do something. but even then, he never used it in a serious situation like this.

“not right now, satoru,” you slowly lift him up, forcing small steps out of him before he collapses on your bed, “you’re in pain right now, you don’t realize what you’re saying. by the time you sober up, you’ll regret what you’ve asked for . . .”

the strongest shook his head and kept clinging to you like a baby koala, too afraid to face the reality of the world. what you were saying was true, and satoru’s actions weren’t as healthy as they sounded—but why did it hurt this much?

“b-but—” satoru gasps at the lack of oxygen in his lungs when he tries to confront you about whatever is happening right now but fails to do so, sobbing with frustration, “just this once . . . all i’m asking for—please!”

you weren’t sure for how long you could keep up with your rejecting act—you wanted to take away all of his problems and satisfy all his fantasies that currently fogged up his mind, so when he blinked up to you with those pretty long white lashes, you gave in with a sigh. “just this once, ‘toru.”

you gently laid him down, using pillows and blankets to make a spot comfortable enough to let him fully sink into the moment. satoru, carefully picking, chose a safeword in case the moment wasn’t as dreamy as he expected it to be.

everything was fine. satoru gave you his consent multiple times to the point he thought you were planning to edge him the whole night—tears appeared in his eyes again.

the first kiss of the night was gentle, mostly just helping to distract satoru when your hand traveled all the way down in order to wrap around his graciously pretty cock. you coo at his whimpers, “i know, i know.”

satoru moaned the second you gave him a few testing pumps, looking out for any sight of discomfort or pain.

“more,” the white-haired boy whispers when he decides the stimulation of a few “testing” pumps isn’t enough, and he wants the full experience that you were willing to give him. so carefully, your wrist moved faster.

everything was spinning. getting so much movement on his poor virgin cock from something else that wasn’t his own hand when he jerked off was a different feeling—a new kind of feeling that satoru began to like more and more.

when you increased the speed to keep the pleasure going, your thumb accidentally brushed over his tip. you mentally slapped yourself, noting to be careful next time. but satoru didn’t seem to mind. not when his back arched off the bed with a loud mewl escaping his lips.

“oh, you liked that?” you cooed at him and repeated the same process of rolling your finger over his tip. satoru’s reaction was the same, just slightly more intense with the way his cock shamelessly released an impressive amount of pre-cum.

satoru kept liking all the interactions you had with his cock so far, so the level of enjoyment didn’t decrease once your hand moved faster with the help of the sparse liquid.

the rest of his shaft became wet and slippery, basically letting you just guide your fingers to the tip before letting them fall down to the base. somehow, the movements seemed to trigger something inside the sorcerer when a fucked-out giggle left his throat.

“s-so good—it’s so good!” satoru hiccups between his words, mainly babbling to himself. and truth be told, he didn’t really care if you thought his behavior was weird. fortunately for him, you weren’t one to judge, not in a moment like this, and you kept going.

your hand shifted in different ways, looking out for places that were more sensitive than others in a way satoru could not describe. the male took an immense liking to the area near his tip, or even the tip itself—you noted and kept stimulating the same spot that made his eyes roll.

“c-close!” satoru’s tone was almost shy as he spoke. the familiar burning feeling inside his stomach rose at a rapid speed. he began to squirm underneath you of the sudden pleasure that harshly flexed his tummy, “g-gonna cum!”

“mhm,” you were quick to coo at him with small kisses all over his face. but your innocent touches failed to distract satoru’s attention from your brutal strokes of his cock that were successful to send him over the edge.

“c-cumming!” satoru’s voice was high-pitched before his orgasm washed over his body for the first time of the night. when his release landed all over his tummy, you hummed a praising sound that left the sorcerer trembling. but it was not enough. satoru wanted more.

you checked up on him, making sure he was alright after such an intense orgasm that looked almost painful in a way you couldn’t describe. oh, if only you knew how much pleasure he was in—you would have kept going without a question or pause.

“are you okay, sweet boy?” your gentle voice made satoru feel like he was floating somewhere in heaven. somewhere far away from all the pain and the burden of the world he had to carry as the strongest. especially after failing to protect so many people in his life.

satoru choked on his own sob, and his face was quick to twist from extraordinary pain at the memory from earlier. you still didn’t know what was happening because if you did, suguru would have ended up with a few broken bones for hurting his best friend in such a cruel way.

but you didn’t know, not yet. so you held satoru close to your chest in an attempt to soothe his cries. you’ve already told yourself the session was over when the male shook in your arms from the mix of his orgasm and whatever happened between his and suguru.

but to your surprise, satoru didn’t take this as the end. no, he craved—“o-one more . . . please!” he whimpered against your chest with teary eyes tightly shut. he didn’t want you to see him like this. not when he was so vulnerable.

something about the way satoru kept clinging to you as if you were to disappear made your eyes soften. the sorcerer was so close to escaping the misery that you couldn’t just decline now. with a sigh, you nodded.

satoru expected another handjob—that’s why he kept his eyes shut and let you shift positions so that you could get the work done easier. but when he felt something warm lowering itself on his cock, he gasped.

“shhh,” you whisper, cradling his head back to the original position on your chest before satoru can do it himself. if he knew that knocking at your door with tears in his eyes would lead to you riding him, he would have much sooner.

the moment you were adjusted to his size, your hips began to rock themselves against his. you moved slowly, carefully dragging whimper after whimper from the boy underneath you, who was currently staring at you with blown-out eyes.

you were a goddess to satoru—you had to be. the way you gently caressed his hair, the way you prepped small kisses on his face, the way you moved slowly so that satoru could preserve every roll of your hips.

right now, he wasn’t the “god” who shifted the balance of the world due to his birth. in this situation, you were.

satoru broke down crying, but what he admired the most about you was that you didn’t stop. long ago, he told you to keep going, that he’s okay because he wants this. and you listened to him, not daring to pause your movements.

the boy whispered something, but it was faint. you weren’t able to pick up a single word he tried to say, feeling bad for not being able to respond to him—solid proof that you’re listening. but satoru was too deep into this, and thanks to his constant babbling, you were able to hear his thoughts.

“d-don’t leave . . .” satoru whispered, a bit louder than last time. it was still uncharacteristically quiet for somebody like him, but you were lucky for this position to give you better access in order to hear him.

satoru sobbed this time, fingers digging into every inch of your skin that he could reach. at this point, he was basically dragging you down with him, and you weren’t even allowed to rise yourself anymore to properly ride him.

the strongest, for the first time in his life, was terrified. he was too shaken from the events earlier, and the thought of you following the same path as suguru made him shake in terror. he couldn’t let you leave, not now.

“p-please don’t leave!” satoru wailed, “n-not you! anyone but you! i-i can’t—” his sobs continued on, and on for quite a while, and your hands ended up cupping his tear-stained red cheeks.

