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unadulteratedsoulsweets · 6 months

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A DC X DP IDEA #22

Back in my day.

Imagine dis…

Alfred is a whole mystery to the Batfam that whenever he pulls out his shotgun we are in awe at this kickass badass British butler, on the other hand, we are always in the shadows of his past endeavors. We all knew he was a S.A.S. Armed Services, fighting in 15 different operations between ages 18 and 20. A skilled medical and front liner soldier who was decorated. He later joined MI5, as well as the secret forces of the Queen and later being knighted by Her Majesty.

He is silent as he comes by, he can out Batman the Batman despite Bruce learning from the greatest assassin of all time. He is calm, too calm for any situation to the point your subconscious asks if he had seen something wilder, more insane to consider an alien attack, a mutant crocodile attack every Tuesday is considered somewhat tame, or even the rise of global or universal threats that Alfred seemed to brush it off.

So, who is he?

…

Alfred Pennyworth had always been a mysterious figure. He had dedicated his life to serving the Wayne family and their caped crusader alter-egos as Bruce Wayne's loyal butler and the revered keeper of Wayne Manor. But Alfred had held a secret for decades, one that would finally come to light most unexpectedly.

Alfred was a teenager called Danny Fenton long before he donned the perfect suit and tie. He lived in the small town of Amity Park, which was riddled with secrets of its own. Danny was not your typical adolescent; he had a strange encounter with a ghostly gateway that had bestowed upon him unusual and otherworldly skills. He had protected Amity Park from vengeful ghosts and spectral threats thanks to his power to shift into a phantom hero known as Danny Phantom.

Danny had just recently been crowned as the crowned prince of the Infinite Realm a week after he had defeated the tyrant Pariah Dark who had attempted to rip off a space in the fabric of in-between just to suck in his little quaint town. It was determined by both the ancient and the Observants that it was better for him to finish his mortal life before he dawns on the crown, as he was still growing, he was still considered a baby ghost younger than Young Blood as his death was still recent.

But slowly the thoughts that he had kept behind his head are coming back to him. Jazz his beloved sister as well as the one who had raised her despite being a child herself who had no idea of raising a child, may analyze her all she wants but she could never sympathize nor connect with his inner thoughts of being one of the halfas. He died, he never really had the time to process it because he had to face the Lunch Lady just a few days after the accident.

His friends, now looking at them closely, have seen that they both have some sort of guilt in their eyes. They both have seen him die amid the electrician, he can’t help but feel some sort of longing at the cemetery the north of Amity Park, he is too alive to have a grave yet too dead to be alive.

He thought he was getting there, changing the views of the people. To show the world that his kind is sentient but the people kept whispering. Shadows cast long by the looming specters sent chills down their spines. Every eerie wail or flicker of a ghostly presence filled them with dread. Their eyes widened in terror as the ethereal figures materialized before them. A hushed silence fell over the town when ghostly battles raged in the skies. Parents warned their children to stay indoors when the ghost alarms rang. Fearful whispers of the "Ghost Boy" circulated, both a hero and a phantom menace.

The ghostly encounters left scars of fear etched in the minds of Amity Park's residents.

In the end, he was forced to leave his home dimension, why? It’s because the GIW have become more vicious more brutal at their hunting, With the sacrifice of both his friends and family they have shoved him into the portal, never to be seen again.

…

All bloodied and still injured he had landed in a period in the early 1900. He thought that he may have accidentally traveled back in time but when he saw too many conflicting events that he had learned during his high school days that didn’t happen during this time led him to believe that he had traveled a different dimension. Small ripples in the water created a tsunami of change in what he previously known as the past, when he was still in the streets gathering information, he had noticed that he landed in the middle of London during the early 1900s. Good enough that child labor laws are still not a thing so he can work with practically anyone without questions asked. The bad news is that his supposed great-grandfather's version in this dimension had already died, according to his family tree history during his science project in 4th grade his great-grandfather went to London to earn a few bucks before traveling back to America where he would meet his supposed great grandmother and have children. Since he died before he even went back to America the Nightgale-Fenton line died with him.

Luckily a barren couple took pity on him and took him in, since Danny can’t no longer bear his original last name, he embraced the new name from this nice couple who had taken him in. Danny may have felt guilty at the prospect or even the idea of replacing his family but he can’t help but think of it as a new beginning of his life. No one to hunt down his ghostly half, No GIW, and No fruit loop trying to turn him into his heir.

Alfred Pennyworth

During this time he did a lot of odd jobs, cleaning the inside of a chimney, mining, selling newspapers… etc. Sure, it was hard work and he can’t help but look at the children far younger than him taking in jobs far more dangerous just so they can shave something to eat. He can’t help but feel too blessed when he was back in his timeline. Warn food to eat under a sturdy roof to keep out the elements as well as education. Things that were too mundane, too common, that he now feels like a luxury.

Over time he developed an accent as well as new mannerisms and vocabulary.

So, when war broke out on the horizon his core ached at the notion of protection thus signed up in the military.

Sure, he became the most feared soldier in the fields due to his using some of his ghostly abilities subtly. His enemies who stand in front of him call him The Vengeful Orphan, due to his avenging every soldier who seems to die at the hands of their enemies.

Between the ages of 18 and 20, he served in the S.A.S. Armed Services, engaging in 15 different actions. A decorated medical specialist and front-line soldier. He then joined MI5, as well as the Queen's secret forces, and was knighted by Her Majesty.

…

As time passes by the ages, slowly but surely. He had already outlived his adoptive parents and friends of his. He still held the authority of being the officially crowned prince of the Infinite Realms. He had already explored the world experiencing the culture and history of this world.

At this time, he had already recovered enough ectoplasm to turn back to his ghostly prime and create a portal to the Infinite Realms. But something in him nagged, his core kept trying to tell him something when he was about to take a step inside the portal, but he didn’t seem to know why. His years as Phantom and Alfred Pennyworth taught him to listen to his guts, and it saved him multiple times, without looking back he stayed in this dimension until his mortal life perished.

It seemed that he didn’t have to find it for too long as he was approached by none other than Thomas Wayne with the preposition to be Wayne’s butler.

So, when little Bruce Wayne was born he couldn’t help but feel a little fond of the tyke. He reminded Bruce of himself when he was just a simple young boy before everything. When the fated, night came he tried to shield Bruce from everything, to have him resemble a somewhat normal life.

That night he tucked in a teary-eyed Bruce into bed who had just witnessed his parent’s murder. He faced the ghosts of both Martha and Thomas who had been with the young master since the incident a few hours ago and tearfully promised the two ghostly couple that he would take care of Bruce. Both couples seemed to be in shock at their butler who had seen them but felt relief that their boy was in safe hands.

…

When his ward Bruce Wayne turned into a crime-fighting vigilante, he can’t help but softly snort at his outfit. Sure, he admits he had a worse outfit when he started as Phantom when he was just a young lad but he is willing to take anything other than a furry suit that fights crime at night. He has no right to criticize either since his alter ego is just him with an inverted color without a mask yet people seem to make no connection between him and Phantom, in his defense he is a young teen whereas Bruce is in his 20s. He just raised an eyebrow at his outfit and Bruce immediately changed the design to be a bit more sophisticated than just a Halloween costume of a bat.

…

So when Bruce starts to bring in orphans he can’t help but smile fondly as the manor is slowly filled with such joy from each child that seems to find a home in the large manor. He can't help but reminisce if this could have been his life if Vlad had learned to forgive Jack or if his parents and Amity Park just accepted him if the GIW didn’t exist. He thought one day when he was drinking tea with Jason, Jason who died and came back different, never broken. His grandchild who experienced his death in a slow yet painful way died and came back later. He knew there was something different with his grave but he chalked it up in being his ghostly sense sensing the ectoplasm around Gotham. He just wished he checked the grave even though it holds so much sentimental value to the dead.

Don’t get him wrong the moment Jason came back to enact his revenge on B he was already aware something was in Gotham he just didn’t know at the time that it was Jason. He is more than happy to kill the Joker as he had taken mortal lives when he was serving the army but Bruce might notice and he still held fear at the idea of Dan.

After the entire revelation between his son and grandchild, he just welcomed back Jason into the manor as if nothing was wrong with the boy and prepared his favorite dish and snacks in the library whenever he visited.

…

Now it had been a long way since he entered this dimension, now the long table at the manor is filled with guests and children alike. His grandchildren are full of life despite what had life thrown at them. Dick was the first one to arrive and started, Barbara followed, Jason who took off the wheel, Tim with his brilliant mind with his worrying caffeine intake, Stephanie who fought with his father, Cassandra who started just to atone for the sin of killing her father yet became loyal and caring young lady and Damian who started to learn what humanity is like. Sure others had been emotionally adopted but all of them all have places in the manor.

…

His grandchildren as well as his pseudo son kept throwing him curious glances every time, He managed to seemingly appear behind them to notify them of dinner. He can also feel the envy of walking silently from the assassin-trained children. He can feel Bruce’s stare whenever he raises an eyebrow at some classified cases that are supposedly secured. He can hear their whispers as they exclaim to one another that he supposedly knew everything, of course, he knew everything the manor became his new haunt after a few years.

…

He already raised an eyebrow at the simultaneous alarm from every vigilante at the dinner table but imagine his surprise when he joined in looking over the Bat computer as Oracle barked out orders and instructions, as a familiar opponent showed itself.

A green glowing monster is wreaking havoc throughout Gotham it came from Central City and marched its way here to Gotham which became even more powerful due to the ectoplasm in the air. There is already notable damage from both cities as the rest of the heroes seem to work together to evacuate and stop the creature. The JLD attacks seem to have some effect but it was useless due to its minions that kept them occupied. Oracle is so focused on the situation and doesn’t notify their pseudo grandfather to disappear from behind her.

