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#sunflower lawyer
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Sunflower Valentine
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artwork by @eu--lalia
Higurma Masterlist
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Imagine leaving Higuruma a bouquet of sunflowers on his desk on Valentine's day.
He'll quickly deduce that whoever left them was making a play on his name and his career as a lawyer. So it's someone he knows.
Although he'd prefer roses if someone was leaving him flowers, he's flattered nonetheless that there's a person believing he's bouquet worthy.
The little card that came with them says 'To balance out your gloominess'.
He'll chuckle to himself 'Gloomy? I'm not gloomy. Broody perhaps.'
The rest of his day is spent trying to figure out who sent them, and he'll have a goofy grin on his face whenever he glances at them. He'll try his best to draw attention to them every time someone comes in the room, like he's not so discreetly saying 'someone sent me a Valentine's bouquet!'
"Pretty bouquet." You comment as you walk in to hand him a report.
"Oh, noticed them did you? Looks like I'm popular around here," he'll drawl, trying not to look too pleased with himself.
"Or it could mean someone doesn't want to look at you again."
His smugness fades. "What do you mean?"
"Oh cmon, you know the old Greek tale? Apollo turned his lover Clytie into a sunflower so that he'd never have to look at her face again after she betrayed him to a sea nymph."
His cheer immediately drops and you feel bad for him. "But I doubt that. Very few people know that fact. I'm sure whoever sent them intends to see your face again. Perhaps the next day morning."
"Next day morning?" he sounds confused.
You nod your head. "Yeah. Sunflowers need to be plucked in the early morning otherwise they wilt. So maybe whoever sent them was hoping they'd see your face the next morning after you've... Wilted."
You give him a playful smirk and walk out.
"Wilted...? What...?"
It takes a few seconds before the cogs in his brain start work.
"Hold on now y/n!"
He scrambles out of the office behind you.
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Sunflower divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
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arusearu · 1 month
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writing hiromi songfics with these songs in mind🤭🤭
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actualsunflower · 1 year
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Work says I have 1 week before they fire me so. Not sure what to do here. Guess I have just a few days to decide to quit first but there's so much I have to pay for medically and otherwise. Really not sure what to do here. Jobs in person aren't an option. And other remote jobs are the exact same bullshit
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hothothotch · 4 months
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hi sweetheart! after you absolutely killed my last request and cleaned every dish with it MM MM MMMMM I'm back
this time, DBF!Hotch. The two of you got caught on your dad's new security camera beside the house that you didn't know about. Your dad tries to send aaron home to chew you out on it but Aaron gets all defensive and refuses to let you take the fall for both of your actions (maybe this leads to aaron's first acknowledgement that he loves you, 😮‍💨) but yes just protective!hotch standing up for you and your relationship 🦋🦋
Hello I'm baaaack!
I'm finally taking the web off the asks that got lost on my inbox when I disappeared, so you may see me for a few days!
Requests are still open, and you're invited to send anything Aaron Hotchner on my way.
Thank you for your request!
LUCK: sucess or failure apparently brought by chance rather than through one's own actions. Chance considered as a force that causes good or bad things to happen.
With you, it was usually bad things.
Of course, there were exceptions — like when you graduated in law, only a few months ago; or the day your father (the Senator) allowed you to go for a guided visit to the FBI to study it's many Units just because you wanted to see law being applied on different contexts; or — and this one was your absolute favorite — when you stumbled into your dad's best friend, Aaron Hotchner.
The latter one had been an absolute blast.
Aaron Hotchner was BAU's Unit Chief, and thanks to his ties with your father, he had been the one responsible for your tour of the sixth floor. Aaron had been attentive and careful, he embraced your curiosity as if he was being paid to give someone a tour, and not to find serial killers.
At the end of your tour, he offered you his number because, "I was a lawyer, so if you ever need something, or another tour, just give me a call".
One week later, you called him to ask for advice on a hard case you've taken at the law firm you were working at; Aaron asked you to dinner so you could talk privately about it, and helped you go over the case files. You also talked some more about your private lives — how he had an 8-year-old son, how you had a dog, how both your jobs took more time from you than you wanted. At the end of the dinner, there was another one scheduled.
Aaron had to reschedule that one (a case in Alaska wanted his immediate attention), but he knocked on your door first thing when he came back, a bouquet of flowers (sunflowers, to be exact) in hand as he proposed you'd go out for that delayed dinner. You accepted right away.
The third date was at your home, and that was the first time you kissed. The first time you've done way more than kissing. By the time Aaron left your home that night — staying over wasn't an option when he had a son at home —, you were sure there was nothing you wanted more than a solid career and to have that man's hands on you again.
That was when things started to go wrong.
You've had your fourth date scheduled when a pipe at your home exploded, causing a flood to start in your bathroom and spread all over your house; and while you weren't excited to go back into living with your father, that was the only available (and financially worthy) option, because you certainly wouldn't ask Aaron to let you live with him.
No. Nope. Absolutely not.
It wasn't like you were dating, on the romantic sense of the word. Yes, you had feelings for him; yes, you messaged so often that people had asked more than once if you were in a relationship; and yes, you did way more than just making out like hormonal teenagers whenever you had a second to be together.
But Aaron had a son, and you had a golden retriever (and said golden retriever was too attached to Aaron, to be honest), and a month and a few days of hookup wasn't enough to justify calling someone and saying, "Hey, mind if I crash down at yours while my pipes are being changed?".
"Yes, honey" Aaron nodded, looking down at you as he played with your hair, "That's exactly what you should've said".
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head in bewilderment. That was probably the third time you've been having that discussion, but it was the first time you've done it personally since Aaron had just came back from a case.
As usual, Aaron spent the night at home with Jack (he did invite you to go over, but you didn't feel like you were this far in your relationship to say yes) and appeared first thing in the morning at your father's house to see you. Now, you were lying together on the backyard, Aaron looking down at you, prompted up on his shoulders as you laid on the towel you brought out.
It was intimate, cute. The kind of moment you wouldn't have anywhere else, since the two of you lived on apartments. It was special, as if there was something more going on there, something unspoken.
Frightening. That was the word to describe it. And yet...
"I'll keep that in mind next time" you replied, a smile spreading on your face at the sight of the smallest quirk on his lips, "I like it when you smile, Aaron".
Aaron's smile widened, and God — you could feel your heart beating faster at that godly image, at the fact that you had put that smile on his face, the realization that his look of adoration was for you, and not any other woman.
"I like it when you smile, too" he whispered, leaning to press a soft kiss against your lips, "Even if this is not a rare occasion, because you're the softest person I've met".
"Oh, come on!" you pushed him away, and even if it was nothing more than the touch of your hand against his chest, Aaron pretended to fall backward on the towel, a silent invitation for you to lay on his chest, "I'm not soft!".
"Yes, you are" Aaron replied with a laugh, "Even more than Garcia, and she's essentially a marshmallow".
You gasped at his words, placing your hand on your heart as if he had offended you, "I can't believe you said that! I am a serious lawyer!".
"Never said you weren't, honey" Aaron pointed, pressing a soft kiss against your head, "Just that you're a very soft lawyer, that's always good to everybody".
"Which some would point as a weakness".
"Some are stupid" Aaron shrugged, "You are not. You're the best lawyer I've met, and I know you can do great things, baby".
You didn't know how to react to his words if there was an appropriate way to react. On these few months you've been seeing each other, Aaron had made a point of cheering you on whenever he could, and even managed to watch some of your court hearings (a benefit he got from being both an ex-lawyer and an FBI Agent), always having some strategic input for the next one.
Aaron has been helping, and has been hearing. He believed you even when you weren't sure your father believed.
God, you loved that man.
"Thank you" you whispered shyly, moving to kiss his lips, "I don't know what—".
"What the fuck is happening here?".
So, here's where the word luck suddenly turns into unluck. That specific moment in time, when you realize that the feeling of something missed you've been nurturing, had nothing to do with a lack of word to define your relationship with Aaron, but with the fact that at the end of the day... your father had no idea you've been dating Aaron.
It wasn't like you were hiding it from him — you've been open about dating someone, and he was aware that he knew that someone, but in truth you've never properly told him who that someone was. And while you wanted to say it was pretty obvious (because you've lost count on how many times you and your dad talked about Aaron when having dinner together), your dad had never been the one to read between the lines.
So, yeah. That was kinda your fault.
"Dad!" you stood up immediately, thanking every god available you and Aaron had decided to just lay outside, and not do something else, "You're home early".
"Yeah? You tell me" your dad snorted bitterly, looking between you and Aaron with anger written all over his face, "I was watching the security camera because I know this is when you get Lucky ready for her walk, and what do I see? You and Aaron here together! What was I supposed to do?".
You had some answers on your mind, but none of them seemed important as you looked around, eyes half-closed as you studied the space around you, "There are no security cameras on the backyard".
"Thank God I put on some last week!" your father pointed, "I thought you'd be safer if I did, and now I see that was providential for some other reasons".
You noticed when Aaron stood up beside you, his hand touching the small of your back softly, "There's no reason for you to talk with that this way".
"No reason? No—" your dad stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose for a second before he pointed at Aaron, "You, I want you out of my house. And you—".
"No".
For a second, you thought you'd been the one to mutter that simple word, that you had dared to say 'no' to your father to defend a... situationship with Aaron; it made sense because in your heart you wanted — craved — to tell your father that he couldn't tell you who you could date, or to put your "I'm an adult" speech to use, but you hadn't been the person to retort.
It had been Aaron.
"What did you say?" your father barked, his eyes twitching in nervousness.
"I said no" Aaron replied, taking a step in front of you, "You're not gonna talk like that with her. Not today, not ever".
"I'm her father—".
"That doesn't mean you don't owe her respect!" Aaron retorted, his voice louder than your father's, "You wanna talk about us, that's your right. You wanna know about us, that's also your right. But to scream with her in order to get some manipulated answer, that's not happening, not on my watch".
You knew you were supposed to step up and say something. Maybe you should tell Aaron to leave, so you could talk privately to your father; maybe you should stand with Aaron and leave with him because, honestly, you were dreading this specific talk.
But having Aaron defending you?
You've decided to study law because you knew what it was not to have someone on your back. Of course, your father had defended you in some instances, but there were other moments he'd made it known he'd step out so you could solve things by yourself; it did help you build character (as he used to say), but you missed having someone patting your back at the end of the day, or helping with the fights you just didn't feel ready to fight.
Aaron was just that person.
You didn't know if it was because he was FBI or it was his lawyer side rubbing in again, but it didn't matter — Aaron was fighting for you. Fighting for what you had.
God, you really loved that man.
"Okay" your father humphed, both his hands on his waist as he looked directly at you, "Then plead your case. And I hope is a good plea, because I didn't pay for the best university is this country for you to give me some lame reasoning—".
"Shut up!".
Yeah, this time it was you. And you knew that if you didn't go on with that, you probably would get too afraid to continue, so... "I'm an adult, dad" you cringed at how lame your words sounded in front of what Aaron had just said, "I won't say there isn't an age gap..."
"Twenty years" your father pointed between gritted teeth.
"But I'm an adult!" you stomped your feet, holding Aaron's arm, "I'm 28, I'm a lawyer, and I..." you closed your eyes, biting your bottom lip before those three words escaped her lips, "I can make my own decisions, dad. I'm not asking for your permission, I'm asking acceptance".
Silence. Deafening silence.