“i’m not leaving. you know i won’t . . .” you whisper. one of satoru’s hands flew to yours, weakly interlocking his pinky with yours.

satoru sniffed, “promise?” he could only choke out much, his throat raw from the previous breakdown—not like he cared either way, he was just too tired to try to get his voice to work normally. you nodded, “promise.”

that’s all it took to make satoru’s grip on your skin loose. he no longer held onto your shoulder with a death grip like you were to get up and leave, no. he allowed you to move after you made your promise of not leaving him.

satoru had to choke up another sob when your hand moved to catch his, bringing it up to your lips. you took your time with the kisses, making sure to leave no place untouched.

his knuckles were white from the grip he had on the sheets, or maybe even your skin earlier. you weren’t sure which one was it, since both of them were pretty brutal and made the skin over his bones look paler than usual.

when your lips moved to his palm, you noticed a fresh open cut. the wound held a shape of thin lines that looked almost way too familiar to his fingernails. you took a mental note to ask about it later—once he’s mentally ready.

you placed the last kiss on the nail on his middle finger that held an unhealthy color due to being squeezed for too long. whatever happened with him and suguru, if satoru thought about using that technique, it must have been serious.

satoru was too deep in his thoughts by the time your hips started to move again. the feeling of your slow movements made his eyes roll back to the back of his skull. he thought you being rough with him would be the best option for his brain to shut down—but once tasting the gentleness from your slow pace, satoru chose a winner.

“you’re doing so good, pretty boy. keep breathing through your nose,” you praise him, knowing it will catch his full attention before taking the opportunity to remind him to breathe properly, not wanting his sobbing mess to catch another near panic attack.

satoru blinks up at you through those long, white eyelashes that are soaked and stuck together with his tears. his blue eyes look majestic—they always do, but now, they are just so pretty and glossy from the salty liquid on his waterline.

every time your hips rose before slamming down, the tears threatened to escape. whatever it was rolling down his red cheeks or falling on his thighs, satoru struggled to keep them stay in place.

“i-i tried to stop him—” you carefully listened to his words as he did his best to speak through his heavy breathing of his incoming orgasm, “i really did! b-but he—oh god!” his words were cut where you sped up the pace.

“you did well,” you whisper, being gentle as ever when placing a soft kiss near his ear. “i don’t really know what happened between the two of you,” you admit, ignoring satoru’s high-pitched noises as he began to claw at your skin when his tummy begins to flex again.

“but i know you did a fucking good job,” you finish, and he does too. satoru screams into your shoulder that had been marked with his well-kept nails, sobbing along his release. you kept stroking his hair, feeling his cum fill you up.

the milky ring appears soon enough, and your hips finally come to a stop. satoru didn’t complain this time, letting you coo at him and whisper sweet nothing’s into his ear. telling him what a “good boy” he was, and how he “took it so well”

he didn’t feel so miserable now. the memory of suguru’s back turned to him as he walked out of his life will never leave his mind. it will never not haunt him everywhere he goes—the burning feeling inside his chest will forever stay.

but somehow, he couldn’t think about it when your gentle touches were pulling him to cloud nine. the way your hand caressed his thighs while the other one dragged the wet towel to clean up the mess you two made while his head was gently placed upon your pillow gave him butterflies.

the lipgloss he always wore was dried out now, making the skin feel weird and wobbly. but satoru found the strength to tear his lips apart and say what he wanted you to know.

“[name] . . .” satoru whispered softly, “thank you.”

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californiannostalgia · 4 months

Text

I am so fucked up about piper jason and leo

I got my percy annabeth and grover hyperfixation out of my system (and my luke and thalia obsession as well), but it's winter break and I'm still busy and I'm thinking about the lost trio

because heroes of olympus is sort of their series

hazel, frank, reyna, nico: all iconic characters with chilling moments of incredible awesome

percy and annabeth: we all know we will never stop yelling about these two

but leo, piper, and jason set the tone. they set the expectations. wolf baby, invention child, and knife teen, putting out multiple bangers like: 'what the fuck is my last name', 'what the fuck is my knife trying to say', and 'why am I on goddamn fire'. they were hyperactivity central. they had so much fuckery going on in their lives.

HOO was about these suspicious bastards learning to trust other people and to live with their own failings. they were supposed to be the enemy: a spy, a Roman, the first shot fired in a war. and they said, nope, I'm gonna be a hero today. they kept trying to kill themselves as a solution to a problem, and then they went on to kill giants and gods.

they had no chance of blending in. their heritage made them so very visible, at all times. but the good thing about having the weirdest best friends is that you no longer feel so horrific being the weirdo that you are.

they beat the biggest fucking Great Prophecy, but they still couldn't outrun the Fates. every time I think about them I am messed up.

#pjo #hoo #piper mclean #jason grace #leo valdez #percy jackson #my thoughts #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo spoilers #hoo spoilers #toa spoilers #the lost trio #au: roleswap

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jiminjamms · 10 months

Text

sex therapy :: 18. behind closed doors

chapter tags/warnings: mentions of sex. infidelity/adultery. misogynistic! naoya. manipulative undertones. strong language. classism. heavy angst.

word count: 3.2k

notes: there was a lot dished out in the last chapter, aha! i promise that the storyline's background will get elaborated on in the following chapters. also, this chapter is posted just as jjk season 2 is on schedule for release! so excited to see our man toji and the iconic sashisu trio in full action. likes, comments, and reblogs are deeply appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

“Leave me alone, woman!”

Those were Naoya’s words as he pushed you aside from the foyer, beyond aggravated that—on the one evening he sought a reprieve from his apartment—you followed him to the door, interrogating him on his whereabouts. In his honest opinion, you had no business sticking your nose into his personal matters.

He thought he had made his intentions clear that other night, when you first confronted him about his infidelity: that there was no love in his marriage with you, that he had long promised his heart to someone else, and—the most important bit—that he would not meddle into your affairs so long as you did not meddle with his.

These past few weeks, he had completed his part of the promise. At the very least, you should give him credit for the many evenings he spent pounding his thick semen deep into your warm core, ensuring that not a drip would be wasted.

The thought may have been in vain, but you were sure that you were winning your husband back.

Sure, Naoya Zenin was by no means a big cuddler. Instead, he was the type to mumble a terse ‘good night’ after he had gotten his own orgasm, tossing over to his side of the bed as he slapped your thighs one last time.

But tonight was when you realized that Naoya had never changed at all.

With nothing but a nightgown, you chased after his fast paces. “Then, will you be home in the morn—”

“Know your place before you speak,” he countered impatiently, not showing the slightest worry for the way your lower lip trembled. With great irritation, he ignored your frozen form, departing with one last comment that inflicted a thousand times more pain than any physical wound: “In the Zenin household, all you are is a fucking ornament.”

In other words: pretty, nice, and ultimately useless.

Which is how you ended up suffering alone, all the bottled-up torment gushing out the very moment Naoya disappeared past the front door.

Truthfully, you were not sure how long you had been sobbing, shaking, and crying. As the tears that blurred your vision cleared into a puddle by your feet, you stared into a nearby mirror reflection. Sorrow etched into your features: vibrant eyes now dull and cheeks with remnants of cascading tears.

