#runs away as I curl into a ball and cry some more

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Power

Feyd Rautha X Y/N - drabble - 1.3K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: fluff, murder, the Voice, Feyd being Feyd, some soft moments, some kinda psycho moments, implied sex but nothing NSFW, smack talk

—————————————————

“Good morning my love.” you said as you hugged Feyd from behind as he finished dressing. You rested your head on his broad back, breathing him in.

He smiled softly to himself before turning around in your grasp. “Hello darling.” he said before bending down and picking you up, wrapping your thighs around his waist. He set you down on the bathroom counter, you pulled back to kiss him sleepily.

You hummed in content as he returned your affection, “I love you.” you said to him as you started to wake up fully.

He moved your legs apart to stand between them, caressing your hips slowly. “I have to meet with Rabban and the Baron today. Arrakis is proving to be more difficult than we anticipated.” he sighed.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” you whined as you trailed your hands to his waistband, running your finger along the inside barely.

Feyd sighed, leaning his head against your shoulder. You had not been long married but you adored each other. He felt lucky to have you, and you felt the same. You got to see a Feyd no one else saw. “I must, my sweet.” he said, tilting your chin up so he could kiss you slowly.

You nodded, smiling brightly at him. He moved to walk away but you tugged him back once more to indulge yourself in one final kiss. “I love you.” He whispered.You smiled cheekily as he gave your hand a squeeze before leaving. You sighed watching him walk away; you loved him endlessly.

You hopped off the counter, calling for your maids. They dressed you in your typical pastels. You adorned your black necklace, the same one Feyd wore so everyone could identify you as the Na-Baroness. You wandered the halls of the palace mostly, finding solace in the quiet. You spent a good amount of time in the library as well, finding the books Harkonnens chose to keep around rather interesting. A lot of histories surprisingly. The closer you wandered to the Great Hall the more you heard other voices. You approached a cracked door, hearing the generals inside speak.

“She hardly acts like a Na-Baroness. She is not a Harkonnen, she will never be a Harkonnen. Any child that blooms from her will be weak. A disgrace to the Na-Baron.” one said with venom in his voice.

“She does not even use her skills as a Bene Gesserit, she dishonors everything she touches.” another spat.

Your eyes held hot tears which streamed down your face the moment you turned to leave. The door swung open before you could walk away, knocking you to the ground. The generals stood above you, the larger one scoffed “See? Weak, licentious.”. Their gazes held such malcontent towards you, it burned your very soul. You rushed back to your chambers, throwing yourself into bed before you curled into a ball. You knew when you married Feyd some found you too different to become a Harkonnen. You were the embodiment of your planet: peaceful, bright, colorful, calm, loving. All traits Feyd loved you for, as he had never known such things. It is why he picked you out of all the brides offered to him. You fell asleep crying, wishing the people of Geidi Prime could see you, truly see you..

-----------------------------------

Feyd returned to your shared chambers. He smiled softly when he saw you curled up, until he saw the streak marks on your cheeks. You had obviously been crying for hours. Feyd caressed your cheeks, slowly waking you up.

“What is it my darling?” He said gruffly.

Your eyes immediately watered for a second time that day, “Nothing.” You sighed trying to not let tears spill.

“You have always been a terrible liar.” He said, making you smirk for a second.

“I just wish Harkonnens liked me more…” you said, grasping his hand, smoothing your fingers over his knuckles to calm your anxiety.

Feyd’s face bunched up in confusion, “What?” He said.

“I overheard some generals today… they think I’m weak, that I’m not worthy of being your Na-Baroness… what if they’re right?” You said, shifting closer to rest your head on his chest.

His arms immediately wrapped around you, “Don’t say that, don’t even think it.” He said, you could feel the sadness behind his words.

You nodded, leaning up to kiss his neck. He hummed in pleasure. “Would you… recognize these men again?” He moaned out breathlessly as you began to kiss down his body.

You nodded wordlessly, coming back up to his face. “I’ll give you their hearts.” He said, smiling coldly.

Something about the look in his eyes lit a fire in you, “They want me to be a Harkonnen, let me give them Harkonnen justice.” You said.

————————————————-

You stood in the Great Hall, all of Feyd’s generals lined up before you. You sat formidably on the throne before them, right on Feyd’s lap. You could see the contempt in the two generals eyes before you whispered to Feyd which men it was. Everyone else was dismissed, leaving the four of you in the vast hall.

“It has come to my attention that you both refuse to acknowledge the ascension of the Na-Baroness. Is this true?” Feyd asked in a cold, flat tone.

The generals fumbled; shaking their heads while uttering denials. You sighed, throwing your legs over before standing up and walking down the steps. You were two steps above the main floor, they looked up to you.

“Speak the truth.” You said softly.

“Nothing of the sort has occurred Na-Baron.” One said, sending you a sideways glance. As if Feyd would believe them over you.

“KNEEL, BOTH OF YOU.” You said using the Voice. They wanted a Harkonnen Na-Baroness, you were going to give them one. One who took advantage of all powers they possessed.

The men knelt before you, you walked closer grabbing one’s face harshly. You could see in his eyes how much he hated you. How much he wanted to fight back.

“SPEAK THE TRUTH.” You commanded, the Voice reverberating through the hall.

The men spoke without control, rambling about how you were unworthy of being the Na-Baroness. About how soft you were, how you were unable to conform to Harkonnen ways.

Silence fell over the room, you released the man’s face roughly. You made your way back to the throne, speaking as you went, “You believe I am soft. And you’d be right. I am merciful.”

You looked at them once you reached Feyd, reaching for his hand before you settled on his lap again. “But you do not wish for mercy. You wish for a Na-Baroness who follows the Harkonnen ways.” You kissed Feyd’s neck up to his cheek before looking back to the men. “I wish to bathe in red. Run me a bath.” You said.

The men looked between each other, confused. “CUT OUT YOUR HEARTS.” You commanded.

You and Feyd watched in delight, the men fighting against themselves to no avail. Cutting deep into their chests you would never forget the sound of their ribs cracking as they reached inside their chests, ripping their still beating hearts from themselves. You watched them fall, hearts in hand. The pool of blood grew by the second.

You called for a servant, who looked horrified at the mess, never knowing you to do something like this. “Yes Na-Baroness?” They said softly with their head down.

You didn’t like their fear, but you liked the respect and power you had over them. “Preserve their hearts for me. Bring them to our chambers.” You ordered.

The woman nodded, scurrying out of the Great Hall. “We should return to our chambers.” Feyd whispered into the crook of your neck.

“Oh? And why’s that?” You said, meeting his gaze.

“Because I have never wanted you more than I do right now.” He breathed out, nipping at your neck as his hands smoothed over your hips and thighs.

You moaned leaning back into him, “Take me here Na-Baron. Take me on your throne.” You kissed his lips before moving to straddle him.

“As you wish, Na-Baroness.” He said before pulling your dress open, attaching his lips to your chest.

—————————————————

Naboo’s Note:

Hey! Thanks for reading! I loved writing this one it was based off a request. Sorry the post is a bit late, work got real crazy. Let me know if yall enjoy it! Love yall xoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxo

#feyd fanfiction #feyd imagine #writing #feyd smut #feyd x you #feyd x reader #feyd rautha #feyd oneshot #feyd rauth harkonnen #harkonnen #house harkonnen

[nightmare-foundation]

Honestly it lowkey annoys me whenever people say that Michael has 'very little personality' outside of hunting down his father.

N like- on the surface, that seems true, but like. If you look deeper, that's... not really true?? Because there's a LOT that actually speaks to his character, but you have to be willing to catch onto the connections his character has

Like, for example, Michael has a very straightforward way of speaking. He's dry and sarcastic ("They thought I was you... [laugh]"), has a foreshortened sense of the future (the drawing of a gravestone in the security logbook), not to mention the dialogue of foxybro in fnaf 4. He doesn't beat around the bush, but he's bitter and dry and sarcastic. Even as an old man, his anger and cynicism towards Freddy's shows in his drawings, but he has a sense of humor (the exotic butters and casual bongos referenced in the logbook, not to mention the silly drawings), plus he's sentimental (as said before, exotic butters and casual bongos). Not to mention he's stubborn as shit, given he keeps coming back to Freddy's, even after 30 whole years.

A lot of people also really like to write Michael off as being stupid, for... some reason. The games really say otherwise; the fact that he tampers with the animatronics regularly, figured out what his father did and what happened to Elizabeth in less than a week, freed the dead kids, helped make FFPS and ran a business, likely Also made the fnaf 3 location too, knew what was gonna happen to him in SL (pretty clear given the fact you can ignore Baby's directions on the last night), can manage several animatronics at once throughout an entire night...

Michael is very clearly Really Fucking Smart. Smart enough that I'm willing to bet that was one of the reasons why William sent him to the SL bunker. Michael is FAR from an idiot, and the FNAF movie even proves this further! He's SCARILY smart!

There's a lot more too; him using a red foxy mask speaks a lot to his character too. Red is often used to denote everything from passion to anger (yknow, 'seeing red' being a term for when you're blind with rage), and he wears it the entire time he bullies CC. It's not just a literal mask, it's figurative too; Michael puts up a mask of anger, he pretends to be this scary bully. The cruelty isn't real, Michael is just the scapegoat and he's acting out (very very common).

Also, Michael is 100% who you play as in fnaf 4 based on the movement, and who rubs away in Midnight Motorist. CC is the type of kid to freeze up, curl up into a ball and cry when he's scared, as seen several times in fnaf 4. It wouldn't make sense for him to suddenly turn around and start running around, or fighting back. It's very Michael to run around, constantly looking around, or to break out and run away.

Another note on Michael's character is that he's associated with Foxy. The Funtimes are clearly modeled after the Aftons (Ballora and Baby are, why wouldn't the rest match CC (Freddy) and Michael (Foxy)?), and using that we can gleam some parts of Michael from FT Foxy (since William clearly was trying to mock and make fun of him with the angsty teen voice). FT Foxy is a performer; he's dramatic, he's vicious, attacking even when he 'shouldn't', and wants his stage solely to himself.

This fits Michael; Michael put on an act of viciousness and cruelty, always attacking when you least expected it. So it makes sense that Michael, too, is a performer, and FFPS hammers this in using the business bear. Again, the mask represents Michael acting, pretending, and it wouldn't be the first time an Afton would pretend (William, Elizabeth, and to an extent, CC). The rest of the Aftons are also theatrical and dramatic, so again, this tracks. He's also represented as one of those hand puppets in the ffps alleyway poster, something used to ACT.

And again, with Foxy, we can gleam that Michael likely is also a sort of 'leader' figure, since Foxy has been depicted as not just a pirate captain, but also as a Ringleader. This also tracks, not just bc the Aftons have a circus theme, but Michael is the eldest of his siblings, and thus the de facto 'leader'. He's the first to act, to put things into motion when everything 'ends'. Foxy is also, well, a fox, which are depicted as cunning and intelligent, which only lends credence to Michael being intelligent.

It's also implied that Michael... doesn't really care about people who Aren't his family?? Whether that's by blood or not, he doesn't care abt others who isn't his family. This is implied by the fact that he only cared about freeing Elizabeth, showing absolutely No care about the Funtimes despite them clearly being sentient. Not to mention the lawsuits he regularly gets in FFPS, or the state Fazbears Frights is in in fnaf 3. And, judging by Henry's final speech, he and Michael just. Don't seem to talk At All. At the very least they definitely don't communicate since Henry assumed Michael wanted to die (which is left Very Ambiguous).

Honestly this doesn't even BEGIN to get into everything that the Glitchtrap Michael theory says about his character that also hammer in all of these traits Even Further.

And like. Michael is SOOO much like William when you put all of this into perspective. Like, they are SIMILAR similar, but differ in ways that are important. Michael is a performer, an actor, he doesn't care about anyone outside of his family, he's stubborn as fuck, he's smart as hell, he's sarcastic and dry, etc.

He has SO. MUCH. CHARACTER. You just have to dig a little- this is ALL gleamed from the games and Security Logbook. There's more if you believe he's Glitchtrap- which he very likely is.

Just... it's nuts. He's such an intriguing character, he's not perfect and he's morally gray, yet people love to dumb him down to "hehe sad uwu arsonist zombie boy who's also Stupid"

Please just let Michael be a problematic old man (he was born in the 60s ffs, he's almost in his 60s by the time ffps rolls around).

#felix (host) #fnaf #michael afton #glitchtrap Michael theory #fnaf analysis #mike schmidt #five nights at freddy's #fnaf theory #william afton #elizabeth afton #the crying child #cc afton #evan afton #henry Emily #let him be a grumpy old man please

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[seepingfrommyskin]

I watched dead poets society after wanting to watch it for MONTHS.

And.

*starts crying, shaking, breaks down into loud sobs*

IT WAS SO GOOD I WAS NOT DISSAPOINTED

#go watch it if you haven't #it really is great #still a bit teary eyed #dead poets society #runs away as I curl into a ball and cry some more #we can all agree todd and neil were in love right #...right?? #listen call me delusional but I'm pretty sure they're in love okay

[sixosix]

requested by anon!! hope u enjoy, warning for profanity, fluff

As soon as Wanderer’s eyes laid upon the ball of fluff in your palms, he had said with a disdainful glare to “discard of that at once.”

But you aren’t having any of it. The little kitten curled up by your chest is looking up at you so adorably that you simply can’t discard it, no matter what your boyfriend might say. In fact, the shade of the cat reminds you of his eyes—but saying that would provoke him further, and you’re already on thin ice, letting the cute stray run around your shared home while he makes a face at each sight of its fur.

You coo as the kitten licks your nose when you hold him up to your face. “Do I name him after you? Can I name him after you? I’m naming him after you.”

His eyes narrow, glaring at the impossibly tiny space between you and the animal. “You are not naming it after me.”

“Kuni,” you negotiate. Not that he has a choice anyway because you already have your mind set on it. “Kuni, baby, are you hungry? Do you want some food?”

Your Kunikuzushi bristles, hackles rising. “Seriously? You’re doing this?”

The cat, as if beckoned by his voice, paws at him. “Meow,” the little kitten says softly. Wanderer, to the cat’s dismay, doesn’t respond; he simply rises from his seat and leaves.

So it’s established that you’ve long accepted that Wanderer is not fond of your new pet.

A crying shame because the cat adores him. You don’t know if there’s anything deep to his hatred for your new stray or if he’s just jealous that your undivided attention is no longer on him, but you took pity and decided to own the responsibility of taking care of it.

Which makes it a surprise to come home one day and see your boyfriend nestled against your bed with the kitten curled up on his chest, meowing as he smiles faintly and rubs its head with a finger.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re hungry again?” he murmurs. If you had been in another room, you wouldn't have heard it yourself. “Don’t get too greedy.”

Your breath hitches, too afraid to shatter this moment by bursting into the room. Then again, you should’ve realized that the cat has been sticking too long around him too often without something at play. Perhaps the reason why it’s so fond of your boyfriend is because of secret tender moments like this.

“Your owner will get mad at me if I overfeed you,” he says conspiratorially, rubbing his finger against the cat’s chin while it purrs and nuzzles its face further into his palm for more.

Your heart melts, a tiny noise escaping your lips at the sight of the ever-so-haughty Wanderer on the bed, all but cuddling with your pet.

Wanderer’s eyes snap the crack of the door, perfectly meeting yours as if he knew all along that you were there. “Not a word.”

You gasp, enough to startle Wanderer and make him jump but not enough to wake the sleeping kitten on his hat. Lambad’s Tavern is a little empty, with only an adult or two hanging around to drink their sorrows away or loosen up to their heart's content. And you and your boyfriend are tucked in the far corner, where no one would bother to peep.

“Kunikuzushi!” you cry out, hands hovering around his head in panic. “Kuni, careful, what if Kuni falls?”

Kunikuzushi the human(?)’s face twists in confusion. “You should have never named it that.”

“Kuni,” you hiss as his movements have caused the cat to stir, yet miraculously not wake. “Don’t let him fall, ‘kay? God, I can’t bring myself to even leave my seat.”

He sighs, long and heavy. “I’m not going to drop him. Have more faith in me, will you? I have a better sense of balance than any of you in this Tavern combined.”

“But what if he falls and you accidentally attack him by trying to save him?”

“I’m not gonna wind blade the fucking cat.”

You’re staring at the kitten, who is, unfortunately, looking all too much at home on Wanderer’s hat as if it’s more comfortable than his own bed at home. It’s even worse that Wanderer spoils the cat rotten and lets him sleep wherever he wants. Now, wherever he walks, he has a tiny animal asleep on the top of his head.

Wanderer huffs, squeezing your mouth with a hand to prevent you from arguing. “If you love the cat, you will get us food and avoid waking it up with your yapping, got it?”

“Aw,” you smile, “you don’t wanna wake him up?”