"Can I talk to Aaron?" your father asked finally. You could read anger all over his face, the way his jaw was tense and his hands were closed in fists, but you could also see defeat in his eyes — the realization that it didn't matter what he did or said, you'd stick to what you had with Aaron.
And you were proud of yourself.
You looked up at Aaron, waiting to see if he wanted to have this talk with your father, even if you knew he was too much a gentleman to refuse something like that (you had your doubts he'd ask for permission if he ever decided to pop the question — but why the hell were you thinking about that?), which was quickly confirmed with his curt nod, "Okay" you whispered.
With a gentle smile towards Aaron, you made your way towards your dad, stopping your walk beside him before whispering, "I love him. Please, don't fuck with that".
He didn't answer, nor looked at you. Taking it as your leave, you walked back inside the house, closing the door behind you — but not quick enough not to hear Aaron's final words.
"I fucking love your daughter, man. Please, don't fuck it up".
Maybe you weren't that unlucky, after all.
Thank you for the request!
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tsukimefuku · 2 months
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Kindness and sunflowers
This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU". A sequence of short stories and random drabbles for a fic I'll eventually write (eventually). To see the ever-growing list of one-shots, please visit my masterlist :) 
Disclaimer: they’re NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this story fits in the timeline, please check the masterlist mentioned above.
Tags: f!reader, soft/implied Higuruma x reader, drinking, fluff, hurt, and comfort.
WC: 1.4k
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"Hey, I think he's not doing very well." You said to the other sorcerers, while you were all sitting at the bar. Higuruma had his face plastered on the counter, and one of his hands covered a beer mug. He was mumbling unintelligibly.
This was his first time out of Jujutsu High's headquarters ever since they detained him. After saving your ass when you were on a mission, Higuruma — a curse user that was being hunted by Jujutsu High — was granted mercy under some conditions. If he proved himself as a worthy jujutsu sorcerer in their service, his suspended execution would be extinguished. You asked Gojo, as a favor from your friend, to try saving the guy (after all, he saved you first). Gojo agreed, but warned you'd be responsible for accompanying him in this "parole" period. Deal, you answered, and here you all were a month later.
The guy was smart (and a smart mouth), even with his kind of nihilistic demeanor sometimes. Working with him was very different from working with Nanami the months prior. Higuruma was an absolute beast in the field, and took many more risks than your previous mission partner. On one occasion, you had to take the poisonous hit from a curse to protect him, simply because he made no effort to dodge. You knew full well you could recover using your own RCT, but man, it was a nasty recovery period. He apologized at the time for his irresponsibility, and his empty sardonic facade seemed to get a little chipped away since then. At least for you.
"He seems fine to me." Nanami sipped on his own drink nonchalantly, as he raised one eyebrow while looking at the man. His contempt was hidden under the perfect monotone he had to his voice — Nanami was still furious at Higuruma due to the poisoning debacle that left you bedridden for an entire week.
You looked at him, somewhat irritated.
"Really? Does he, Nanami?" You asked rhetorically, pointing dramatically to face-plastered-on-the-counter Higuruma.
He sighed, putting his drink glass back on the counter. "I apologize, that was uncalled-for." Nanami said. "Yes, he should be taken somewhere else to sober up and sleep properly."
"Hey, lawyer man." Shoko poked Higuruma's arm, and he barely moved. "Yeah, he's out."
"This is it, I'm getting him home." You sighed. "I mean, now he's allowed to go out the headquarters, he might go home, right?"
Gojo shrugged, laughing, as he took many pictures of passed out Higuruma on his phone from different angles. "I didn't ask. They just said he could leave headquarters."
"You didn't ask?" You said, stunned.
He put his phone away in his pocket, clearly amused. "Well, when this happened to one of my students, he wasn't bound to be in headquarters all the time. So I think it's safe to say the man is free to go, as long as he comes back."
You facepalmed. Getting money from your wallet, you gave your and Higuruma's part to Gojo, the only person sober in the whole entourage. "Here, this should cover for us. I'm calling a cab."
He smiled as he said good luck.
***
After fumbling through Higuruma's wallet and questioning him relentlessly, piecing together everything the drunk man could tell, you finally got to drag him to his apartment, where he used to live when he was still a lawyer. There was just one thing you hadn't accounted for — neither of you had the key. You were cursing yourself and him under your breath as you conjured up a tiny grenade with your innate technique, just strong enough to bust open his door without causing collateral damage. He was leaning against the wall, sitting on the ground, and seemed to be snoring. May the neighbors not hear this. It was late enough to be almost early.
The controlled explosion was loud enough to startle him awake, but didn't seem to attract any attention from the other apartments. You threw Higuruma's arm over your shoulders and lifted him up, while you opened the door and carried him inside. Miraculously, when you flipped the lights on, it actually worked. You put him on the couch as you used one of the chairs around the place to hold the door closed.
"You're kind, did you know that?" Higuruma said, while he was a tad bit more sober now than when you both left the bar. He threw himself over the couch, extending his arms on the cushions and leaning his head back to look at the ceiling. "The world is not a great place for kind people."
"You don't say." You replied, smiling, while you looked around the apartment. Somehow, it was exactly what you expected his place to look like. A little messy, with lots of books lying around the house, and even if the place had no big decor or anything like that, it still felt warm. You saw a sunflower withered by the window, and you noticed he looked at it at the same time, grunting in complaint.
Higuruma leaned forward to remove his shoes, but was having a hard time pulling his shoestrings. You sighed as you said, "here, let me help you." You got on your knees and undid both of his shoes, taking them off. 
Higuruma took you by surprise, as he directed his hands to hold your face delicately and lift your gaze. He looked at you, your faces inches apart, as you could still smell the beer from him. His eyes were soft, something you hadn't seen yet. You felt your heart skip a beat as he was holding you like that. "Thank you."
You gulped and blinked a few times, as you removed his hands from your face and got up. "It's just shoes." You turned to walk away into the kitchen and see if you could grab him a glass of water, but he held your hand, still seated on the couch, looking down.
"No. I mean... Thank you." Higuruma said softly. "Thank you for defending me." He sighed deeply. "It's usually the other way around."
"Oh." You turned to look at him. A soft smile took over your face. "You saved me that day. I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't at least try to return the favor."
He pulled you and had you landing beside him on the sofa. It startled you, as you felt your face warm and blushing. He was still holding your hand, making circles with his thumb over your hand's back, and spoke, nearly whispering, "You're too kind." He closed his eyes, and for your surprise, he leaned over and rested his face on your shoulder in a cat-like demeanor. Your body quivered as you felt his slow breath pressed against your skin, and you both stayed completely still for a while.
"Higuruma?" You asked, hearing in response a soft snore. Oh, he's out. Sliding him very carefully out of your shoulder and onto the couch, you got up. Time to go.
After taking a last look at the withered sunflower that was beside his window you sighed, looking at your wristwatch and feeling you could still wait a few hours. There was something you to do first.
***
Higuruma's head made him a thousand promises of regret as he tried to remember how exactly he got home. The sun was high outside, and it was probably noon already. After getting completely hammered at the bar, he had only a few flashbacks. Getting poked, an insistent camera flash on his face, everyone's voices, his sunflower dead by the window.
You.
He sat up on the couch hastily, feeling instantly dizzy as he put his hands on his head. "Where is she?" He looked around, and the apartment seemed empty. I hope I didn't make a complete fool out of myself yesterday, Higuruma thought to himself, as he got up, careful not to get the drunken vertigo.
Higuruma remembered the sunflower again, and grunted, displeased. He had bought it in an attempt to decorate his apartment, at least a little, and make it feel more like a home. The former lawyer found the idea of him taking care of a sunflower kind of funny and surely ironic. After everything that had happened, he was away from his apartment for nearly two months by this point. "Good thing I never had any food in here." He said to himself, walking towards the window.
He stopped as he saw a brand-new sunflower in a vase, right where the other one previously was. Higuruma smiled, amused with himself, and traced his messy hair with his fingers, wondering how he would thank you for that.
"Yeah. Too kind."
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doctorsiren · 4 months
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ok but like!!! i was just thinking about how with my last ask that nick would probably be a lot closer with Apollo than feenie because Apollo’s already having A Time with “my childhood idol is two childhood idols and they both just lied to me and even though it was to avoid getting convicted for a murder they didn’t do they still had me commit perjury”
but whereas feenie feels really terrible about it and is kinda avoiding apollo, nick kinda has to get over it and keep working with apollo and apollo prefers nick because he’s not trying to apologize or be all smiley about it or pretend it was ok either, he’s just moving onto the next thing work-wise, and that’s the kind of reliability and stability that apollo needs at the moment. apollo’s sick as hell of kristoph’s fakey smiles and the ways he’s realized that kristoph is all lies, and he just wants to get some fucking cases done. and nick is all for that, even though he also feels bad, this way they don’t have to talk about it.
basically imo if trucy is more of feenie’s favorite and feenie is more trucy’s favorite then apollo is nick’s favorite and vice versa :)
just like,,, nick giving apollo compliments and apollo actually taking them and taking them well. feenie’s jealous because “how come you get to spend all the time with our adoptive son who doesn’t really actually know he’s our adoptive son” and nick going “we are literally doing lawyering besides it’s not like he’s going to bake a pie with you like trucy does and if you’re too forward you might make him suspect that trucy’s his sibling and we can’t have that secret getting out”
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GRAHHH ANOTHER MEAL THANK YOU yes yes yes yes yes
Okay so like
Nick’s like “Finally! Someone as cagey as me!”
But in the end, Apollo still ends up being a pawn of sorts as Feenie and Nick fight over him, so he’s still being thrown around essentially
There’s supposed to be a sunflower in Feenie’s hair but I need to learn how to draw them better so I just didn’t on this one
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sunflawyer · 5 months
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the sunflower and the lawyer... ⚖️🌻...
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jamneuromain · 5 months
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I have an idea omg. We need more of Lloyd and reader... What about a situation when Lloyd got injured, like he kicked someone's ass , got his knuckles bleeding, or maybe he got a cut or smth... and the reader though she's aware of her blood-seeing problem ofc decided to help him, trying to fight her hemophobia best she could because Lloyd needed her help. Or it can be quite the opposite, the reader got hurt in some way, bleeding a bit, and Lloyd decided to help her because he knows her reaction to seeing blood and all. What do you think?😬☺
Hi Elena😌❤️ (sorry that it took so long I accidentally deleted my draft ... and took very long to recover from the devastating fact :l
Your "Lloyd got hurt" idea certainly is very interesting....👀
So, what would happen if Lloyd got hurt and he has no one else to turn to but his secretary with hemophobia...🤔
Bleed Out
Lloyd Hansen x You
Warning: Mob AU, Mob!Lloyd, Secretary!Reader (Driver!Denny Carmicheal), Graphic Depiction of Blood and Violence (I guess Lloyd is a warning of his own?), Reader has hemophobia (fear of blood), a lot of cursing.
Summary: Lloyd is under your protection for now.
A/N: This is the sequel to A Whiff of Blood, Thank you for all your love to Mob!Lloyd<333
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One thing, one particular feature you like about the apartment you're living in, is that this little condo - along with the rest of the building and five other blocks in the vicinity, belongs to a high-end resident community that has strict security guard patrol schedules and limited key-card access. These precautions resulted in rocket-high market prices and a rather wealthy neighborhood, as the owner of these buildings forbids renting, for every keycard that could access the front gate, elevators, and their matching apartments, accompanied by facial recognition embedded in the little chip. When you get home every night (or afternoon, if you are lucky), you have to press your keycard and stand before the camera before the gate grants you inside. This brings quite some comfort for you, working for a mob boss named Lloyd Hansen, and knowing that his associates are basically "wanted" by rival gangs for the valuable information they possess.