…

The entire JL is starting to feel hopeless as the green creature seems to raze Gotham as if the stone road is made out of water. Every magician and heavy hitter have been called but no one was able to put damage to the creature.

When all hopes seemed lost, they all heard a loud bang from a shotgun.

Alfred Pennyworth is standing on top of a rubble of concrete and metal, the butler of Batman, the pseudo father, and grandfather of the entire bat clan, also known as Agent A. Carrying his signature shotgun and a thermos that seems to strap to his hip like a belt.

He kept firing round after round from his trusty old shotgun and pausing for a second to reload. He glanced at the heroes around and seemed to raise an eyebrow at the absolute massacre that he had just done to the creature’s minions.

As he paused to take another reload, he paused at movement and looked at the space in front of him and waited. The creature appeared roaring out in fury but seemed to pause the moment it laid eyes on Alfred. The creature seems to shake with uncertainty and fear. Every vigilante and hero present could see its eyes growing wide from shock and fear as well the cold sweat as Alfred raised an eyebrow at the creature as he slowly walked towards the creature with annoyance with every step.

Some heroes who had enhanced hearing could hear Alfred muttering about, back in his day blob ghosts were these cute and harmless things but now some up-start wannabe newly formed one seems to think he is all hot shot.

He proceeds to scold the creature as if he had just caught one of his grandchildren sneaking their hands on the cookie jar and proceeds to take out the thermos and effectively catch the creature. As if the one responsible for the mess never existed in the first place.

Now the bat clan has rules when they are in the manor or the presence of Alfred and one of those rules is that there will be no swearing when he is around, but there is one word that seems to resound from each hero's mind.

What the fuck just happened?!?!

…

Now as you know I started to post less, now it is both from writer’s block and class being in the way.

PS: If someone out there wanted to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

#dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #batman #ghost king danny #dp #batfam

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sprout-fics · 1 year

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Rotes Mädchen: Chapter 1

(Werewolf! König x Red Riding Hood! Reader)

(Art by the lovely @zwienzixes)

(Masterlist)

Word count: 3.5k Rating: PG-13 Tags: Werewolf! Konig, Fairytale AU, Monster Hunters TF141, Witch Laswell, Traditional German Fairytale setting, Price x Reader if you squint, F! Reader, Me making up lore for this series as I go Warnings: Mentioned gore and offscreen death A/N: Part 1 of a limited series with a unique take on a classic fairytale!

Things started changing after the October moon.

Small things at first. Farmers at the edge of the village started noticing their stables were disturbed overnight. Loose hay bales in the lofts, livestock skittish and nervous. Hunters reported deer and other game being hard to find. The animals in the forest started becoming scarce, quiet, as if the woods themselves were trying to silence themselves. These woods, the ones you knew, seemed to be harboring a horrible secret.

Soon it was the storehouses, the smoked meats and harvest tucked away from the brutal winter months being raided. You heard rumors in the village square of drifters, thieves that were lurking in the forest and planning to raid your little town.

Then the sightings began.

"Bigger than a stray dog." The village gossip had whispered to you. "By the northern pastures. Dark as night, gleaming eyes."

You had scoffed, rolled your eyes. A monster then, of course. It made sense in a little village like yours that people would instantly try and exaggerate, try to make their story seem grander than it was. Anything to break up the monotony of daily life in the countryside. Really, the thing as likely nothing more than a lone wolf, in search of a pack to join and wandered far beyond the realms of the ancient Black Forest to where it belonged.

Rumors began to fly. The thing was seen stalking sheep at sunset, when fog rolled through the glades and obscured shapes dancing at the edge of the woods. At midnight a hunter saw it dance beyond his lantern as he hiked to his cottage. A guard dog barked at a strange shadow in the middle of the night. A young girl saw it pause and look back at her, a bloodied hare hanging limp from its gleaming jaws.

You paid it no mind. You knew better by now than to indulge in fairytales. The wolf was an uncommon sight in these lands, but not entirely unusual. It wasn’t some strange omen as your neighbors had made it out to be, spooked by the low, golden, full moon on Hallows Eve. Soon enough the thing, the wolf, would migrate, move on from the area around the village and into the hills, and soon your neighbors would forget such a thing ever existed.

You thought that, at least, until one day a farmer's son was found dead at dusk, claw marks ripped through his chest and blood seeping into the dark, untendered soil upon which he lay.

A werewolf.

Or so they said, as you hovered with several other village girls outside the door of the tavern, where the village elders gathered in deep discussion. Your scarlet cloak did little to ward off the chill of oncoming frost, the shudder of dread at the thing that stalked the periphery of the village. The warm lantern light filtered through the cracks where you and the other young women gathered, casting in slants across your vision as the others around you hushed, pressing their ears flat so as to listen to the words of the wiser inside.

"We need to hunt it down."

"Form a group."

"But then who will watch the livestock?"

"The woods are too vast."

"It will pick us off like flies."

Through the cracks you could see her, Katherine. Known only as 'Laswell' by many, hands folded under her chin, grey eyes hard in contemplation. Her cloak hung heavy from her shoulders, muddied at the hem from her trek through the woods. Yet despite her journey she had arrived untouched, without so much as a scratch upon her. The others eyed her suspiciously for that, her strange immunity to the wolf that stalked the forest.

She was an interesting character, a woman who seemed to know far more than she let on. You once heard tales from a traveler of a goddess from a far land, grey eyed and wise, an owl perched on her shoulder as a sign of wisdom.

“Athena.” He had said in utter wonder, eyes blue like the Adriatic Sea. Yet where he described a woman with a plumed helmet draped in linen robes and holding a shield, you only saw Laswell with her grey, muted dresses and twinkling, knowing eyes. The others seemed to be suspicious of her knowledge, her craft, and yet now they turned to her for the very same, silent as she contemplated all she had heard. Yet unlike them you looked upon her with reverence, a wide, keen gaze that took in the rise of her chest as she raised her head, staring forward at the others.

"We shall call the Witchers."

The Witchers.

Monster hunters. You thought they were the stuff of legend, mercenaries who roamed the land in search of powerful prey, hunting down goblins and ghouls and creatures of the night. Born and raised by the silver blade, swift, cunning, strong, nearly invincible. The closest thing to a demi-god you'd ever heard of.

You shouldn't have been surprised Kate knew of them, with her glinting eyes and many mysterious secrets. The wise woman, they called her, the one who lived on the other side of the woods all by herself, and yet seemed to know more than the rest of the elders combined. It turned out Kate not only knew of the Witchers, but how to contact them.

Cost, she said, was no concern. For she knew the captain, an old friend, one who owed her a debt. If she called him, he would come.

And come he did, before the next moon.

You were in the village square when they arrived. There's chatter and then the sound of hooves, and the sudden motion of their arrival made the scarlet hem of your cape flutter in the breeze. On black horses who chuffed at the frigid autumn air, their withers looming over your height, a man with a beard, a cap and a grim gleam in his eyes stared down at you, flanked by three other riders. Brawny men, scarred, serious, emanating danger from their mere presence. You stare up at them in a mix of apprehension and awe, feeling the air shift around you, whisper a warning you don’t heed.

"We were summoned by Laswell." The man with the cap tells you with no introductions, not that any are needed. You know from the mere sight of them who the men are, with their ink dyed cloaks and silver blades, the dulled armor glinting in the scant afternoon sunlight. Soldiers, warriors, of a different breed. Ones who had earned their titles from years spent seeping their swords in black blood.

"On the other side of the forest." You reply to him unflinchingly, refusing to back down from his unwavering stare.

"Guide us." Is all he supplies in return, offering a single leather gloved palm down to your form. You eye it suspiciously, but at last place your smaller palm in his. With a jump and a hoist, you find yourself sat behind him as his steed nickers and shifts uncertainly under you. You clutch at his rider's cloak nervously for a moment, at which point a coy glance is spared your way, and you settle yourself, offering only a small, indignant silence in return.

"Go on then, Rotes Mädchen." Price encourages gruffly. "Lead us to our summoner."

You wonder then, briefly, if the summoner he mentions truly is a witch of the woods as he seems to suggest.

There's no time to ponder upon it, for as soon as you point Price urges his steed onwards and you are both off down the woodland paths, followed quickly behind by his three men. You surrender yourself to wrapping your arms around his middle in an effort to not fall off, the bumps and grooves of his armor digging into your skin as the troop rides through the forest fog and onwards to Kate's secluded home.

You arrive just as the sun sets. Mist clings to the clearing of the old mill where Laswell lives, shadows whispering at the edges of trees and the canopy growing dark with fading light. The ride is shorter than you expected, but by the end of your journey you feel your rump grow tender with the constant cantering pace that the captain urged his horse upon.

So you're surprised then, when Price slides down off his gelding and offers his hands to you, firmly holding you as your feet slide back to earth. It's a chivalrous gesture, one you thought was beyond a gruff, grim soldier such as the captain. Yet it is with surprising care that he allows you to descend from the saddle, straighten you as your feet wobble on earth.

Laswell greets you all at her doorstep, her thread picked shawl fluttering in the breeze as she ushers you all inwards without so much as a word. There's hardly any greetings, not until you are all settled close to her hearth, which glows bright and welcoming in the growing cold.

You gaze at the men around you from where you perch atop a stool, poking at the tender, licking flames. Body half turned away from them, you regard the strangers out of the corner of your eyes, taking in their dark cloaks and sheathed blades, the glint of their dulled, iron armor as it reflects the fire. There's an uneasy silence that hangs over the room, filled only by the shuffle of boots and low murmur of voices as Laswell vanishes into the direction of her bedroom.