He scowls. “Are you going to let us starve?”

The sight of him and the kitten looks too adorable. You can’t resist from agreeing to whatever Kuni the human is ordering you to do. You rise from your seat, leaving but not forgetting to kiss the cat’s head and Wanderer’s cheek, who flushes brightly and grumbles but doesn’t complain.

#606:GENSHIN #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x you #genshin impact x you #wanderer x you #genshin x reader #genshin drabble #scaramouche drabble #wanderer fluff

[w3irdo666]

Hi! I wasn't sure if you were accepting requests at the moment

but can I get (romantic) Alastor x Lucifer's ex Seraphim Angel wife who he left plz?

S/o eventually left Heaven and still got to keep their wings and powers before it got taken. They meet him around the time he got to Hell and they hit it off

Anything else is up to you if you'd like

Oh, interesting idea!! I'll try my best, love youuu!! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

The Drug In Me Is You

Alastor x Fem!reader x ex!Lucifer

Letter count:

Tags: slightly angst, sfw, slightly possesive behaviour, depression.

Notes: I hope i understood you right!!! Enjoy!!

Lucifer was a wonderful husband.. Constantly enveloped you in love. It seemed to you that you could not dream of anything more. Romantic dates, beautiful clothes, oh, you thought that you would drown in his care.... Which is what happened. Lucifer was undoubtedly magnificent a man...But not a great husband...When you got married, your joy knew no bounds...but...

A year later, you began to notice that he began to pay less attention to you. In the evening, he no longer went to you to cuddle in bed, but just turned his back to you and fell asleep.When you wanted to hug him, threw your hand away and answered annoyed, “Leave me alone.”

One day you were walking through a magnificent garden in paradise. The beauty of nature has always delighted you. Oh, these magnificent scarlet roses.. They look so fragile that it seems that if you touch them, they will fall into small pieces... Birds sang and flew in the sky .Everything was so wonderful, you even forgot about your husband for a while...But suddenly you heard someone’s voice. Your wings trembled slightly, not expecting that someone would be there. You came closer to the source of the sound and, hiding behind a tree, looked whose it was a voice...

Your heart skipped a beat and you felt tears running down your cheeks, like blades piercing your skin.Lucifer stood with another woman. His smile....he had not smiled as much as he smiled at this woman for a long time.You were hurt, terribly. He betrayed you. You were on the verge of hysterics. Turning around, you ran away, sobbing and wiping your tears with your hands.

Everything around you seemed so fake. These light clouds. Birds, flowers, plants. You flapped your three wings and quickly flew. Where? You didn’t know, but it certainly wasn’t where you were flying from.

..............................................................................................................

The next few days were a blur. You felt terrible, you suffered. Lucifer, betrayed you? You couldn’t accept it. When Lucifer was kicked out of Heaven because he got involved with a demon, you didn’t care anymore. You used to be a very joyful archangel. Everyone called you a ray of sunshine. But now... There were black bags under your eyes because of lack of sleep. Your eyes are red, tear-stained. Your condition was immediately noticed by other angels.

“Y/n, honey, are you okay....?” One day an archangel turned to you, concerned about your condition. But she was only met with a few rude words. This alerted her. Soon the angels began to avoid you. The archangels thought about making a decision about your expulsion. But before they could do anything, you expelled yourself. Having opened the portal, you descended into hell. “If I suffer here... It won’t be worse there..” You thought.

Unfortunately, you were wrong. A few days later, you sat curled up in a ball in some alley of hell. Your clothes were torn in some places, your wings were tattered, you felt emptier than an empty glass.Your tired eyes were closed. Your face was buried in your knees. You were so tired that you didn’t even have the strength to cry. Suddenly, you heard someone’s voice. It felt like someone was talking on the radio.

"What are you doing here, dear.With those...wings.Aren't you supposed to be in heaven?" His static voice sounded confident.

You raised your head slightly and opened your eyes. You saw a strange sinner in front of you... He was different from many of those you saw here. He was dressed in a beautiful fitted red suit, his black bow tie was beautifully attached to his shirt. He had a big smile on his face, showing his yellow, sharp teeth. His eyes were calm, but you could see a slight mockery in them.He had black gloves on his hands, and in one of his hands he held a red microphone on a stick.

"W...what do you want...?" You asked in a quiet, pitiful voice. You heard him laugh slightly.

"Ah, nothing important, dear, just curious what such.... creature..like you doing here?" He tilted his head to the side with slight -crack-.

"Who are you...?" You said weakly

"Ah, name's Alastor.Pleasure to meeting you! Quite a pleasure!" He bowed while saying this. You didn't say anything, only looked down at the ground. He continued watching you for few seconds then walked closer to you, standing in front of you.

Alastor couldn't help, but when he saw you, something woke up in him.He was in hell only few month, but still made reputation of dangerous cruel demon.But when he saw your poor, beautiful body, his heart skipped a beat. He felt a strange pull to protect you.

"Such an innocent soul..." he thought

............................................................................................................

You didn't know how it happened, but you find yourself in....his apartment...? With Alastor in front of you.There was a cup of tea in front of you. You looked at your reflection in the tea. You looked terrible. Shabby dirty hair, tired face...The demon continued to look at you, drinking his coffee. His smile never fell, you didn’t even care.

Your weak hand reached for the cup of tea. Fragile fingers clasped the handle of the tea, but your hands were too weak to lift the cup. Alastor noticed this and his eyes narrowed slightly. He put his cup on the saucer. Crossing his legs, he leaned back, watching you.

No matter how he tried to find pleasure in your suffering and raise the cup, he did not feel good. He felt sympathy for you, and a desire to protect. He slowly stood up and approached you.His beautiful long fingers took a cup of tea from your hand and brought the cup to your lips. Slightly surprised by such actions, you looked at the demon.

Opening your lips slightly, you started drinking tea with small sips.

After tea and some food (Alastor feed you too) Alastor showed you way to the bathroom, you needed it.You looked like complete mess.Alastor provided you with a towel, after which you went into the bathroom.When you came out of the bath, prepared clothes were waiting for you... Or rather, a shirt and pants...

When you were changing clothes, Alastor came into the room. He was amazed by your beauty. Your hair.. your smooth skin... Ah, those beautiful wings... He felt his pulse increase.His smile and eyes began to give off shades of warmth.

..............................................................................................................

You lived with Alastor for a long time.You became very close, you started to feel better. Every evening, over a cup of tea, he listened to your worries and sufferings... Usually he would have enjoyed this, but with you, he only felt the desire to calm you down. Every day spent with Alastor gave you more strength, and made you forget Lucifer.

In a hell full of lustful sinners and murderers, you have found comfort in a dangerous demon.No, he wasn't just a demon for you, Alastor, this soul..When he woke up in the evening because of your sobs in the next room, he would sigh and get up heading towards you. When he approaches you, he will lie down next to you and hug you. He hates touching.... But for you he will do anything.He would kill for a feeling of your wings wrap around him when you relax after telling him what bothering you.

When the angels officially kicked you out of heaven, you didn't care so much anymore.You cared only about one thing...only about one person...only about Alastor.

........................................................................................................

"Alastor, where are we?" You asked as you looked around.You were in some kind of garden. Although the flowers were not as luxurious as in heaven, life was visible in them... They looked so bewitching.Alastor coughed and turned away from you. You looked at him in surprise, not understanding his behavior.

"Alastor...?" You almost reached with your hand to his shoulder, but he quickly turned to you.

"Y/n.." Alastor began. His smile was on his face as usual, but you saw the uncertainty in his eyes when he turned to you with one black rose in his hand.You lowered your hand. Oh, how beautiful this rose was... Like an angel of death...

"yes..?"

"i....love you." He extended his hand with the rose towards you. His other hand was tightly gripping his microphone. Your cheeks turned slightly red due to the blush. You felt your heart beating faster and as if butterflies were fluttering in your stomach.He turned his head away, looking away.Without wasting a second, you grabbed his wrist with one hand and turned his face in your direction with the other. Alastor tensed at the contact, but when he felt your soft, plump lips on his, he almost melted.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the kiss. His arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him. You parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to penetrate. You let out a slight moan as your tongues intertwined.

After a few seconds, you pulled away each other. from each other and looked into each other's eyes. You smiled. Your cheeks were flushed with blush, but you were happy to think about it.

"I love you too."

Notes: I hope you liked it!!! Sorry that i didn't lost for a while (⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠￣⁠;⁠)

#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor the radio demon #alastor #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel fanfiction

[barcaatthemoon]

just a kid || alexia putellas x teen!reader ||

you get scared of being kicked out after alexia catches you sneaking out.

you realized as you tried and failed to open the door that you were fucked. for weeks, you had been sneaking out of alexia's to hang out with your girlfriend, and maybe, just maybe, she had finally figured you out. the penthouse apartment was fairly safe, so alexia never locked it. you were locked out of the apartment, and the only way that you'd be able to get back in was with alexia's help.

everything you had ever wanted flashed before your eyes. alexia was sure to kick you out. there was no telling how many times you had snuck out that she knew about already. she was probably on the phone with your parents right now, telling them all about how you'd have to go back home because you were nothing except for a disgrace.

your chest tightened more than it ever had before. your hand flew up to clutch it to relieve some of the pressure, but it was no use. you crumpled down onto your knees, thudding against the door. if alexia hadn't known you were there before, she probably did after that. you couldn't bring yourself to stand up and run away, instead just kneeling in front of the door as tears poured out from your eyes. you couldn't do anything except for cry silently as it felt like all the air was being forced out of your body.

"(y/n)?" it wasn't alexia's voice that you heard at first. that was somewhat of a godsend, but if alexia had called mapi and ingrid over, she knew you were gone. "(y/n)? alexia, come help me get her up!"

"up?" alexia's voice was full of concern, but all you heard was anger. they knelt down and pulled you up onto your feet. gently, the both of them moved you onto the couch next to where mapi was resting. you curled up into a ball the moment their hands left you, but this time, you felt mapi's hand on your back rubbing little circles.

"come over here, i think you're freaking her out. let mapi calm her down, okay?" ingrid gently moved alexia into the kitchen. all she wanted was to go over there and check on you, but she knew that ingrid was right. the two of you got along well, but alexia had definitely been strict with you. she wanted you to be the best version of yourself that you could be, but in that, she had forgotten that you were still a kid, only 15 when you had moved in with her.

"i didn't do this to her, did i?" alexia asked as she peeked her head around the corner. you were breathing a little better, but all that meant was that you were openly sobbing into mapi's lap now. her hand had moved up from your back to your hair, scratching at your scalp lightly as she told you that it was okay. they were only there to help alexia figure out where you might have gone.

"you can't think like that right now because you'll only make yourself upset, and she'll think that you're mad at her. remember that she just turned 16, that's not barcelona's youngest player out there, it's a scared child. don't be a coach, mentor, or her guardian right now, ask her who she needs and give her that."

"i'll try," alexia promised. ingrid let go of her, but stood by the entryway of the kitchen anyway. mapi seemed to take the hint and slowly separated herself from you on the couch. she pressed a kiss to the top of your head before she was completely gone. "(y/n), chiquitita, look at me."

"i don't want to go," you mumbled, the words extremely muffled by the couch cushion your face was pressed against. alexia knew that it was potentially dangerous, but she pulled you back so that you were laying in her arms instead. it proved to be a little bit of a mistake because alexia's heart clenched when she saw how hard you had been crying. even worse than that was the look of sheer terror on your face. "please don't make me leave. i can't face them as a failure."

"i-," alexia started. her voice cracked almost immediately, causing both ingrid and mapi to move in. this time, ingrid was the one comforting you while mapi took alexia back to the kitchen. once she was away from you, alexia practically fell into mapi's arms in a fit of tears. "why does she think that i'd just send her away? have i been that cold to her? should i have even offered to take her?"

"hey, don't think like that. she's just scared, so her brain is going to the worst possible scenario, okay?" mapi reassured alexia. she pulled the taller woman into a hug. "calm yourself down, let ingrid work her magic, and then we can all sit down and talk, okay?"

"okay," alexia agreed. she got herself a glass of water, gulping it down quickly to help her breathe properly. the two of them gave ingrid some time with you before coming back out. you were still sniffling, but it wasn't nearly as bad as before.

"please do not make me go back to my parents. this feels like my home now. i'm happier here than i have been anywhere else. i won't sneak out again, i promise," you rambled. it wasn't as prepared as it felt when you went over it with ingrid. alexia swallowed back a few tears as she knelt in front of you, ignoring the slight discomfort it caused in her knee.

"i wouldn't do that, not over something so small. you're a kid, and sometimes i forget that, but i promise that you doing something every other kid in the world does isn't going to make me ship you back home. besides, i like having you here too much," alexia said as she cradled your face. your eyes lit up, and alexia couldn't help but smile at the genuine excitement and relief on your face. "i shouldn't keep you holed up in here all the time, it's not healthy for either of us. can i ask what you were doing?"

"i guess it's only fair. i was only going to be out for a little while on a walk, but i got kind of distracted," you admitted. mapi brushed your hair away from your neck, revealing the hickey there to alexia, whose grip tightened for a moment before she caught herself.

"where did you get that?" alexia was careful to keep her tone teasing to hide the genuine protectiveness in her voice. you didn't need to hear anything that remotely resembled aggression from her for the rest of the week.

"oh my god!" ingrid exclaimed as she pushed past alexia and mapi to inspect it. your brows furrowed as you looked between the three women in front of you.

"what?" you asked.

"you've got a hickey, chiquitita," mapi told you. you shot away from all of them and ran over to the mirror to check on it. a blush rose up to your cheeks the moment that your eyes landed on the mark.

"i can explain," you said quickly.

"no need, we're all adults here. besides, you should have seen the marks that one and jenni used to show up to practice with," mapi teased. alexia punched her friend before she walked over to you to lead you back over to the couch.

"you're really not mad at me for sneaking out to go see a girl? we did walk through the park, we also just stopped at a bench to look at the lights too. she didn't let me walk back, i swear," you said. alexia smiled, glad that you had been smart. obviously you seemed to know this girl, even if it was more than what alexia was genuinely okay with for you.

"everything is fine, but you should let her know that we are getting lunch after practice and your classes tomorrow. if she's leaving marks like that on your neck, i think i should make sure that she's good for you," alexia said. you knew that there was more to it than that, but you weren't scared. you knew that your girlfriend was a good person, one who treated you how ingrid treated mapi. she was a little older, but you hoped that wouldn't be an issue for alexia since it was just barely over a year.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #teen reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #platonic fic

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24HighSchoolStudents #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental education #environmental justice #environmental protection #environmental health #high school students #high school #youth #youth of america #school

[writingoddess1125]

You get a very dumb cat that loves Simon

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Gnreader and Beans the Cat!

Fluffy Fluff Corniness! 🌽

Support me on Ko-Fi

Or Gofundme

• Being the long term partner to Simon 'Ghost' Riley definitely had its up and downs. One of the downs however is how lonely you'd get when he left for missions

• So after a particularly long Mission were your love was gone for months, you decided that a pet was a good way to help cope with the worry and hollowness.

• You'd gotten a cat from a shelter and had it for only a few weeks before Simon returned. One thing you had realized in the short time you had owned the cat was... he wasn't the brightest

• After returning from picking Simon up from the airport and sharing in more kisses then you knew was possibly Simon walked through the door with a happy sigh at being able to return home till he spotted the changes and the cat sitting dead center of the livingroom-

• "What the Hell is that thing?" He says gesturing to the feline staring up at him with his tongue hanging out.

• "I got a cat!" You say cheerfully, Gesturing to the feline he was staring at. Simon stares at the cat. Watching it blink one eye then another as he took a heavy breath.

• "His name is Beans!" You said cheerfully, Simon raiding an eyebrow at this. Before looking back at the cat and could clearly see there was no greater thought behind the damn things eyes as he meowed at him.

• Simon closed his eyes like he was trying to keep himself from either laughing or crying at the same time-

• "Fucken Hell-"

• He finds Beans to be a constant reminder that some creatures don't need brain cells to survive. The cat while sweet is a fucking idiot, it likes to stare at nothing get what you call 'Zoomies' at the most random times and it perplexes Simon how the damn thing survived more then a day. Especially when it clips a wall during one of these Zoomie moments and he has to turn away to keep from laughing.

• The only time he gets mad at it is when he's doing the Dirty with you and feels a pair of eyes staring at him. Turning his head to see God Damn Beans in the doorway staring at the two of you getting it on.

• "Damn that fucking cat-"

• After a few weeks home and with Beans, Simon wakes up from a terrible nightmare/panic attack. Panting as the shadows of his mind had creeped in on his dreams and plagued him with fear and reliving the worse in his life.. Getting up gently as to not wake you he ventures down to the living room to sit and watch TV to hopefully settle his mind just enough to sleep.