While it is impossible that you could afford such an exquisite apartment with your salary, though very well-paid, you are truly grateful because Lloyd signed this condo - his condo - to you without a word (or asking a dime from you) when you told him during your final interview that you will be needing a week to relocate before starting the job.
That's when you made up your mind that Lloyd Hansen is a boss worthy to work for.
It's not a big place. Having two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen. Decorated in white, black, and grey, clearly matching Lloyd's taste when he asked his lawyer to give you the key card and have you move in.
You've lived here for three years now. Adding soft cushions and light-colored sets to the tedious design here and there. Like the sunflower tablecloth and daisy plates and bowls. Like the pink polka dot sheets and duvet covers. And the fluffy slippers, taken out from the cabinets, ready to be put on as soon as fuzzy socks don't work their magic any more.
You are finishing washing the mug you just used. After putting it on the racks, you wipe your hands with a clean cloth. It is a workday tomorrow, and you intend to sleep early to wake up with a fresh spirit to deal with your (sometimes) moody boss. Treating yourself to a nice little read in the bedside lamp radiating yellow glow - another decoration that you feel much needed for this place, you reach out to turn off the lamp when there's a sudden rush of knock on your door.
You zip your mouth shut.
The news two weeks ago, about a woman who was curious about the baby crying at her door, was yanked out of her apartment as soon as she opened the door, being raped and killed in her own bed.
You are smart enough not to ask "Who is it", letting this unexpected guest learn that a young female is at home.
When the unexpected visitor doesn't hear your reply, they knock on the door more fiercely, nearly knocking your heart out of your throat.
You remember the tutorial online: Approach the door with caution, and check the surveillance camera. If there's no one in sight, call the cops. If there's anything out of the ordinary, like a baby or a kitten by the door, call the cops.
In summary, call the cops.
Your fingers hover above your phone, having the police number on speed dial, when you turn on the surveillance camera monitor by the door.
A very bruised, cut, and tired Lloyd, having a gun in his hand, banging on your door as he winces in pain.
"Goodness gracious-" Your gasp gets stuck in your throat. Opening the door in an instant, there's nothing else in your mind than keeping him alive. Your goosebumps on high alert as Lloyd's eyes scan over you. You pull him in, checking that the hallway is secure, before closing the heavy door as quietly as possible.
You turn to him, "Mr. Han-" Your words stop mid-sentence as you feel the need to fight the bile down your throat.
Yes. Mr. Hansen is very much covered in the one thing you hate most in the world.
Blood.
Blood splattered on his chest, his ridiculous choice of the blue-white striped polo shirt and cuts littered over his face and bare arms. His pants are dripping. Some crimson-colored liquid will stick permanently onto your floor and your beloved carpet.
Redness, some stained into near-brown, all over his figure.
You hold your breath, not letting the iron taste linger to make matters worse.
Lloyd walks, more like limps to each of your rooms - now that you can breathe a little while the blood smell is gone temporarily, and convince yourself that it's just ketchup on your boss (though you doubt that trick works) - and inspects each of them with his finger on the gun's trigger.
Taking in the whole situation, three things pop into your mind.
Lloyd is in desperate need of medical attention.
You are most likely to faint as soon as he returns, seeing this amount of blood.
Lloyd wouldn't knock on your door if this isn't desperate for him as well.
As Lloyd approaches, you are wrecking every brain cell to work a way out of this.
" 'S anyone here?" He asks, pulling the safe of his gun back on, before plopping down on your couch and groaning because he most definitely pulls one or two, if not a few of his wounds.
However, one of THE most brilliant ideas comes to you when you are holding your breath.
You shake your head, raising one finger to tell him you need a moment - or you hope that your running off conveys the message, and dash towards your bathroom.
Lloyd sags down on the couch, not even bothering to get up or turn his head to watch whether you've pulled out a gun pointing at him. You probably wouldn't do so, since you chose to pull him in, instead of letting him bleed out by your door.
When you appear in front of him again, his body briefly stuns a moment, before emerging in a burst of full-blown laughter. He laughs so hard that his laughter turns into coughs, which leads to him pressing his hand over his chest in case he tears his wounds further.
You place your hands on your hips. Compared to him, you are least amused by your idea.
You smoothed your hair back and put on your scuba diving goggles from a paid leave last year. Lloyd personally oversaw your two-week vacation, paying from your hotel suite to your travel expenses, and even ordering you full scuba diving equipment for your one-hour scuba lesson.
Of course, you weren't actually interested in becoming an expert, but the scuba equipment was too nice to be thrown away.
"Not funny." You breathe through your mouth. Even though the orange plastic - or glass, you don't quite know which - changes how the bloody Lloyd looks in your eyes, it still doesn't completely change the idea that Lloyd is, in fact, covered in blood, as much as you don't want to think about it. And it definitely doesn't block the smell of blood, which probes the nerves at the back of your nose whenever you breathe through your mouth.
Lloyd scans your "outfit", his laughter slowly dials down, eventually turns into a lazy smile ghosting his lips, "You're right. It's not."
It's over 10:30 pm, and you usually would have been sleeping, or lying on your bed, at least. But no, you are stuck in the living room with your boss who's about to die any minute, and you are only able to stand in front of him, alive and thinking, with a fucking scuba mask on.
So, fuck this.
You roll your eyes at your cold-blooded boss. "Should I call your doctor? Or send you to the hospital?"
The smirk disappears.
Although he didn't say "no" to the hospital, by now you've realized the hospital choice was crossed off the board, as he chose you instead of ringing the police - which will no doubt lead to an investigation since Lloyd is the most notorious mob in Los Angles.
You search for the first aid bag that you stocked away when you moved in. It has rarely been used.
"Doc's dead." He murmurs, but loud enough for you to understand. He spoke with a sadness that only appears when he has lost one of his people. "I took Jared to his clinic."
You know Jared, he is one of the muscles working for Lloyd. He helped take care of one of Lloyd's rivals, Brewer.
"The deal with the Russian mobs tonight went wrong, but we got out in one piece." Lloyd explains curtly, "I got him to Doc's place to get stitched up. But we were attacked... Doc died, so did Jared."
So... two of his people.
Medical alcohol and Q-tips were picked from the bag, then a roll of gauze. You place those on the coffee table.
"I think you need something bigger than a Q-tip." He chuckles, unbuckling his belt, removing his pants. You open your mouth wanting to argue it's probably best that he doesn't move right now, but you silence yourself when you see a flesh wound -
Blood trickles down his thigh, leaving a scorched round hole on his leg. You turn your head to the other side as soon you feel the need to hurl. Even with your goggles on, deep down, you know that it's blood, not ketchup, nor some red paint oozing from his body.
“Don’t puke on my shoes. Crocodiles died for it.” A strangled grunt comes out of his mouth when he finished speaking, having your heart tug in the slightest of agony.
The belt he took off just now is turned into an instant tourniquet on his thigh. The blood drips slower than it did, but it keeps ruining your carpet.
“Yeah, I bet the crocodile spirits hate you right now.” You mutter under your breath, snatching a face mask from the first-aid kit, taking a small inhale after you put it over your face.
Much, much better now.
Lloyd snorts out a short laugh, “You look like one of those bird-man in the Middle Ages when they are battling the plague.”
“Yeah well,” You place your hand on your hips, feeling somewhat braver to deal with this bloody mess all over your living room, “You’re about to bleed out on my couch, so let’s start with you telling me what else I can help with.”
Lloyd spares a glance at you when he’s busy rolling the gauze and pressing it onto his gunshot wound, his expression uninterpretable. Though you would guess that he is mildly impressed.
“Got any liquor? Something strong?” He raises his brows almost challengingly, “I don’t see any painkillers here, so … Bourbon? Whiskey? Scotch? Anything?”
You do have a bottle of whiskey that your cousin gave to you when you moved in. He’d come to visit and lend a helping hand from time to time. You take two glasses from the cupboard and half a bottle of whiskey.
You could use some liquid courage with a murder scene and your psycho boss in the middle of this lovely condo.
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With the aid of whiskey and your patching and cleaning of the rest of the wounds, Lloyd is able to sleep through the night soundly without worrying about being a rigid corpse in the morning.
Yawning, and accidentally stretching his patched-up wounds, he allows a string of curses to flow out of his lips. Judging by the sunlight peeking through your curtains, he’d say it’s 9 or 10 in the morning. Last night, he was tired when the adrenaline gradually faded away, and he did not have the chance to take a close look at your – used to be his – place.
You did not put this place through any major changes, just some minor traces, reminding him that he is, in a sense, invading this cozy little apartment with his banged-up body.
With a decent set of fresh suit, shirt, and tie on the chair beside the bed.
Faint murmurs come from the other side of the door, Lloyd tenses up immediately, pulling his gun under the pillow, where he stocked last night, and turns the doorknob slowly.
“… shut up.” He hears you smack someone’s arm jokingly.
Your voice blends in with the voice in his memory of last night, when he winced in pain as you tried to take out glass shards from his forehead with a pair of tweezers, when he swung another gulp of whiskey from the bottle.
“Fucking hell, woman, I swear you’re trying to scoop my brains out rather than finding the glass pieces.” He grumbled.
“You’re lucky I didn’t kick you out, Mr. Hansen. Now I’m kindly asking you to shut up so I can take care of your wounds before it could get any worse.” You said impatiently, having struggled between the discomfort in your stomach and your determination to get him patched up, but adjusted your attitude soon after, keeping your mouth shut and pushing his upper body so he would lean on the couch and be still, while you turned on the flashlight to search the little glass piece on his forehead.
The warm and shallow breath fell on the ridge of his nose. It was broken, sure, tingling and itching, but it also meant that you were close, close enough to kiss-
“Cuz, are you sure that-”
The male voice is cut off when Lloyd in a black suit appears in front of you and a young man. One of his hands behind his back, you know far too well he’s holding the gun and will shoot your cousin’s brain out if you don’t explain quickly.
“Morning Mr. Hansen. This is my cousin, Connor Ashborne, studying at UCLA Med School.” You smile politely towards your boss, “I called for him to check up on you, since you refused to go to any doctor with a gunshot wound. He’s here to provide professional medical assistance.”
“Mr. Hansen,” the young man extends his hand for Lloyd to shake, “I’ve heard of a lot of things about you.”
“Lots of bad things, I hope.” Lloyd throws in a comment half-sarcastically, plopping himself down on the couch, ignoring your cousin’s extending hand, “Shit.” When he stretches his wounds again, the gauze must have clotted with his flesh for this level of pain.
“Cuz?” Conner turns his choice to your hand, “It’s your call. I can’t force your boss to do anything.”
“Yeah, me neither.” You mutter, “He’s more stubborn than a bull with eyes on the red flag.”
“Careful there, sunshine.” Lloyd gulps down some whiskey, numbing the pain in his thigh, “I can hear ya’ loud and clear.”
You silently shrugged towards your cousin, letting him know that you could not be of help any more than he did. “You should probably head to your classes.” You speak softly towards Connor, “Say hi to your sister for me, will you?”
“Sure thing, cuz. Remember those antibiotics and pain meds for the... patient in the kit.” He pulls you into a hug, “No need to thank me, I know, I'm one of a kind.”
Yeah, he's a one-of-a-kind dick when he wants to be. You can't help but smile knowing that his ego bloated after coming to your aid.