When she emerges at last, there's a hushed, reverent silence that washes over the group, as if she commands attention with her mere presence. There's few words exchanged as she withdraws something small enough to fit into a palm, offers it to the man called Price. You catch a glimpse of it as it passes hands. A tuft of hair carefully wrapped in a cloth, something that looks like it belongs to an animal- dark, coarse, matted with blood.

Price turns it over in his hands, hums a rough, displeased sound.

"This happened during the half-moon?" He asks, voice a grinding sound in his chest, like smoke caught in a chimney.

"I know the signs, John." Kate replies, quieter, firm, grave. "I wouldn't have called you here otherwise."

You watch then, as Price's eyes slide from your friend to you. A silent question. A warning.

Kate only shakes her head. "She's safe." She tells him, and then turns to you herself. Two of the men instantly step aside to make way for her as she paces over, gently takes both your hands in hers to lift you from your chair.

"She picks herbs for me in the forest." Kate explains, voice gentler now as she's closer to you. "Brings me things from the village. She's a friend."

You turn your gaze from Kate, from her steel-eyed grey stare to the four men before you, shifting anxiously on your feet.

"Hello." You offer simply, voice quiet.

"That would explain the red cloak." The one with the quiver strapped to his back chuffs after a moment from where he sits on his chair, across the table. He nods at the cape that drapes behind you. "So hunters can spot you, right?"

You nod, swallowing and feeling your throat go dry as four witchers suddenly fix their gazes onto you. Their eyes rake over your form, and you suddenly feel as if their prey is not monsters, but you.

It's the man with the strange haircut that steps forward first, offering his hand with a grin that tugs to one side of his face.

"John." He tells you with an accent you can't place as you take his gloved hand in yours. "You can call me Soap."

What kind of name is that? You wonder silently and offer only your name in reply. His smirk broadens, and he turns to reveal his fellows.

"That archer there is Gaz." Soap tells you, and said man gives you a friendly, gentle wave from where he sits, face tugging into a smile. "But you can call him ‘dunderheid’ for the time he's spent falling out of trees."

"Twice." Gaz seethes, rubbing at his brow with mild irritation. "Only ever twice."

You hide a small laugh behind your hand, and then follow Soap's gaze to a figure standing in the dark corner of the room, freezing as your eyes land upon him.

A bone white mask. A curved beak. A pitch-dark stare that bores into your marrow.

Cold dread settles over your limbs, and you take an instinctive step back, closer to Kate to seek reassurance from the huge, looming stranger that occupies the shadows of the room.

A Poltergeist. Your mind whispers in horror.

Kate gently brushes her hand across your shoulder, and your eyes dart from her to the strange figure. Yet her smile is kind, gentle in the face of the phantom.

"Ah-" Soap supplies. "That's Ghost." He briefly turns to shoot the man a withering stare, to which the phantom only shrugs nonchalantly, as if unconcerned or perhaps bemused by your apprehension.

"Sorry, he's an odd fellow. Dannea mean you any harm. Spooks the hell out of us sometimes too."

You relax a little at Soap's jovial tone, shoulders going slack and a breath releasing from your chest. Ghost catches your eyes again, offers a silent, respectful nod before mercifully redirecting his stare elsewhere.

"-And of course, you've met our brave captain." Soap finishes, and you lift your eyes to Price, who leans near the door. You lock eyes from across the room, and blink at the scrutinizing weight of his stare. You wonder if he's been looking at you like that the whole time. Heavy. Fixated. Unwavering. Yet in this moment he gives you a slow, respectful nod, and as he raises his head his eyes take you in from the bottom up, coming once more to rest on your face.

"Kate." He says, and it isn't until a moment later that he breaks his stare with you. "We should discuss details. We only have two weeks before the next moon. if we don't hunt down the thing before then..." He trails off, and in the silence, the fire crackles, allowing your mind to fill in the void with ruinous images of destruction.

Kate nods, but instead of moving to discuss the issue at hand she turns to the hearth, reaches for the pot hanging above the fire.

"We shall." She declares with a sigh, and the lid comes way to reveal a simmering stew. "But first you shall all eat, and bathe. You smell like horse manure."

---

It's well past dark by the time you rise to leave. The evening is spent crowded around Kate's table, Gaz and Soap bumping elbows and exchanging good-natured insults with the occasional comment from Price and Kate. They push each other aside to regale you with stories of their hunts, of times spent in distant corners of the kingdoms pursuing creatures you couldn't dare to imagine. After the meal is over Price sits back in his chair and withdraws a pipe, stuffs it with tobacco and idly listens to the conversation. You watch him from the corner of your eyes, eyes tracing the smoke that billows past his lips like dragon’s breath.

Kate watches on with a smile. There's a fondness in her eyes you rarely see. It takes you a moment to realize she regards these men as family, the younger of them as her sons, of their captain as a friend, an ally. There's a history there you don't fully recognize, one you want to pull on the thread of and watch it unravel. Yet you know it's far too soon. There’s many things you’ve yet to learn about your friend, and this secret among these will only be revealed with the passage of time.

There's questions you want to ask, things you thirst to know. How does Kate know these men? Why do they turn to her with such reverence and respect? Why does the captain trust her word with few, if any questions? Just how much does Kate know for these men to come to her aid so quickly?

Such things will have to wait, for you yawn and rise to reach for your cloak. You pause to offer a brief goodnight to the men at the table, who in turn offer theirs. Yet before you make it to the door there's a hand that settles gently on the handle before you can touch it.

"Allow me." A smoky voice grumbles at you, and you turn into the eyes of Price, who tilts his head down at you to better regard your blinking, wide-eyed expression.

"The woods are dangerous, love." He murmurs low between the two of you, words laden with caution. "Especially now, at night."

Especially for a woman like you.

Normally, you'd excuse yourself, tell him you know the woods like the back of your hand. There is nothing within them you aren't familiar with. Every rise and dip of the gulches, every hollow and rotting oak tree- they are mapped within your mind. The woods raised you, kept you safe. They won't betray you, not even to a monster.

Yet you allow yourself to be escorted anyways, deciding not to test your trust of the forest in the face of a creature of the night. Price helps you onto his horse before rising himself, and rather than canter in the direction of town he chooses instead to walk quietly so you can listen to the owl in the trees, the rustle of foxes in the underbrush.

You talk. Quiet conversation. Words not meant to disturb the sanctity of the forest at the midnight hour. You ask Price about his men, how he met them, learn more about the strange hunters who have entered your village. He tells you about how he began as an inquisitor, hunting witches, before he met Kate. He tells you how she helped him save Ghost from a cult, how they weren't soon enough, and now the man is forced to bear a curse that has left his face a horrifying scar of itself. He tells you how he oversaw Soap and Gaz's training, saw them find their best skills and hone them until they themselves were living weapons.

You listen to the quiet but sure pride in his voice as he tell you of his men, of the things they've done. You leech warmth from his back as the road passes under you, form rocking atop his horse, head nodding downwards as fatigue begins to overtake you.

Then, down the path, a branch snaps.

It sounds like the impact of an axe against wood, ringing sharply out into the forest. Your head shoots up immediately, arms clinging tighter to Price's back as he too stiffens, voice cutting into silence as you both listen.

A rustle.

You feel your heart beat at your chest like a tiny, trapped bird, fluttering and frantic as you peer past Price-

-and see the huge, mammoth shadow hiding in the mist.

Taller than you both atop Price’s draft horse, a silhouette that seems to blot out the light of the moon itself. Dark, coarse fur the same as Kate’s relic, and the smell- of something wild, untamed, of rotting carrion and a thing that has no place in the forest you called home.

You freeze, feeling the icy grip of dread wash over you, pinned beneath the stare of glowing, yellow eyes that latch onto your form huddled behind the witcher in front of you.

A growl.

Price's horse whinnies then, shrill as it rears in the face of the strange shadow. You scream just as loud as you nearly lose your balance, gripping tightly to the captain as you begin to slide backwards in the saddle.

"Hold tight!" Price bellows at you as his steed comes down, hooves beating against the forest path. Within moments you and Price are bolting down the path atop his horse, hooves thundering into the night as you wrap your arms securely around his middle. You shake, clutching onto him with a bruising grip, eyes glassy as your mind replays the image of what you've seen.

Taller than any man, a huge, lumbering thing. Its arms too long, ears standing atop its furry head, huge spine hunched forward as a pair of gleaming, yellow eyes gaze at you from the trees. Fangs snarl at you in the confines of your mind, and you feel yourself caught between yellowed teeth as the thing crunches down in a killing blow. You think for a moment you hear the sounds of it giving chase above the rapid echo of your own terror, and despite yourself you venture a gaze behind you as Price’s horse thunders down the misty midnight path towards the safety of the village.

You see just a glimpse of it from beyond your fluttering red cape, a shadow that dwarfs your thoughts, a gaze that fixates on you from afar, seeming to promise ‘Soon, little maiden. Soon.’

A werewolf.

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kisakis-boyfriend · 6 months

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Kinktober Day 22: Tentacles + Overstimulation

Pairings: Ran x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, Eldritch god!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Ran, tentacle fucking, overstimulation, sorcerer AU, college AU

Genre/Format: Smut; Oneshot

Prompt List by: sakuyaserenitykira 🧡

Author's Note: This takes place in the same AU as the one from the day 6 prompt with Inui. Though the reader is a different supernatural being and this is set 100s of years later

The prologue is pretty plot-heavy, and the whole thing is much longer than I intended for it to be. But I think it's worth it <3

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

Ran Haitani's boredom has landed him in some rather unfortunate situations before, including a couple trips to the hospital. Never in a million years did he predict that he'd end up in this particular situation though...