• He sighs still sweating from the panic attack and takes a seat on the plush old couch, Running his hand over his naked face as he tried to relax- feeling the itch to grab his balaclava just to add some security to his troubled mind. He heard the gentle sound of bells catching his attention as he watched Beans get up from his fluffy cat bed and walk to him.

• Jumping onto his lap Beans began to gently knead Simon's chest and stomach region. He remembered you saying this was called 'Making Biscuits'

• "Tryin' to comfort me eh?" He questioned as he gently began to pet the cat who was continuing its late night action.

• After a while of this which did distract Simon enough to feel the panic attack start to fade away, Beans curled up high on his chest and begun to purr loud and hard. Vibrating the whole man's chest like a old school massager.

• He felt himself start to relax as the gentle sound of purring began to lull him to sleep, his hand still on the back of the cat gently as he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

• The next morning when you get up you walk downstairs to see Simon sitting on the couch with Beans still asleep on his chest, curled in a relaxed ball under his warm hand.

• You take at least 100 pictures of this.

• After that night Simon is more okay with the cat and Beans just adores Simon now. Following him everywhere and sleeping on the soldier at every opportunity.

#x reader #cod thoughts #cod ghost #cod x reader #ghost cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod x gn!reader #cod x male reader #cod x female reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x male reader #call of duty imagine #call of duty #call of duty thoughts #call of duty ghosts

[alexias-putellas]

are you sure? // barça femení x teen!reader

barça femení x teen!reader

this request came in not long after that game and i still have a lot of feelings about it. here is me working through them.

warning: mentions of a panic attack but that’s all

-

are you sure?

you were so sure when alexia asked. when jona asked. when ingrid asked. when lucy asked. when marta asked. when mapi asked. even when sweet vicky asked.

you might’ve only been seventeen like her but you were so sure that you wanted to take the last penalty. it wasn’t your first and your track record for pentalties was impressive. so yeah, you were absolutely sure that you wanted to take the last one.

you grabbed the ball from cata and placed it on the floor, walking backwards a few steps to get a good run up. the whistle blew and you only took a few seconds before kicking it as hard as you could and really it felt like everything was happening in slow motion.

the reaction from hannah hampton, the roar of the chelsea fans as she swatted the ball away like it was a measly fly, the noise of the chelsea players as they ran over to their goalkeeper to celebrate making it into a champions league final.

you hadn’t moved, frozen to the spot as what just happened swirled and registered in your head. tears burned in your eyes but you blinked them away. arms wrapped around you and you could faintly hear the murmurs of vicky and esmee but you didn’t know what they were saying. you didn’t look at them. you couldn’t bring yourself to look at the more senior members of the team.

it was alexia and mapi’s first champions league since returning properly from injury and deep down you knew that it was probably the last champions league for some of the others and you’d gone and thrown it away.

time seemed to move very slowly and you must’ve been running on autopilot because the next time you blinked, you were curled up in a seat on an unusually quiet bus. you were acutely aware of ingrid sitting next to you and the fact that mapi was somewhere close by. but you didn’t remember coming off the pitch or getting changed or even getting on the bus.

when the bus came to a stop outside the hotel, you were quick to grab your bag and shoot off it, hanging back a little bit to wait for jana who was supposed to be your roommate for the night.

but your arm was tapped and you turned to see mapi, a small smile on her face. “you are with us tonight, nena.”

you nodded, feeling a little bit relieved. you loved jana but you knew that she’d probably make you talk about what happened whereas mapi and ingrid would give you space to process it.

so you trailed behind the couple as the three of you made your way through the hotel. you immediately sat on the bed that looked untouched, automatically assuming that the two were already sharing the other bed.

ingrid didn’t have the heart to tell you that as per the rules, they hadn’t been sharing a bed but she was certain that bending the rules for you wouldn’t be an issue.

you didn’t get any sleep that night, tossing and turning before ultimately staring at the ceiling. the penalty played over and over in your head like a movie. a never ending movie.

after a few more minutes of growing irritability, you sat up and threw the covers off you. quietly, you creeped over to the window and leaned your forehead against the cool glass, staring into the lightening sky.

the light of your phone reflected but you didn’t move to look at it. why would you? it wasn’t going to be anything good. a tear dropped onto your arm before you even noticed you were crying. you harshly wiped at your eyes. you had no right to cry or be upset. the others did but not you.

it was your fault after all.

your mind wandered. what would’ve happened if someone else had taken the last penalty? what if you’d taken an earlier penalty? what if you didn’t take one at all? should you have taken one at all?

suddenly you weren’t so sure.

ᡣ𐭩

you sobbed softly into bagheera’s fur, the thought of going into training making you sick to your stomach.

as soon as you’d stepped foot back in barcelona, you’d retreated into your room at mapi and ingrid’s place and never came out. you didn’t answer your phone, you didn’t post anything on your social media’s. you didn’t do anything. the only people you’d interacted with being the couple who had opened their home to you but even that was rare.

if you had a choice, you’d have chosen to slowly integrate yourself back with the girls. but you didn’t have a choice. you had to go back to training, being thrown straight into the deep end with people who probably hated you and in your eyes, they had every right to do so.

you could hear mapi and ingrid moving around and chattering quietly and when footsteps got a little too close, you held your breath, swallowing your sob. there was a soft knock at the door then.

“nena?” mapi’s soft voice sounded through the door and you sat up slightly. she wasn’t going to come in, you knew that. “we are leaving in five minutes.”

those simple words had you burying your face further into the cat’s soft fur. you took deep breaths, willing yourself not to cry again. with a sense of hesitation, you let bagheera go and slipped off your bed. once you were sure the spaniard had left, you snuck into the bathroom.

your reflection made you wince. you weren’t going to be able to cover up those bags. and the splotchiness on your face didn’t seem to budge when you splashed yourself with water.

with a heaved sigh, you grabbed your stuff from your room and granted bagheera his freedom, following behind him as he darted straight to mapi.

truthfully neither mapi or ingrid thought you’d actually attend training so they’d already pre-warned jona and alexia of your potential absence.

but then you walked into the living room, training bag on your shoulder and a tired look on your face.

“ready elskling?” ingrid asked softly and you nodded.

the short drive to the training centre left you filled with more dread. and when mapi pulled up, you muttered something about needing to use the bathroom before running faster than you ever had.

your bag fell to the floor as soon as you’d reached your destination. your hands gripped the edge of a sink as you willed yourself to breathe. but nothing seemed to work.

you sunk to your knees, head pressed against the cool ceramic as your breathing worsened.

tears spilled down your cheeks, a feeling of dread growing worse with each passing second, and you wanted—needed to calm down. ingrid or mapi would soon raise the alarm that you still weren’t there and someone would come looking for you.

the thought of being late and potentially making the others late made you feel even worse. and you somehow sobbed between your staggered breaths.

the reasons to hate you kept piling up and you wondered how long it would be until you did something truly unforgivable. well you supposed you already had.

the door opened and again, time seemed to slow down for you. you were extremely aware of the arms wrapped around you, the hand rubbing your back soothingly, and the voice quietly encouraging you to breathe.

and then you were all on the floor, sitting in silence. a terrible, deafening silence. alexia, ingrid, and frido had never seen you look so small and childlike, a harsh reminder for them that that’s exactly what you were. a child. who appeared to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.

“it is okay, nena,” alexia said softly. your jaw clenched a little but you said nothing. “you are young. we all made mistakes when we were young.”

you held back the urge to laugh in her face. whilst that may have been true, you seriously doubted that any of them had single-handedly threw away a chamipions league semi-final.

“we win as a team and we lose as a team,” frido added on. “we are a family.”

“and without you we wouldn’t have even made it to penalties. you got us there elskling.”

you nodded but made no move to speak or even look at them, having kept your eyes trained on your linked hands.

it quickly became very obvious that you were still not in the mood for social interactions but the three held a little hope in their hearts as you scampered behind them to get ready for training.

the session wasn’t too bad. you did what you were supposed to do with minimum fuss and you kept to yourself. maybe giving vicky and esmee a small smile every now and then.

to them, it was progress. to you, it was nothing. merely a gesture of goodwill to show them that they were in your good books. you still didn’t speak though and ingrid’s words circled your mind. she was right, you were the reason barcelona had even made it to penalties but you were also the reason barcelona lost out and you knew which one was being spoken about all the time.

when you returned home with mapi and ingrid, you went straight to your room, placing yourself into the bay window and staring down at the busy street below. soft knocks sounded and the door opened, bagheera’s quiet meow drawing your attention. you glanced over your shoulder to see mapi stood there, two cups of coffee in her hands.

she motioned to the space next to you and you barely nodded, eyes on the soft cat as he jumped onto your lap. the spaniard carefully placed the cup into your hand. you brought it up to your lips, sipping it slowly. “good?”

“yes, thank you.” you whispered.

it silent again, something you’d actually grown quite fond of. mapi’s presence was comforting in a way but you knew she was still mad at you so when she spoke up again, you told her what she wanted to hear.

“you are okay nena, right?” she asked but the concern in her eyes wasn’t noticed by you and you nodded, desperate for her to leave so you could cry in peace. “estas segura?”

“i’m sure.”

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #barça femeni #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #ona batlle #keira walsh #lucy bronze #mapi leon #ingrid engen #esmee brugts #jana fernandez

[lialacleaf]

To Care For A Woman

Chapter 2

Simon Riley X Reader

Summary: You join the army as a last-ditch effort to avoid destitution, but when you sustain an injury protecting Lieutenant Ghost and earn yourself a medical discharge, you're stuck all over again. Or maybe not...

Warnings: Tension, Simon wants to care for you, small reader, a little bit spicy but not NSFW, man worrying about a woman's safety, typical cannon violence, deception, I'm sorry it's unedited...

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Reader POV

You were swimming in a deep pool of black, waves of some syrupy feeling caressing your mind, interrupted by the occasional pinch or sting. You felt the black ebbing away, replaced by the metallic smell of blood and the sting of bright lights in your eyes. You let out a sharp whine as the pinch became an agonizing, burning pain in your left knee.

A choked sob followed as you slowly regained your awareness. You were laying in a hospital bed, and a medic was carefully redressing your injured leg.

“Where’s Lieutenant Ghost?” You asked, remembering how he’d been shot down aiding you in your escape.

“Busy. Said he’d come by once you were awake to deliver the news.”

Your brow furrowed. The news? What could that possibly mean? You couldn’t be in trouble for the mission having gone bad. Your lip trembled as the medic finished their work and left.

Maybe Ghost had been right to leave you out of missions before. The pain in your leg was agonizing, and you wanted to curl into a ball and cry. You were all alone in a place you didn’t belong, and you were suffering, but all you could feel was anger at yourself. Anger that you just weren't good enough for the job.

A small part of you wanted to call home, but you couldn’t bare the thought of putting anymore stress on your parent’s shoulders.

You felt helpless, more so than usual, and you couldn’t stop the shaking in your hands. A knock sounded, drawing a shaky gasp from you lips.

You felt you shoulders tremble as the imposing figure of your Lieutenant quietly slipped into the room.

Ghost crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles straining against the black sweatshirt he wore. He simply stared at you through the holes in his mask, not saying a word.

You felt a shudder run down your spine as he took a step closer, holding out a tan folder to you.

“What’s this?” You asked, your hands trembling as you reached for it.

“Your discharge paperwork,” he answered curtly.

“From the hospital?” You asked, your voice wavering.

“From the 141.”

Your stomach dropped. “No,” you pleaded, voice wavering. “No, Ghost…please, no,” you begged, fighting back the tears threatening to run down your cheeks and expose the turmoil of your heart.

“This isn’t up for discussion,” he said sternly as you opened the file. “Have it signed by the end of the day-“

“It wasn’t my fault!” you interrupted, your lip quivering. “I did everything right! Please, you can’t do this to me.”

“This isn’t about the mission,” he stated gruffly. “This is about your injuries. You’ll be lucky to walk on that leg again. You’re unfit for duty.” His eyes bore into you with an intensity that made you shudder.

“You don’t understand, I don’t have anywhere to go. I can do other things, work in the office, do paperwork-“

“I’ve already spoken with Price. You don’t have high enough clearance for that,” he stated softly. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy for you. You both did. You were just a rookie. You’re pension would be little to nothing, and your injury would make it even harder for you to find a way to support yourself.

Ghost watched carefully as you took a shallow breath, a few stray tears sliding down your cheeks. “Are you happy now?” You asked with a thick swallow. “I know you didn’t want me here in the first place,” you accused.

It didn’t matter that you had saved his life, and quite possibly sacrificed any quality your own would have had otherwise. “You should have just left me there,” you whispered, and Ghost stiffened.

Silence hung in the air and your throat burned as you tried not to burst into tears.

“I’ll work somethin’ out for you,” he said gruffly, as if he was uncomfortable making you such a promise.

“You said Price made his decision-“

“I’ll work somethin’ else out,” he clarified. “Get those papers signed,” he said, turning on his heel and leaving you to shake your head and quietly sob into you hand.

~

Simon’s POV

He couldn’t watch you cry. The idea of your little sobs took him right back to that night that he thought he was going to watch you bleed out on the way to the hospital.

He’d considered yelling at you for what you had done, but then his mother’s frightened face flashed in his mind, and his stomach dropped. He didn’t want to be his father, didn’t want to be the man that made a helpless woman cry or feel fear from his presence. He wanted to make sure you never had to cry ever again, and he was about to do everything in his power to make sure you were safe and sound.

“You’re bloody mad, Simon,” Johnny said as he looked at the piece of paper he’d had prepared that afternoon. “Hope it works out.”

He hoped so too. More than he was willing to verbally admit to the Scotsman.

If you didn’t agree to it, there was nothing more he could do to help you. But he wasn’t going to let you just slip through his fingers without trying.

Reader’s POV

You cried for every medic that walked into your room, despite telling yourself over and over again that you wouldn’t. Something about watching them tend to your leg made the situation too real.

It was lonely in the hospital room, and the hum of the air conditioner was starting to give you a headache. Or maybe that was from all the crying you’d done.

A small part of you was scolding yourself for wasting time being emotional when what you really needed to be doing was making a plan. You needed to figure out your next steps before the hospital politely kicked you off base.

You couldn’t even walk, and there would be no one to care for you during your recovery. How the hell were you supposed to survive?

He didn’t even knock before entering, and you were quick to wipe your checks as Ghost approached your bed at a steady pace, another damn tan folder in his hands.

“More bad news?” You asked bitterly.

He let out a deep chuckle in response. “Depends on how you look at it.” His accent was thick, and you couldn’t help but catch the tinge of nervousness in his voice. It had to be bad for Ghost to be rattled.

“I’ve got a…friend, and he’s willing to help you out.”

He placed the folder gently in your lap and flipped it open. You felt your chest tighten and your eyes narrowed in confusion.

A marriage certificate. It was a marriage certificate with your name on it. “What is this?” you asked.

“A way out.”

“Really?” you asked incredulously. “Cause it seems like a nasty joke! Who the hell even is Simon Riley?”

“Does it matter? He’s agreed to take care of you,” Ghost muttered.

Indeed he had. His portion of the certificate was signed and dated. “In return for what?” You asked bitterly, voice thick with emotion.

Ghost clicked his tongue softly and sighed. “I wouldn’t send you somewhere potentially unsafe,” he assured you, brown eyes boring into you as he tilted his head to the side.

“I have a feeling you’d send me anywhere if it meant you never had to see me again.”

You could tell he was frowning at you under that mask, and you swallowed thickly. He’d never exactly been kind to you, but not unkind either. He’d simply excluded you, making it harder to have anyone on your side.

“You got another option I don’t know about?” He asked, holding a ballpoint pen out to you expectantly.

You stared at the object for a moment, feeling your lip begin to quiver again. No. Not in front of him. You snatched the pen from his grasp and hastily scribbled your name down, sucking in a deep breath as you did so.

“Atta’ girl,” he praised, patting you on the shoulder. You handed him the paperwork without meeting his gaze. He must have thought you to be a sell-out, that you were pathetic. Maybe you were. You just hoped you hadn’t made a terrible mistake with this Simon Riley.

AN: well, well, well. I hope you’re all on the edge of your seats! Thank you to everyone that has been interacting so far, I can’t explain how much that means to me! Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list! Thank You!

Tag list: @warenai @livynicole @ghostlythots @hilowhiho @mrmountainman @miamia89 @shiraya92 @crocodilefeet2707

@zzariyahchan @gaida-511 @misshoneypaper @soldierlass @dazaiscum @mockerycrow @kaysav608 @classygardencroissantcolor @innerskylover @kristalhi @hotaruteba @tzutology @sushiumex @l3xiluve @immajustlikeok

@iplayghoul @linoskitten11 @zollaris @whore-for-anime @migeuloharaslxt @blog-luvdance @embermdk @buttercupmuffins

Gosh, I think that's everyone. I think some of y'all have settings that didn't allow me to tag you so I apologize if you don't get a notification. I did my best. Also, my dyslexia had a helluva time with some of the names XD Love you guys! Thanks again for your support! <3

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #mw2022

[kaiser1ns]

𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 𝗸𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

PREVIOUS TRACK ⏮ PLAYLIST ⏭ NEXT TRACK

NOW PLAYING "00:00" BY BTS

╹synopsis :: good luck appears suddenly, even if it's just for little while, but there is always hope and faith for another tomorrow.