What did you do to deserve this?

Was this because you were the homewrecker to begin with? Was this your punishment for marrying a man who had already promised himself to someone else, for hindering the romance between your husband and his true lover?

Naoya’s secret girlfriend, not his lawfully wedded wife, was whose existence had carved a special place in his heart. But you?

No, you were just his toy, a ragdoll to be tossed to the side once he was done and tired.

If only you weren’t so selfless. Your life would have been easier if you cared less about being a people pleaser and instead prioritized your mental well-being.

But Naoya had made a point. His father Naobito and your father Daisuke had spent months arranging the marriage details, determined to solidify the relations between two of Japan’s most influential households.

‘We wouldn’t want them finding out about our part-time flings, now would we?’

Weeks later, these words from your husband still echoed fresh in your head. Naoya was right, he and you were married for a reason. Although he had long been devoted to another woman and you had secretly indulged in various extramarital ventures, your vows to each other had been pledged in a ceremony that graced television screens and magazine covers. Renouncing the marriage and subsequently disclosing the reasons would not only leave you both falling from grace but also begin an ugly feud between families too powerful and dignified to see themselves lose.

At this point, there seemed to be no solution to your marriage, nor did you desire one.

With this, anyone could tell you desperately needed someone who would listen to your anguished thoughts. You needed someone who would empathize with your frustration and your sentiments. You needed a therapist.

Perhaps...a sex therapist.

Suddenly, you remembered. Mind in auto-pilot, you traveled toward the unit's walk-in closet, connected to the master bedroom from the side. With so many handbags on display, you nearly forgot about this one Goyard tote placed toward the bottom had it not been for the very important business card you had left inside.

You rummaged through the purse and fished a thick black badge from an inner pocket.

Dr. Toji Fushiguro.

Delicately, your fingers traced the name etched in graceful and golden strokes, seemingly flowing over the card’s sleek surface. Your last encounter with Toji, that one evening in Teyvat, didn’t end prettily. How you now wished to apologize to him, to tell him that he was right, that he had always been right—about how you had deserved better, about how Naoya could never truly like you, and about how you should have been considering a divorce long ago.

When the scattered light from above played upon the card, your eyes were drawn to the embossed numbers below his office’s address.

What if...you called him?

No, you really shouldn’t. Toji could not be burdened with your internal agony. Not at this late night hour.

But if your own therapist Toji wasn’t the one to talk to, then who would that be?

You abhorred how you were alone with your thoughts and, surely, no one else—not your father, and definitely not your husband—would want to deal with your emotional turmoil.

So, you decided.

Grabbing your phone from the tabletop, you dialed the number, the sound of each digit pressing against the screen echoing in the quiet room and your nerves dancing in tandem with anticipation as the phone started to ring.

What if Toji didn’t want to talk to you anymore? Besides, you did just depart suddenly and angrily the last time you had seen him. Honestly, you could still back out from this call if you wanted to. Maybe the better decision would be to sit in your own discomfort and try to figure out the solution yourself rather than—

“Good evening, you have reached Dr. Toji Fushiguro’s line after hours. How may I help you?”

Wait, who was this?

For a moment, panic crashed upon you. Interacting with strangers was never your strong suit, but there was a familiarity to the enigmatic timbre that hummed on the other line. The first and last time you dialed Toji’s number, his son had picked up, giving your call a very awkward start. Whoever picked up this time was not the teenage boy, however, and you pursed your lips in an attempt to identify the mystery man.

“Geto...?” you murmured when the realization struck.

Upon recognizing your voice, the said man paused briefly, likely surprised to hear from you but moreso bothered at the shakiness in your tone.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Can you please,” and you stopped.

With floodgates bursting, you melted onto the floor with a choked sob, clutching your nightgown to ground yourself. Gosh, you had to stop sniffling if you ever wanted to finish your sentence. What a mess you were, your syllables punctuated with shaky inhales.

“Can I please talk to Toji?”

When the line fell silent once more, your heart raced. Only when the words fell from your mouth did you realize how offensive you may have sounded. After all, Geto had mentioned that Toji was off the clock, and what was wrong with confiding in him?

“Sorry!” you half-yelped and half-choked, grateful that no one else could see the tears streaming down your cheeks. “Sorry, Geto! I’m certain that you’re a wonderful therapist too and would be an amazing person to talk to, but—“

“Send me your address. I’ll pick you up shortly.”

And Geto was true to his word.

Within fifteen minutes, a Porsche Cayman turned into your street, the vehicle’s yellow exterior gleaming from the street lamps before slowing to a stop not too far from your apartment building’s entryway.

From the curb, you could peer inside from the windows, seeing Geto in the driver’s seat. He slicked his long hair back, the strands bunched up with an elastic with stray tufts resting behind his neck. He smoothed his top—a Hawaiian shirt with pink pineapple prints (just how many button-ups like these did he have?)—and rolled his window down completely.

Geto threw one arm out to greet you with a wave and then, with his chin, gestured toward the empty shotgun seat.

“Get in.”

Compliant, you wrapped around the bumper before getting inside. The interior was a creamy leather, leaving you to sink into the material that wrapped around your weight like warm water.

The moment your seatbelt clicked into place, you were suddenly pulled toward the side in one swift motion as Geto tucked his fingers below your chin and lifted your head.

His lips.

Upon turning towards him, the first thing on Suguru Geto that drew your attention was his lips. Plush. Smooth. Lightly parted as though they invited you to explore the mischief within.

A dangerous expedition, that would be.

You realized you had never seen Geto up close before, mere centimeters from him such that his breaths fanned hotly across your cupid’s bow. He had a nice jawline too, not to mention defined cheekbones that blessed him with strong features rolling against his softer angles. When an unexpected glint caught you off-guard, your gaze shifted to the silver piercings that adorned each brow. Edgy. You liked how the metal accentuated his natural arches, shining when headlights from passing cars shone into the vehicle.

When he blinked, you then turned to his eyes, and goodness—you met the most intense inky pools that could ever peer into your soul.

How long had he been looking at you like that? Why did he look at you like that? With those insanely dark depths that swam with so much curiosity that you almost wished you hadn’t looked at him to begin with.

Almost. Almost wished.

Thankfully (or not), Geto averted his gaze first. He inspected you instead, gently wiping at a small black-tinted streak near your chin, his brows pinching as concern tugged his handsome features.

“Been crying?” Geto prodded. Of course, he noticed the glassy film that shone on your pretty eyes, the puffiness that dabbed your warm cheeks. When you did not immediately reply, he brushed a warm thumb over your lower jaw. “Listen, cupcake. You may not know this about me but...” he paused, the usual glimmer in his sharp eyes darkening into a chilling stare. “...whoever did this to you, I will fuck them up.”

At his offer, you forced a sad smile.

“Nobody,” you lied. Geto had already had taken the time to comfort you with his presence at such a late hour, and he could not be burdened with the pitiful details involving your marriage. “Just some personal stress with—”

“It was Naoya, wasn’t it?”