It all started with a leather bound book hidden within the library's basement. Ran had snuck in there a few days ago in a fit of boredom, mainly searching for some hidden porn stash that he assumed would be down there. To his dismay, no such thing existed. What he did find was an old, dusty book with several symbols etched into the leather cover. Cocking a brow in curiosity, he shoved the book under his jacket and left in a hurry, the fantasy of finding some ancient spell book or magical journal ran rampant in his mind, though deep down he knew that those things didn't exist

Later that day, he flipped through the pages in secret, locking himself inside of his dorm room and quickly becoming engrossed with the content between the papers. It was filled with what looked like legitimate spells and...summoning spells? This concept intrigued him more than anything else written in the book. Skimming through the different summoning rituals, he landed on one that piqued his curiosity greatly. “Warning: Careless summoning of The Immortal Unknown (praise be to him) could result in a catastrophe that will destroy humankind as we know it. DO NOT ATTEMPT UNLESS AN EXTREMELY EXPERIENCED SORCERER” was scribbled on a sticky note. The modern dialect was a stark contrast to the ‘Medieval speak’, as Ran called it, that the book was composed of

“Hmph. Like this crap is even real.” Ran scoffed, slamming the book shut and hiding it under his pillow. Promptly flopping onto the soft sheets to settle in for a nap, wrapping a soft blanket around his body and soon descending into the realm of dreams

Ran's eyes fluttered open, panic quickly sinking in as he realized that he was underwater. Unfamiliar ruins and sunken ships were scattered around the ocean floor. In front of him was a cave, unfathomably massive and pitch black inside. He gulped as he stared into the abyss, his eyes burning from the salt water surrounding him as he was unable to look at anything else, his stare transfixed on the cavern before him. As a deep rumble shook the entire ground, the abyss seemed to stare back as a pair of large red orbs lit up, glowing and yet casting no light onto the cave's walls

Every last cell in Ran's body tried to move, to swim away from whatever the hell this thing was. Yet he remained immobile, floating effortlessly in the cold waters as the orbs stared through his puny being. Then, in a split second, a growl echoed and whatever creature had been concealed within the black shadows of the cave suddenly lunged forward. It's form revealed in an instant, but not long enough for Ran to process what he actually saw as he immediately sat up in his bed, gasping for air

Sweat spilled down his forehead while his heart raced uncomfortably, a strange sense of dread filled his mind. This feeling compelled him to walk over to the window that pointed out towards the ocean just across from the college campus, a shiver crawling up his spine as he stared outside, almost in a trance. Ran swallowed dryly, wiping the sweat from his brow and turning to sit on the edge of the bed, switching his bedside lamp on with a shaky hand. He glanced back towards his pillow, suddenly remembering what was hidden beneath the soft cushion. Shaking his head, he stood up and grabbed a snack from his stash, swiftly devouring the food before tossing the wrapper onto his desk. Then hesitantly returning to bed, seeing as his nap lasted several hours into the night already. ‘Might as well go back to sleep.’ He thought to himself, crawling under the covers properly and soon drifting off once more

The next few days went by normally, save for a bit of paranoia and spacing out the morning after his strange dream. Hanging out with his younger brother and their friends mostly took his mind off of the dumb book and weird dream, laughing at various things and discussing their plans for the big Halloween party that was only two nights away

Though, the closer that the holiday approached, the more compelled Ran felt to actually perform the strange ritual with the warning note. I mean, it's not like anything will happen, right? Magic and summoning ancient gods or whatever, that's all fake shit. Nothing's gonna happen. At least, that's what Ran told himself. Concocting up a plan on how and where this is going to go down as he dashed back to his dorm room to study the ritual again

He settled on performing the ritual on Halloween night for reasons that he couldn't quite place, though he didn't bother to question why as he was far too caught up in making sure that everything would go perfectly. Already thinking of an excuse as to why he would have to ditch the party and stay in his room all night long. “I'm sick.” Ran said aloud, the idea coming to him naturally. He'd just pretend to be too sick to go out that night. It was perfect!

After hours spent studying the pages of the book and brainstorming every step of his master plan, Ran had everything he needed set up for this night to go off without a hitch. Snatching his phone from the bed, he quickly texted his brother explaining his ‘predicament’

Sent at 3:47 - Hey dude

Sent at 3:47 - I feel like shit rn. Think I caught a stomach bug or something

Sent at 3:47 - Gonna have to skip the party 😔

Sent at 3:49 - What? Seriously?

Sent at 3:49 - We never miss these things

Sent at 3:50 - U need anything? Everyone will be out ya know

Sent at 3:51 - Yeah I know

Sent at 3:51 - I'm so mad

Sent at 3:52 - But I can't even make it out of bed rn

Sent at 3:52 - Jeez

Sent at 3:53 - Just wanna sleep it off

Sent at 3:53 - Party extra hard for me ok?

Sent at 3:53 - Tell Izana I said sorry for missing his party

Sent at 3:54 - 😭😭😭

Sent at 3:54 - Sure thing

Sent at 3:54 - Hope u feel better

Sent at 3:55 - Thanks 👍

Yes! Perfect! Now that Ran was successfully exempt from having to leave the dorm, he would have plenty of time to prepare this ‘summoning circle’ that the ritual called for. With a few substitutions of course, since the actual spell called for all of these strange herbs and crystals and shit. Ran opted to use whatever supplies were available to him. Which resulted in a crude symbol on the floor created with pens, highlighters, notebooks, snack wrappers, and whatever else he could find. It's not real anyways, who cares what the thing is made of?

As nighttime approached the sounds of heavy footfall could be heard around the building, signaling the departure of nearly every student as they left to either join the most popular Halloween party, or hang out with a couple of close friends and watch horror movies

Taking a deep breath, Ran read the contents one last time, beginning the ritual by laying down in the center of the summoning circle. Next came the chant, which he comically mispronounced seeing as it was written in Latin and he was unfamiliar with the language. After finishing said chant, he tossed the book out of the circle and waited

There was a strange sense of excitement to this. While Ran didn't really believe in magic or demons or any of the legends passed around the campus, the prospect of finding an ancient book that could prove all of his doubts wrong was... thrilling. He wanted something to prove him wrong, wanted to have a supernatural experience just for the hell of it. Somewhere deep in his heart, he wanted to believe in all of those things. And as his eyes closed, sighing in boredom, something peered up at the young man laying in the middle of this symbol. It's form slowly rising from the ground in silence....

“And what do we have here?” A velvety voice said, peering at the human with glowing red eyes. Ran immediately jolting awake at the sound of someone else's voice in his closed room. Upon seeing your form, he scrambled to sit up and back away, hitting the side of his bed

“What the hell are you?!” He shouted, fear washing over his features as his eyes scanned your body. Your eye twitched at the rude question, scoffing at him and retorting, “I am The Immortal Unknown, but you, rude creature, may call me Y/n.”

Ran stared at you in disbelief, you were so close to appearing as a normal human...ok maybe not that close. The several large, red tentacles sticking out from behind you did kind of shatter that illusion... As did the glowing red eyes, needle sharp teeth, and strange echoing voice

“Tell me, dear human, for what reason have you summoned me tonight? And what compelled you to create my hallowed circle out of disgusting plastic...? Do you even know who I am?” You sneered, fangs flashing when the light of the candles illuminating the room hit them

“Are we playing 20 questions? What does it matter what your stupid circle is made out of? You showed up anyways.” The sarcastic comment made your blood boil, a scowl quickly gracing your lips as you stepped towards him

“Insolent fool. My domain is situated in the ocean, the same place your kin have decided to dump your filthy garbage.” You began, taking another heavy step forward while your tentacles writhed behind you. “You pollute MY habitat and then dare to mock me by summoning me with that same garbage?! Incompetent cretin. I should rend your weak flesh from your bones right this second.” In an instant several tentacles shot towards Ran, wrapping tightly around his limbs and torso, one of them squeezing his throat as he was lifted into the air before you

“Sh-shit–!! R-relax...'s not like I expected that dumb spell to even work...how was i supposed to know I'd summon a fish?!” Your jaw practically dropped to the floor, eyes widening in disbelief at such a disrespectful display. The tentacles suspending his body tightened painfully, if you hadn't been holding back they surely would have snapped his bones by now

“Your kind used to be much more respectful. I recall a time when your people worshipped me, and rightfully so. Don't tell me this is how you treat your deities these days?” You crossed your arms as you stared down the human, enjoying his pained gasps and struggling

“Maybe if you weren't so arrogant....ow fuck...maybe someone would give a shit about you.” At this point you had heard enough, sending another tentacle towards him, but this time shoving it right down his throat. An action that caused him to immediately gag and writhe around within your grasp, shaking his head while the appendage caused his mouth to stretch around its large circumference. You smirked at the display, tilting your chin up triumphantly

What happened next was quite different from what you anticipated. As the slimy tentacle ungulated within his wet cavern, Ran moaned around it, his eyes rolling back while his tongue moved against the appendage hungrily. You blinked in surprise at the strange display, cocking your head to the side in mild amusement. Quite an interesting turn of events...

“Oh. I see, you're one of those humans.” Ran quirked a brow at your statement, still attempting to deepthroat your tentacle. “I used to have a number of followers like you. They begged for me to grant them the kind of pleasure that only a god could grant them.” You explained, your voice becoming sultry and sending shivers up Ran's spine. “They worshipped me like no other could, allowing me access to every inch of their being. I claimed their bodies as mine, driving them to the brink of insanity with pleasure.” Suddenly, your voice echoed within Ran's mind, simultaneously appearing to come from directly behind him as if you were whispering into his ears. “Then when they finally broke, I claimed their very souls, which they happily gave away to me in exchange for the mind-numbing ecstasy.”