╹contents :: MAP OF THE SOUL PT. 2, 2.4k words, fluff + angst, KAISER BACKSTORY TW: physical abuse, alcohol.

╹taglist :: @chaosinanutshell @rinitoshisgirl @thebluelockroyals

Closing the door as he heard a glass breaking once he stepped outside in the sun that shined upon him, giving some type of warmth as he put the black hood over his head walking away from the so called 'home'. As Michael strolled through the neighborhood, the faint jingle of a bell caught his attention. Pausing, he realized the sound ceased whenever he stopped. Strange, the boy though and continued walking, the bells chiming anew as he moved forward. Turning, he spotted a sleek black cat with a white collar and a bell attached to it.

A lost cat? Kneeling down, he inspected the collar, discovering the cat's name, Felicity, and a phone number. Too bad he didn't have a phone to call and get the cat out of here. Well, there's nothing for me to do. He patted the cat on the head, got up and continued to walk aimlessly leaving the animal behind. Michael was now a little further away, and there was no sound of the tinkling of a bell. Maybe the cat found its owner already and is taken care of by receiving treats and pats.

Speaking of treats his stomach rumbled, and before he went out, he took a little bit of his savings in case of getting hungry. It was strange for him to go into the store and buy something instead of stealing it like his father wanted him to do. He took the most ordinary sandwich with ham, cheese and some sauce. When he was at the register paying, he saw the candy Y/N gave him as a reward — he will keep the location of the sweets in mind.

Walking out of the store, holding the soccer ball in one hand and the sandwich in the other, the blonde boy made his way to the playground where he first saw the girl two weeks ago, and sadly he hadn't seen her since. Well the boy can't blame her — she probably went to school and has other close friends to hangout with, something he doesn't have. Sitting on the ground, leaning against the graffiti wall he began to eat, until suddenly the sound of a bell was heard again.

Michael looked up, his eyes locking with the familiar black cat from earlier. She mewed at him, her white collar glinting in the sunlight as she approached rubbing at his leg. He couldn't help but smile at her persistence. "You again, huh?" he murmured, tearing off a piece of ham from his sandwich and offering it to her.

The cat wasted no time, devouring the ham eagerly. Once they both finished their meal he got up and without hesitation, started dribbling and kicking the ball around. To his surprise, the cat seemed intrigued, her paw batting at the ball whenever it came close. It reminded him of someone, though he couldn't quite put his finger on who. Michael took a break, sitting back against the wall and Felicity wasted no time in curling up in his lap, purring contentedly as he stroked her fur. It was a rare moment of peace for him, every time he goes out it's his free time from the prison with the awful guard that stayed in. He cherished moments like that more than anything and he wished to see Y/N again, so they can play together and maybe win another pack of candy.

As he enjoyed the quiet moment with the cat, he heard footsteps approaching. Turning his head, he saw the angel in disguise running towards him, clutching a poster in her hand that had a photo of the now sleeping pet. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her bright smile and eyes that were glossy, Did she cry?, he wondered but her sad face was quickly replaced upon seeing the boy.

"Michael!" the girl exclaimed, relief evident in her childish voice as she reached him. "Thank you for finding Felicity! I was so worried to where she could have gone."

A smile graced Michael's lips as he realized the cat belonged to her. No wonder it reminded him of someone he knew. "I didn't know it was yours," he admitted, still patting the sleeping feline. "She just followed me all day."

You chuckled, your eyes twinkling with amusement. "She has this habit of following people, though it was only family members and not one of my friends." The word friends echoed in Michael's mind, stirring something warm and unfamiliar in his chest. He looked into Y/N eyes, feeling something that he had never imagined to exist, as if he was lost in the galaxy with millions of stars to explore, falling deeper and deeper into the black holes, losing himself. What's this feeling? Why is my heart beating so fast? He couldn't figure it out, what's happening inside him, and why is she the reason for it?

"And you know animals can sense if a person is good or not, so she chose you for a reason." Michael couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth at your words, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "I'm glad I could help," he replied softly, his gaze still locked with yours. "And I'm glad you were here, because I was going to ask you to help me, but there is no need anymore."

There was a moment of silence between them, Michael shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say next. But before he could gather his thoughts, Y/N spoke again, her voice gentle and caring.

"Michael, are you okay?" she asked, eyes searching his face with concern. "Where did you hurt yourself?"

For a moment, panic gripped Michael's chest as he instinctively reached for the hood of his jacket, pulling it over his head to hide the scar his father had left that morning. "I fell very hard on the ground while dribbling," he lied, of course he would lie not to make her worry about his personal matters and mostly not to scare her, because what if she tells her parents about him being abused? It will not end well.

The girl frowned, clearly not convinced by his answer. But instead of pressing further, she reached into her bag and pulled out some pink bandages. "Sorry, it's the only color I have left," apologizing, a small smile playing on her lips as she gently applied the bandage to his forehead.

Michael's heart swelled as he watched Y/N tend to him with such care and kindness. Despite his best efforts to keep his struggles hidden, she always seemed to see right through him, offering comfort and support without hesitation. It was a feeling he wasn't accustomed to, but one he found himself craving more and more with each passing day.

As she finished bandaging his wound, Michael couldn't help but meet the girl's gaze once again, his eyes soft and vulnerable — a child's look. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, but it was genuine.

A smile tugged at the corners of Y/N lips as she reached out to tuck a hair behind his ear, wanting to see his beautiful and gentle face. "Anytime, Michael, friends help eachother."

For twelve year old he thought she was very mature, always so kind, so gentle — a beacon of light in his otherwise dark world. He couldn't help but be jealous at her innocence and grace, hoping that she would never lose that spark, unlike him, cursed by the mistakes of two adults.

"Also I'm sorry for not showing up, I know you must have been waiting for me"

He just stared at the girl slowly nodding his head acknowledging what she said but he wasn't mad, not even in the slightest. The cat who slept in Michael's lap woke up and went to her owner "Felicity don't you run away like that!" Y/N scolded the cat but of course the animal just let out a 'meow' as she laughed enjoying a moment with her pet then she looked back at Michael who was still staring.

"Hey, Misha, do you want to play tomorrow?"

"Misha?" Y/N giggled, noticing Michael's uncertain expression at the nickname. "Sorry, is it okay if I call you Misha? It just popped into my head, and it's kinda cute, don't you think?"

Michael blinked, a faint blush dusting his cheeks as he processed her words. "I mean, sure, yeah," he replied, his voice softening at the end. Looking doen kicking the ball with his feet to distract himself from the burning tension in his body. He couldn't deny the warmth that spread through him at the sound of her calling him by that name.

Y/N grinned, delighted by Michael's response. "Great! Misha it is then." She scooted closer, her excitement bubbling over. "So, tomorrow, let's meet at the playground at 14:00. We can play some soccer, swing on the swings, and I can give you the cookies I made. What do you say?"

Michael's heart skipped a beat at the thought of spending more time with Y/N. "Yeah, that sounds cool," he said, his smile widening. "I'll be here."

As they continued chatting, Y/N suddenly leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Hey, Misha, can I ask you something more?"

"Yeah," Michael replied, a hint of curiosity in his voice. Y/N hesitated for a moment before mustering up the courage to ask, "Um, do you have a phone? I thought maybe we could exchange numbers so we can call eachother for when to play."

Michael's cheeks flushed even deeper as he nervously played with the ball. "Um, actually, I don't have a phone," he admitted, feeling a pang of embarrassment. "Sorry."

Y/N's smile didn't falter as she reached out to gently squeeze his hand. "Hey, it's okay. Don't worry about it," she reassured him "We can still meet up here at the playground whenever we want to hang out, okay? And if anyone of us doesn't show up we can always see eachother the next time."

A sense of relief washed over Michael as he gazed into Y/N's comforting gaze. "Yeah, okay," he agreed, feeling grateful for her understanding. With a bright smile the youngster nodded, her eyes filled with happiness. "See you tomorrow at 14:00 then?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," the young boy replied, his smile matching hers as they made plans for their next date. Y/N and Michael stood facing each other as the silence fell, but it was calm and pleasant, not oppressive as if they were expecting some monster to come out of nowhere.

"Thanks for looking after Felicity," Y/N said softly, leaning in and planting a quick kiss on Michael's cheek, it was a tender action, making him melt on the spot, something so simple meant a lot — it was his first kiss, his first touch filled not with anger and hatred but instead of love and care. She was causing his heart to flutter even more, was it not enough for his heart to beat so fast earlier?

"It was no problem," Michael replied, trying to hide the excitement in his voice. With a shy smile, she turned to leave, her cat cradled in her arms. Watching her go, feeling a sense of longing already creeping into his chest as he didn't want this moment to end, not now, not ever. Michael touched his cheek gently, still feeling the warmth of her lips lingering there, is this what it feels like to be blessed with angel's grace? He hopes he will get to experience it again. Realizing he was standing alone in the fading light, the sounds of laughter and play fading into the distance.

He took a deep breath and he was infront of his home, his heart now heavy with the weight of the inevitable goodbye and the welcoming sounds of glass breaking.

Opening the door he was met with his drunk father who was watching TV but he didn't seem entertained and the bottles and trash on the ground made it for the energy in the house. But before the boy stepped further into the room he removed the patch from his forehead because he knew there would be even more scars if a bystander helped him and he wanted to keep Y/N safe.

His father's eyes snapped towards him, bloodshot and furious.

"Why the hell aren't you home earlier?" His father's voice boomed, shaking the walls of their small house. "I told you to be back hours ago, you useless piece of shit!"

The boy swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to appease his father's anger. "I'm sorry, Dad. I lost track of time."

"Lost track of time?" His father's voice rose, the frustration palpable in every word as he got up from the couch. "And where's the damn alcohol I asked you to bring,huh?"

The boy's heart sank. He had hoped his father wouldn't notice, but the empty bottles strewn across the floor were impossible to miss. "I... I couldn't find any," he stammered, knowing it was a feeble excuse.

The older man's face turned a dangerous shade of red. His eyes widened, his pupils narrowed, and the emotions he displayed were enough to scare anyone. Maybe it's better for his mother that she's gone so she doesn't have to see this, even though that she is the cause of everything. "Couldn't find any? You stupid pig..."

Before he could finish his sentence, the boy's father lunged towards him, his words drowned out by a tidal wave of anger and disappointment. The boy braced himself for the onslaught, knowing that this was just another night in their tumultuous existence. But amidst the chaos, he made a silent vow to be stronger so he can have another day to see his angel.

With a swift motion, his father's hand connected with his cheek, the same cheek Y/N kissed him now is tarnished, sending him crashing to the ground. He layed there, stunned and helpless, as his father's tirade continued, the sound of breaking glass punctuating each sentence. There was no defense, no escape from the torrent of anger that engulfed him. All he could do was endure, his body trembling with fear and resignation but he was already so used to it.

Each blow, both physical and verbal, carved deeper into his already bruised soul. But through the haze of pain and despair, one thought burned brighter than the rest: he had to stay strong, for her. For the hope of a better tomorrow, where he could see his blessing sent from above, but why isn't he blessed with good fortune right now? Is his suffering not enough, dear God?

As his father's rage finally subsided, leaving only a hollow silence in its wake, the boy clung to that flicker of hope, knowing it was all he had to hold onto. Will something be different? But this day will be over when the minute and second hands overlap as the world holds its breath for a little while.

Felicity means happiness, good fortune

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

#✧* 🤍 blue lock #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #x reader #blue lock x you #michael kaiser x you #michael kaiser #kaiser #blue lock kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x y/n #kaiser x you #kaiser x y/n #kaiser x reader #blue lock manga #blue lock fluff #blue lock angst #blue lock imagines

[norrisleclercf1]

saw you wanted older driver requests and i was wondering if you could do poly fernando and mark and them coming back him to reader after some time away? just very fluffy please

A/N: I made reader pregnant cause why not also it's cute

You wanted to cry, it was stupid, but you had dropped the TV remote and couldn't bend down to pick it up. Stupid pregnancy hormones got the better of you, this time. Sniffling you look at the time and smile through your tears.

Your boys would be home soon, and then one of them could grab you the remotes. The alarm system dings, and you smile, sitting up as you hear the garage door open and soon the echoes of car doors slamming. "Baby!" Fernando drops his bags and runs over and sees you on the couch trying to get up.

"Hi," You blush feeling like a whale, but the boys never made you feel that way, instead they feel more in love with you when you announced your pregnancy.

"Be careful, baby. You could hurt yourself." Fernando helps you stand up as he stares at you. "I know, I'm bigger," You grumble feeling insecure but stop feeling large hands come up behind you and wrap around your stomach.

"You're not bigger darling, just our joey." Mark kisses your neck and very gently lifts your stomach. You can't help but tear up at this act, it reliving you of so much that Fernando coos. "Ohhh, sweetie, it's been hard without hasn't it?" Fernando asks, and you nod your head blubbering.

"I dropped the remote 3 days ago, and couldn't even bend down to grab it." You sob and Mark has to hide his face in your neck to stop himself from laughing. "I just wanted to watch you race, and you commentate and...and I COULDN'T!" You sob, Fernando covering his mouth and Mark sighs placing kisses on your neck.

"Sugar, it's okay. It's okay." Fernando whispers, trying hard to keep it together. "Nando, it's not funny." Mark chides and slowly drops your bump. Turning you around he wipes your eyes. "Sweetie, I swear it's going to be over soon. You've just one more month, and little joey will be out soon." You groan and pull back.

"Mark, if you compare me to a kangaroo one more time, I'll rip your balls off." Fernando chokes on his laughter and picks up the remote, finally turning on the TV for you. "Let's lie down." Mark whispers and helps you to the couch and lies down, with him curled around you and Fernando moving and placing both your heads on his lap. Playing with your hair.

"Want to watch the race?" Fernando asks, rubbing your scalp deep as Mark's hands rub over your body soothing you, to just soft sniffles. "Yes," Fernando smiles, going to F1 TV and the sound of the theme song of Formula 1. Mark chuckles when he feels a little thump against his hand.

"Guess, the little bugger wants to race too." You roll your eyes, digging deeper into Mark's hold . "He'll race when Fernando retires."

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 scenario #f1 blurb #f1 fluff #f1 oneshot #f1 one shot #mark webber x reader #mark webber imagine #mark webber x you #mark webber x y/n #mark webber oneshot #mark webber fluff #mark webber blurb #f1!poly #poly!f1 #fernando imagine #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso #fernando alonso one shot #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso fic

[ovaryacted]

Hello??! Sub!Leon??? Absolutely sign me the fuck up. Ok ok so. Hear me out.

First time, the absolute first time Leon has a prostate orgasm, he fucking cries. Either pegging, dick or fingering, the moment he feels that specific part inside of him get touched, he sees fucking stars.

This dude goes full hentai shit. His eyes roll back, he’s drooling, his tongue is hanging out, he’s babbling uselessly. His brain literally can’t comprehend how good he feels because of it!

I’d imagine that Leon also gets vocal. More vocal than ever. Normally he’s a quiet guy. Maybe some moaning and grunts but when your rubbing his prostate? Yea he’s speaking another language. Dude is Italian American, imagine if he starts speaking fucking Italian. HE doesn’t even understand what he’s saying, he’s just repeating words he heard from his parents growing up.

His voice is also an octave higher. He tries to cover his mouth at first, but it’s useless. He becomes a crying, moaning, babbling bitch.

I’d also imagine Leon’s thighs shake when he cums. Oh and he cums HARD. He actually forgets how to breathe for a bit because of the orgasm slamming into him.

And afterwords? Woah mama. He’s beautiful, breathing heavily, tears and drool marking his pretty face. Just…Mwuah~ <3

MDNI/18+. NSFW

Hey there anon! Thank you so much for the message, I’ll be glad to sign you up to the Sub! Leon fan club. Yes I’m totally listening, putting my ear real close to you right now.

I think the first time he cums like that, it will probably change his whole life and literally give his brain a hard reset. Like sure, he’s had good orgasms before, but never something that made black spots come into his vision, or something that made his legs shake the way they’re currently doing on the mattress. He never thought that sex could feel so good, and experiencing that much relief would genuinely be something that he’ll continue to ask for in the safety of another person who can provide that for him.