Just hearing your husband’s name left you frozen, your heart suffocating in pain. “Was...it obvious?”

As the man clicked his tongue, he brought his hand up again. He brushed a few strands away from your face, tucking them loosely behind your ear with lithe and tattooed fingers, your earrings swaying softly with the movement.

“I see lonely eyes like yours more often than I’d like,” he explained, expression sullen.

While you had once registered Geto as outrageous and unscrupulous upon your first encounter, you were starting to realize that he was—in fact—incredibly empathetic.

"You do?" you asked quietly.

At the question, he pushed his lips to one side and sat up straight, placing his hands on the steering wheel so that he could idly drum his fingertips on the surface.

“Everywhere. I see those hopeless and confused gazes everywhere,” and his tone was melancholic as he started a list, “Clients in sex therapy because their partners can’t satisfy them, clients in sex therapy even if their partners can satisfy them. Don’t even get me started on some unfortunate patients I’ve seen from the hospital’s OBGYN department when I work there.”

Given Geto’s carefree nature, you had forgotten that he had mentioned his work in the medical field before, and you let silence hang in the air while you quietly contemplated the emotions Geto must encounter as a practitioner across various disciplines.

Noticing the resulting sigh from your lips, Geto relented. He really wasn’t the type to poke his nose into other people’s business, anyway.

“Listen, you don’t have to say more if you don’t want to,” he offered, easing the silence by re-adjusting his rearview mirror. “I get that. I respect your privacy.”

When the engine rumbled to a start again, you peered over your shoulder. “Then, where are we going?”

After such a somber discussion not long ago, Geto’s lips twitched upward, appreciating how comical you could be.

What a silly question, he must have thought.

“To the one man who can understand your situation better than anybody.” With his left hand, Geto signaled right to pull away from the sidewalk, his indicators blinking against the road. "You were the one who wanted to see him, no?"

You twiddled with the wedding band on your finger, a habit you have yet to drop. "I thought Toji wasn't working now."

"He's not. Usually, I'd handle any late-night emergencies for him, but I'll take you to his place instead."

"Oh." That did not make you any less anxious. "So, he knows I'm coming over then?"

"Nope," the therapist answered curtly, and he popped the 'p' in his response. "But, you know, just for you," and Geto shot you one last wink, "he would do anything."

Toji was not the 'broke motherfucker' that Sukuna had once made him out to be.

What broke motherfucker lived among Tokyo’s tallest residential skyscrapers?

As the Porsche slowed upon arrival, you craned your neck to gaze at the colossal structure, which was no normal residential building for Japan’s middle or lower classes. Rather, this was an extravagant premise clearly tailored for—not even the nouveau riche—but for the descendants from old, old money.

While Geto pulled into the entrance's porte cochère, y ou had to ask, "This is where Toji lives?"

How his colleague was able to afford such a luxury in the Minato Ward, the most expensive neighborhood in not only the Japanese capital but also the entire country, was beyond your knowledge. You glanced over at the vehicle's infotainment system at the center, which—according to Google Maps—indicated in bold lettering that your destination was, in fact, to the left.

You glanced up again, the high rise making you feel like an ant in Disneyland. "Sure you didn't take me to the wrong address?"

Shifting the gear to park, Geto nodded assuredly. "A hundred and ten percent positive."

"But then," you turned toward him in your seat, "Sukuna called Toji broke? Toji could not afford this if he was broke."

At first, Geto lifted a brow in confusion. But as the words sank in, his fingers traced along the wheel as he chuckled. "Ah, that. Toji just isn't where he could possibly be."

"Could possibly be?" you repeated.

He hummed, looking ahead. "Longest story, honey.” He sat back in his seat, toying with his man bun in thought. "Shouldn't be a tale for me to tell anyway."

Your mind might have buzzed with curiosity, but you conceded. Whether Toji wanted to reveal his private matters was not something for his colleague to decide.

"Look," Geto pointed beyond the shotgun seat window, "the footman's here."

Following the direction of his gaze, you glanced behind you to see someone approaching the car. With white-gloved hands, the attendant opened the door in one controlled swing, waiting patiently and wordlessly for you to disembark. Half-expectantly, you waited for Geto to get off as well, but he shook his head.

"I can't stay here," he informed and pointed to a nearby signage. "I can only drop you off because I can't leave my car here for too long. Besides, I've got plans."

"You do?" That should not surprise you. Didn't Sukuna mention that Geto had something going on with, what was her name again, Shoko? Wasn't she, like, his girlfriend or—

“Work,” he replied, reminding you that he was the therapist on call tonight. He then turned to the footman beyond the door, ducking slightly so that he could catch the escort's gaze. “This young lady is here for the Fushiguro residence.”

“Of course.” The footman offered a warm grin, stepping back to gesture you inside. “Right this way, Mrs. Fushiguro.”

Mrs. Fushiguro?!

The misplaced designation really shouldn’t have caused your heart to flutter as much as that did, but you could feel your entire body grow warm, hoping that no one could notice how you broke into a flustered sweat.

“Ah, I’m not—”

“Thank you for taking care of her,” Geto interrupted with an impish smile, his eyes crinkled into mischievous half-moons. Oh, he found this funny, didn’t he? He tipped his head to the side, and he waved. “Have a wonderful evening.”

“Hey! I—” How dare Geto leave you like this?

Yet, with the footman already heading back inside, you could not finish berating him, instead focused on scurrying after the steward’s long strides like a squirrel.

Once at the entrance, the heavy glass doors parted automatically, and the lobby inside must be a whole other world. Fresh blooms nearby welcomed you with their sweet perfume as a staff member behind the concierge desk acknowledged your presence with a slight nod, a gesture you shyly returned. Meanwhile, the marble floors clicked to your footsteps as scones along the walls washed the vicinity with cozy hues, plush armchairs to the side offering a small sanctuary. Living amongst such splendor yourself, the sheer elegance in this space was not anything new, but what you were marveled by was the fact that the Toji Fushiguro lived here? In this very building?!

“The elevators are over there, madam,” the footman called when he must have noticed your stupor.

You blinked rapidly, otherwise not noticing that you were headed in the wrong direction. “Oh.”

He led you down one grandeur hall, scanning a card at various security checkpoints to allow you through. Upon reaching the elevator bank, he pressed a button at the dispatch screen, and the rightmost door opened with a number on a dashboard indicating that the lift was headed to the forty-ninth floor.

Upon yourself stepping in, the doors slid to a close and offered one last view of the footman who had angled himself into a bow.

It was ridiculous how skittish you were as the elevator ascended, the Mozart tune from the overhead speakers doing little to calm your nerves. When the doors reopened a little less than a minute later, you were introduced to another warmly-lit corridor. The passageway itself had a design similar to the lobby floor except with one large abstract artwork centered across the elevators.