Ran's back arched at your haunting declaration, moaning louder as the tentacle slid in deeper. “I can see it in your eyes, little one. You're scared, but you want that too, don't you?” His lust-filled eyes met yours, batting his pretty lashes at you as if to say ‘yes, I want that’

Chuckling at his desperation darkly, you had the tentacles swiftly remove his clothing, discarding it onto the floor before allowing another tentacle to pleasure him, making it shift from its position around his torso to prodding at his ass. Ran's eyes flew open at the feeling, his body jerking as a reflex while the tentacle oozed a thick substance onto his entrance, rubbing it all around the area and coating itself in it before pushing in. The pain from the initial penetration felt subdued, with only a slight burn from the stretch as the appendage intruded his hole, thrusting itself in and out until it was buried within him

“Hmph. You're doing well so far, human. I must say, I am a bit impressed.” You said, forcing both tentacles to push in far deeper, creating a bulge in Ran's throat from the intrusion. His breathing increased as the slimy limbs began thrusting quickly, ignoring the way he gagged or how tightly his little throat was constricting around them, until they shot thick fluid directly into his stomach

His body spasmed in the air while his insides were flooded with the liquid, already feeling the weight in his stomach from how much was pumped into him. The two tentacles retracted and he coughed immediately once his mouth was free, some of the liquid coming up in the process. “Oh god...aah...” Ran shivered, still a bit hazy from the rough treatment

“Oh sweetheart, you are enjoying this.” You purred, commanding a third tentacle to flick his hard member and earning a jolt from the sudden contact. His cock soon became enveloped within the tentacle's grasp, wrapping around his length several times and stroking him until he was fully erect. The tip of your tentacle slithered upwards until it reached his cock head, squishing and wiggling itself against his tip, which caused Ran to cry out shrilly

This treatment continued for several minutes until you were able to sense his incoming release, promptly stuffing his holes once more. Another loud cry muffled by the appendage sliding down his esophagus while the one buried inside of his ass fucked him roughly, forcing its way in much deeper than before and thickening in girth while it was inside. Within a few more minutes, the thick tentacles came inside of him again, spilling another round of gooey cum in his stomach, so much so that it bulged from the amount of fluid in there

Ran reached his limit soon after, spraying his own cum on his chest and the tentacle currently jacking him off. His hips jerked violently while his orgasm overtook him, moaning all the while. After they finished unloading inside of him, the tentacles retreated once again, leaving him with a sense of emptiness that elicited a whine from him. Except for the one still jerking off his sensitive cock, that one continuously pleasured him even while he wailed from overstimulation

Seeing your prey so fucked out like this had you worked up too, seeing as the large tentacle dick concealed within your pants writhed around wildly. Groaning in annoyance, you pulled the appendage out and stroked yourself, your large human-like hand barely wrapping around the thing. “Mm you have...truly impressed me, human. Haaah...mmph–!!” You moaned in between praises, twisting your wrist while you stroked your alien-looking cock. “Most humans would tap out after the second round, but you...yeess~ You crave something more, hm? Something... bigger? ”

A wave of desire flashed in Ran's eyes, craning his head to look at you while you touched yourself across from him. Soft squelching noises emanating from where your hand met your dick, the tip oozing the equivalent of precum. Ran choked out something akin to begging, his throat incredibly sore from your harsh treatment so far, “Pl-ease...yes...aaahh...”

You'd be lying if you said you didn't want this too, after all it had been hundreds of years since a single follower had summoned you. Much longer since you had been summoned for this. Your cock ached to be buried within a fragile human's tight walls, splitting them open and fucking away their sanity with every thrust. Just the thought of this caused you to involuntarily lick your lips, impossibly sharp teeth peeking through as you did so. Ran stared at you the whole time, turned on by every new detail that he discovered

He gulped when your eyes snapped to his, a dangerous lust hidden behind them as they shined in the dimly lit room. Grabbing his waist with your hands delicately, you lined your cock up with his hole, searching his eyes for any sign of disagreement. Finding none, you plunged inside, stretching his tight hole farther than any human had been stretched before. Ran's hands balled into fists as he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, the simultaneous sensations of your monster dick prying him open and the slimy tentacle working his cock had him reeling from pleasure. His head fell back, hanging limply while you fucked him open, until your hand grabbed the back of it and lifted him back up, forcing him to look at your expressions as you railed his slim body

“So tight...yet you're still able to take all of my cock...good boy~ ” The growl caused Ran to tremble, feeling impossibly submissive as the night went on. With one sharp thrust, you managed to bury yourself to the hilt, moaning shamelessly as he clenched around you. Your long tongue lolled out, drool dripping from the end as you fucked Ran's ass deeply. Rolling your hips into him and brushing against his prostate, causing him to whine and push his head against your hand harder

“Dear human, you never had the chance to tell me your name. Won't you tell me now?” You asked sweetly, ravaging his hole the entire time. His body greedily accepting the whole thing

“It's Ran...H-Haitani...ah! Aaahh fuck...” Ran exclaimed when your hips snapped into him suddenly, panting heavily from the way your dick glided in and out of his hole. The name ringing in your ears for a moment while you contemplated it

“Ran...how lovely. You are aware that there's no going back after tonight, yes Ran?” You explained, leaning closer to his sweet face. “Even if you refuse to make a pact with me, to become my worshipper, the thought of submitting to me will never leave your mind. It will plague every second of your pathetic life.” A low growl rumbled within your chest, teasing the human cruelly. Though you weren't actually lying, he didn't know that, all he knew was that he needed your cock to stay inside of him and fill him up until he stopped thinking

Letting his head go, you slid that same hand down to his hips, thrusting deeper due to the better leverage. His moans filled the small room while you railed him eagerly, releasing your tentacles' grip on his legs so that he could wrap them around your torso. Which he did weakly, most of the strength in his legs had left him after being fucked multiple times. “Human... I'm very close...but–” You paused, hips stilling inside of his wet hole as he whined. “I want you. Too much time has passed since I had any loyal followers to worship me, so I want you to be mine~”

Ran stared at you quizzically, suddenly nervous at the idea. Yet something inside of him screamed at him to agree, craving you from somewhere deep down within his soul. “Make a pact with me. Give yourself over to me and I will give you everything you have ever wanted, little one. How about it?” Laying your hand on his stomach, you gazed at him expectantly as you awaited an answer. He tossed the question around in his mind for a moment, but just as the gravity of the question settled in you began thrusting again. Your thick cock erased any rational thought, replacing it with an unfathomable sense of desire

As you slammed into his ass, Ran gasped out his answer, “Ah! Yes...yes yes yesyesyesyes—!! I'll do whatever you want...j-just don't stop—!! ” He shouted, rolling his hips against yours in an attempt to take you deeper. His own release inching closer while you fucked him brainless

“Very good...” You purred, creating a seal on his skin. The same symbol that was lazily recreated on Ran's floor, a mark signaling to any other creatures that the item marked by this seal belonged to you. The mark burned into his skin painfully, a glowing blue inky substance etched into his flesh that forever bound the human to you

“Darling, mmm~ Cum for me. ” You growled, your own orgasm hitting you as your body stiffened, releasing an impossible amount of cum within his warm walls. Ran came just after, shooting his cum all over your hand and the seal that you created on his delicate flesh. The milky fluid acts somewhat as a stamp, effectively sealing the contract created between you and your new follower

Ran soon went limp, panting heavily while your cock finished unloading inside of him. You stayed like this for a minute, rubbing at the new seal with your thumb. All of his nerves felt raw around the area, each little touch and wisp of air that brushed against it caused him to whine and tremble. You slowly and carefully pulled out of him, being as gentle as you really could with the fragile thing. He whimpered when you had fully unsheathed yourself, already missing the stretch of your fat length

Scooping the slender human up in your arms and releasing your tentacles' grip on him, you carried him to his bed. Allowing him to finally rest after nearly breaking him, though he might have enjoyed that too, now that you think about it... nevertheless, you tucked the little thing under the covers and brushed your knuckles against his cheek, whispering a “See you soon, little one.” into his ears before returning to your domain

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

Tagging: @anxious-chick @steadybreadbluebird @6kabuki

#my writing #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #ran haitani #ran haitani smut #ran x reader #male reader #dom reader #top reader #sorcerer au #college au #sub ran #oneshot #terato

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dolldefiler · 3 months

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[I posted this on Reddit initially. I figured Tumblr would enjoy it as well.]

“Dr Raj will see you now.”

The smooth, pleasant voice of the receptionist put a stop to Lucy’s descent into that realm of dark thoughts. She looked up to see her warm, polite smile. Her fake smile. Doubtless, this innocent-looking secretary knew exactly what Dr Raj was making her feel. And yet she did nothing to stop it.

“Thank you,” Lucy said, slowly getting up, shuffling towards the office, her breath losing its evenness with each small step. By the time she’d made her way to the door, her breath was ragged in anticipation of what lay beyond. Turning her head back, she saw the receptionist’s face plastered with the same polite, unfeeling smile back at her. She entered the office.

The office was small. Very small. A desk, a chair, and a sofa large enough to fit two people, barely. There were no windows here, the only light being a single unshaded bulb casting a flickering warmth into the room. Neither walls nor the desk were particularly decorated, dull and neutral. The room was hot, almost like a sauna, and in the background, a low buzzing sound could be heard. This was closer to a closet than a room. Moreso a torture chamber than a therapist’s office.

And sat upon that chair was the man she’d been dreading to meet. Dr Raj. He was ageless and plain-faced, not a person that would be easily noticed. He seemed unconcerned by the heat and claustrophobic room, beckoning her to sit down on the sofa.

She sunk into the sofa, her heart thumping.

“Hello, Lucy, how have you been?” Dr Raj smiled broadly, as if last week had been a dream. A nightmare. He always did this. He’d start with a flawless sense of professionalism and charisma that’d ease you in, and tempt you into lowering your guard. And then when the moment came, he’d turn on you. Tear at those insecurities you’d exposed to him. She endured the small talk, drawing out each answer, knowing how futile it all was. The moment came.