The way his mind just fizzles out when it happens, how there isn’t a single thought that goes through his head. It takes him off guard, how it’s just static between his ears and he’s stuck in a daze. For the first time in his life he’s not thinking about his trauma, about missions, about anything. His head is just empty and he loves it, and he finds himself someplace far away and wants to stay there for a while longer. To me, Leon is a sentimental guy, he’d be the type to cry during sex cause he’s clingy and affectionate. But when he’s the one on the receiving end, it makes him feel safe, and having someone who helps to genuinely make him feel good and focuses on his pleasure, he’ll be more inclined to cry from the release of it.

Poor baby is so pent up that the moment he cums he can feel his whole body shake from it. It starts from his thighs which nearly cramp from how hard they flex, and a chill runs down from his calves and to the balls of his feet. His toes will curl a little bit and his fingers will dig into the bed sheets, and he swears he feels his ears ringing from the force of it. He just starts mumbling under his breath, trying to get his heartbeat back to normal and is saying things like I love you in such a whiney voice that it doesn’t even sound like him. He’s babbling and saying anything that comes to mind as any logic just leaves him permanently. Tears down his face, drool running out of his mouth, face all red, he’s a damn mess but he’s your pretty mess. He’s so hypersensitive that any little movement or touch makes him jolt the slightest bit, and it’s almost embarrassing but he doesn’t have the brain power to give a fuck considering how good he feels.

You’d probably have to spend some time bringing him back to reality, praising him and kissing him over his body gently to calm him down. Leon would be so clingy afterwards, just wants to put his head on your chest and let you run your fingers through his hair, whispering sweet nothings in his ear that will ease him to sleep in 3 minutes flat. It’ll be the best he’s slept in a while too, getting a full 8 hours at least, just feeling warm and satisfied. And when you look down at him, there’s a small smile on his face as he sleeps, like he’s dreaming of something good and not having a nightmare, kissing his forehead as he dozes off with his limbs wrapped around you. You fuck him good and you baby him after, that’s what he likes and what he craves, and of course, you’re more than happy to provide.

Also, the fact that you said he’d start speaking Italian was so fucking funny, it made me chuckle. Very real. 😭

#ovaryacted asks #sub leon kennedy #sub leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy headcanons #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #GET THE STRAP #no but this is about to be my trademark lmfao #I love thinking and talking about this tho #Leon deserves to be fucked good and babied after #you ate this up anon #like wow your brain is so big

[wineauntie]

ALL I NEED IS YOU…(and maybe painkillers) — quinn hughes x reader

summary: in which, Quinn knows exactly what to do when you need him the most.

notes: I am currently in reader's position and I wish I had someone like Quinn to help </3. This is tooth rottingly comforting fluff and I love this man sm. also I seem to have so much inspiration for writing imagines atm, it’s ridiculous!!

warnings: reader has their period, this is literally Quinn being the best boyfriend ever idc, reader has bad periods, use of y/n and y/n/n. Use of the nicknames: sweetheart and baby.

word count: 1.4k

You hadn’t expected to find yourself curled in a ball on the couch, your head awkwardly resting on a pillow, and your arms desperately cradling your stomach as if to shield it from the merciless torment your body was inflicting on itself. The television that you had feebly turned on earlier, droned on softly, forgotten in the background, as your attention had long abandoned the screen; instead, it was hijacked by the pulsating waves of pain that seemed to have declared a hostile takeover of your entire being.

Today you'd found yourself struck down and defeated by an evil curse.

You'd gotten your period three days earlier than you'd expected to and your accompanying cramps had wracked through you with no mercy.

You wanted to cry— this morning had been so perfect. You'd woken up bundled in Quinn's arms, the Vancouver winter sun beaming down on top of you whilst you'd buried closer to your boyfriend's radiating heat. The two of you had basked in the morning haze, quietly murmuring sleepily to one another before Quinn's alarm sounded, practically screaming at him that he had to leave.

You'd clung to him like a koala bear, begging him for five more minutes as he pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head, his fingers brushing your hair out of your face as he urged you to go sleep some more. You had hummed and cuddled back under the sheets right where your boyfriend had once laid, your head nuzzling into his pillow to stay as close to him as possible.

Quinn had returned once more before he left, sitting down on the bed beside your exhausted figure, his hand running over your shoulder as he whispered his goodbyes. You'd smiled sleepily before being lulled back into slumber as he pulled away and left to go training.

The twisted and awful feeling had hit just under an hour after Quinn had left and you'd quickly dragged yourself to the bathroom to discover your fate.

And so here you were, curled up on your couch, close to crying at the pain that ricocheted through your veins with every breath. Waves of nausea swept over you, the churning of your stomach blending with the headache that was brewing as you shut your eyes and tried to force yourself to sleep, knowing that as of right now, there was little else you could do.

—

Quinn shook off his layers as he entered the shared apartment four hours after he'd left, his nose kissed red from the bitter freeze outside. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as a chill swept over him. You'd usually turn on the heating by now to warm up the apartment, you had claimed countless times over that you'd hated how cold the place got from time to time, especially when Quinn wasn't there to warm you up.

"Y/N," he called out as kicked off his shoes and entered the kitchen."'m home! Brought you hot chocolate from that place you like." He moved around the kitchen at the lack of reply, moving towards the living room. "Might need to be warmed up in the microwave but it should still—"

Quinn faltered as he stopped in front of you, his heart dropping to his stomach. You were still curled up tightly, your arms around your stomach and your sleeping face screwed up in pain. He'd seen you like this far too many times for his liking. You'd told him how badly your periods hit you, how awful they felt during the first day or two. Quinn had always tried his best to help you during this time, being at your beck and call.

"Oh, y/n/n," He sighed as he crouched down beside you, his knuckles brushing over your cheekbone carefully. He smiled softly as you stirred, leaning into his touch as he continued to soothingly comfort you.

"Q..?" You yawned, wincing as you moved closer to the sound.

"Oh, baby," he muttered, his warm hand flattening against your freezing cheek, your blanket obviously doing little to block out the cold. "C'mon, let's get you into a warm shower."

"Then bed?" You pleaded through bleary eyes as Quinn lifted you off the couch.

"Then bed, sweetheart," Quinn confirmed, carrying you towards the bathroom where he turned on the shower before helping you undress. "That's it, there you go.” His arms bracketed you as you stood, trying to wipe the sleep from your eyes. “I'll wait outside for you to finish if you'd like."

You sniffled and shook your head, your hands fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt. He examined your face carefully before he peeled his clothes off without another word and led you into the confines of the shower.

Quinn carefully moved the shower head to avoid wetting your hair, as you leaned backwards into the warmth of his chest. He slowly dragged a soapy loofa over your shoulders, and body his warm hand placed over your lower stomach, smoothing circles over the ache. His hands moved gently, making sure that he cleaned you as much as he could.

Many seemed to be surprised that Quinn’s love languages were touch and acts of service, but to you, it seemed so obvious. The man could barely keep his hands off of you when you two were alone and god knows, he’d do anything to make your life easier. You relished it, loving how attentive and affectionate he was. After meeting him for the first time, her friends had claimed that he looked at her as if she had hung the moon and stars.

You moaned quietly, drawing you back to the moment as Quinn pulled away. Your sad eyes followed your boyfriend as he silently stepped out of the shower, and covered himself with a towel before holding out another for you to step out into. You looked at him sheepishly before tiptoeing out of the shower and into the fluffiness. Quinn bundled the towel around you, placing small fluttering kisses from your neck to your jaws.

"I'll go leave pyjamas on the bed for you," he murmured against your skin. "I'm going to go make us some food, go get comfy in bed, alright?"

You nodded tearfully from the amount of care Quinn displayed. You don't think you'd ever felt this type of love from anyone else in your life. Quinn smiled at you before he placed a final kiss between your brows and left the bathroom for you to finish up whatever you needed to.

When you emerged from the bathroom, you spotted your favourite pair of pyjamas and one of Quinn's hoodies lying atop your bed. The sight caused your heart to warm as you slowly shrugged on the clothes, relishing the overwhelming feeling of comfort.

You did as Quinn said, crawling into the bed and curling up beneath the sheets. You tucked your chin into the inside of Quinn's hoodie, letting his lingering cologne engulf you completely as you settled down. You blinked sleepily as the sound of Quinn moving around in the kitchen echoed.

You couldn't register how long it took until Quinn reappeared in your shared room, now dressed in pyjama pants and a jumper, one of his hands carrying a plate and a bottle of painkillers and the other carrying a glass of water.

"Sit up for me, y/n/n," he gently urged, as you weakly pushed yourself to sit up against the headboard. "There you go," he placed the plate on your lap, before handing you the water and a painkiller. "Drink up and then eat, please, I don't like that you're on an empty stomach."

You hummed and popped the pill into your mouth before you sipped on the water. Quinn watched carefully, taking the glass from you when you were finished and placing it on your bedside table. As you picked up the slice of toast he'd made, Quinn rounded the bed and joined you under the covers. You leaned towards him with a small, content noise, his arm sliding around your shoulders to hold you close as you ate, trying your hardest to keep the crumbs over your plate.

Quinn filled the silence, telling you all about how training went and his upcoming games. You listened intently as you finished up your food, allowing Quinn to take the plate from you and place it on his bedside table. You shifted uncomfortably, your back beginning to ache. Quinn lifted the covers and pulled you down under them, your head placed on his chest as he moved the sheets to cover you completely.

You sighed happily, locking your legs between his as his hand slipped beneath your hoodie, his warm hand placed over your lower stomach just as he'd done in the shower. You relished the heat and pressure the touch provided, your eyes fluttering shut as Quinn's other hand ran a hand over your hair.

"Thank you," you mumbled, earning a small laugh from Quinn.

"Sleep, I'll wake you for dinner later," he promised, his head pushing itself into his own pillow as you nestled closer to him.

In the quiet moments before sleep claimed you again, Quinn's fingers continued their comforting dance moving down your spine as you breathed steadily. His presence acted as a blanket against any lingering discomfort, as you plastered yourself to him.

"I’ll stay here, sweetheart," Quinn whispered, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. You couldn't muster up the strength to answer coherently, mumbling a sleepy acknowledgement, as you slipped into a comfortable slumber.

I literally need him in a way offensive to feminism, I cannot lie <3

#wineauntie #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #x reader #nhl x reader #fluff #boyfriend!quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fanfic

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i love you, i love you (kill me in the morning) ; suguru geto

synopsis; everyone has a weakness. some are harder to get rid of. (or, alternatively; suguru geto befriends a non-sorcerer as a child.)

word count; 10.0k

contents; suguru geto/reader (not explicitly romantic but the subtext is there), gn!reader, geto-typical angst, childhood friends to [redacted], mild gore, suguru geto’s defection but with added angst, twisted depictions of love, depictions of stalking, depictions of death/murder, general bloodlust (geto wants to kill u soo bad but also not really), unresolved yearning, hurt/no comfort, curse user geto is his own warning tbh

a/n; ok so. this is kind of a mess. just my own take on geto’s childhood and defection + how i think he’d deal with a non-sorcerer reader after defecting……. so it turned out kinda. Dark. it’s entirely sfw to be clear!!! just sorta twisted. in conclusion i love my cult leader wife who wants me dead <3 (pls listen to ’kill me’ by indigo de souza it is SO geto)

suguru geto meets you in the afterglow of sunset, by a dusty summer creek.

it’s his special place, hidden in the outskirts of your tiny town; a place where the water glimmers with silver-hued fish, and all the biggest cicadas reside, singing softly and waiting to be caught.

a place where he can be himself. alone, with no one to curse him.

— except, this time, he isn’t alone.

your crying face is the first thing he sees. big, wet tears, cascading down your scrunched-up face, accompanied by little sniffles as you sit there. curled up into a ball, knees against your heaving chest.

the next thing he sees is the bruise on your leg. a scrape on your knee, gritty and a little bloody, but it’s not so awful. he can tell that it hurts, though — you bite your lip to stop yourself from trembling, like you’re trying to be brave. but you look pained. 

and it sends a tremor running through his very soul.

suguru was born with a bleeding heart, an empathy unusually developed for his age. always pushing him forward, coaxing him into taking action; this nagging desire to protect, to nurture. born with an inability to avert his gaze from the suffering of others.

so when the two of you lock eyes, he manages a smile. warm and soothing, even though deep down he’s alarmed. but he masks it, slathers over it with something kind, something comforting — and he can tell that it works, from the way your teary eyes seem to soften in the buttery hue of the afternoon glow.

you’re crying. and suguru finds himself wanting to wipe those tears away, more than anything. you look small, and you’re in pain.

(protect the weak, urges some voice in the back of his mind. insatiable. protect those who can’t protect themselves.)

he asks for your name, all while cleaning your wound. the wince that slips from your lips when the cold water of the creek licks at your knee makes his heart clench.

but you tell him. you tell him your name, as the sun sets in the horizon, and he tells you his. 

suguru. a sweet kid who sees you fall and patches you up. a cool kid who teases you a little for being so clumsy. who holds your hand tightly in his own, to make sure you won’t fall again.

the sun melts away beyond the cluster of trees that surround you, its burning glow breaking through the gaps between the branches and dyeing the summer creek a deep red. illuminating your blurry silhouettes, as you walk back home. hand in hand.

and that’s how it begins.

the two of you grow closer, in the same way flowers who share a stem learn to lean on each other, grow in the same direction, a mess of mingled roots. a natural connection, blooming out of nothing more than a sweet coincidence — that kind of blissful, innocent childhood friendship. the kind you never have to question.

you learn very quickly that suguru isn’t like the rest. that when compared to all the other kids you know, he’s mature, almost mystical, like he knows something they don’t.

you learn that there’s a gentleness to him, one he could never fully hide. one that shines through when he looks at you, when you play and laugh to fill the silence of the hills overlooking the small town you both live in.

you also learn that he can see ghosts.

curses, you’ll both come to learn, but that’s later. for a child in a remote town, isolated and alone, the familiarity of the ghost stories that adults tell you is the only kind of comfort suguru has to cling to. something lighthearted, to explain the predicament that haunts him — the flickers of black in his vision, that lingering taste of charcoal on his tongue.

suguru is different, you realize, different from the rest. and you eventually learn, from him, that you are far from alone in that belief.

in the town you both had the misfortune of being born into, suguru is the black sheep. his parents think there’s something wrong with him. the other kids think there’s something wrong with him. he isn’t right in the head, they whisper, he sees things that aren’t there.

(it’s a debilitating isolation that never truly leaves him.)

so suguru learns to stay silent, learns to keep his pretty little mouth shut, learns to lie. it’s easier that way. easier to survive, in the remoteness of your tiny town, with all the adults who scorn him and look at him like he doesn’t belong anywhere at all.

and suguru learns to be content, in that solitude. that heaven-granted isolation. a lone white chrysanthemum, in a sea of red and lavender; blossoming alone.

but then suguru meets you.

and, contrary to everyone else, you don’t think there’s anything wrong with him. when you tell him that he’s different from the rest, you mean it in the best possible way. you say it with starlight in your eyes, gleeful, giddy. like he’s special, not broken. like you’re also tired of those other kids, those sneering adults, the silence of a town so isolated it could crush a child’s heart.

like you have something in common. like you’re the same.

and you stay by his side. throughout the most difficult years of his early life, when he’s still growing accustomed to the duty he’ll have to bear for the rest of his life, you’re there. every single day. to smile at him, to speak to him like you’re both just normal kids — even though suguru is well aware that he’s anything but normal.

(when he’s with you, he feels like it, though. feels like he’s just a normal boy, like there isn’t something glued down wrong inside his brain. something twisted, something that needs to be plucked out.)

suguru finds comfort in you. in your presence, in the notes you pass him when classes get boring, in the way you cling to his sleeve while exploring the woods during recess. in the way you grin so brightly after managing to catch a firefly in the darkness of the summer night, all proud and toothy, a childlike innocence he wishes he still had.

you’re sweet, and understanding, and suguru thinks you might be the coolest person he knows. you’re his friend, his very best friend, his one and only.

and when he tells you what’s wrong with him — when he tells you what he can see — you ask him something that will forever rest in his subconscious. a flicker of precious, fleeting, genuine acceptance, one he won’t ever feel again. not until he meets a certain boy with blue eyes, but that comes later.

(a memory he’ll return to, over and over again. even after all the evil in the world has already descended upon him like a crackling hurricane.)

what do they look like?

there is no judgement in your voice, in the way the question slips from your lips. no mocking laughter, no silent rejection or whisper of crazy, evil, wrong. there’s only you, the way you’ve always been, curious and understanding and wise beyond your years.

suguru decides, right then and there, that he’ll protect you forever. no matter what.

you can’t see curses. you aren’t like him, in that regard, and he learns that quickly. and as suguru grows up, grows a little taller, a little wiser, he is glad that it’s true. he’s glad, because he already knows what kind of road lies ahead of him.

he already knows what kind of world you both live in, how unforgiving it can be. how many people die every day, every second, because of monsters only a select few can even see. he already knows that curses aren’t the eccentric, silly ghosts you were hoping for when you were kids — but pure, unadulterated evil.