“I’ll see you around Christmas, yeah?”He asks.
“Around Christmas.” You confirm, patting his back.
Connor shoots you a wink and a “Bye, cuz”, grabbing the bicycle helmet on the kitchen counter and rushing out of your apartment like a gust of wind.
"A-hem." Lloyd clears his throat.
You let out a long exhale, realizing the big problem-o is still sitting on the couch like he owns this place – he indeed still does, as you have helped combing through his real estate. He owns the whole residential community – more specifically, has a lot of shares in the company which runs this residence, at the very least. Putting your best, and most professional courtesy on, you ask Lloyd, “I’ve called Denny earlier this morning. He’s now driving around the block. Denny has driven to your place and picked up the usual breakfast from your cook. Should I call him and tell him to come up? Or you’d like to head to the office right now?”
“Tell him to come up. I’ve been shot. It seems fair to skip work this morning.” Lloyd has the usual smug smile on his face. Stepping into his crocodile shoes onto the floor, spreading his arms over the couch, he looks down at the ground before narrowing his eyes and raising a sharp question: “You’ve had the carpet thrown out?”
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Of course, you’ve had the carpet thrown out. Or you would throw up five times per hour.
You thought so when carrying the blood-soaked carpet downstairs, after making sure Lloyd was asleep around midnight. As his secretary, it is your job to make sure he doesn’t have to worry about anything besides his business.
You carried the carpet downstairs, avoiding cameras as carefully as possible, with your ridiculous scuba goggles and face mask on, and dumped the carpet, into another residence trash can two blocks further. With his blood and his scent on it, it is easy to lure those henchmen away if they bring hounds to search for Lloyd.
Lloyd does not go down without a fight, that you were certain. You were also certain of the fact that the transaction gone wrong would make relative parties involved less than happy, hence the ambush at Doc’s place. If they struck once, it seemed possible that they would strike again, knowing that Lloyd was hurt.
Also packing hydrogen peroxide, a powerful bleach, and a pack of Q-tips with you, you carefully erased the traces of Lloyd’s blood from the street to your residence building, and inside the elevator.
“Miss Y/L/N!” The security guard exclaimed on seeing you back inside the building. He was smart enough not to comment on you pulling your scuba goggles and face mask off, but smiled warmly, “A rough night?”
You smile back, “Hi Henry. I hate to pull ranks on you, Henry, I really do. But in less than ten minutes you are going to get a call from your boss, who has gotten a call from his boss, asking you to do exactly what I tell you to, which is to make a copy of the surveillance footage of the security cameras, and delete the original copy stored in the computers stored somewhere in this building. You are also going to tell me whether anyone has dropped by when your shift ends this morning, who looks suspicious, asking questions even though they don’t live here.”
The smile froze on Henry’s face, “Miss Y/L/N, it’s against the company orders…”
Just then, the phone on Henry’s desk rang, which Henry took the minute it made a sound.
The smile turned to a serious frown.
“…Yes. Yes, Sir. I’ll see to it.” He hung up the phone after a polite “Good night”, straightening his security guard uniform, and moved around the desk, “This way, Ma’am.”
After burying your head in the toilet bowl and throwing up almost half an hour ago, you had used your cell phone and called Lloyd's business partner up ahead, told him that Lloyd had issued a command to erase surveillance camera footage of a specific building and asked to keep a copy.
His business partner, hauled up from his bed because of this phone call in the middle of the night, knew better than to refuse.
… and that was why the Russian mob drove through the block later that morning at 1 a.m. and did not find a trace of Lloyd taking shelter in your condo after circling the area for quite some time.
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Taglist (Also tagging those who might be interested): @stargazingfangirl18 @sarahdonald87 @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @magnificentsaladllama @biteofcherry @petalj @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @thezombieprostitute @yiiiikesmish @warriorblu @vonalyn @notathingjustthere @lokislady82 @irishhappiness @toozmanykids @alicedopey @cakesandtom @universitypenguin @openup-yourmind @helenaeisenhower @wilsons-striped-ties @tittittoee @bean-is-reading
Find A Whiff of Blood Masterlist here 👈
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butcherlarry · 5 months
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Weekly Fic Rec 44
As promised, an extra long fic rec list for this week! Mostly Superbat with some sprinkling of Batfam, Superwonderbat, and Wonderbat. Enjoy :)
ABO Bunny/Clark and Wolf/Bruce series - Superbat, complete. There are 33 works in this series! 33! It was such a delight to read too!
Mister Kent by Taxi_Cab_To_Slowtown - Superbat, complete. Battinson flavored Superbat, my beloved.
Cold Snap by iselsis - Batfam, complete. Batman finds a young Tim and Jason (who is also a wolf shifter) out in the cold. Adoption ensues.
Jason and Damian escape the League series - Batfam, wip. Exactly what it says on the tin, Jason steals baby Damian and finds his way back to Bruce :)
To Care For A Kryptonian by TheCourtSorcerer - Superbat, complete. Clark gets sick from an alien flu :( Luckily, Bruce is there to take care of him :)
weighing him down by TheCourtSorcerer - Superbat, complete. A tough case gets to Bruce. Clark helps.
Careless by TheCourtSorcerer - Superbat, complete. Batman and Superman are caught making out in the Watchtower conference room :)))))))
Flatline by dragonpyre - Batfam, wip. Jason is captured and give a paralytic that makes his heart beat almost undetectable. The batfam finds him and much angst ensue.
one brick short by pomeloquat - Superbat, complete. Lego Batman is given a womb tattoo by a magic user. Lego Superman helps him get rid of it. Lego sex (???????) ensues.
Patroclus by widow_account - Superbat, wip. An update to the fic where Clark is kidnapped and forced to fight on Warworld. Bruce has finally found him, and they are reunited. But, a wrench is thrown in the rescue plan :(((((((
Sunflower by Firecat23 - Superbat, complete. Bruce keeps finding sunflowers at his desk. I wonder who could be giving them to him? :)))))
So Get Your Eyes Off My Pride by second_hand_heaven - Superwonderbat, complete. Bruce needs to keep up his playboy image, so he goes clubbing with Clark and Diana. Sexy shenanigans ensue.
from the inside of the wounds by shipyrds - Superbat, complete. A magic user cursed Bruce and Clark to feel each other's pain. Revelations are made.
a battle of wills by coyote_nebula- Batfam, complete. Bruce keeps getting emails from his lawyer about his will. Annoyed and in pain from past injuries, he sends a snarky email with the will to them. UNFORTUNATELY, the email is sent to his family instead. Shenanigans ensue.
The Lone Ranger Never Had to Deal with Bruce Wayne by theskeptileptic - Batfam, complete. Tim tries to fake his death by getting lost in the woods on a camping trip. Unfortunately, his nosey neighbor Bruce Wayne finds out Tim is going camping, and insists that he and his sons go camping with him. Shenanigans ensue.
(Love) Triangles Have Multiple Centers by frozenpotions - Superbat, wip. Drama increases in this identity porn fic!!!! Lois also went on a date with Bruce!! But it didn't go as well as Clark's one night stand with him!!! It is important that no one in the office finds out about this or he will never hear the end of it. Clark also meets Robin!
No Cops at Pride (Only Batman) by emmacortana - Superbat and Batfam, complete. Bruce thinks Dick is trying to come out to him. Dick tells Bruce something else instead. Shenanigans ensue.
Her August Presence by ThatDamnKennedyKid - Superbat, complete. Fem!Battinson meets Clark Kent. She's shy, but not in the bedroom, if you know what I mean ;)
I'm gonna steal (save) your from him by Karmawillcollect - Wonderbat, complete. Fem!Bruce steals Diana away from her terrible boyfriend.
Patchwork Pod by Ktkat9 - Superbat, wip. More of the mer Bruce fic! Clark FINALLY asks the question! Everyone is happy! But some sudden revelations happen!!
Happy reading!
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Text
Higuruma Thoughts pt 1
Calling Higuruma Higgy or Higs.
He hates it. But you do it anyway because his look of ire is worth it.
"Why not Hiro?" he'll ask.
"I already call you Hiro. It's cute but it's a starter couple nickname. Higgy lets people know we've been together for a long time."
"Because nicknames are supposed to become more ridiculous the longer we're together?"
"Exactly!"
"Very well then, Mrs. Higgy."
"Wait. WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!"
He smirks and walks away chortling at the look on your face.
Higurma Masterlist
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songsofadelaide · 4 months
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Waltz of Four Left Feet
cw/tw: no curses/law school AU set in the 2020s, slice of life, unmotivated lawyer/law professor!higuruma x ??? female reader, established relationship, smoker higuruma headcanon, yuuji as higuruma's favourite student/law apprentice, yuuji spitting facts and meddles with the best of intentions, flashbacks of a meet-cute-ugly, inaccurate depictions of law school life, fluff, did I say slice of life already? (lol) + another marriage proposal. wc: 1.1k
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"You do know that with your current knowledge and experience in the field, you're on the right track to becoming a great judge. Think about it, will you? Brilliant ones like you don't come around too often."
Hearing superiors, colleagues, students, and strangers alike sing his praises did not stroke his ego at all. More than anything, Higuruma felt a dense weight on his shoulders. Apart from being a lawyer himself, he was an educator, and he felt equally responsible for ensuring his students have the right knowledge at hand when they become lawyers themselves in the future.
And he was fine with that. Becoming a prosecutor? A judge? Those were far too ambitious for him to consider, let alone even think of. Until…
"That's not a bad idea, Higuruma-san. If you become a judge, you'll have more than enough to marry your girlfriend and provide for your family."
Well. That's another way to look at things.
Higuruma was taking a short smoke break in between his classes when one of his favourite students approached him with a chilled canned coffee in hand.
"Are you done with your readings, Itadori-kun?"
Educators shouldn't favour one student over another because it clouds their judgement, yet it was hard not to be drawn to Itadori Yuuji's enthusiasm for the law profession. The young man had enough promise and ambition for them both, and Higuruma made it his personal mission to mould the boy into a lawyer who would be praised just as much as him.
"And you've been with her for how many years now?" The younger man continued as he counted with his fingers, ignoring his mentor's question. "You really should be stepping up and proposing to her or something."
Higuruma breathed his cigarette deep and let out a drawn out exhale that seemed more like a sigh of frustration. "You really think I don't know that yet, kid?"
He first met you in a local coffee shop some years back after you both accidentally spilled your coffees on each other. Instead of being pissed at him, you laughed off the incident as a simple case of bad luck, something you obviously both shared on that day since it wasn't just you drenched in an Americano. He was equally soaking in your favourite latte.
And like a sunflower drawn to the warmth of daylight, he was easily charmed by your bright optimism— very much so that he didn't think twice when you asked him for his contact details (to pay him for his suit's dry cleaning).
Your second meeting at the same cafe wasn't so bad if not for the barista switching your drinks. You laughed it off as you drank your latte with his name on it, somehow tasting sweeter than the usual.
They got it right the third time. You guys were regulars by the fourth.
Higuruma once made the mistake of taking some of his law firm's apprentices to the very cafe you frequented and none of them were able to figure out why he froze at the entrance and urged everyone to find someplace else to have coffee.
Everyone except Yuuji, who followed his mentor's gaze and found a woman smiling at him from across the cafe. His attention to detail was both a boon and bane for him, and a stroke of bad luck for his professor, who unknowingly revealed his most well-kept secret. You could only laugh and shake your head as your boyfriend trailed behind his students, obviously trying his best to stay composed.