“Now, shall we get started?” Dr Raj asked, his smile never faltering. Sensing her hesitation, he squinted. “What’s wrong, Lucy?”

Lucy panicked. All thoughts of pushing back, resisting, fleeing her. “W-well, it’s just that… Do we have to do it like this? Telling you every detail of… everything.” Even she could tell how much her voice trembled. She couldn’t help it. Fear and anxiety gnawed at her.

Dr Raj peered at her over the rim of his glasses. Perhaps it was her imagination but a streak of annoyance flashed across his face. And then his face relaxed into one a little more comforting. Relaxing. Kind. Gentle. “Lucy, we’ve spoken about this, haven’t we? You need to get this out of your system. You need to be brave again, for me.”

Lucy nodded, knowing if she spoke, they’d both know how terrified she was. Dr Raj smiled his pleasant smile at her. “Now I believe you were going to tell me what happened after your evening at the nightclub.”

Lucy’s gut sank as she recalled that dreadful night. The heat of the room felt heavy on her as her breath faltered slightly. Dr Raj sat patiently, his smile unceasing. “Right… I left the club at around midnight. My house is about fifteen minutes away, so I thought it would be fine. There’s this dark alleyway near the club which cuts off about five minutes, so I thought I’d be fine taking that but-... But…”

The humiliation rushed back to her. The memory of it all. The masked man appearing from the shadows pinning her down and clamping a sweaty hand over her mouth. The nasty words that had been whispered furiously into her ears, the-.

She sensed the therapist get out of his chair and sit next to her. There wasn’t nearly enough room for the both of them, so their legs were pressed against each other’s. She felt a hand touch her shoulder, patting her worries away. She hated it.

“There, there, Lucy. What happened next?” Dr Raj’s voice cut off her thoughts. His voice was smooth and even, contrasting the low, constant buzz of the heater or generator or whatever it was. Lucy collected herself, pausing for a minute to regain her voice.

“But then a man appeared. I thought he’d just walk past me. He didn’t. I didn’t realise what was happening until there was a hand on my throat and another on my mouth. I couldn’t even scream.” Lucy could feel his hand patting away at her shoulder, almost rhythmically.

Her fists were balled up, her body tense. That night was the worst she’d felt in her entire life. The way some man had stolen her dignity from her. Ripped it away from her, as if she truly deserved no happiness to begin with. She’d never wish it upon her worst enemy… So then why was she so aware of Dr Raj right now? Every pat gave her a jolt of some unfamiliar, tingling energy… And she didn’t know what to do with that.

“He must have noticed how pretty you are. What were you wearing?”

He’d called her pretty… She felt so dirty, so alone, so utterly stained, yet here a man was calling her pretty! Some small part of her knew that he was a pig underneath that insincere smile. A monster that thrived off her suffering. But she chose to ignore it. Because it felt better this way. “I was wearing a crop top and a miniskirt,” she mumbled.

“You were wearing such provocative clothes. I know this might upset you, but did you consider you dressed like that to attract a man’s attention?”

Lucy could hear her heart beat louder and faster. Was this her fault? If she’d worn something less revealing, would she have been left unscathed? She didn’t want to be raped. Nobody did. Right?

“But perhaps it wasn’t the way you dressed. Could you show me how short they were?”

Lucy looked at him, confused. How was she to show him how short they were? And then she felt it. She looked down and saw his hand press against her thighs. She froze, unable to breathe for a moment. She could feel her eyes water up, as she looked down at his warm hand. His fingers were wrapped tightly around her thighs, his thumb almost caressing her. In the background she could hear him coaxing her, telling her to breathe.

When she finally managed to draw in a jagged breath, he looked at her, his warm smile ignoring the tears in her eyes, the heat of the room, and the constant, fucking buzzing. The room was far too small. There was hardly any room for a single person in this closet, let alone two. And yet she didn’t take his hand off her. She didn’t even resist it.

“Was it shorter than this?” Dr Raj asked. Lucy nodded her head, her eyes closed to hold back the tears. Why was it always her? Could they sense how weak she was? How frail and vulnerable she was? How easy to manipulate she was? She felt his hand draw further up her thigh, the tips of his fingers getting precariously closer to her groin. To her hot, wet pussy.

“About here?”

Lucy nodded. The patting stopped. She felt his arm wrap itself around her waist, his wandering hand making its way to her midriff, just underneath her chest. She shuddered. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t stop this. Her body was putty in his hands, soft and relaxed on the comfortable sofa. She hated this so much. She hated Dr Raj, her rapist, and especially herself, she could almost throw up. So why was her needy cunt so fucking wet?

He knew exactly what he was doing when he asked her the same question about her crop top, his hand eventually grazing her boobs. There she was, sat in some stranger’s office with his hands all over her. She’d let this happen again. She truly was pathetic. Perhaps, this was always meant to be.

Dr Raj’s voice came in whispers, soft and teasing. “And then what happened? Did he touch you? Drive his penis into your vagina?”

Lucy couldn’t suppress the tears any longer. She nodded. “He called me an attention-seeking whore. A dumb rapeslut that was going to get what she deserved. I felt a hand under my top, fondling my chest… My tits… And then something pressed against my pussy.”

Before she knew it, she was inching her way into his hands, her desperate cunt craving for the touch of a man that wasn’t disgusted with her. It was hard to care about her dignity anymore. Hadn’t it been raped away that night anyway?

“Oh? Did he touch you like this?” His hand rose from her midriff, and with practised ease, slipped under her top, sliding directly onto her tits. “You’ve not worn a bra. Perhaps you really are an attention-seeking cockslut.”

Lucy’s body wracked with silent, heavy sobs, as she looked down at his groping, lecherous hand under her top, violating her as she’d been violated that night. His hand was hot on her skin. Her head spun, light-hearted from his touch. She looked up at him. His kind smile had never left his face. This was the face of the devil himself. She nodded her head.

“He… Didn’t last long. I can’t remember it. Not really. Just a few thrusts… and it was over.”

But it was enough to make her question her own humanity. She felt his hand slide up her thigh and slip under her jeans. She couldn’t hold back her moan as his fingers met her aching cunt. A hole, she now knew, was made for dick. She heard his voice again.

“But that’s all that mattered, isn’t it? That he came in the end. It doesn’t matter how short it was. All that mattered is that he was satisfied and drained.”

She sobbed and nodded. Again. She couldn’t deny this man. Even if she hated him.

“Look at my lap, Lucy.”

His throbbing tent was hard to miss.

“Take it out.”

She didn’t struggle or argue or resist. This is the best she could hope for. At least he was telling her what he wanted her to do. Her trembling hand reached his zipper, slowly pulling it down before fishing his thick, brown cock out. Like his hands, it felt so warm, so alive in her hand. She hated it. She wanted to yank it off and eat it. She wanted this to end.

“Jerk it, you little rapetoy. We both know you need this.”

She wanted this to end. But she stroked his dick anyway. Some twisted satisfaction rose within her as he groped and molested her body. As she let her hand slide up and down his erect cock.

“Faster, you whore. You should always strive to help a man cum. Grip my cock and fucking jerk me off like the nasty slut I know you really are.” She could no longer cry. Perhaps she’d run out of tears. Perhaps she didn’t care. Perhaps she couldn’t care anymore. They sat there for a few minutes, silently fingering and stroking each other. Acting as lovers, when in reality there was only a monster and its prey.

She could hardly feel his fingers, the blood rushing from her head. She could only focus on his twitching cock. The warmth between her fingers. Her painfully hot body. And then with a slight groan, thick, warm cum spilled out from his cock, coating her fingers. She sat there, his dick in his hands still. Her eyes were probably vacant. Lucy was no longer there, not really. Only the empty shell of a human being remained. Only a piece of meat made for rape and abuse remained.

She felt him push her hand to her mouth, telling her to clean it up. She complied. He tasted salty. Disgusting. Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered.

“You can pay at the reception. I’ll see you next week.”

Dr Raj had seen her.

And he’d destroyed her without losing that sickly smile.

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mononijikayu · 1 month

Text

happy together ─ geto suguru and gojo satoru

As you observed the intimate exchange between them, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading in your heart. Your love was palpable, radiating from their gaze and enveloping you in its comforting embrace. It was a reminder that amidst the uncertainty and challenges of life, the love shared between kindred souls could serve as a beacon of hope and solace. If there was any possibility to split a soul into three, perhaps it was born into life just for you. You were each other’s fate, come what may. That’s what you think. You know that they wouldn’t have it any other way either. Life made sense when you were happy together. And now you are.

GENRE: Hidden Inventory Arc - Shinjuku Showdown Arc, 2006/2007 - 2018;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Humor, Romance, Afterlife, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Character Death, Mention of Grief, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Fluff, Mild Angst, Pining, Reunion, House of Three;

masterlist

kayu's playlist, side 400;

listen: happy together by the turtles

note: i speed-wrote this because i had some time while i took a break from doing my school work. i love this one, you guys. cause they finally realized they should be a throuple!!! anyway, installment one done!!! enjoy it you guys!!! i love you <333

WAKING UP WAS QUITE AN EXPERIENCE. As consciousness flooded back into your senses, you could feel your entire body jolt with a sudden shock, gasping for air as your eyes snapped open, wide with alarm. It was as if you had been yanked back from the brink of oblivion, returning to the realm of the living from where you had lain, motionless.

Beads of sweat dotted your temples, evidence of the intense ordeal you had just endured, while short, ragged breaths escaped your lips in quick succession, reminiscent of a runner finishing a grueling marathon. A chill ran down your spine, sending shivers rippling through your body, and you couldn't help but purse your lips as you sat in the eerie stillness that surrounded you.