(he already knows what they taste like.)

and suguru takes careful measures, day by day, to keep you away from it. as much as he can without lying outright. you’re curious, by nature, almost fascinated by curses and sorcery and everything you do not understand. an endearing trait, though it exasperates him to no end.

someone like you has no business sticking their nose into that kind of cruelty, he thinks, that kind of bloodshed.

and you’ve always been clumsy, a little scatterbrained. enough to make him worry instinctively when you’re out of his sight. like when you tripped and scraped your knee, by that tiny summer creek, all because you wanted to catch a dragonfly.

so he tries his best to keep you away from it, all of it, away from a darkness he knows would swallow you whole. away from the small, weak curses that sometimes litter the woods or the schoolyard; away from his cursed technique, the disgust of a power he never once asked for. 

(he never lets you see him swallow those things, never lets you witness the way he throws them right back up again before it happens so many times that he grows used to the disgust. you’re sharp, though, and he can’t hide the grimace that always lingers on his features.

you don’t ask — you only give him a packet of gum, to chew away the taste with, and suguru thinks to himself that he’ll love you forever.)

time passes by, slowly but surely, and the two of you stick together.

and as he grows into his teenage years, so much weight already resting on his tiny shoulders, suguru has already developed some sense of it all. of his ability, of the world of sorcerers. he’s already spoken to people like him, has already been made well aware of his potential. 

he’s already been given a choice, a choice that was never really a choice at all, but he decides that it doesn’t matter.

suguru decides to become a sorcerer. to train his abilities, to hone his skills. to eventually move away, from the stifling silence of that town, the silence that was only ever filled by you.

and suguru thinks to himself that he’s doing this for you. that in doing this, in being this, he’ll fulfill his promise to protect you.

(forever. no matter what. he echoes the words in his mind like a prayer.)

suguru wants to protect those who cannot protect themselves. those who are weak, those who are alone, people he has the power to help.

but more than anything, above all else, suguru wants to protect you. 

you are the most precious thing in his life. and if he can turn the world a little brighter for you, just a little bit kinder, then isn’t that enough? isn’t there enough meaning in that to give him the strength he needs?

there is. suguru decides that there is.

so when he tells you about his plans, under a pleasant, ephemeral starry sky, he does so with conviction. he knows that you will understand, because he knows you. you’re his best friend.

and he’s right. you do understand. you’re proud of him, and he’s your best friend, too.

i’ll support you, no matter what. 

the instantaneous answer makes suguru smile. not the kind of smile he plasters on to appease the adults around him, nor the smile he wears when he needs to lie convincingly. a full, genuine smile, that reaches his eyes and blossoms like a flower in the light of the moon; a warm, gentle smile, one you’ll always, always associate with him. 

(forever and ever. no matter what.)

and when suguru eventually has to leave, for a high school he’ll spend the next few years of his life living at, he carries that conviction with him. his choice is steadfast, unyielding, inevitable. the only one that matters.

the whistling of the wind breaches his ears, as you both stand on the platform and wait for his train to arrive. a spring breeze caresses your skin, and suguru’s bangs flutter in the wind. sunlight scatters across the train tracks and seagulls cry out in the distance, and the acute sensation of a parting lies heavy in the air.

it’s embarrassing. it’s childish. suguru wants to claim that he isn’t a child, anymore; that he wouldn’t give in to hesitation, at the sight of your meek expression. that he wouldn’t cry, at the thought of moving away from his best friend.

but the slight puffiness under his eyes is evidence enough. evidence of the tears he shed last night, when the reality of the situation finally dawned on him. 

suguru doesn’t want to part from you. he’s nervous, too — leaving you alone in that town, all by yourself, with no one around to protect you properly.

it's stupid. because deep down, he knows that you’ll escape too. that you’ll come after him, no matter how long it takes, that'll you'll both end up in tokyo. that you'll end up together, despite his duty as a sorcerer — eating soft serve ice cream cones, playing shooting games at the arcade, strolling around the big city aimlessly. doing all those things you always talked about doing.

because the two of you will always, always find your way back to each other. just like how he found you with that bruise on your leg, all those years ago, a fated encounter as natural as the glow of sunset. two lone dragonflies, who always meet somewhere in the middle of a dusty summer creek.

still, suguru can’t help but feel sad. a little lost. he can only hope you don’t notice the soft frown on his face, the faint redness of his eyes. 

(then again, when have you ever not noticed something he was trying to hide?)

there's no need to worry about it, suguru knows. he’s never had to worry about you judging him, looking down on him. never you.

and when his gaze falls on your face, after the train he’s supposed to board screeches to a halt behind him, your own tears are enough to make him realize how silly he’s being.

he laughs, from the bottom of his stomach, when you tackle him into a hug and tell him with teary eyes that you’ll come visit. he squeezes you especially tight, in a boyish fashion he can never quite hide from you, and murmurs into your ear that he’ll be waiting.

he asks you not to forget him. you laugh through your tears, and tell him that you never could.

before he has to let go and step into the train, you tell him that you love him, and his grin blooms with honeyed affection. he ruffles your hair, always gentle, always teasing, always the same suguru.

he tells you that he loves you, too.

— then he’s gone.

(you’ll forever regret not convincing him to stay.)

the two of you stay in contact, all throughout his first year. texting, calling — making sure neither of you get the chance to forget the other. suguru tells you about his life, his missions, his classmates, leaving out all the gritty details. and you listen; attentive, curious.

at one point, you even visit him. his friends tease him relentlessly, but all he does is roll his eyes and flick their foreheads, biting back a smile. that makes you laugh, and he’s relieved that the sound hasn’t changed in the slightest.

and suguru stays the same, throughout that one first year. he is steadfast, unyielding, decisive. he has a conviction he’ll never let go of, and people he's vowed to protect. people he needs to protect. 

(non-sorcerers, is what he tells satoru, and he means it. but suguru chooses to omit the fact that he specifically wants to protect one single non-sorcerer, above all else.)

and suguru is happy, with his choice. thoroughly and wholly. the road ahead of him will be long, full of obstacles and thorns, but he always knew that would be the case. and he knows that it’ll hurt, that it’ll be tough, but he also knows that this is what he sincerely wants to do. what he was meant to do. the only choice worth making.

suguru is content. suguru will not falter.

— then, his second year descends upon him.

riko amanai dies. toji fushiguro dies.

satoru gojo becomes the strongest sorcerer of the modern era.

(and suguru geto is left behind.)

it is a slow, sinking realization. one whole year to lose sight of his goal, lose sight of the conviction he held onto so tightly. one whole year to feel it slip through the gaps between his fingers, helpless to stop its course. everything grows muddled, molding, rotting before he has a chance to root it out — and all he can do is wait, as it festers like bile in the bottom of his gut.

suguru geto falters.

(he doesn’t quite know who he is, anymore.)

words he’s swallowed down like curses all his life keep flooding his subconscious, building up inside the back of his throat, spinning and spinning and spinning inside his brain until he feels sick enough to throw up. evil. crazy. protection. responsibility.

duty, duty, duty —

(what does that word even mean?)

suguru doesn’t remember. he can’t recall what made him step onto that train with such conviction, how he was able to smile so assuredly. how he was able to laugh, from the very bottom of his gut, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. he just can't remember.

who is he doing this for? what meaning lies in all this pain? 

suguru keeps watching, hoping for an answer that’ll save him just enough. waiting and watching. he’s always just watching, isn’t he? never changing anything. always too late, too weak, too fucking useless to stop even a single person from dying. 

he watches helplessly as a little girl gets shot in the head, for the crime of having been born different, for the sake of simple currency. watches helplessly as satoru carries her lifeless body in his arms, across a room full of people so vile that some deep, rotten, intrinsic part of suguru just wants to —

but there would be no meaning to it.

(does there really need to be one?)

suguru honestly doesn’t know, anymore.

riko dies.

(curses spring up like flies. he devours and devours.)

then haibara dies, too. 

(in the distance, he thinks he hears the sound of clapping.)

sorcerers. non-sorcerers. curses.

the words begin to rot inside his mouth, like wilted flowers, syrupy sweet and nauseating. crumbling on his tongue, numbing his senses until it’s all he can taste. a mouthful of honey, sticking to the walls of his throat, too sweet to stomach.

this is wrong, he thinks. everything is all wrong.

everything is wrong and i don’t know how to fix it.

— and then there’s you.

during your third year, both of you are busier than usual, but still find the time to talk when you can. the normalcy of your little stories is a comfort, to suguru — but also makes him burn with something he fears may be close to envy.

you tell him about your new school, your new town, your new beginning; bright and dazzling. one that suits you just fine.

the two of you are different, he realizes, all at once. some part of him always knew. you were born to be happy, kept away from the bloodshed, hands unsullied by the deep red that always dries beneath his fingernails. there was never a place for you in the world of curses. and he’s glad, that it’s true, he always has been, but —

(resentment festers in his gut. he can’t tell how long it’s been there, and he’s afraid to know the answer.)

these days, suguru takes a little longer to answer your texts. his voice comes out sounding a little more fatigued when he’s speaking to you through the phone, and he doesn’t talk as much as he used to. your voice soothes him, though, he thinks. just a tiny bit. but it’s enough.

(he’s doing this for you, too. he can’t forget that.)

and when you come to visit him, during his third year, suguru is surprised. surprised to see you, standing outside of his dorm, bags full of his favorite snacks in hand. smiling.

you look the same as always.

(he’s the only one who’s changed.)

it’s a pleasant surprise, though, despite everything. he really did miss you. in his life, your presence alone has been nothing but a comfort, for as long as he can remember. even now, when everything feels so blurry and uncertain, you appear to him as a flicker of starlight; shining through the darkness that’s been plaguing him for the past year.

so he tries to smile, tries to sound the same as always, but he knows you don’t buy it. you know because you know him, despite everything.

suguru wonders what you would think of him, if you could hear the thoughts he’s been having these past few weeks. he wonders what he looks like, reflected in your eyes. he wonders how much he’s changed since you last saw him.

(he hasn’t felt like himself in months.)

your presence is like a balm, to his soul, but it also seeks to hurt him further. because you’re still the same. still so understanding and wise and patient. you can tell that he’s fading, and he can tell that you can tell. but he doesn’t want to tell you why. he refuses to open up to you, because what would that accomplish? how could you possibly understand?

how could you understand his hatred, his resentment, towards the very people he’s supposed to protect? he told you that, himself. he decided to protect them, on his own accord. that’s his duty — steadfast, unyielding, inevitable. that’s all it was ever meant to be.

protect the weak. protect the ugly. protect everyone except his comrades, until all of them lie dead in a pile of maggots and tangly limbs and buzzing flies.

a bitter, heavy kind of vomit settles inside his chest, his throat. and somewhere deep inside suguru’s mind, in the very bottom of a drawer he vowed never to open, the image of non-sorcerers shifts, distorts, flickers on and off under the light.

protect those monkeys until his very last breath.

(what a fucking joke.)

you couldn’t understand. he doesn’t want you to. he promised himself that he would keep you away from that kind of darkness, no matter what, and —

and you’re the only good thing he has left.

not only that — you’re a non-sorcerer, too. and suguru knows what that means. if what his brain is telling him is true, if that’s really how it is, then you are no exception. then you’re just like the rest, something lesser, nothing but a —

(he thinks he might throw up.)

suguru does not tell you anything. despite everything, despite your pleading expression, despite the heavy bile at the bottom of his gut. he does not tell you what is truly wrong. he does not open up to you. 

and that is suguru’s first act of betrayal, to you. before he even betrays the jujutsu world.

(it is perhaps the only betrayal he’ll ever feel any kind of remorse over.)

you try, though. persistent in your affection. he loathes how little you’ve changed, how brightly you still shine when reflected in his eyes. you sit right next to him, under a pleasant, ephemeral starry sky, stars blurred by the light pollution, and tell him what you always have.

i’ll support you, no matter what. 

…

suddenly, all he can hear is the whooshing of the sea. as if he's been pulled underwater, a heavy weight tugging at his limbs, lungs gasping for air that doesn't exist. pure static, in his ears, a sharp crack of something. like a rib, or a train of thought. all he can taste is saltwater.

the dam begins to break. it cracks at the edges, like two giddy children poking a stick into a puddle layered with ice, giggling at their scattered reflections. memories resurfacing, images flashing in his subconscious. suguru looks at you like he’s lost. something inside of him breaks, disintegrates into a pile of despair. 

because you don’t understand what you’re telling him. you don’t understand what he thinks about doing, sometimes, when the nights are especially long and the school is especially empty and the taste of curses lies especially thick on his tongue.

you don’t understand. you never will. 

but you’re smiling at him, so very gentle. so accepting, so all-encompassing of everything that’s good, everything worth cherishing. just like always. 

suguru recalls your teary face; when you scraped your knee, when he left that town behind. he recalls all the ways you’ve soothed him, saved him, in all the years you’ve known him.

i’ll definitely come visit. i love you.

i’ll support you, no matter what.

what do they look like?

— suguru falters. these days, that’s all he ever seems to do.

how could he hate non-sorcerers, when you’re among them? how could he hate a world that has you in it?

(he can’t, he can’t, he can’t. he can’t hate you. not you.)

the words that spill so very easily from your lips break him. he can’t tell if you’ve mended the damage, or only worsened it. he can’t tell where the jagged hole inside his chest ends and begins. he can only tell that it’s extending, extending, extending.

suguru wants to fall apart. he wants to fall apart, for only you to see, because you’ve always been the only one who could ever understand. the only one who wouldn’t turn your eyes away from him, even back then. the only, only one. the only other white chrysanthemum.

he wants so desperately to be honest with you, to let every dark thought he’s ever had flow out from his lips. for you to hear, for you to scorn or to accept at your leisure, doom him or bless him, a bleeding dog at your feet. to get rid of the tangled mess of thoughts inside his muddled mind — to just let go of everything, even if it’s only for a minute or two. just a second would be fine.

suguru wants to drag you down with him. drag you down into the depths, into the abyss, to share the weight of his suffering. so that you can be together, just like you always have; through thick and thin. always and forever.

but he doesn’t.

(and what a betrayal that is.)

suguru keeps his pretty little mouth shut, and he gives you a smile. a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, the kind he always wears when he needs to lie convincingly.

he could tell you so many things. could ruin you completely, take you down with him. hand in hand, staining your unsullied skin with the blood on his own. into the gaping maw.

but at the end of the day, he chooses not to.

suguru chooses your peace of mind over his, just like he always has, and feeds you a vague half-truth. not quite a lie, but something that ignores the underlying question of your statement, a silent plea for sincerity. something deep and true, but almost sorrowful.

i know, he says.

i know you will.

the moment does not save him. but suguru does feel just a little more hopeful, a little less like he’s slowly rotting from the inside out. a little less like he’s completely and utterly alone, isolated in his agony.

you are the same as always. and what a relief that is. 

(for you, he can wade through the hell for just a little longer.)

when it’s time to say your goodbyes, suguru can tell you aren’t satisfied. that you wish you could do more. but he also knows that you won’t push it, because you’ve always respected him in a way no one else ever cares enough to do. 

before you leave, you tell him that you love him. in a quiet voice, a whisper, as if trying to squeeze some sincerity from his chest — a last-ditch attempt at reaching him. he squeezes your hand, instead, and doesn’t say it back.

suguru just smiles, flimsy, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

you look like you want to say something, but you don’t.

and he watches you go, with forlorn eyes, until the dot that is you gets too small to distinguish from the darkness of the night. until he can almost delude himself into thinking that you’ve turned into a star. he watches you go as if trying to burn the sight into his memory, as if this is the last time he’ll ever see you.

(the curse of i love you rots in his mouth, unspoken, unvoiced.)

two weeks later, suguru stands in front of a cage, covered in blood.

the girls in front of him, skinny, frail, crying — beaten and exhausted — look at him like he’s a god. him, pale, smiling, with blood staining his white uniform, bathed in moonlight —

like some kind of angel of death.

suguru soaks up the metallic scent of the room, basks in that sickeningly sweet feeling of release. he soothes the girls, as best he can. he leads them away, careful not to let them see the bodies. 

(there isn’t much left of them, anyhow.)

suguru geto makes his choice. the only choice that matters. 

he will twist himself into a curse. he will devour his ideal, until it’s all that’s left of him. he will embody it, become it, through and through. it’s fine if he dies in the process, it’s fine if everyone dies — just as long as it means something.

that is the conviction he will carry with him. the decision to only ever see the line between ends and means, the bright light at the end of a never-ending tunnel.

the blood of an entire village is on his hands.