When Yuuji found you in the cafe the following day, he bought you a fruit tart. "You must be Higuruma-san's mysterious girlfriend."
"Can you keep it a secret for us both, Yuuji-kun?"
You became fast friends with the boy, too, much to Higuruma's embarrassment and enjoyment. You found it a pleasure to quiz the men with their subject cards even though you knew nothing about law while they weighed in on your own work matters.
"Higuruma-san, you aren't like those people who are married to their profession, are you?"
"Of course not. Now get back to your readings."
His dismissal of talks about marriage was off-putting, but Yuuji knew that Higuruma was just stalling for time. For whatever reason, he'll probably never know.
Higuruma stubbed out his cigarette and threw the butt in the nearby receptacle.
"You have a pretty cushy salary, if you ask me. But if you aren't going to obtain a judgeship like the other professors suggested, what else is stopping you from getting married?"
Oh, right. Yuuji was still there.
"Those readings aren't going to do themselves."
Something did stop him, in fact. It was the fact that you two never really spoke about it. Marriage.
Your relationship was like an ongoing dream for him. One he hadn't woken up from yet because of how airy it made him feel. Just like how a sunflower curled in the direction of the sun, so too did he whenever you were asleep in bed together, curling into your warmth as though he wanted to keep it for his own.
And when he told you over dinner about the judgeship offer from earlier in the day, you replied to him with the same optimism that drew him to you from the start.
"Hiromi, you know I'll always have your back in whatever it is you decide to do. If you wanna go for that judgeship, I say go for it! But you don't have to force yourself, either," you reassured him with a warm smile, one that pulled a similar grin to his own tired face. "Though I suppose some extra shopping money wouldn't be so bad."
"What about m…" He started, only for his voice to fail him. His favourite student would probably be berating him for being so nervous over nothing. Over everything.
"What?"
"Marry me."
Your cutlery goes quiet against your plate, a twinkle in your eyes he mistook for something else. He was planning his escape route now. Your upfront refusal was kindness enough, he thought to himself. But was he really going to stick around and listen to you enumerate the reasons why you wouldn't—
"Of course I will, Hiromi."
"Huh?"
"Oh, my silly little doomer. Did you really think I'd refuse to marry you?" You chuckled at him from across the dinner table. "After that question, expect to be stuck with me for good."
Higuruma laughed, the rumble coming deep from his core. As if there was anything else he'd want more than that. You were all the optimism he needed in his life. "I suppose you're stuck with me then, too."
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saytrrose · 1 month
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Rose’s Mafia AU
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Rose (Rose) - The Boss. They run the entire gang and everyone answers to them. Has a final say in all decisions.
@a-fucking-nerd (Sunflower) - The Advisor/Right Hand Man. Their purpose is to act as a step in for the boss when needed, and grant any advice when wished for.
@gummy-axolotl Gummy (Cosmo) - The Thief. Their purpose is to steal items and sell them for illegal auctions.
@oogaboogaspookyman (Orchid) - The Dirty Cop. The man on the inside helping sabotage evidence and keep everyone out of jail.
@laurenashleysparks (Daisy) - The Doctor. Their purpose is quite simple. They patch up the gunshot wounds from fights and tend to the wellbeing of the group.
@sweetlittletangerine (Dahlia) - The Double Agent/Spy. They serve to help gather information on other gangs and targets.
@starryyskies (Aster) - The Sniper/Assassin. They act as the gang’s assassin taking out people of interest from afar.
@bunny-j3st3r (Hyacinth) - The Bodyguard. They stick close to the Boss at all times and protect them.
@frost-can-bite (Crocus) - The Weapons Expert. Their job ranges anything from making weapons to bomb diffusing. Anything that has to do with something going boom, this is your guy.
@sm-babie (Lotus) - The Business Man/Lawyer. They keep the clubs and real estate the mob owns in order and also works to keep the gang out of jail.
@butchwaifu (Oleander) - The Money launder. Their job is to make sure all money from the gang seems 100% legal.
@superchillingman (Borage) - The Scientist. They are important for finding people using technology such as fingerprints and DNA.
@helljuice (Gladiolus) - The Messenger/Ambassador. They are the one who delivers messages around the city to other mobs, representing the gang.
@torchiiko (Magnolia) - The House Keeper. They keep the base clean and tidy, also working as the personal chef. In offering their services for the mob, they receive secure protection.
@cconcerned (Zinnia) - Bartender/Bouncer. They work up in the actual nightclub, and are in charge of the entrance to the underground base. They are in charge of the codes used to identify who is allowed and not allowed downstairs.
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elisysd · 10 months
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There it goes - Maisie Peters
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Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter
Sunflowers in the kitchen, a heartbreak in remission The univers is shifting and it's all for me
Lyanna was only half-surprised to learn from her lawyer that James had dropped the charges, so it was with a lighter heart that she returned to Monaco a few days later with a huge suitcase, which Joris did not fail to point out to her when he picked her up at the airport.
“What did you put in that suitcase to make it weigh so much?” the young man groaned as he lifted the suitcase into the trunk of the car.
“The essentials” she replied as a matter of fact.
“Yeah? Well you and me don’t have the same definition of what essential means.”
“So.. how is Charles?”
“Didn’t you have him on the phone?”
She gestured that she didn't as they got into the car and Joris started the engine.
“Wait, aren’t you supposed to be that kind of couple who is glued to the other and can’t stand to be away from one another for more than five minutes.”
“That’s Charles, not me. But I was busy and he needed to rest. I think it did some good for us to be away from each other.”
“He's insufferable. Pretty much an ass with everyone. He doesn’t want any help from anyone. He says that he doesn’t want to be a burden. His mother is starting to go crazy. I’m avoiding his flat as much as I can since he is always in a bad mood. But the good thing is that he can stand on his own. He apparently looks like a toddler walking for the first time so his mom has to watch him carefully, but there is progress.”
“On a scale of one to ten, how much should I expect him to be a pain in the ass with me?”
“Twelve. He is kind of mean with everyone so brace yourself.”
And indeed, Lyanna had not expected to receive such a poor welcome when she entered the flat. Pascale looked exhausted and Lyanna heard the sigh of relief she breathed as she opened the front door. She had only been away for three days, but it felt like much longer. The curtains were drawn, leaving only a trickle of light filtering through and plunging the flat into an eerie darkness. And it was the middle of the afternoon.
“He's decided to play bear since you left. He doesn't want to see anyone, he hardly leaves his room except when he has to go to hospital to check that his recovery is going well, which thank God it is, the doctors are optimistic that he'll be back on his feet in a few weeks and able to practise again.” Explained Pascale when Lyanna asked her to update her quickly on Charles’ state.
“Is he in his room?”
“Piano room actually. He tries to play but you can guess that with one hand it’s not ideal. Which makes him in an even worst mood.”
“I'll take it from here, Pascale, so you can go home. Thank you for everything.”
“Thank you. I love my son but I need to get away from him.”
As Pascale was leaving, Lyanna heard music coming from Charles's piano. She had the impression that he was pounding the keys rather than playing softly, which worried her. He was really in a bad mood. She knocked on the door but got no answer. She persisted and a muffled but angry voice came from the other side of the door.
“I said I wanted to be alone.”
“Even if you know that I’m here?”
There was no sound from the other side of the door. Lyanna waited a few moments and the door opened. When she pushed it open fully, Charles was sitting at the piano again, his back to her.
“Hey, baby. How are you feeling?” she asked unsure of what to do or say.
He seemed distant, in a way that put her off her feet. He sighed as he got up and sat down on the recliner, swallowing a painkiller as he went.
“I should be the one asking you that.” He replied with a bitter tone.
“Well, I’m not the one who was involved in a car crash a few days ago.”
“Don’t you have something to say to me?”
She sat down opposite him. Charles looked at her with a hardness in his eyes that she did not know. At least it was a look that had never been directed at her before.
“I missed you. It was three busy days but everything has been sorted and I’m all yours.”
“Did James was the reason you were busy?”
She looked at him, wide-eyed. She had planned to talk to him about it, of course. Especially now that everything was settled. She was at peace with herself and could present the situation with the certainty that no nasty surprises were in store for them. Part of her was even looking forward to telling him how she'd cornered James and she hoped Charles would be proud of her. Not that she was looking for his approval.
“Yeah. I’m aware. I found pictures online of you in that restaurant with him grabbing you and you looking afraid. Do you know how helpless I felt and how stupid it made me feel that I was not aware that my girlfriend, the woman I love, the one I shared my deepest fears with, the one with who I want to build something on the long term, decided to lie to me about her business trip.”
“Charles…” she started.
“Don’t. How could you still not trust me? After everything we went through. After everything that we are still going through? Why do you still choose to shut me out?”
“I didn’t want you to worry or to be mad. I was about to tell you everything once I got back.”
“But I don’t want that, Lyanna for fuck’s sake! I want to be the first one you come to when you have a problem, especially if it involved James. Should I remember you what happened the last time you faced him. How scared and broken you looked in my arms?”
“Charles if you could just calm down…”
“Don’t ask me to calm down! I thought we were there for each other in the bad times and in the good but in the span of seventy-two hours I learned that I mentally exhausted you at the hospital to the point that you had to cry in my mother arms. And yes, before you said anything, I heard the conversation. I was a shitty boyfriend and I would have liked for you to come to me to tell me that I was an asshole to you instead of keeping everything bottled up inside you and ended up breaking down. Because of me. It broke my heart, Lyanna. It broke me to know that I broke you. And then, when I was just thinking that you were on business meeting in London, I see your name trending alongside James’ and the first thing I see when I clicked on the link is you getting assaulted. And being completely unaware that you even planned to meet him or why you would even. So no. Don’t ask me to calm down.”
They were both on the verge of tears. Tears of guilt for Lyanna and tears of frustration for Charles.
“He wanted to sue me for defamation after the interview.” She confessed.
“This thing is getting better and better. Do you hide other things or are we good?”
Without a word, she took out her phone and quickly searched for the recording of her conversation with James before handing the device to Charles, who pressed play. As the recording progressed, she could see Charles' eyes darken. She avoided looking at him again, preferring to stare conspicuously at the floor. When the recording finally ended, she dared to look up at Charles, who had his head in his hands. With fearful steps she approached him. Charles felt her close to him and shifted in the armchair so that she could have room to sit.
“I’m going to kill him. I swear, Lyanna, I’m going to kill him.”
“No you don’t. Because this recording is already in the hands of the journalist who interviewed me, as well as in the hands of my lawyer. I trust them and I know they are going to use it wisely. I obviously cut the part where I said that I recorded the conversation. It’s going to leak in the press the same way he leaked the pictures of me. And I hope that now, he will leave me alone.”
“You should not have gone alone.”
“I don’t regret it. I finally have some closure. All those years wondering what I had done wrong to deserve that just to learn that at the end, it was pure jealousy… It was painful to hear that he never loved me. But, you know…all those times when I believed that the only example I had of what love should be was him. I know now that it was not love and it never had been. It’s you, who showed me and keeps showing me what love really is and how it supposed to make me feel. And I’m grateful for that.”
“I told you that before and I’ll keep telling you until you believe it, but you deserve every bit of love that you receive Lyanna. Not only from me. Do you know how much my mom loves you. And it was not off to a good start. But you convinced her and now she can’t stop praising you. It’s cute. Joris thinks you are amazing and funny. Arthur already sees you as his sister-in-law. Pierre thinks you deserve better than me. And the list could go on and on. You are loved Lya.”
“I want to give you a hug but I don’t want to hurt you.”