At an incredibly slow pace, you neared the only door on the floor, the entrance’s deep dark mahogany surface looming over your much smaller presence. There was no turning back now, and you pushed the small glowing button at the side.

There was no response.

Of course, there wouldn’t be. You had only rung the bell ten seconds ago, but anticipation rushed to your fingertips. While holding your breath, you turned to your clicking heels.

You battled your body’s thrumming desire to flee and, just as the seconds seemed to stretch into hours, the door finally cracked open.

Your gaze shot up.

On the other side, Toji stood—silent and stunned. There were a million questions that you caught running across his murky emerald eyes, but a much-needed sense of relief embraced you as you met his familiar, comforting gaze, tears welling up at your lashes all over again.

“Can...we talk?”

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: Unrelated, but I've recently started my full-time job! Balancing my personal and health priorities along with my work has been challenging, but I've made a point to still work on my fics as writing and interacting with my readers (you!) genuinely makes me happy. Sending love and hugs to you all.

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @hinativity @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @piqer @nobody289x @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @vvestwoodrose @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @obitohno @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @moodpi @blackdragoncigarette @puffaloxx @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

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mcyt-trios · 6 months

Text

PROPAGANDA:

The Bad Boys:

They were so entertaining to watch. All of them share one singular braincell and they keep losing it. They couldn’t even keep Jimmy alive.

They’re goofy little guys! Who doesn’t love them! Have you seen any clips?! Plus, ladder talk podcast. Iconic. One of a kind. Never been done before. The hijinks! The tragic ending! They’re very much the best bad boys on the internet

They’re each a lil dumb but put them together and they get so much stupider, it’s wild. We love irl pals who work together and are terrible influences on one another. They actively build a brand of mutual bullying, true friendship <3

they are everything, they are sunshine and love and nonsense and digging straight down, they stay loyal the whole time and are messes without each other!

“Bad boys bad boys whatcha gonna do, watch’s gonna do when they come for you”.

Familoier:

I CANT SPEND THE NEXT HOUR TYPING

THE TRIO OF ALL TIME TRULY- ALL 3 OF THEM LOVE AND CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER SO MUCH- LIKE ROIER AND CELLBIT ARE MARREID YEAH BUT THEY STILL CONSIDER JAIDEN PART OF THEIR FAMILY SHE IS IMPORTANT TO THEM AND THEY ARE IMPORTANT TO HER- ROIER AND JAIDEN WILL ALWAYS BE PARTNERS NO MATTER WHAT

theee relationship of all time: roier is husbands with cellbit and jaiden is his qpp, they are all so caring for each other and they have had their tension and their bad moments but there's a genuine want to communicate and grow better all the time :( <3

Cellbit and Roier are romantic married, Roier and Jaiden were platonic partners raising a child together, and all 3 are chaos together! But get along so so well! They support each other so much and care about each other so deeply and they are all Sillies

this is jaiden, and this is jaiden's partner/ the father of her child roier, and this is roier's cannibal husband cellbit

#mcyt-trios #mcytblr trio bracket #polls #round 3 #mcyt

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denimbex1986 · 4 months

Text

'As David Tennant bursts back onto screens for Doctor Who‘s 60th anniversary, he’s also made his solidarity with the LGBTQ+ community clearer than ever.

The 52-year-old star features alongside former co-star Catherine Tate as Donna Noble in the trio of Doctor Who specials from returning showrunner Russell T Davies. The cast also includes trans Heartstopper actress Yasmin Finney as Donna’s daughter, Rose.

Finney’s prominent role in Saturday’s (25 November) episode “The Star Beast” sparked fierce reaction with LGBTQ+ fans praising the inclusion and bigots (as usual) sharing their fury.

Tennant’s three-episode run – which has already involved a heartfelt conversation around correct pronouns – kicks off a new era of Doctor Who which promises major LGBTQ+ talent as Ncuti Gatwa takes over as 15th Doctor this Christmas.

From Drag Race icon Jinkx Monsoon to musical theatre star Jonathan Groff, there’s plenty in store for queer fans.

Throughout it all Tennant has remained a steadfast ally, so here’s five times the acclaimed actor has showed up for the LGBTQ+ community throughout his career.

David Tennant making waves with trans Tardis pin

In the lead up to the Doctor Who 60th anniversary, Tennant appeared on The One Show and The Last Leg earlier this month where the Scottish actor was spotted wearing a trans flag themed TARDIS badge as a small act of solidarity with the trans community.

Naturally, fan praised the actor for his initiative, but the wholesome saga doesn’t end there. The badge creator, Dr Jamie Gallagher, soon announced on Twitter that over £18,000 had been raised in badge sales and all proceeds would be going towards LGBTQ+ homeless charity AKT.

Humbly reacting to the joyous news, Tennant later said while he couldn’t take “any credit”, the badge perfectly “suits what Doctor Who is all about”.

It’s not the first time Tennant has showed his support through the medium of pin badges. Earlier this year eagle-eyed fans spotted him wearing a non-binary Pride badge on shows such Saturday Night Takeaway, The Graham Norton Show and This Morning.

Unapologetically standing up for trans children

In July this year, Tennant took his pro-trans message one step further during the press run for Good Omens season two.

In a viral image, fans caught a glimpse of him sporting a black t-shirt with a crystal clear pink hued slogan emblazoned on top. “Leave trans kids alone, you absolute freaks”. We love to see it.

The top, which comes from online store Crooked, caused a stir online with many fans flocking to social media to share their joy. Around a similar time the TV star was spotted wearing (yet another) badge with the pride colours and the words: “You are safe with me.”

The pin badge managed to rile up anti-trans activists Posie Parker and Graham Linehan who launched separate attacks on Tennant, insinuating he is a pedophile and “groomer”.

But this hasn’t deterred Tennant, who continues to stand up for trans rights.

Delivering an emotional speech during Pride month

During Pride month this year, Tennant appeared on the Ed Miliband’s Reasons To Be Cheerful podcast where he praised the importance and joy of Pride month in modern day Britain.

“Do you know what’s making me cheerful at the moment? It’s Pride month,” he told the podcast.

“The fact that Pride Month is existing and is flourishing and is something that’s happening at a time when the world seems to be getting in some corners worryingly intolerant and weirdly backward.”

As usual his words impacted LGBTQ+ fans who shared that his powerful statement moved them to tears.

“We can’t take our foot off the gas,” the actor continued. “We can’t expect that we will always travel in the right direction towards acceptance. We’ve all got to be fighting that fight every day.”

It’s a message echoed by his wife Georgia, who shared her solidarity with the trans community in October after an attack by prime minister Rishi Sunak. “To the trans community, I stand with you now and always. I, like you, am going nowhere,” she said in a post on X.

Spreading the message of inclusivity in his TV series Good Omens

Doctor Who is not the only sci-fi, fantasy world Tennant has inhabited this year. After four years, Prime Video finally dropped the second season of Good Omens which sees Tennant playing demon Crowley opposite Michael Sheen’s angel Aziraphale.