(a part of him wants to throw up. another grins with ecstasy. every part agrees that it was inevitable.)

their screams weren’t beautiful. they were aggravating, revolting, the wretched buzzing of bugs ringing like static in his ears. but it felt good. it felt just. something in his bones settling into its rightful place, a spark of affirmation.

and suguru doesn’t stop there. as if desperate for the cup to finally run over, to make sure that there truly is no going back, his feet take him to a place he always hoped he’d never have to see again.

when suguru returns to that stiflingly silent town, to kill his parents, you are no longer there.

it’s not a surprise. he knows you escaped, long ago, just like him — just like you always said you would. not quite to tokyo, to your grave disappointment, but you managed to find some other town to live in. bigger, better. the new beginning he always hoped you’d get.

suguru does not want to think of you. he doesn't want to remember your face, the sound of your laughter, the way your eyes shone in the light. he wants to erase every single trace of your existence from his memory, if only to protect you from the person he will soon become. or perhaps only to spare himself the heartache of it all.

but when he passes by that one summer creek, forgetting you becomes an impossibility. 

his eyes gaze at the silver-hued fish, sparkling beneath the moonlight, the big cicadas singing sadly under the shadows of the trees. he closes his eyes, and breathes in the solitude, and recalls a child with teary eyes.

suguru knows what school you go to. he knows what your town is called, what your street looks like.

and it is far, far away from the town he’s in. far from tokyo, too. 

— and suguru is relieved.

(it gives him an excuse not to hunt you down just yet.)

the sight of his childhood home stirs no fondness in his heart. it is empty, it is silent, it is the same as always. and now it doesn’t even have you in it, anymore.

so it doesn’t matter.

suguru moves on with conviction, with bloodstains scattered across his clothes, seeping into the fabric. the screams of his parents don’t mean anything — they blur together with old echoes of evil, crazy, wrong. 

(there is something wrong with that child.)

their blood sticks to the soles of his shoes and he is repulsed by their fragility. their blood stains his shirt and he is elated by the irony of it all. all he sees is a blur of red. 

the road before him becomes clear.

finally, there truly is no turning back. that one sliver of good still left in him, crushed beneath the heel of his boot. at last. homicide, patricide — the more he adds, the easier it’ll be. easier to distance himself, easier to convince himself that his choice matters. that the blood of mere animals is a small price to pay for the future he envisions.

that he is right. that he is just.

(self-affirmation. what a holy thing it is.)

there is still much left for him to do. so suguru leaves the town behind.

he leaves that tiny summer creek behind.

it is a premature death; a resignation of identity. he isn’t an adult, not yet, but he has long since stopped being a child. he stopped being a child the moment he saw a bullet go through the skull of an innocent girl, the moment he saw haibara’s ghostly pale skin. no sorcerers stay children for very long.

none of it matters, anymore.

time passes with a speed that’s almost frightening. 

suguru disappears, almost entirely faded, leaving only geto in his wake. a new person, an entirely different human being — ten years of living in an echo chamber, ten years of forming his personality in the shape of something twisted.

(something almost divine.)

and geto is right. just. geto has conviction, and that’s all he needs. everything goes according to plan; geto has a goal, and a family to pursue that goal with, to pursue that goal for. everything finally feels just right. breathing feels a lot easier. living feels a lot easier. 

but everyone has a weakness.

and there is one thing, only one thing, that still acts as a thorn in his side. something that holds him back, a stain yet to be wiped away, a piece of gum stuck to the sole of his shoe. a tattered memory, clinging to his subconscious as if haunting him.

(i’ll support you, no matter what.)

if only you could see him now.

when geto left his old life behind, he did not contact you. he did not say goodbye. he threw away his phone, deleted every single thing that someone could use to locate him with, and left. he hasn’t heard from you in years, hasn’t spoken to you. 

but he has seen you.

geto knows where your town is. what your apartment looks like. he knows what university you go to, where your go-to café is located. 

so resisting the temptation eventually becomes impossible. 

he tries not to think of you, he really does. he tries to act like you are nothing, to him, because you aren’t. you are proof of weakness and a fragility that geto loathes, proof of his own foolishness, his young naivety. you are everything he hates and everything rotten and everything he’s vowed to cleanse from the earth.

but, despite that undeniable truth, geto cannot help but seek you out.

he tells himself that it means nothing. that he’s only doing it to make sure he knows where he’s got you, like a predator watching over their prey, preparing to lunge out of hiding when the moment is right. because geto knows that your death, at his hands, is inevitable. what you are is a weakness, a connection that lingers on his skin like a mold, one he still has to the creatures that disgust him so.

so it’s inevitable.

in reality, he should have killed you first. before his parents, before the village — he should have killed you, because that would have solidified his devotion in a way nothing else ever could. but he didn’t. 

geto likes to think of it as a symbol, of sorts. that he’ll save you for last. the same way children eat every last part of the cake, greedily, before gulping down the strawberry. every single non-sorcerer will be dead by the time he gets to you. you’ll be the one remaining obstacle, the one final stain to rinse away before his dream becomes reality, the one thing still standing between him and the divinity he seeks. 

it is an honour, geto thinks, an honour he would not bestow to anyone but you.

but until that time comes, all he can do is watch over you. silently, so you don’t notice. always from afar, sometimes through the eyes of the curses he’s bound to. just to make sure that you’re still alive. that you haven’t tripped over your shoelaces and gotten yourself into a car accident, or gulped down a mouthful of food too fast and choked to death, or anything similarly pathetic. he wouldn’t put it past you. really, he has no idea how you’ve survived this long without him.

weak, fragile, clumsy. soft enough to sink his teeth into. you are everything that geto hates. you are nothing, nothing at all.

(and you are the same as always, despite everything. what an aggravation that’s become.)

he watches you, anyway; like a god finding amusement in his creations, an omniscient overseer watching you stumble day to day. he watches as you live your life, as you talk to other people with that familiar smile on your face. it hasn’t changed in the slightest.

he watches you laugh, watches you grab a crêpe from a street vendor, watches you cry when you think nobody is there to see.

(the sight sends a tremor running through his soul, one he desperately wants to pretend not to feel.)

on melancholic summer days, when the sun paints the sky pink and golden, he watches you clutch onto his old sweater. one you always said you were going to return, but never did — never got the chance to. you used to tell him it was too comfortable not to steal. that it smelled like him, that it made you feel less lonely. geto so tenderly wishes he could have forgotten those words, by now.

but he watches you, in the solitude of your apartment, as you bury your face in the wool and inhale the fading tinge of his old cologne. then you cry and cry, like a child, until the moon rises in the sky; until you’re breathing softly, lulled to sleep by his scent.

(geto thinks to himself that you are a fool, to still miss him after all these years.)

it’s not an everyday occasion. most days, he does not think of you. there are many other monkeys to kill, many things to discuss. there’s money to be made, plans to be forged, wars to be brewed. geto is a busy man. a family man, no less.

but when boredom is all he can feel, he still finds himself seeking you out. just to make sure no one has gotten to you before him. just a god enjoying the struggles of a lesser being.

that’s all it is, geto tells himself. that’s all it’ll ever be, from now on.

no one needs to know if he spends the occasional morning checking up on you, curious if you did well on that exam you were studying for. no one needs to know if he absorbs the curses that sometimes cling to your fragile skin, gulping them down before they cause too much damage. no one needs to know if anyone who gives you a little too much trouble suddenly disappears off the face of the earth. 

no one needs to know if he reminisces, every once in a while, when the summer nostalgia is too much to bear. about your childhood, about that question you asked him — a million years ago, back when the center of his universe was a single summer creek. 

(no one needs to know if he finds comfort in your presence, even now.)

on days when the moon hangs low in the sky, and geto can’t choke back the longing in his chest, he sits by your bed and watches you sleep. a forlorn expression on his face, lips stuck in a tight line. it’s risky, careless, but he’s helpless to the temptation. 

most nights, you lie perfectly still. so still he can almost delude himself into thinking that it’s over, that you’ve passed on, that he won’t have to kill you after all. sometimes you twist and turn, mumble something unintelligible under your breath that he doesn’t catch.

he wonders what you dream about. he wonders if you ever have nightmares, if they’re ever about him. he wonders why he even cares at all.

geto resents you. resents you for existing, for smiling every day, for being a bridge between him and lesser creatures. he resents you, resents you, resents you.

(self-affirmation. what a holy thing, indeed.)

— he could kill you so easily. 

he wouldn’t even need a curse to do it. a flick of his pinkie would be more than enough. that’s how fragile you are; asleep, right in front of him, breathing softly while he watches you like how the fox watches the lamb.

(he could end all of this, right now, in the silence of the night. in your most vulnerable state.)

and yet, geto allows the opportunity to pass him by.

he can’t get too greedy. that’s what he tells himself, as he slips out of your window in the dead of night, leaving your sleeping figure behind him. it’s not the right time. he can let you sleep, for just a little while longer. the bags under your eyes have looked especially heavy, recently.

(he tries not to remember the sleepover you had as kids, when he stayed perfectly still as you dozed off on his shoulder. doing his best not to wake you, watching you fondly until the sun began to rise. back when all he wanted was to protect you.)

geto knows that you know he’s not dead. he knows because he’s almost certain that satoru spoke to you, back then, even if he probably didn’t let you in on any details. because he knows that you’re sharp, sharp enough to know that he’s alive.

and even if that were not the case, geto knows because he’s sent you gifts. letters. absentminded, almost taunting, cruel in their joviality — always anonymous, always mysterious and vague and impossible to trace back to him. but he knows that you know who they’re from.

a little dance, if you will. geto haunts you like a ghost. he never lets you see him, but he lets you know that he’s there, sometimes. just out of frame.

he can only hope it’ll eventually haunt you to death.

(if it ends up as a comfort to you, instead, then, well — it is what it is.)

all of it is a safety measure in disguise. a way to satisfy the yearning inside his chest, without coming too close. that doesn’t mean he never falters, though.

every once in a while, he feels strangely compelled to talk to you. to waltz into your home, in a lighthearted fashion, to soak up your shocked expression. to ask how you’ve been, casually, and watch you stammer, stumble over your words — he can imagine the face you’d make, the way the lilt of your voice would tremble. would you cry? he can’t help but wonder, sometimes.

yet he always resists the temptation. careful, cautious, with every move he makes. like a shadow. he deliberately leaves no traces of himself behind, no breadcrumbs for you to follow like the curious creature you are. geto lets you know that he’s there, but he doesn’t let you see him, because if he talks to you he knows that he’ll kill you. and he can’t have that, not just yet. 

eventually, he’ll do it. he’ll do it, and he’ll watch as your blood stains the silk of his robes like the inevitability it is. but not yet.

you’ll be the last one, the last one he’ll kill. the final proof of his devotion.

until then, he can have this. this sickeningly sweet scrutiny of your life, your life without him. the sound of your laughter, the reflection of untainted light in your iris.

(you are the same as always, and you are a weakness that geto is learning to live with.)

he can’t rest, won’t rest until it finally ends. until the curtain calls on your bloodied body, until he feels the cold skin of your palm against his lips.

only then will he finally know if it was all worth it. only then will he be free of this yearning. only then will he be able to say that the last remnants of suguru have been well and truly cleansed from his soul, that there is nothing left of the person he was.

only then will geto be able to call himself wholly divine. 

but until that time comes, he can do nothing but watch you. when the temptation begins to crawl under his skin again, when he needs to remind himself of what he’s fighting for. that one thing, at least, never once changed; suguru geto has always fought for you. for your protection, for your survival, for your demise.

for your happiness, in life or in death.

(geto hates you, loathes you, resents you for being what you are; but suguru will always, always love you. forever and ever. no matter what. 

and that will be their undoing.)

suguru geto dies without saying goodbye to you. 

if there are any regrets to speak of, any at all, then maybe that’d be it. he never got to see that shock on your face, never got to hear you stammer in the way you always used to when you were nervous.

in the golden hue of sunset, the last of his resentment finally fades away. the curse known as geto disappears, and what remains is no more than a ghost — the ghost of suguru, the person he was, the person he never quite stopped being.

and when geto disappears, when the last of his resentment fades away, suguru finally allows himself to think of you. fully, without interruption, without unspilled blood festering beneath his tongue. just one single touch of sincerity, one last indulgence before it all ends. he thinks of you, you as a person, not you as a non-sorcerer. he gives your memory the respect it deserves. something worth cherishing.

he wonders what you’re doing, right now. he wonders if you studied enough for that exam next week, if you found a good gift for your friend’s birthday party. he wonders if you still miss him, even though he'll never be deserving of it.

satoru stands in front of him, genuine, sincere. and suguru thinks that he is a fool, just like you; to still have any kind of affection left for someone like him. after he left you both behind, that summer.

satoru doesn’t curse him. suguru wishes he would.

a soft bout of laughter falls from his lips, as the sun sets behind him, and he knows you would have found the sight breathtaking. you always did love sunsets, didn't you? the sun was setting when he found you with that bruise on your leg, he recalls — such a miniscule detail. he wonders why he remembers only now.

suguru chokes back his tears, still smiling. it’s a smile of love. a smile of regret. he thinks of satoru. 

at least curse me a little at the very end.

those should be his final words. he should avert his gaze, follow the script, tear his eyes away from the only other person besides you who ever truly knew him —

but he doesn’t. he can’t. suguru looks straight at him, at satoru, into his eyes, so blue they seem to gleam in the orange hue of the melting sun. sparkling like little galaxies, like the crinkling of soda pops, like crystallized summer skies. he looks beautiful, as beautiful as he always was.

(i wish i had told you, suguru thinks. i wish i had told you everything.)

in a voice so small he barely hears it, so tender that geto would’ve felt disgusted to his very core, suguru asks his best friend for one last favour. he’s not sure why, not sure why it matters —

but maybe, just this once, it’s fine if it’s meaningless.

satoru listens, intently. he looks at his best friend with eyes so soft it makes suguru want to laugh and cry and go back to a time when they were all happy. but they can’t, that choice was lost ten years ago — he threw it away. smothered it beneath his boot heel. there was never any going back, from the very beginning. 

satoru answers his plea. one final favour, one best friend to another. 

of course.

a shaky breath. he can’t tell who it came from.

of course i will.

suguru smiles. a full, genuine smile, that reaches his eyes and blossoms like a flower in the light of the sun. it’s the last time anyone will see it.

satoru clenches his jaw. he crouches down, and presses his fingers against his best friend’s battered body, right over his bleeding heart. he will never, ever forgive himself for what he's about to do.

(suguru already has.)

and the moment before the last flicker of light leaves his eyes, suguru chooses to think of you.

he thinks of your smile, the way your lips curled up at even the smallest things. he thinks of your curiosity, how it always lead him back to you. he thinks of what could have been.

he thinks of that question you asked him, all those years ago — how accepted it made him feel. that sensation of being understood. suguru thinks you saved his life, that day.

(he never got to thank you for it.)

you were his childhood friend. his nearest, dearest, oldest one. 

suguru doesn't believe the world he lives in is kind enough to allow him a second chance. and he doesn't think he really deserves one, either way.

but if there is a next life, if he’s lucky enough to be reborn —

then suguru hopes he’ll be born as a dragonfly, so he can find his way back to you.

he’ll meet you, again; in the afterglow of sunset, by that dusty, forgotten, tiny summer creek. framed by silver-hued fish and cicadas, and the silence of a town that glimmered while you were both in it.

he won’t be able to wipe your tears away, won’t be able to clean the bruise on your knee — but he can be with you. and maybe, in your next lives, that’ll be enough.

(what a lovely thought.)

suguru smiles, and lets a final breath of air course through his burning lungs.

— it tastes like summer.

there is a silent understanding, between the two of you.

it’s been ten years since you last spoke to satoru gojo. it wasn’t a very pleasant conversation, and somehow, you doubt this will be an exception. an acute awareness lies heavy in the air — and deep down, some part of you knows what he’s about to tell you.

(as if it was an inevitability.)

gojo doesn’t smile. his voice has no masked amusement to it, no sense of joviality. if you strain your ears, you think it may even be wavering, slightly, so faint it’s hard to tell for sure. just that one low shiver of his lips, saying more than words ever could.

he doesn’t beat around the bush. and you see that for the kindness that it is, despite the ice cold chill that creeps into your veins when his words spill out into the air, a full body shiver traveling down your spine.

he tells you that suguru is dead, and you don’t flinch. you don’t even cry. that comes later.

in the moment, all you can do is nod, a little pitiful, teeth digging into the flesh of your bottom lip to stop it from wobbling. like you’re trying to be brave. 

truthfully, you had a feeling that was the case.

sometimes, it was as if you could feel him. just barely out of reach, a certain cologne lingering on your windowsill, a box of cookies you’ve liked since you were little delivered to your doorstep. a sudden feeling of being watched. a note wishing you luck on whatever exam or driver’s test or job interview you had the next day, accompanied by a silly smiley face so distinctly suguru it made you want to cry.