Charles smiled weakly before taking her hand and kissed her palm.
“I’m still mad at you. But I care more about you being okay than you being with him. And I’m proud of how you handled the situation. I’m proud of you. Even if I would have liked to take part in your scheme.”
“I would have loved for you to be there too but you can’t fight my battles for me. There are some things that I have to do on my own. Now that it is out of the way, tell me about you. What did the doctor say?”
“He is happy with my progress. Still a long way to go but I’m getting there. He thinks in about three weeks I should be able to exercise with Andrea. I will have to take it slow.”
“Yep, and I’ll make sure of that.”
Lyanna straightened up and stretched as Charles did the same. He winced in pain as he touched his ribs, which made Lyanna worried.
“I’m not made of paper, Lya. I’m fine. Don’t worry. Are you up for delivery? I wanted a McDonald so bad. It’s been a while and since I don’t have a diet to follow anymore…” he attempted to wink at her but failed miserably eliciting a little laugh from the actress.
“With a movie?”
“Only if I can choose. You owe me at least that.”
Comfortably settled in Charles's bed, the delivery bag at the foot of the bed and the cardboard boxes emptied everywhere, Lyanna had found a comfortable position in Charles's arms.  Snuggled up against him, her head in the crook of his neck, she felt good. Where she belonged. Charles's hand traced little circles down her back as he watched intensely the latest Fast & Furious. The franchise didn't interest her that much. She didn't really understand the hype around the films, but she didn't care about the movie as long as she was there with him.
“I miss racing.” He confessed to her between two action packed scenes.
Lyanna traced Charles' jaw line with her fingertips, forcing him to look at her.
“You are going to go back up there. And you are going to win. I can promise you that.”
“Don’t make empty promises, Lya. Whether I win or I lose, it’s not up to you.”
“It’s not an empty promise. I believe in you. If there is one person that can come back stronger than ever after a crash like that, it’s you. You are my champ and you will always be.”
He planted a kiss on her forehead.
“I’m lucky to have you. Tell me, how long are you going to stay in Monaco? Do you plans to go back to London at some point?”
“I’m not planning of leaving you. I’ll be here as long as you need me.”
“Be careful with your words. I'd be tempted to keep you here, in this flat, forever.”
==========
author's note: Double update today because why not? As usual, don't forget to like / comment / reblog to suppost the author
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redfoxwritesstuff · 29 days
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Sunflower: Book 1, chapter 15
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Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: Our flashback is a bit.. Uhum. Steamy? AN: Do we get our conversation? How childish will Mia be? Can she act like a goddamn adult? LETS FIND OUT!
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~~~~~~<3
It had been four days. Four long, slow days. Four days where Mia could try to think without the overwhelming presence of a stranger in her space. Four days where Mia found herself longing for that presence.
Tom had been gone for four days and it had been twenty four hours since she had heard from Tom. Radio silence filled the air, though she tried to drown it out with music, television and conversations. How could silence gnaw at her heart in the very same way as the insane devotion that radiated off him did?
He was busy. He was working. He was… not here. And that bothered her. A lot. It shouldn’t, but it did. And that killed her. Not physically, but god did she kind of wish it did. 
She wasn’t clingy typically but she couldn’t help it. This was his fault. He demanded that she invest. How could she not when he insisted on finding any crack in her heart to worm his way in and try to find purchase to take root. 
He had made her think he was different. Hell, he had all but said he was different.
This was supposed to be different. 
But here she was, four days alone.
Sally was asleep and the apartment was large, empty and frigidly silent. She had worked a early shift and tomorrow had a late one. Exhaustion was deep in her bones but she needed to stay up way too late tonight. 
What was it like to have someone to be at home with, to not be alone in the silence of the night when she had no choice but play chicken with the morning light? 
A ping from her phone caught her attention. Glancing at it, she saw it was just another news push notification. It wasn’t a feature she wanted but it was installed automatically with the latest software update. There was enough in her life to be anxious about without getting 24 hour updates every day of the year on what god awful thing was happening in another state or country. It had been a few weeks but she hadn’t been able to figure out how to turn it off. 
It was just a matter of time until she figured it out though. She swore it. Every time it had gone off it had given her false hope that he finally sent something, she swore she’d figure it out. 
This was ridiculous. 
The reason for the radio silence was obvious. She had been right and he realized it. It was that simple. No need to pine, question and dance like a goddamn schoolgirl. 
With time away, Tom realized that everything Mia had said Saturday morning was right. In a few days or a few weeks she would get a notice from some lawyer initiating the annulment. Would he cancel the card he left for her to use? 
It’s not like it was hard to replace, really. It was just a credit card, he obviously could live without the physical card for a while. How hard would it really be on him if he changed his mind?
“Some promise that was.” Mia tossed the card absently onto the end table next to her. 
Ping. 
Ignore it. There was no point in checking. It wasn’t him. it was never him. 
Okay, she was being a bit dramatic. Really dramatic, maybe. She didn’t know. It was dumb. She was being dumb. It was too soon to decide he ghosted her. 
“Fuck,” She slumped back on the couch. “I guess I’ll be able to say I got ghosted by an actor.” 
Ping.
She couldn’t help it, she grabbed her phone knowing exactly what she’d find. It would be a second news story of little to no importance to her day to day life. An auto accident near by that slowed traffic patterns or a missing person on the other side of the country. A storm in Brazil or a heatwave in India. It would be a protest in China. It would be nothing.
It was a text message from contact Tom. 
“Can I call?” The message read. Another followed, “It’s late, I know.” 
She sent a single k back and waited for the other shoe to drop. There was nearly no wait for the phone to come to life in her hand. She hadn’t added a picture to his contact, it was just Tom H lighting up her screen. 
Nothing more. 
She took a deep breath and answered, “Hello,” 
“Is everything alright?” Tom’s tone was difficult to pinpoint. 
“Yeah-” She cleared her throat and sat up. “I’m fine. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Just lay it on me.”
“Lay what on you?” Tom sounded confused and that confused her. “What are you talking about?” 
“You haven’t said anything, all day.” Her eyes burned and her throat felt tight. She needed air. The apartment was suffocating as she stood. 
“It has been a minute, I suppose.” He was picking his words carefully. 
“Can you just- why are you calling?” The glass door slid closed behind her. If Tom was going to do whatever she wanted to not have to worry about Sally waking up for it. 
“I wanted to talk to you?” Tom sounded unsure, on the other side of the country he had found himself off balance.
“About what?” Mia felt the anger sweeping in to push away her sadness. It wasn’t healthy but it was a bad habit that she often found solace in. Anger was safe. For her at least, not those in her way. 
“You’re upset with me?” 
“Stop asking questions.” Mia snapped. “What do you want?”
“I wanted to make sure you got the couch alright.” Tom’s voice was starting to pull tight. “Why did you think I wanted to call?” 
“To tell me I was right.” Mia’s voice cracked. This was it, their first fight was going to happen and it hadn’t even been two weeks. “To tell me…” 
Tom’s tone changed from the defensive and softened considerably. He may not be able to read her mind but he knew she was hurting. “I’m not calling to ask for an annulment. Why on earth did you think that?” 
“You never texted back. You stopped talking and I just- It’s been over a day and it’s been slowing down. It was just-” she clamped down on the words as her voice threatened to give away how close she was to tears, that safe anger winking out in her shame. 
“You missed me?” his voice was so soft. “I got absorbed in work. I’m sorry.” 
“No, no.” Mia forced a chuckle. It was all a misunderstanding. She was acting like a love sick schoolgirl. She was a grown ass woman married to a grown ass man. She shouldn’t be crying and thinking their marriage is over just because he didn’t text her for a day. “I swear- I’m not clingy.” 
“It’s alright.” Somewhere on the other side of the universe, he sat down heavily on the too big bed. “Things are new and delicate. I’m just as guilty for not being aware.” Silence ticked on. While they had texted while he was away (until it stopped) they hadn’t actually talked on the phone. 
“I saw part of your interview.” Mia wasn’t sure why she said it. 
“Which one?” Tom asked, his voice warming to life. “What did you think?” 
“The one where you talked about me.” 
“Did I- Was what I said alright?” Tom wasn’t totally sure which one she was talking about but he didn’t want to complicate things more. 
“I don’t like lying.” Mia said. “I know why you need to but I don’t like it.” 
“It’s not really lying, its just implying different and reinforcing our privacy.” That still sounded like lying to Mia but she let it go. She was pretty sure he more than implied they knew eachother for longer than a night in the segment she watched anyway. 
He could lie so easily and didn’t even agree with her on the definition of lying. The fact that he played pretend well enough to do it for a living showed he was good at telling lies too. 
Shaking her head, she pushed the thoughts away. Tom had never given her a reason to think he would lie to her. He has been earnest and honest from the moment they woke up Saturday. 
“Hiding parts of my private life is just a fact of my life. If I want to hold anything back for myself without the public picking it apart, it needs to be protected from them.”
“I know.” Mia sighed as she leaned against the railing. The fight felt like it had been narrowly avoided. 
“It’s people in my life I tell the truth but to protect the people in my life I don’t tell the world the whole truth.”
“I know, I know-”
“It’ll take time to get used to.” 
Silence filled the air again. This time it didn’t have that same icy chill to it. She had missed him and that scared her. 
“Tom?” Her heart beat too hard in her chest. Did he miss her? Even just a little? 
He hummed on the other side of the universe and she wondered what he was doing. They had a time difference of three hours. It was late for her but even later for him. Was he preparing to go to bed? Was he just getting in from a night on the town?
“What is it?” He asked after she failed to say anything. 
She wanted to tell him she missed him. She wanted to ask when he was going to come back. She hated it. 
“Don’t be a stranger.” God, that was so lame. Out of everything she could have said, that’s what she came up with?
“I have been, haven’t I?” It was Mia’s turn to be silent. She wasn’t sure what to say. It was weird to be married to a man she didn’t know.
“I mean, what’s what we kind of still are, aren’t we?” It was the best she could come up with to say. 
“I’m sorry. I’d gotten busy and fallen away from texting you. I- Luke tacked on a few appearances. The trip got extended. Usually it’s nothing, I didn’t think anything of it. Until I did. But by then- I didn’t know what to say.”
The ability to apologize was not one that Mia had seen much in the men that had spent time in her life. It reassured her that he could do something as simple as say ‘sorry’.
“I should be back by Friday.” Tom said, sounding sure. Just as sure as he had sounded before he left. “I promise.” 
“Don’t.” Mia’s voice came harder than she intended. “Don’t promise if you don’t have control over keeping it.” 
“Mia-”
“I need to get to bed. Work tomorrow.”
What moments of warmth they had shared during the call had cooled. Would it always be like this? She hoped not. Could she ever feel safe enough to stop icing him out as soon as things warmed up? 
“I’ll call again tomorrow?” Tom fell back on the hotel bed. This call had not gone how he intended but who’s fault was that? He should have just told her when the plan changed. 
“If you want.” She didn’t know what else to say as she stepped back into the apartment, locking the sliding door behind her. 
“I do want.” Tom hesitated, “It’s good to hear your voice. To talk to you. I missed you.”
She didn’t know what to say. Couldn’t say anything. Her heart pounded in her chest and her hands trembled. “Goodnight, Tom.” Was what she managed to squeak out before disconnecting the call.
~~~~~<3
Tom pressed her against the door. His hand was large and firm against her waist, holding her right where he wanted. Fumbling, with his wallet trapped in his pocket, he struggled with the other hand. His pants were tight around his hips and his current state of mind didn’t help matters. 