Perched on the cold, unforgiving metal benches, you made a conscious effort not to lose your balance; after all, you were already prone to clumsiness. Amidst the disorienting haze that clouded your mind, one thought echoed louder than the rest: what was happening? It was a question that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, filling you with an overwhelming sense of dread and confusion.

As your eyes slowly begin to adjust to the glaring light assaulting them, you find yourself struggling to make sense of your surroundings. Every movement you make seems to flow effortlessly, your Jujutsu uniform clinging to your form, the bright yellow hoodie swaying gently against the back of your neck with each subtle shift. Squinting against the harsh brightness, your brow furrows in a gesture of discomfort before you finally manage to lift your gaze, revealing the source of the intense illumination: those bright, beaming lights overhead. A low growl of frustration rumbles silently in your throat, but you force yourself to look away, tenderly massaging your sensitive eyes in an attempt to ease the discomfort.

Yet, as you blink and open your eyes once more, a sudden realization strikes you like a bolt of lightning. Those lights—there's something undeniably familiar about them. In fact, they feel more familiar to you than you would have ever dared to hope. Casting your gaze around the vast expanse before you, you take in the massive glass windows, the endless rows of metal benches mirroring the one you occupy. Above, the wide expanding upper floors look like a circular maze, the long white columns stretching towards the heavens. Bright signs adorned with directional arrows point the way to terminal gates, their bold letters beckoning travelers onward.

Your mouth falls slightly agape, rendered speechless by the bewildering scene unfolding before you. Thoughts whirl through your mind in a chaotic frenzy. "Huh?" you inwardly mumble to yourself, confusion clouding your thoughts. "Why am I in Okinawa again?"

As you attempted to rise to your feet, a wave of dizziness washed over you, causing the room to spin alarmingly. "Too fast," you chastised yourself inwardly, recognizing the consequence of your sudden movement. The sensation of disorientation only intensified as you took in your surroundings—an empty, eerily silent airport devoid of any signs of life. This wasn't at all how you remembered Naha Airport from your previous visit with Satoru and Suguru, accompanied by Kuroi and Riko. Back then, it had been a bustling hub of activity, teeming with excited travelers eager to explore the exotic wonders of Okinawa or reluctant city-dwellers bidding farewell to the island paradise.

Your lips pressed together in a thin line as you made your way toward the expansive window, the view beyond revealing a grounded plane sitting desolately on the tarmac, devoid of any passengers or activity. Confusion gnawed at the edges of your mind as you struggled to piece together the fragmented puzzle of your current situation. The effort only served to exacerbate the pounding ache in your head, each attempt at coherence feeling like a futile road to go down on.

With each step towards the large window space, the weight of uncertainty pressed down upon you, adding to the throbbing ache in your head. Outside, the sight of the motionless plane sitting abandoned on the tarmac only deepened your sense of bewilderment. People would be here, no, you stopped yourself, they should be here. It was a stark contrast to the lively scenes you remembered from your previous visit, where the airport buzzed with the energy of travelers coming and going.

As you stood there, gazing out at the empty runway, a flurry of questions raced through your mind. How had you ended up here, alone in this deserted airport? Where were Satoru and Suguru? And what had happened to the vibrant atmosphere you had once experienced in Naha Airport? More importantly, what was the reason of you being here? And why are you all alone? You wouldn’t have gone here alone. Not by your own will, not at all.

Attempting to piece together the fragmented memories of your journey only served to exacerbate the pounding ache in your head. Frustration simmered beneath the surface as you struggled to make sense of the inexplicable situation unfolding before you. Your hands slides down to the depths of your uniform pockets and you gather yourself for a moment. Being frustrated wouldn’t do you good. With a heavy sigh, you leaned against the windowpane, your thoughts swirling in a whirlwind of confusion and uncertainty.

In the midst of the desolation, a pang of longing surged within you, a sudden ache for Suguru's comforting presence. He had always been the anchor to your tumultuous emotions, his touch a source of solace that grounded you in reality. You could almost feel the warmth of his hand enveloping yours, offering reassurance in times of uncertainty. Suguru possessed an innate gentleness, a kindness that seemed to radiate from his very being. He had a way of easing your burdens, providing comfort and relief to the pain that lingered within you. It was as if he carried a piece of sunshine wherever he went, banishing darkness with his unwavering warmth.

As thoughts of Suguru lingered, your mind drifted to Satoru, another pillar of strength in your life. Despite his penchant for cheesy dad jokes, he had a knack for lifting spirits and bringing smiles even in the darkest of times. You could almost hear his infectious laughter echoing in the empty halls of the airport, a reminder of the joy he brought to those around him. You missed the sound of his laughter, the way it bubbled up before he could even deliver one of his infamous jokes.

With a heavy sigh, you scanned the barren surroundings, searching for any sign of life amidst the desolate emptiness that surrounded you. It felt as though you were trapped within your own cage of loneliness, yearning for the comforting presence of those who had always been there to chase away the shadows of doubt and despair.

As you stood there, adrift in the labyrinth of your own thoughts, the sudden intrusion of a voice shattered the eerie silence enveloping the abandoned airport. Its resonance seemed to reverberate through the desolate expanse of the airport lounge, punctuating the solitude with an unexpected interruption. Startled by the intrusion, you pivoted on your heels to locate its source, your senses heightened by the jarring contrast between the stillness and the sudden commotion.

There, amidst the ghostly surroundings, you caught sight of Amanai Riko racing towards you, tears tracing a glistening trail down her cheeks. Her frantic footsteps echoed off the empty walls, each stride a testament to the urgency of her approach. The sight of her tear-streaked face stirred a mixture of emotions within you, a blend of concern and bewilderment at the unexpected encounter.

"Hey, are you alright?" Riko's voice called out, trembling with emotion, as she hurried toward you. Her hands moved frantically, checking your sides, your face, your hair, as though uncertain of what to do but driven by an urgent need to ensure your well-being. Confusion clouded your mind as you tried to make sense of her actions, her touch both comforting and disconcerting in equal measure. Tears welled in her eyes, her distress palpable, and without a word, you found yourself enveloped in her embrace. “You’re here, I can’t believe you’re right here. I found you!”

You could feel the warmth of her tears soaking into your Jujutsu uniform, her apologies whispered between sobs. The sight of her vulnerability stirred a myriad of emotions within you, leaving you momentarily stunned into silence. Slowly, you reciprocated her embrace, your arms encircling her as you gently brushed her hair, urging her to release her pent-up emotions. Despite your own confusion, your instinct was to offer comfort, to be a source of solace in her time of need.

At that moment, questions lingered on the tip of your tongue, but you pushed them aside, prioritizing Riko's emotional well-being over your own uncertainties. All that mattered was being there for her, providing whatever support and comfort you could offer in the face of her tears.

"I'm so sorry," Riko choked out, her words muffled against the fabric of your shirt, her voice heavy with emotion. “I’m so so sorry!”

Confusion swept over you like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf your senses as you struggled to comprehend the depth of her distress. Yet, despite the uncertainty swirling within your mind, your instinct was to offer comfort, to provide solace in whatever way you could. With a gentle squeeze, you conveyed reassurance, a silent reminder that you were there for her, unwavering in your support.

"It's okay, Riko," you whispered softly, your voice a gentle murmur against the backdrop of her tears. Each syllable carried the weight of understanding and empathy, a soothing balm to the turmoil of emotions swirling around you. "Don't worry about it. You don't ever have to apologize for anything, darling girl."

"But! But….I just!" Riko's voice wavered, interrupted by sobs that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Shhh…" You cooed, your words a comforting melody as you gently hushed her protests. A soft laugh escaped your lips, the sound echoing against the strands of her hair as you held her close. "I don't know why you're apologizing, but it's okay. I'm not mad about anything."

As Riko's sobs gradually subsided, you cast a glance over her shoulder, noting Kuroi Misato's approach with a gentle smile gracing her lips. "Hey," Kuroi greeted softly, her voice carrying a warmth that belied the complexity of emotions swirling within her.

Despite the outward display of kindness, there lingered a subtle hint of unease in Kuroi's expression, a flicker of guilt that caught your attention like a shadow in the midst of sunlight. It was a discordant note amidst the tranquility of the moment, leaving you with a sense of disquiet that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness.

As you pondered the significance of Kuroi's demeanor, a myriad of questions danced through your mind, each one seeking to unravel the mystery shrouding her intentions. Yet, try as you might, the elusive truth remained just beyond your grasp, leaving you to grapple with an unsettling sense of uncertainty. As Riko gradually regained her composure, you gently pulled away, your concern etched into every line of your face as you met her gaze with a mixture of worry and curiosity.

"What's going on?" you asked, your voice tinged with apprehension. You slowly straighten your posture and look between the younger girl and her guardian. “I woke up here….and you’re crying. And I just….”

With a trembling voice, Riko began to unravel the unsettling truth that had brought them to this deserted airport. She looks like she couldn’t even bear to tell you. But looking at her eyes, you realized that she was gathering the courage to say it to you. You wanted to coax it out of her, suspicion making your heart beat even faster at the anxiety. She looks at Kuroi, who gives her a soft smile and nods at her.

"We've been here for a while, on the other side of the airport," she explained, her words carrying the weight of revelation. "It took us some time to realize, but... we're dead."

The revelation hit you with the force of a thunderclap, jolting you from the realm of the familiar into the stark reality of their circumstances. It felt as if the ground had shifted beneath your feet, leaving you reeling in a maelstrom of disbelief and confusion. Each word uttered by Riko seemed to reverberate through the empty expanse of the airport, echoing off the walls like a haunting refrain.

Your mind raced to grasp the enormity of what she had just disclosed, but comprehension eluded you like a fleeting shadow. The implications of their predicament began to sink in slowly, like pebbles dropped into the vast ocean of your consciousness. This wasn't a mere misunderstanding or a figment of their imagination; it was the chilling truth laid bare before you.