— how cruel of him.

but you couldn’t help but feel comforted by it, all the same. it made you feel like he was still with you, somehow, like he still cared. even though he disappeared from your life without saying anything. even though gojo told you explicitly all those years ago to stay away, if you ever saw him, as if he was suddenly dangerous —

but you could never be afraid of him. you don’t think you have it in you. 

to you, suguru will always just be the boy who helped you up when you scraped your knee, all those years ago. a sweet, cool kid, who held your hand firmly and gently wiped the blood off your skin.

(he’ll always be your nearest, dearest, oldest friend. even if you aren’t his.)

but lately, there’s been nothing. you haven't felt any traces of him at all, no lingering gazes boring into your back. so you knew. deep down, maybe you always kind of knew.

gojo looks at you with compassion, understanding. and without him having to say it, you know he loved suguru too. you know because his breathing is shaky, because his eyes look puffy from hours of crying; you know because grief is like a stench, thick and heavy, overwhelming, one that clings to your skin and haunts your very being. just like love.

and you can smell it on the both of you.

(you both loved the boy who died for his ideals, the man who was so moral it killed him.)

the news will sink in, later. you are sure that you will crumble, and you are sure that you will cry. you’re sure that the road ahead will be a long one, full of obstacles and thorns. but that’s fine. you’ll deal with it when the time comes. suguru was always a little mystical, a little too good to be true.

maybe you always sort of assumed things would end like this; that he’d walk ahead without you, with all his whispered secrets and gentle lies. 

(asshole.

he could have given you a call, at least. even just once.)

for now, all you can do is try to keep your trembling skin intact. and you assume that gojo will leave, now that you know, that this was all he came here for. just a messenger of death, coated in a grief so strong you doubt he’ll ever be rid of it.

but gojo doesn’t leave. 

he hands you something, instead.

a polaroid, you quickly realize. a photograph, of three kids — one with white hair, one with brown hair, and one with black hair. the black haired boy is trying hard not to smile, you can tell. the other two have got their arms around him, squeezing his body tightly with matching grins, throwing up peace signs. he looks at them with exasperation in his eyes, but you can tell that there’s a love there. you can tell, you know, because despite everything, you still know him.

a lump forms in your throat.

it’s not the original copy, is what gojo tells you, apologetic. you’re almost certain that he kept it for himself, and you don’t blame him. i’m sorry. but i wanted to… you know.

(he wanted to give you something to hold onto.)

the gesture is a little bit awkward, just a tad clumsy. but it’s a genuine concern, a sincere kindness. you aren’t really surprised that suguru spent his last moments with this man instead of you.

gojo continues to speak, and you continue to listen, attentive — hungry for anything to mend the hole in your heart. but your eyes never once stray from the photograph.

(suguru looks so, so happy.)

he tells you that suguru talked about you a lot, back then. and without him having to say it, you know what he really means is he loved you a lot. the words of consolation ring like static, in your ears. it hurts. the hole in your heart just keeps extending, extending, extending.

gojo notices. so he gets to the point, the final point, the only one that matters. this is his duty, too — granting suguru’s last request. the only one he ever asked of him in words.

(it’s the least he could do, for the man he loved so dearly, the one who left him behind in the shadow of summer.)

he tells you that there’s one more thing. that suguru asked him to tell you something, that it was the last thing he ever said. words that he wanted you to hear, more than anything.

gojo’s voice does not waver. it is not his place.

you listen. you listen as if it will bring him back. you listen as if it is the last thing you will ever do.

and gojo speaks.

the words mean everything, and also nothing at all. how very like him. they bounce off the walls of your apartment, spilling into the suffocating air, echoing inside your mind. cutting into your bloodstream, rooting themselves in a particularly soft spot deep within your ribcage, chrysanthemums blooming from your flesh. petals filling up your stomach until you can scarcely breathe.

the final words of your childhood friend. your nearest, dearest, oldest one; suguru geto, who you will always love, in the same way the sun loves the moon, as naturally as breathing.

the dam breaks. the sky shatters. the sob you choke on tastes salty, and gojo looks remorseful, his figure blurred by your tears. everything comes crashing down around you — an inevitability you were hoping to put off, in the same way suguru put off talking to you all those years.

and now, finally, he tells you his honest feelings. when it’s already far too late. how very, very like him.

(tell them i’m sorry. and that i hope their exam goes well.)

— honestly. what a fucking asshole.

not once did you ask for an apology. you never wanted one, never thought to even wish for it. you didn’t need one.

all you wanted was for him to come back to you. to find you, again, the way he always did.

tears cascade down your scrunched-up face, big and childlike, but no one’s there to wipe them away anymore. you cradle the photograph in your hands, savouring every single memory you have of him. all the love your heart can muster.

the tears never seem to end. they continue to run down your cheeks, until all you can smell is sea salt, until the sun has set in the horizon, until the moon has hanged itself in the sky. a silent comfort, but it’s not enough. it never will be.

a sniffle pushes past your lips, and you hear yourself laugh — bitter, raspy, gentle all the same. what a moron, you whisper, a soft lull of your tongue. didn’t he know?

(you forgave him long ago.)

bonus 👀

#get u a man who loves you so deeply it causes him cognitive dissonance #im a lil unsure abt this piece pshshs but it has a rly special place in my heart!! #i just like the idea of geto being so desperately in denial about his love for u that he forces himself to hate u. self-affirmation yknow? #subconsciously putting u on a pedastal above the rest… being unable to let go of the connection between u even though he wants to sever it #having this evident fondness for you but its constantly battling with the part of him that hates what your existence means for him #telling himself that he’ll ’save u for last’ but its more of a measure to keep himself from killing u bc he knows his ideal is unattainable #so he’ll never have to kill you. it'll never get to that point. he wants to so badly though. but does he really? #yeahhh. im normal abt fucked up curse user geto <3 soft canon divergent sugu is still my fave to write for tho #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto x you #geto suguru x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #geto angst #jjk angst #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #geto x y/n #jjk x y/n

[aemrsy]

Jake Webber x sensitive fem reader🫶🏼

delicate

a/n: omgomg first request hellooo! i really hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it, mwah 💋

summary: your sensitive heart can't take the stress of day to day life sometimes but jake is always there for you during the rough days

tw: crying, breakdown

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

you were always an overly sensitive person you felt everything very deeply sometimes it feels like a blessing but most times it's a curse, you always felt so dumb for having such big emotions.

your boyfriend jake understands your sensitivity more than most people and you'll always be grateful for that. he makes you feel so seen and heard even if you're crying over some spilled milk.

today was a really hard day for you there's been one bad thing after another like dominoes you had just came back home after spending the day out running errands. you come home to an empty house it's dark so you switch the lights on you head to your room sighing and falling onto the bed with a loud sigh your cat crawls up on the bed nestling on the pillow near your head you smile slightly stroking his fur.

with another sigh you get up grabbing your computer you had been putting off editing this new video for your channel but it's long overdue and you need to post soon. you open up your computer heading straight for your editing app but something was wrong your internet wasn't working you let out a frustrated huff and desperately kept trying to refresh the app.

"no no no please no.." you said under your breath on the verge of tears "come on please work please" you had tried everything nothing was working you pushed your computer aside in frustration.

you curled up in a ball knees to your chest and head dug into your knees everything was just horrible today your go to coffee place was closed for renovation so you skipped breakfast and while you were running errands you lost your airpods and you came home hoping for something to go right today but it just wasn't working out for you.

you started crying your mascara staining your cheeks, you picked up your phone feeling a wave of frustration as soon as you see the no wi fi icon in the corner you ignored the frustration and decided to call the only person you know would understand.

you clicked jake's contact and impatiently waited as it rang

"hey y/n you okay?"

he asked because you hardly ever call anyone without texting first to make sure they can call

"where are you?"

he took note of her shaky voice and sniffles over the phone line

"i'm on my way"

he was actually on his way home but he knew something was up and that you needed him

"really?"

you said in between cries

"yes really baby i'm coming hold on okay?"

you nodded momentarily forgetting he can't see you. you put your phone down not wanting to end the call until he was here.

in the next 15 minutes you heard the doorbell of your apartment ring you hurried to the door wanting nothing but to be in his arms your body pressed against his warmth.

you opened the door looking up at your boyfriend with glossy eyes and pink mascara stained cheeks he immediately engulfed you in a hug you stroking your back

"oh baby.."

you sobbed into his chest all your frustration taking over your head

"i'm sorry it's just all too much today.."

you said shakily he pulled away to look at you

"no hey, never apologize for things like this please.."

after you cried for a while he led you to your room both of you sitting on the white fluffy sheets you sat there wiping the corners of your eyes with your sleeve he had his hand on your hip rubbing it up and down hoping to give you any sense of comfort

"wanna tell me what's been going on?"

he spoke up breaking the silence tucking your hair behind your ear as he spoke

"it's stupid jake.."

you blurted letting out a sad laugh

"hey, nothing that makes you this upset is stupid no matter what it is hon."

you smiled at him he always knew the right things to say you were feeling so grateful and wondering what you did to deserve a boyfriend this understanding you sighed getting ready to tell him everything.

"it's just been a sucky day and i came home and tried to edit that vlog i filmed for the channel a couple days ago and i don't have any internet so it just threw me off the edge you know?"

he gave you his full attention nodding as you spoke

"okay well how about we head to my place for the night i'll bring your computer and you don't have to worry about editing or uploading anything i'll do it all for you does that sound good?"

you smiled your first genuine smile today and you nodded

the rest of the night was so perfect you were screaming songs in the car on the way to his house and when you got there you and johnnie raided the kitchen for snacks while jake took care of your vlog for you.

you were so grateful that jake and johnnie were in your life you'd be so lost without them.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

#jake webber x reader #jake webber #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie and jake #tara yummy #johnnie guilbert

[piichuu]

♡ BEING COMFORTED BY HIM

FEATURING: ryunosuke akutagawa, osamu dazai, ranpo edogawa, doppo kunikida, chuuya nakahara, tecchou suehiro

WARNINGS:

RYUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA

akutagawa has never been the best with words, especially not around you who makes his heart beat some extra miles per hour. just having you interlock your fingers with his is enough for words to clog up in his throat. so when your boyfriend finds you crying your eyes out in the living room, he freezes, what does he do now?

there is no time to think. hearing your sniffles and sobs is enough for him to rush into the living room and sit down beside you on the couch. you’re curled up into a ball with your knees pressed against your chest, your head slightly turning as you can feel the presence of akutagawa who is looking at you with wide eyes.

there isn’t much he needs to do. your arms already wrap around his neck in a second to pull him close. he pats your back gently and hums as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. there is no need to utter a single word, because just getting to cling onto the warmth of him is enough for the tears to eventually stop escaping your eyes.

OSAMU DAZAI

the two of you are out shopping together as dazai can feel your grip on his hand tighten. your chest is heaving up and down quicker than usual while your eyes begin to fill with panic. there are too many people around in the giant mall and dazai who’s been your boyfriend for years now, knows exactly what to do.

he makes sure to hold your hand in a strong grip so you won’t get lost in the crowd as he pushes through as quick as he can towards the exit. when looking back at you, there are already tears that have begun to stream down your cheeks which must only make matters worse as strangers are seeing you like this. “i’m getting you somewhere safe, don’t worry,” he says as you finally get out of the mall.

further away, there is an empty park where dazai drags you, constantly looking back to make sure you aren’t having too bad of a meltdown. “let’s sit here,” he mumbles as the two of you finally reach a bench. you’re quick to sit down, trying to gather yourself by closing your eyes, but the adrenaline is still running through your body. “it’s okay, my love. you’re safe now,” dazai whispers while wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close, letting you rest your head against his shoulder.

his hand strokes your back and he places a few kisses to your temple as you try to match your breathing with his calmer one. “there is no need to worry, i’m here.”

RANPO EDOGAWA

when ranpo finds you crying in the bedroom the two of your share, his first thought is to bring you some sweets. of course, who wouldn’t want that to cheer up? well, he doesn’t yet seem to understand the fact that some people need more than something to eat to feel better.

he sits on the bed beside you, putting a bowl with different candies on the night stand. “i got you some sweets to cheer up,” ranpo explains, but when your tears don’t stop streaming down your cheeks, he furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side. it’s not often that he gives away the candy that he has bought to just anyone, so the fact that it doesn’t even help confuses him.

you’re hidden under a blanket as sobs make themselves heard. ranpo hasn’t seen you like this before, most likely due to the fact that you’re still a new relationship, so now when the snacks aren’t enough, he doesn’t know what to do. but as your boyfriend, he can’t just sit and watch, maybe some closeness is what you need?

“please don’t cry, i don’t want you to be sad,” he whispers while making his way under the blanket so he can wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, placing a few kisses there. “i’m here, so please relax,” one of his hands stroke your arm until the sobs eventually quieten down. “that’s good, let’s stay here for a while. don’t want you to become more sad.”

DOPPO KUNIKIDA

kunikida is a caring man, that is something that is difficult to go unnoticed. whenever you become sick, he’s by your side to feed you soup as well as some medicine. if you trip and fall, he will make sure nothing is broken and kiss every single scratch on your body before wrapping the small wounds you’ve gotten into bandages.

so it comes to no surprise that he won’t change when seeing you cry in the kitchen, hunching over the counter. the room smells burnt and anyone who looked inside the trash can would be able to see the burnt pizza that you had put in the oven for way too long.

“i wanted to cook for once and do something nice for you, you’ve been so busy all day and-“ kunikida shakes his head and puts his finger over your lips. “it’s okay, darling. let’s just order take out instead, okay? you can cook again tomorrow when you haven’t had a tough day,” he puts an arm around your waist and pulls you close, allowing you to bury your face into the crook of his neck.

his hand is warm on your back while his lips grazes over your cheek. “it’s okay, don’t worry about it. i’m happy you thought about me,” he wipes the tears away from your face and smiles softly. “now, what do you want to order? choose whatever you want.”

CHUUYA NAKAHARA

it has already become night when chuuya arrives home from work and it does not come as a surprise when he finds you laying on the couch, most likely being up, waiting for him to come back home just to make sure he’s safe. being part of the mafia does include constant danger, so you will always make sure he comes home safe and sound.

something that does however come as a surprise is the sniffles that suddenly bounces off the walls and reaches his ears. it is only now that he notices your trembling body as you’re hidden under a blanket, your face however being visible for his eyes to see the tears that have made their way down your cheeks.

at that moment, he drops everything in his hands and walks into the living room, sitting on the floor so he can be face to face to you who’s lying on your side. your chest is heaving up and down while your eyes are squeezed closed. “what’s wrong? is it because i’m home late? i thought i sent you a text-“ “it’s not that chuuya, i-i just had a really bad day.”

even as he lets out a sigh of relief, he can’t help his chest from tightening when the tears won’t stop running down your cheeks. he hesitantly puts a hand on your cheek and rubs it gently. “can i do anything?” chuuya’s voice grows quiet as you now open your eyes and nod, moving a little to make place for him on the couch.

that’s all he needs to know what it is you want. he gets on the couch beside you and wraps his arms around your waist, letting you cry into his chest. his cheeks grow slightly red at the close proximity, but his heart also grows double the size, almost exploding by knowing that you trust him so much to the point that you want his hugs for comfort. he will definitely give them to you every single time you ask.

TECCHOU SUEHIRO

if it is one thing tecchou suehiro hates, it is seeing you cry. he hates knowing the fact that you have gone through something throughout the day that has brought you to this point. so when something has hurt you like this, he will make sure that he will be the one to comfort you, because at the end of the day, you only deserve the best.

he is quiet when wandering over to you who’s curled up in bed, sobbing with your hands covering your face. tecchou doesn’t do anything about it, instead he lies down behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. “you’re alright, i’m here,” he whispers while pulling a blanket over the two of you, wanting to make sure you’re warm during such a tough time.

you intertwine your fingers with his as the tears continue to fall down your cheeks. “jus-just had a bad day at work, there’s too mu-much to do,” you stutter, almost choking on your tears.

tecchou nods and presses a kiss to your temple. “that’s okay, i’m here to take care of you now. get some rest, you must be really tired, i will help you with your work when you wake up, alright? so get some sleep, i will be here to hold you and look after you the entire time, don’t worry.”

TAG LIST: @nobody289x @q2iepie @chilichopsticks @satohruu @scaraslover @anqelically @nosh1tsherl0ck @twinkle-tw1nkle

if you want to join the tag list, fill out this form <333

#bungou stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs fluff #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #ryunosuke akutagawa x reader #osamu dazai x reader #ranpo edogawa #doppo kunikida #chuuya nakahara x you #chuuya nakahara x reader #tecchou suehiro x reader #tecchou suehiro #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd aktugawa #bsd tecchou #bsd fluff #bsd headcanons #bsd x reader #bsd chuuya #x reader