In a wild turn of events, after huge fan speculation, Crowley and Azirphale made their romantic tension explicit after sharing a dramatic kiss at the end of the season.

Although fans will have to wait until the (still to be confirmed) third season to find out if the loved up couple will finally get their acts together, Tennant has no doubt about the importance of inclusivity in the series, which he spoke about during an interview with the RadioTimes podcast.

During the interview, he explained that the show delivers a message for “this fractious moment” in society that earth can be “quite a nice place to live”.

“That’s why this show connected with a certain group of people,” he continued. “There is an inclusivity to the world view of Good Omens, there’s a joy in celebrating whoever you happen to be.

“And that’s something [creator Neil Gaiman] is very keen to communicate: a message of kindness and openness. That is why the tone of Good Omens is positive, open, joyful and fun.”

Once an ally, always an ally

Tennant’s allyship hasn’t just started over the past year.

As far back as 2008, during his stint as the 10th Doctor, he hit back against the idea that dressing flamboyantly and being called “gay” is an insult during an interview with The Telegraph.

A few years later, in 2012, he showed his support for a Diversity Role Models campaign tackling homophobic bullying.

“It is essential that young people have the opportunity to meet role models from the LGBT community to help break down the stereotypes and prejudice that lead to bullying,” he said at the time.

A decade later, it’s no surprise David Tennant has consistently proven himself as an LGBTQ+ ally, through and through.'

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findafight · 9 months

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i don't get why robin and eddie clocking each other is so popular. firstly i find it kind of cheap esp since it's usually a set-up for robin and/or eddie being all-knowing arbiters of lgbt knowledge while steve is clueless and dumb and not lgbt enough (despite usually being bi) to partake in this exchange as well. then it's otherwise used to establish an immediate connection between robin and eddie since they are both gay which automatically makes them besties. secondly it doesn't make much sense w what we see of either robin or eddie. like we know robin struggles w social cues and we see that that extends to sexual orientation through her interactions w vickie. also i think she is just not paying that much attention to eddie i must be honest. then w eddie he spends his time campaigning for the stancy revival while steve blatantly stares at his mouth so. i don't think he'd be good at that either. like the irony in this being so common is that steve is the person that does clock someone else on top of being consistently socially and emotionally intelligent and perceptive. idk sometimes i feel like ppl take him not clocking robin as proof he's incapable of it despite him then clocking someone later and being right, and that s3 scene fitting into the broader context of steve being lonely, insecure, and off his game for most of s3 as well as between s2 and s3. tbh missed comedy potential w steve being the one person in that trio that actually knows what's happening.

oooohg yeah i feel you anon. Not to say that all the fics that have these tropes in them are bad! it just. sometimes gets annoying? I don't want people to feel too bad about it but yes agree.

I think it really is used as a way to fast track their friendship. Truly unfortunate that it's often used to make them all knowing queer guides instead of the disaster teenage gays they are.

Robin is a small town lesbian who is only out to one singular person, she does not know anything, let alone vague little queer codes that might be happening. She wouldn't know Eddie was queer for a variety of reasons. She says herself she's not good at reading people! She's also busy worrying about if she's doing something that might out her or make people suspicious of her, so she's not analyzing other people's actions. She does not care about men that aren't Steve enough to pay enough attention to figure out if Eddie is queer or not lol. She can't even figure out if the girl she likes who likes her back is queer when her best friend is telling her. Oblivious icon! open your eyes, queen!!

Eddie had a man he deliberately broke a moment of romantic tension between his love interest by throwing a vest at his face staring at his lips and still pushed him towards said love interest. Sir. what are you doing. and once it's clear stncy isn't happening you know eddie would be like okay. why aren't you dating Robin? hmm? she's cool! and causes Steve to Suffer. (Steve was flirting with Eddie .5 seconds before he started on this please get with the program Eddie!!)

Also think it's silly that people would stereotype Eddie as Queer from how he dresses as though that's not just how a lot of people dressed? long hair was In in the 80s. Metal fashion was there. It also likely had some/a lot of ingrained homophobia in the subculture (as many things did). Sorry Eddie, but I'm pretty sure our boy Brucie did more for the gays than metallica. (Kissing Clarence Clemens Right On The Mouth Many Times On Stage thank you mr. springsteen and mr. clemens sirs.)

Steve's the only one of these three that 1) knows how to flirt 2) knows when someone is flirting with him 3) has consistently demonstrated being emotionally and socially intelligent to observe people (more than arguably anyone else in the series) and 4) has any kind of functioning gaydar. Totally agree that Steve not clocking Robin despite his gaydar is that he was way off his game, insecure, in a funk, pathetic sad meow meow era, and in a weird state of squish-or-crush on Robin, that was pushed towards crush by Dustin but slam dunked into squish by Robin coming out (does that make any sense?)

I truly, truly believe Vickie returned Fast Times paused on 53 minutes and five seconds specifically when she knew Robin and/or Steve would be the ones to rewind it. Why else would she not rewind it? when clearly they knew who had rented it and could potentially out her if they read into it? She was getting vibes from robin and knew that Steve would at least report Back to Robin (I refuse to believe the championship game was the only time stobin gossiped like they did. Vickie knows their shenanigans.) so she decided to be indirect but kinda obvious about it!! And while Robin is denying this Steve has seen the truth, he knows exactly what Vickie is doing. (would be very funny if Steve and Vickie clock each other, and then make eye contact like I know what you are. They deserve to become funky little friends while Steve is trying to get her and Robin together.)

#stranger things #robin buckley #steve harrington #steddie #rockie #robickie #stobin #stranger things meta #vickie stranger things #findaanswers #anonasaurus

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 9 months

Note

Hi! Can I request some Genderbend Sleeping Beauty x Isekai Reader? (Please no princess reader I've seem them everywhere on qoutev)

Yandere Genderbend Sleeping Beauty x Iseakai'd Reader

Tending to a human man the moment you’d been dropped into this alternate world was not the ideal position. Originally being instated in the castle as a charity-case servant you hadn’t made any connection to the fairy tale. Not until the head butler brought you to a familiar trio of faeries; dressed in blue, green, and red.

“My my their magical signature is quite–”

“Bizarre?”

“Unique?”

“--I was going to say, perfect for the worst-case scenario.”

Supposedly because of your outlier existence, the faeries had designated you to be their human help. Should the prince–Briar Rue fall into the curse of the spindling wheel he’d need constant care. It was a contingency plan, a tragic plan to set everyone in the kingdom to rest until the princess would return to save him with her kiss. Unlike the kingdom, the prince’s curse was cruel: continuing to let his bodily functions continue as he slept away.

“It’s just in case.”

“Yes, not likely at all.”

“--All because it just doesn’t work on you.”

“Mariwether!” “Mariwether!”

“Sorry, forget that I said that please!”

That was why in the span of a week you were meeting and serving the cursed prince that had spent the entirety of his life in a forest. A position that would have many of the staff sneering at you as waited on the prince’s hand and foot.