Her nails scratched at the hair at the back of his neck as she clung to him. It felt like she was floating, swimming through a sea of desire and alcohol. She needed him. She wanted him. “Hurry.” 
“Got it.” The wallet slipped out. It was a struggle to flip it open with one hand, then find the hotel keycard. In the process of getting the card out, he dropped the leather wallet to the floor. 
His breath was hot in her ear. Lips worked, leaving harsh kisses along her neck. As he worked the card into the slot, he moved his hand from her waist to her breast, stopping for a firm squeeze that had a soft moan slip from her lips. 
“I need you.” She whimpered as the door beeped, denying entry. 
“Who do you need?” Tom asked as he flipped the card around, trying different sides hoping one would work.
“My husband.” That set fire to him. 
The door beeped the correct tune this time, granting them entry. Tom hooked the door handle with his hand, slapping it down clumsily after yanking the card from the door. The door swung open, no longer providing a solid surface to support their weight. 
Tom held her up with a arm flung around her waist as they stumbled in. He kicked blindly, relying on feel alone to help him ensure he kicked his wallet somewhere into the room.
“My wife.” Tom breathed as he kicked the door shut behind them. Alone at last. 
~~~~~<3
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tsukimefuku · 1 month
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The search for the man in the black suit
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You were assigned to find and capture Higuruma Hiromi, a curse user sentenced to death by Jujutsu higher ups. You're just not sure if he really deserves to die.
Tags: Jujutsu Kaisen, f!reader, angst, canon-typical violence.
WC: 3.5K
This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU". A sequence of short stories and random drabbles related to Nanami x Reader x Higuruma. To see the ever-growing list of one-shots and short stories, please visit my masterlist :) 
Disclaimer: these stories NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this story fits in the timeline, please check the masterlist mentioned above.
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From the unexplainable exorcism of multiple curses in just two days around Morioka City, Jujutsu High was able to triangulate the curse user's most probable hideout. You were assigned to find the man and capture him, in order to take him to execution by Tengen's established Jujutsu Society.
However, you were authorized to use lethal force in case he posed a direct threat to your life.
The man was 35-years-old Higuruma Hiromi. He was a former criminal defense lawyer that awakened his cursed technique during trial, right after his client got convicted, and wound up killing the prosecutor and the judge in the process. Jujutsu High provided you with some pictures of him, and in absolutely all of them, he was wearing a signature black suit with a sunflower pin on the lapel, always accompanied by a black tie.
Normally, these murders would be addressed by the regular justice system. However, because it involved cursed activity according to multiple accounts from witnesses that were in the courtroom that day, Jujutsu High was entrusted with the task of dealing with him.
Ever since he killed those two people, he was missing, and this is where you came in — you were entrusted with locating him and capturing him.
It felt odd going into this mission, and you couldn't help but wonder what got that man — supposedly a straight A's upstanding citizen and criminal defense lawyer — to commit murder. He surely was accustomed to fighting for hopeless causes and betting on losing dogs, especially in Japan where the conviction rate was so high, so why snap at this case? What had happened?
You remembered yourself how you were, once, targeted by Jujutsu High, and decided, while you got off the train, to give the man the benefit of the doubt.
***
It was night already, and the cool breeze soothed your face as you closed the car's door behind you. Following the directions you received when assigned this mission, you took a cab and wound up in front of an abandoned building. 
You checked the address, and sure enough, it matched the area you were supposed to look around to find the former lawyer.
Standing in front of that concrete carcass, you made your way inside, noticing the door to the entrance was completely gone. The building apparently had three floors from what you could tell after counting the windows visible from the outside, and you knew you'd have to check them all thoroughly in case this man was hiding.
However, it proved unnecessary.
Right in the middle of the first floor, you spotted a full bathtub, which was already odd enough. On top of that, the man you were looking for was laying inside of it, completely clothed, and didn't spare you a look as you came inside and stood there, staring at him in confusion.
"Have you ever bathed with your clothes on?" He inquired, suddenly.
"Hm, no" you answered, slightly taken aback. What kind of question is that? "I'm from a very cold place, even thinking of it gives me anxiety."
He was still staring at the ceiling, lit by moonlight and streetlamps that bled through the destroyed windows. "Where?"
"I'm from Odate" you answered, still completely puzzled as to why he was just making small talk with you. In any case, you decided to humor him, maybe he'd comply more easily to come with you if you did so. 
"Odate? Akita Prefecture, right? Lovely place. I went there once." His expression was completely blank as he said this.
"Did you?"
"Yes. I went there for a case. I was a criminal defense lawyer." He answered, lingering on the last word.
You gave it some moments before asking, "How did it end?"
"My client was convicted to life imprisonment. He was innocent."
Silence. 
You introduced yourself, and asked him if he was Higuruma Hiromi. He sighed at the sound of his name, finally looking at you.
"Yes, I am Higuruma Hiromi."
His eyes were empty and perceptive, and even in this silly scenario, he looked anything but silly. Even though you were a Grade 1 sorcerer, for a brief moment, the lingering question if you could take him on or not crossed your mind. You weren't sure. His aura was something else.
"If you know who I am, then you probably know what I've done." He said, nonchalantly.
You nodded. "Higuruma Hiromi. 35 years old. Former criminal defense attorney. Killed two people using an innate cursed technique after the conviction of one of your clients. His verdict of innocence was overturned, and you demanded a retrial, killing both victims on the spot."
He scoffed, and slid himself just a little under the water, protruding his knees up. "I thought I'd feel anything when listening to my charges. My clients always stiffened or hunched over when they did. I just feel... Nothing." He sighed. "So is that what this is? Innate cursed technique, you say?"
"Yes. They are a special kind of cursed energy manipulation from what we call jujutsu sorcery. Some people are born with them, and it usually manifests during childhood. However, it can happen later in life, often due to traumatic events and very negative experiences" you answered.
He seemed pensive for a moment. "And I assume you can manipulate cursed energy too, right? You seem to know a lot about it."
Your body tensed up. His voice had changed, and he began to emanate a discreetly menacing aura. "Yes, I can."
To the sound of that, the curse user put each hand to the side of the bathtub and began lifting his body up.
"I want to know what happened in Keita's trial. Why he was found innocent in the first place" you said, and the man stopped in his tracks, diverting his gaze to you. He seemed slightly interested, and you decided to double down.
"You were someone that took on incredibly hard criminal cases in a country with an extremely high conviction rate. Why did you kill these two people after he got convicted?"
Higuruma pondered for a moment before answering. "Because I grew tired of people's ugliness." He began. "My client got his favorable sentence overruled simply because a prosecutor had a chip on his shoulder, wanted to appease the media, and the judge couldn't bother to do this job rightfully, eager to end his work load for the day and leave, failing to see the people and lives he affected. All he saw were just piles of papers to be taken care of."
He paused.
"Because of their ugliness, an innocent man will spend the rest of his life behind bars."
At that moment, you were sure this wasn't the speech of a cold-blooded murderer, but someone that got so disfigured by an unfair system that he, too, became disfigured himself.
"I understand" you replied. "I'm sorry that happened to your client."
His eyes became less vacant for a split second, but his walls came back up as quickly as he asked, "how do you know who I am, and what are you doing here?"
Your breath got caught in your throat for a moment. "I was sent to capture you and take you to Tokyo. People that manipulate and employ cursed energy in Japan are subject to Jujutsu's Laws."
"Oh, so you're a jujutsu police officer of some sort?" He inquired. "Unfortunately, I don't talk to police officers without the presence of a lawyer, and since you didn't let me know that beforehand, nothing I told you up until now can be used as evidence against me."
"Ah... What?" You asked, genuinely confused.
He snorted, smiling. "I just wanted to play the 'accused and interrogated by the police' role for once."
"... Oh."
Yeah. He was definitely messed up in the head.
You were both sharing an incredibly awkward silence for a minute that seemed like an eternity.
"So, can I take you now?" You finally asked, breaking the silence.
"No."
More awkward silence.
"I mean, I just came here to do that."
"I understand. The answer is still no" he retorted. "There is probably a life imprisonment or death sentence waiting for me, am I correct?"
You failed to spit out an answer for him on the spot, and he took great notice of that.
"As I thought. So, no, I won't come with you out of my own volition." Higuruma said that as he got out of the bathtub and started walking towards you.
You took a step back and tried reasoning with him. "I intended to suggest a lesser punishment for you when we got to Tokyo. From what you've told me, you are not a murderer. Just someone that apparently lost his way and-"
"Lost my way?" He scoffed. "I haven't. I just see the truth more clearly now."
His cursed energy started radiating, and you knew now there was no turning back — you'd have to fight.
You conjured up many small grenades in-between your fingers, but before you could do anything, you saw yourself engulfed inside a courtroom. Higuruma was standing on the other side, and there was a giant black creature with a white face right behind him.
"Eh?! What the hell is this?!" You said, surprised. "Is this your domain expansion?"
"Oh, so that's what it's called? Domain expansion?"
Before he could do anything, you jumped over the pulpit and threw your grenades towards him. However, you were instantly warped back to your position, and felt even more confused than before.
"No violence is allowed inside this courtroom."
So it isn't a sure hit domain? What the hell is going on?
"Let me explain. In here, I have evidence of a crime you committed." He lifted an envelope. "Judgeman, who is right behind me, will say your charges. He knows everything about everyone inside the domain. After hearing your charges, you'll have time to make your statements, and with the evidence in my hands, to which you'll not have access to, I'll argue against your allegations. Then, Judgeman will sentence you based on the six japanese codes."*
*AN: The six Japanese codes are the Constitution, the Civil Code, the Criminal Code, the Commercial Code, the Code of Criminal Procedure, and the Code of Civil Procedure.
"What are the possible punishments?"
"Unfortunately, that is not up to me, but you can say anything you want in your defense during your deposition."
"Well, shouldn't I have access to the evidence in order to make my defense? And shouldn't you speak first? I mean, you're acting like a prosecutor. And if Judgeman knows everything, how can I expect a fair trial? It's like expecting God or any all-knowing being to-"
He scoffed. "Things are rarely fair in a courtroom. And Judgeman's sentencing will take into account only our allegations. Now let's get to it. Judgeman is not very patient."
The shikigami proceeded.
"February 20th, 2008, Odate City, Akita Prefecture. You stand accused of suppression of evidence related to a criminal case of another person, consisting in keeping items related to murders carried out by Shogo Yamada and not surrendering those objects to the authorities. What do you have to say in your defense?"
Oh. You remembered that, alright. You, Nanami and Gojo kept most of the items that contained cursed energy traces that they found on the murder scenes and never surrendered those to the police. After the end of their mission, Gojo and Nanami took those items with them, and they were all probably kept somewhere in Jujutsu High ever since.
Shit, what do I say?
You had a half-assed idea.
"We only did so in order to carry out our own investigation and reach him before the police did, considering he was a curse user that killed people with his innate cursed technique and would most likely harm any officer that got to him. So we were acting in legitimate defense of third parties" you answered, kind of incredulous all of this was happening.
Higuruma opened his envelope, and it had a picture of Shogo, deceased. "You could've surrendered that evidence to the police after his death. So, you undoubtedly kept evidences related to crimes of homicide unlawfully under your possession."
Fuck.
"The defendant is found guilty. Penalty: Confiscation" the shikigami said, before the entire domain dissipated.
You sighed, pissed. As you tried to conjure one of your grenades, it didn't work.
Higuruma noticed that.