“All of this is so overwhelming (Y/n)...I don’t want to marry a girl I haven’t met. Even when I’m so madly in love with another.”

The prince was doing an iconic Disney Princess mope, leaning against the barred windows of his room in the castle. You continued to fold away his forest attire, smiling to yourself as you replayed the animated version of the fairytale.

“Well I have a feeling you’ll meet her sooner than you may think.”

He turned his sorrowful gaze to you, tilting his head at your ominous smile. He questioned you no further, opting to conversate with you about the ‘modern’ nuances of popular society. Which you were just as uninformed about as him. Needless to say, the both of you were on something of a learning curve, relying on the staff and fairies to fill the both of you in.

Two days.

Two days ago he was learning alongside you how to waltz. The day you were dismissed it was in an explosion of emotion. A reaction of his overwhelmed self in this stressful environment; had you sent away and retiring early. Living in such a hierarchy was new to you and your knowledge of the future meant nothing at the intensity of his order. That being said you didn’t blame yourself when the fairies arrived at you, heads hanging low with tears in their eyes.

____________________________________________________________

As agreed upon you had begun your caretaking duties of the prince. Waking every morning to wash, dress, change his magic feeding trey, and placing the medieval equivalent of a diaper as the day forged on. Whether you are familiar with the task of caring for someone so intensely it soon becomes a habit for you. Becoming a part of a mundane routine for yourself. Care for the prince, have breakfast, read some outdated literature, and repeat. After the first couple of days, you got quite used to the hollow echoing chamber of an otherwise empty castle. Minding the unconscious staff and royal families; it was bliss.

While you certainly had the time to teach yourself the rules and etiquette of the time, this couldn’t have been the healthiest way to go about it. Without the commentary or viable presence of others, you had begun to speak out loud. Talking to sleeping bodies and non-sentient objects had become you’re normal for the following month. A commonality of that time was being freaked out when any of the fairies decided to make themselves young; they were considerate usually catching your attention in a flurry of sparkles. A fair warning, for whenever they came to grieve.

Towards the end of the month, their visits had a different tune; singing their praises of the princess who was fighting the malignant Sorcerer king. As evident by the distant roars and green swirling sky, this would be over soon.

“I-I am here to kiss the prince!”

She came to the castle frazzled, wounded, and on shaky legs. You adamantly refused, practically fighting her to eat and let you treat her wounds. In fact, it was similar to how you had been treating the prince for the past couple of months. Shouldering most of her weight as you bathed and dressed her; a process that only seemed to embarrass you. You figured as a princess this might’ve not been so out of the ordinary making it easier for you to send her to sleep. After all that you scrambled to do the same to Briar, and with a sense of finality you carried out your routine.

Cheering to the sleeping Briar, “What do you think of that Sleeping Beau? Your beauty is here and we’ll both be free!”

Waking the next day you finally cooked for someone else, watching as the princess scarfed down her meal only to shake at the door of Briar’s tower. Having full intentions to give them their space, you were shocked by the forceful grip on your apron.

“D-do you think it’ll work?”

“Of course, I do, your grace! I’m sure you will recognize that he’s someone you’ll enjoy kissing awake. Now if–”

“You have to come with me!”

“W-what!? H-hey!”

Without heeding your struggle, she curled her arm around your torso easily hoisting you up along with her as she speedily ascended the tower to the sleeping Briar Rue. It was oddly easy for her to bring you to the room the prince was sleeping in. Leaving you in shock as she began to fiddle with her cape and kilted armor.

“M-maybe i-if I take M-mom’s idea I’ll b-be m-more confident to kiss him!”

“Ah what was your mother’s idea?”

“....”

She went silent at your question; returning your curiosity with a blank stare before shaking her head. Scratching at the back of her head she mumbled to herself before anxiously gripping the handle.

“I–i’ll just wait until h-he’s awake then.”

“W-what?”

“A-anyway do you really think I can do this?”

“O-of course.”

Her nervous demeanor was grating on your nerves, probably because you were more than minutes away from seeing this whole debacle being solved. After minutes of deliberation the princess opened the doubled doors revealing the hauntingly beautiful image of the sleeping beau. She made an audible gasp at the sight.

Shining in the angled light of the setting sun, the stained glass windows of his temporary chamber flashed the mosaic of colors across the sleeping prince. Blonde flowy hair splayed out around his crowned head. His face was still, cheeks oddly rosy and lips perfectly puckered with their own touch of red. He looked ethereal and you couldn’t help but internally pat yourself on the back. Whether or not you were familiar with makeup in the modern world, this world wasn’t particularly fond of the attractiveness of healthy color. But judging by her continued awe the smashed berries you got were a good idea.

“Whoa he’s the fellow from the forest…” She marveled at him tentatively rubbing at his folded hands. She bent forward slowly, lips slowly inching forward before she abruptly pulled away turning from the one act that would end this all. Her worried eyes darted around before falling on you widening with an idea.

“H-h-how about we do this together?”

“Excuse me, what?!”

“Like we both kiss him at the same time s-so that I-I won’t be l-lonely when I do this!”

“What! Why do you want me–a servant of all things to kiss the prince with you?”

It was a viable question; unless she felt threatened by you. But knowing the princess it would be for something less daunting—

“B-b-because! This is my first time k-kissing a prince!”

You shook your head in disbelief but relented when she puckered her bottom lip at you; making the equivalent of prayer hands with her face. You entered the chamber gazing at the both of them before walking around the bed to his lower right side.

“How about this Princess, I’ll kiss his hand and you will kiss his lips though I’m certain it is absolutely unnecessary.”

“Alright! W-we er I can do this.”

With newfound confidence, she positioned herself near his face on the left side of the bed. She looked back at you while making sure you were also in position. To which you nodded urging her to go on.

You originally weren’t going to follow through, faking your involvement but even as she went in for the kiss you still found her gaze flashing toward you. So you followed through lightly pecking the back of his hand, standing up you got to catch a glimpse of the magical moment. Pulling away from the waking prince she nervously peeked with one eye as Briar blinked his own eyes.

“Y-you? From the forest and…”

He looked to the right, blue eyes landing on you or they would have been if the three fairies hadn’t taken your place near the bed.

“Oh, Rue!”

“You’re awake!”

“Yes but–”

“We must awaken the whole kingdom! We must celebrate!”

Any concerns the awoken prince would have had were brought to a hush under the cheers of the fairies and the castle’s jovial celebration. Their prince, to the kingdom’s knowledge, had survived the curse and was reunited with his love: Princess Phyllis of the neighboring kingdom.

______________________________________________________________

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for the wedding?”

“No no I think I’m ready for…the quiet once again.”

“Surely Rue would be happy to see you on his big day!”

“Yes! Yes! I can conjure up something for you! In blue of course.”

“Yuck, that’d be a crime! Obviously in red!”

“Now here you go again–!” “Why I oughta–”

You stepped away from the bickering faeries, continuing to hug the fae in green.

“Thanks again for letting me have that cottage, Floran. I really appreciate it.”