"Confiscation, apparently, strips someone from their innate cursed technique."
To the sound of that, you clenched your hand and imbued it in cursed energy. At least I have that. I can try to fist fight this guy.
"Well, what would you say in my defense in that case, lawyer?" You asked, begrudgingly.
"It's simple, really. The law states that it is a crime to suppress evidence related to a criminal case of another person. Given that these murders were carried out by a curse user, and also what you just told me — that there are Jujutsu Laws to judge those who kill using jujutsu —, he wouldn't be under the jurisdiction of the regular justice system, so there would be no need to surrender that evidence in the first place. The fact that you're here and not the police proves that Jujutsu Laws overrule the Penal Code, and Jujutsu Laws are not contemplated by the six codes Judgeman adheres to."
Asshole.
"Fine, then let's get this over with" you replied.
Suddenly, he threw a gavel at you, and you dodged it by the skin of your teeth. Damn, he's fast. 
You realized, at that moment, you were in deep trouble, as he lunged at you grabbing the gavel that ricocheted back. You had some taijutsu training with Gojo, and prayed it'd be enough to keep you alive during this fight.
Jumping away to keep some distance in between the two of you, you thought you'd have some time to think of a strategy, but he was quicker, managing to hit you and send you flying to the other side of the room. Reinforcing your body with cursed energy, you managed to scrape off most of the damage, but were still very much hurt due to the blunt force impact.
Right before he dashed in your direction again, the roof came crumbling down, separating the both of you, as Higuruma stood closer to the exit, and you were very much cornered in the back of that floor.
It took you a moment to fully grasp what was going on. A gigantic spider-like curse, completely black with no eyes, had apparently been drawn to this place due to the cursed energy from your fight.
This isn't good. I can't make a run for it right now, I'm completely trapped and have no grenades or anything else.
You made the next decision in a split second.
"Higuruma, run! I'll handle this!" You shouted, surprising him.
"You have no innate cursed technique anymore!" He yelled back.
"I know that! Just fucking go! Save yourself!" You replied on the top of your lungs, dodging the curse's first three strikes. 
By no means was he innocent, and just moments prior, Higuruma was actively trying to kill you. Even so, you were someone that strongly believed in second chances, and though you couldn't exactly explain why, you still felt he deserved repentance.
That would never happen if he got killed in there.
"Go!" You shouted at him, seeing that the curse user simply stood there, dumbfounded, looking at you.
During this brief moment of distraction, the curse whipped one of its many legs directly against your abdomen, and you hit the concrete behind you, feeling your mouth instantly spurting with thick puddles of blood. You could distinctly feel you were injured internally, and that it was ugly.
On top of that, you knew you wouldn't be able to RCT yourself quickly enough.
Shit...
You saw the snow from Odate, while the cold formed beautiful fractals against the glass in your old home's window. Felt the taste and smell of your favorite tea, a recipe passed on through generations in your family. The day your parents left in the middle of the night, you were holding your brother in your arms, scared of what would happen to the two of you. Your brother's laughter. Your best friend hugging you the day you both graduated from High School. The afternoon you came to Jujutsu High. Nanami's face smiling at you. You saw it all in the longest second of your life.
I'm going to die.
The curse came at you and began descending three of its legs all at once, and you braced yourself for the impact.
Surprisingly, it never came.
When you realized, Higuruma was in front of you, using his gavel to hold the curse's legs at arm's length.
"Move!" He shouted, and you rolled yourself over propelling your body with your legs, as he swirled himself and his gavel around the curse's limbs. Higuruma instantly charged at it, dealing a blow that threw the cursed spirit across the vicinity.
He was definitely very strong for a modern day sorcerer, and you were even more sure of that seeing him go toe to toe with a strong Grade 1 curse.
However, you still needed a way to get yourself out of there.
Tapping inside your belt bag, you reached for your phone, praying it wasn't destroyed when you got hit twice. By a miracle, it wasn't, and you started to text Gojo, the only person you knew that had the ability to warp himself around.
Sending you my location. Injured. Came here to capture curse user. Need help asap. Might die.
It was a long shot, but the only one you had.
As you were praying that Gojo saw that message and came to your rescue, you had the chance to witness firsthand how talented this curse user was. He made close combat look easy, jumping around the curse and hitting it with his gavel — is this gavel bigger now? — effortlessly. 
Suddenly, his weapon became 10 times the size it previously was, and Higuruma used it to propel himself in the air, swinging the gavel down directly over the curse, completely crushing the spirit underneath. 
It had been exorcized.
You wanted to sigh relieved, but as Higuruma landed, he turned to face you. On his face, a mixture of confusion, shock, and something else you couldn't quite grasp. It kind of looked like... Annoyance?
"Why did you-" He began asking.
At that moment, a whiff of wind blew inside the room, and you mustered enough strength to yell "don't kill him!" shortly before Gojo threw Higuruma against the wall. At impact, the curse user fell on the floor, confused as to what was going on.
"Knock him out!" You shouted.
Gojo swiftly approached the man and planted two of his fingers on Higuruma's forehead, who instantly passed out.
Now you were relieved.
"So... What happened and why did you ask me not to kill him?" Gojo said, turning to look at you. "Oof, you're beat up. Guess we gotta increase our training sessions!" He chirped, grinning.
"Ugh, come on, Gojo. I'm bleeding internally, cut the jokes for a second, will you?" You said, rolling on your back, while healing your insides with RCT.
"Not for long, I see. Your RCT is improving" he noted.
"I was about to capture this guy, but we got jumped by a Grade 1 curse."
"What? And you couldn't defeat it, a Grade 1? Have you become weak or something?!" Gojo inquired, walking up to you and looking at your pathetically splayed beat-up body on the ground as you healed.
"Shut up. I don't have my innate cursed technique right now. He neutralized it."
Gojo widened his eyes. "He did?! How?"
"It's the effect of getting caught up inside his domain, which doesn't work with the sure hit thing. Ugh, come on, help me up" you complained, extending one of your hands. Gojo grabbed it and pulled you sharply, sending a wave of pain throughout your body. "Goddammit, man, be more delicate."
He laughed and waved his hands, dismissing your complaints. "You'll be just fine. Now, what was that about a domain that can remove other people's innate cursed techniques?"
You tried conjuring one of your grenades, and it came to your hand. At the sight of that, you sighed, relieved.
"Long story short, he can temporarily deactivate someone's technique if they suffer some sort of conviction from a Shikigami." You gazed at Higuruma, still asleep on the floor. "He's also insanely talented. I was led to believe I was sent to capture a dangerous killer, but he just-" your voice paused for a moment.
"Hm?"
"He just seems misguided."
You pondered for a moment.
"Could he work with us? I mean, we're always short-staffed."
Gojo was surprised, and asked, "really? I mean, you were only in this deep shit situation because of him."
"I mean, he was going to get captured and taken for execution. I'd defend myself, too. Also, his crimes wouldn't necessarily render him a death penalty if he was to be judged by a regular Court. He'd probably get life imprisonment or maybe imprisonment for a certain number of years."
The sorcerer thought about it for a moment, and walked towards Higuruma.
"He deserves a second chance, and will certainly be an asset for Jujutsu High" you concluded. "He's strong. He exorcized this grade 1 curse without my help, and he awakened his abilities a week ago or so."
"Are you sure?" He asked, lifting his blindfold with a finger to look at you.
"I am. Gojo, you saved me from the claws of the higher ups. They're arbitrary bigots, you know that." You said. "Please, take this as a request from a friend, will you?"
"Fine" Gojo replied, throwing Higuruma over his shoulder and giving you a thumbs up. "I'll do my best! But you owe me a bag of kikufuku."
You smiled at him. "Of course. I'd expect no different. Thank you."
--
End notes:
So, this one was a fun one. I literally read the japanese Penal Code and put my own knowledge of law hierarchy, criminal law interpretation and criminal procedure (as of today I can say I do have a masters degree in it 😂) to use. Hope you guys like it! xoxo 🦉
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kylorensl · 9 months
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Every day, Kylo has to leave at lunchtime. Mitaka, his personal assistant, cannot find out, althoug has tried in every way, what do these outputs mean, and what intrigues the young assistant most is seeing his grumpy boss come back from lunch with a bouquet of cherry blossoms. Mitaka has lost count of how many has taken home, or given to some of the staff. Why the hell does taciturn Kylo Ren need to bring flowers every day? Then he has one more idea and says to himself, that it will be the last try, and promises to leave this obsession. "Sir, may I ask you a question?" Mitaka ventures visibly tense, under the scrutiny of Kylo who hesitates a bit before answering. "Be quick, I can't be late." Kylo waits, growing impatient, as Mitaka swallows. "Yes sir, please, I would like to know where you buy these flowers, so that I can buy some." Mitaka is shaking inside because he was never so bold but, his efforts are rewarded when sees his boss, the mighty Kylo Ren, look away, blushing like a teenager. So he knows got him. "Huh... Yes... Of course... I... I'll tell you where it is." Kylo doesn't even look at Mitaka as reaches into his wallet, pulling out a card and handing it to his assistant. "Thank you sir." Mitaka holds back from laughing, when sees that big and feared man, fleeing his scrutiny, as the game flees from the hunter. The next day, he changes his lunch schedule and goes to that flower shop. The array of flowers is beautiful and he almost forgets why he's here when sees Kylo walk in. Mitaka hides and is perplexed to see his boss smile... Yes... Kylo is smiling. But then he sees why, when the gorgeous redhead emerges from inside the shop, bearing the well-known bouquet. The man is of a distinct beauty, and though both try to hide it, Mitaka catches it quickly, that unmistakable exchange of glances. There's also that subtle touch when the redhead hands Kylo the flowers, and both blush, smiling when the purchase is complete. Now all makes sense... However, the young assistant, can no longer bear to see so many bouquets being wasted and, suspects that his idiot boss, he has yet to make any attempt to invite the florist to dinner. That is inadmissible. Mitaka feels he has to do something and... It was with this thought that the next day, when Kylo leaves the flower shop, Mitaka runs to the place and luckily, he still manages to reach the redhead. "Could you please bring me a bouquet similar to the one my boss just brought?" Mitaka takes a chance and sees the redhead's subtle interest. "Yes of course. They're my favorite." The redhead comments while arranging the bouquet. 'Of course that would be' Mitaka almost rolls his eyes when the man in front of him starts talking again, failing to hide his interest. "So, Kylo is your boss... Do you... Do you know who the flowers he brings every day are? He... Is there anyone?" The redhead finally looks at Mitaka who suppresses a sigh. "No... He doesn't have anyone." Mitaka notices how subtly pleased the man is. "In fact, he is very shy and, I think he is interested in someone, but doesn't have the courage to talk..." Mitaka hints, watching the redhead work. "Serious? So that person needs to do something about it." The redhead squints and Mitaka knows he's got him too. "For sure. By the way, my name is Mitaka." He extends a hand with a First Order card, which has Kylo's number highlighted. "In case you need a good lawyer." The redhead takes the card and blushes. "Thank you Mitaka it's nice to meet you, my name is Hux." Finally with his goal achieved, the young assistant awaits the scenes of the next chapters, hoping his boss doesn't throttle him for giving out his personal number... 'Accidentally'. A few weeks later, Mitaka is called into Kylo's office, to organize new data from a process and, he is not prepared, when he enters and finds his boss, having afternoon coffee, together with a certain red-haired florist... But on the table, this time, there is a sunflower vase.
@symphonyofthieves 🖤🧡✨🌌
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