He shifted his glasses, magicking a basket full of food into your hands after you hurriedly adjusted your pack’s strap.

“Deary it’s of no trouble, after all. We have no reason to use such a lovely space. And I’m sure it’ll offer you the quiet you’ve grown so used to.”

He smiled wiping away imaginary dust on your shoulder as he held your upper arm.

“Just be weary, you know we won’t stay away forever now. We’ll be sure to visit.”

“And when you do I’ll be glad to welcome you.”

You both shared a laugh as you had begun to walk to the mule you were discreetly gifted by the royal family. It was decided that you’d be released from your duties both at your own request and at the faeries' discretion. With vague compliments, the royal family could quietly thank you for your mysterious role in ‘solving’ their Prince’s curse. Phyllis was adamant, as she could be, about thanking you but the fairies were stern about keeping quiet. During this time you found no time to speak or so much as look at Briar without it being from the perspective of a bystander by a passing celebrity. You didn’t mind. And it most certainly didn’t stop you from letting the mule lead you to the cottage Briar Rue had hidden in before, more than willing to enjoy the silence and relaxation of the cottage life.

_________________________________________________________

Briar fought the urge to yell as Phyllis went into another tirade about her adventure. Sat near the window of the seamstress’ tower as she was fitted for her wedding gown. An event she and his parents eagerly insisted he attended. It was a brazen attempt to make them get along despite the obvious lack of interest on his side of things.

“B-briar? Er-Rue? D-did y-you hear the l-last thing I said? A-about the d-dragon and the w-wounds I got? I-it’s kind of crazy y-you know b-because when I finally got to the c-castle–”

How did this wake him up?!

It couldn’t have. He knows it. The nights he’s spent hearing warbled words and grunts didn’t make his heart pound for her. Or the warm touches along his chest and arms, they were evidence of someone else. But no matter how much he wracked his brain the thought of who remained a mystery.

Faun assured him it was a small side effect, that the cloudiness of waking up was sure to hover over his consciousness for the next week. That was why he got tired every time he tried to recall the time before his cursed sleep.

“B-briar? A-are–d-do you h-have any questions a-about that day?”

“No Phyllis I’m just trying to remember…”

“Oh okay. S-so, as I was saying (Y/n), was there and th-”

That’s what it was! That’s who it was!

The piece he’s been missing: the memories of the week before. His heart, straying from his so-called love for the mysterious woman in the forest to the clumsy handmaid. He remembered cursing himself and then cursing at (Y/n), sending them away while ignoring the pain in his chest. What could it be, to so quickly change the object of his affection? Was it a problem that when he thought of love all he could see was their face? And even if he was truly devoting his love to (Y/n) instead of the mystery maiden, who turned out to be Phyllis the princess, then what could he do? As a prince himself, he would have no choice but to abandon you in worry that his royal family would reject you for the nobility’s standards; if not for their own biases. It was an endless cycle of heartbreak that had no end.

When the dark sorcerer’s curse came about, he was entirely lucid. Only refusing to follow the green foreboding glow to stew in his own grief. Audibly sighing at the entrancing orb, he only raised his head when the orb transformed into a figure.

“Come child, it is your time.”

“How can it be my time when all is so helpless.”

He tucked his head into his folded arms, hiding his sniffles and bubbling tears as they fell onto the table below. Missing the smile that spread over the sorcerer’s face as he feigned a giddy pity as he patted the prince’s back.

“There there, the faeries spoke of a true love’s kiss. Now I’m sure that you’ve found someone you love?”

The question was rhetoric, the sorcerer was well aware of his rendezvous with the princess in the woods. The sorcerer was certain of this, and it brought a greater smile to his face that he had already acted on this.

“Y-yes…but–well–I’m not sure if it's true love! Since it’s changed so much…”

Feigned sympathetic pats on Briar’s back, allowed the fireplace to morph. Lined in green flames a portal opened opening to the tallest tower within the castle where a new glowing orb waited patiently.

“Now young Briar, the only way to know would be the ultimate test would it not?”

He sniffled, “What do you mean?”

“What better test for you’re love than sleep that can only be broken by true love? Do you not want a method that is tried and true?”

“Tried and True?”

“Yes.”

Giving into the trance the prince rose from his seat, guided by the hand of the one who cursed him. Settled behind his back as he nudged him into the portal and in the direction of the green light. Aware of his curse he followed dutifully, wiping his tears and rubbing his dribbling nose. He came to the orb that materialized into a glowing spinning wheel, needle piked and practically begging for his puncture. Briar reached forward stopping just a hair’s length away to turn to the sorcerer who was growing agitated. Face full of worry and trepidation he pleaded with the horned man.

“H-how will I know that the one who wakes me is the right one? What should happen if the one who stands above me when I wake is the one? There are those who might trick me or–” “Fine then.”

The sorcerer’s voice boomed as he stepped heavily towards him, chest to Briar’s face he held a green flame in his hand. Blue eyes snapped to the flame registering the sound of a snap before the sorcerer pulled away.

“I’ll let you hear everything.”

He opened his mouth to question the action, stopping to let out a scream as his ears burned. He stumbled to the side, nearly falling to the ground as he clutched at his ears groaning from the pain. The sorcerer groaned pulling a hand from the side of Briar’s face in the direction of the wheel. Pinpricking his finger, releasing the hand as the prince retracted his hand inspecting the wound. Eyelids drooping and knees buckling before sending Prince Briar Rue into the beginning of his eternal slumber.

“There dearest Rue, you can hear everything. Even the cries and pleas of all those who come to mourn you by your bedside! I applaud you for your creativity, suffering for eternity will surely bring you an even crueler existence than I would have given! Hahaha.”

He was right. It was cruel to remember having doubted (Y/n) as they cared for him. It was they who had read to him and spoken to him while he was trapped in an uneasy slumber for the entirety of thirty days and thirty nights. Now he was meant to marry the mere attraction of his past, it was truly a nightmare. The only solace he could find was in their servitude. If he couldn’t have them in the way of a lover he’d have them in the way of a king. It sounded cruel but surely that was just because the thought was in his head.

It would all make sense the night before the wedding when he’d call them after the dreaded bachelor party. He’d confess his love within the solace of the private garden he’d been gifted, taking them under the moonlight and the stars as his witness. Oh, how he’d dread the morning! When he would have to repeat such false vows as he betrayed them one time last. But that would be the end of it, the rest of himself would be dedicated to (Y/n) and (Y/n) only.

Or that would be if that wasn’t who he thought it was in the window—

“H-hey! T-that looks like (Y/n) r-riding on that donkey! Doesn’t it Briar?”

Rendered speechless at the sight of your riding form disappearing into the bustling capital city. He could only stifle a fit of frustration as he recognized the familiar trio of red, blue, and green. Post haste he attempted to leave the room stopped by the hand, and following consequences written all over Phyllis’ face. He’d wait for now but when he was done…they’d surely be hearing from the angered and fully awoken prince.

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