As you struggled to come to terms with the stark reality of their situation, a sense of surrealism washed over you, enveloping you in a haze of uncertainty. It was as if you had been thrust into a waking dream, where the boundaries between life and death blurred and indistinct shades of gray.

Yet, amidst the tumult of emotions that threatened to engulf you, a flicker of determination ignited within your soul. You knew that you couldn't afford to dwell on shock and disbelief for long; there were questions to be answered, decisions to be made, and a journey into the unknown awaiting them all. With a steel resolve, you square your shoulders and prepare to confront whatever lay ahead, drawing strength from the bond that united you with Riko and Kuroi in this surreal limbo.

"Wait, what?" you stammered, your mind reeling with the enormity of what she was saying. It wasn’t registered. Your mouth parts, trying to get the words out. But nothing comes out.

This airport, once a bustling hub teeming with life and activity, now loomed before you as a solemn gateway to the afterlife. Its once vibrant corridors now echoed with the hollow silence of abandonment, the ghostly remnants of past travelers haunting its deserted halls. It was as if time had frozen within these walls, trapping them in a liminal space between the worlds of the living and the dead.

As the gravity of their situation settled upon you like a heavy shroud, a whirlwind of questions stormed through your mind, each one a relentless demand for answers in the face of this surreal reality. How had they ended up here? What awaited them beyond the confines of this desolate airport? And most pressing of all, what did it mean for their future?

Yet, amidst the chaos of your thoughts, you made a conscious choice to set aside your own uncertainties, focusing instead on providing Riko and Kuroi with the unwavering support they needed in this moment of profound uncertainty. With a steadfast resolve, you vowed to stand by their side, ready to confront whatever revelations the future held, even as you braced yourself for the unknown journey that lay ahead.

You let yourself slowly walk back to the benches.

You take a moment and you carefully sit down.

You look at the two of them as you cross your arms.

“Tell me everything you remember when you woke up.”

YOU THINK YOU SPENT QUITE WHILE REGISTERING EVERYTHING. The three of you huddled together in a somber tableau, grappling with the weight of the revelations that had reshaped your understanding of existence. There really isn't much to be done now, it seems. As the realization of your passing settles in, a heavy sigh escapes your lips, accompanied by a gentle rub of the back of your head.

The irony of finding yourself in an airport at this moment doesn't escape you; it's almost as if God has a penchant for whimsy in the afterlife. Taking a seat on one of the airport benches, you purse your lips in contemplation. You know you'll be waiting here for a while, and oddly enough, that's what you find solace in. Suguru and Satoru, together. You believe they'll be alright; those two were destined for long, fulfilling lives. At least, that's what you hope for. After all, Jujutsu sorcerers aren't typically associated with the concept of 'forever'.

In truth, for you, the concept of death had been a familiar companion since youth—a shadow that had trailed alongside you through the tumultuous journey of your upbringing. As an orphan with no prospects and no dreams to call your own, the specter of mortality had woven itself into the fabric of your being, a constant presence as natural as drawing breath into your lungs.

It was Tsukumo Yuki who had intervened, rescuing you from the abyss of despair during her travels and delivering you into the care of Yaga-sensei. Under his guidance, you had discovered the latent ability to perceive curses, a revelation that had irrevocably altered the trajectory of your life. Even then, death had not loosened its grip on you; the path of a sorcerer was fraught with peril, a reality Yaga-sensei had emphasized with disarming candor.

Yet, buoyed by the hope of strength and the promise of a newfound purpose, you had forged ahead, driven by the belief that diligence and determination would pave the way to a brighter future. In the embrace of companionship—with Satoru, with Shoko, with Suguru—you glimpsed the elusive promise of happiness, a fragile beacon amidst the darkness of uncertainty.

Now, faced with the stark reality of your demise, you couldn't help but mourn the life you had hoped to live—a life filled with love, with laughter, with the warmth of cherished bonds. The memory of your final moments flooded back, the visceral recollection of sacrificing yourself to shield Riko from harm, a selfless act that now loomed large in the landscape of regret.

As you leaned against the cold metal frame, a heavy sigh escaped your lips, carrying with it the weight of resignation and understanding. No wonder Riko felt guilty—your sacrifice had left an indelible mark on her conscience, a burden she now bore in the wake of your shared tragedy. You harbored no blame towards Riko, not even a trace of guilt weighed upon your conscience for sacrificing yourself in an attempt to protect her. From the depths of your being, there surged a profound sense of clarity—a steadfast conviction that your actions were born out of love and selflessness, devoid of any remorse or reproach.

In that fateful moment when danger had loomed large and fate had beckoned, you had acted instinctively, driven by an innate desire to shield Riko from harm at any cost. The notion of self-preservation had paled in comparison to the unwavering commitment to her safety, a commitment that transcended mere survival.

As you reflected upon the events that had led to your demise, there was no room for regret or recrimination. You supposed that it was the Jujutsu sorcerer in you. Yaga–sensei’s voice reverberated in your head, ‘A sorcerer doesn’t live for themselves. You live for others.’

The sentiment was something you wanted to laugh at. Satoru would laugh at how ridiculous that sounded, Suguru would think that it was ridiculous but it was what it was. But deep down you know you couldn’t. You know you wouldn’t. Instead, there existed a serene acceptance—a recognition that your final act had been keeping someone innocent alive. You did your duty, you stuck to your beliefs. You died well. You died fast too–you supposed that was a bonus in itself. That Sorcerer Killer had good aim too, you think. You sighed in finality, at the acceptance that this was fate. That this was what was destined. And it was what it was.

As you grapple with the weight of your departure, a single regret pierces through the fog of your thoughts, consuming your mind with its relentless presence. It's the ache of leaving behind Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko—the three pillars of your life, the anchors that tethered you to the realm of happiness and belonging.

Yet, amid this sea of regret, it's Suguru who occupies the forefront of your mind, his memory etched into the deepest recesses of your heart. You can't shake the feeling that your absence will inflict the deepest wounds upon him, for your love for him ran as deep as the ocean, binding your souls together in an unbreakable bond.

A flashback floods your consciousness, transporting you back to a moment frozen in time—a promise exchanged between lovers, whispered with the fervent hope of a future together. But now, as the harsh reality of your demise sets in, you find yourself grappling with the bitter irony of it all, the weight of unfulfilled promises hanging heavy on your soul.

You wish—oh, how you wish—that Suguru could understand the circumstances that led to your untimely departure, that he could find solace in the knowledge that your love for him transcends the boundaries of life and death. But even as you entertain this fleeting hope, a pang of uncertainty gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, whispering doubts of forgiveness and understanding.

And then there's Satoru—the other half of your soul, the one who had captured your heart with his infectious laughter and unwavering devotion. You can't bear to think of the pain that your absence will inflict upon him, the shattered dreams and broken promises that will haunt his waking hours.

A bittersweet memory emerges from the depths of your mind—a pinky promise exchanged between friends, a solemn vow to stand by each other's side until the end of time. But now, as you stand on the precipice of eternity, you can't help but wonder if Satoru will ever forgive you for breaking that sacred oath, for leaving him behind in a world devoid of your presence.

Amidst the whirlwind of emotions, a pang of guilt washes over you as you contemplate the impact of your absence on Shoko. She, too, had been an integral part of your life, a steadfast companion whose presence had brought warmth and solace in times of need. Now, as she navigates the bustling city streets alone, you can't help but feel a twinge of remorse knowing that she'll face each day without your comforting presence by her side.

You envision her, standing alone on the far-flung balcony of her dorm, the tendrils of smoke from her cigarette swirling around her like a melancholic dance. In that solitary moment, you can almost feel her loneliness echoing through the void, a stark reminder of the void you've left behind.

But even amidst the guilt and regret, you cling to a flicker of hope—that somehow, someway, Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko will come to understand the circumstances that led to your departure. You wish for nothing more than their forgiveness, their understanding, their acceptance of the choices you've made.

For now, as you stand at the crossroads of eternity, you hold onto the enduring love that binds you to them—a love that transcends time and space, a love that will guide you through the darkness and into the light.

A solemn silence settles over the three of you, each lost in your own thoughts and emotions. It's Riko who breaks the silence first, her voice trembling with emotion as she struggles to articulate the enormity of their situation.

"I... I never thought... I never imagined..." Riko's words falter, her eyes brimming with tears as she looks to you for comfort and understanding. “I just….”

You reach out to her, offering a reassuring squeeze of her hand as you meet her gaze with a soft smile. "It's okay, Riko. We'll figure this out together," you assure her, your voice laced with a gentle reassurance. “We gotta stick together, you hear me?”

Kuroi steps forward, her expression trying to lift from the veil of sorrow. She smiled. "We may not have all the answers right now, but we'll face this challenge together, as a team."

You nod in agreement, grateful for the unwavering support of your friends in this moment of uncertainty. "Thank you, both of you," you say with a sincere grin. “This might be easier with the two of you with me.”

With a determined smile, you hummed, eager to lift the spirits of your small group. You stand up from your chair. "Let's not dwell on what we can't change right now," you suggest gently, your voice infused with optimism. "Instead, why don't we explore this airport together? Who knows what we might find?"

Riko's eyes brighten slightly at the suggestion, a glimmer of curiosity replacing the sadness that had clouded her features moments before. She wipes the tears away. "That sounds like a good idea," she agrees, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Kuroi nods in approval, her resolve visibly strengthening as she takes your lead. "We'll make the most of this situation," she declares with newfound determination.

“Now, let’s go! I’m craving an ice cream sundae!”

Riko laughs as she follows closely behind you. “We’re dead, we can’t eat ice cream.”

“It doesn’t matter, I want it!” You laughed back at her, but more obnoxiously. “Kuroi, what’s your favorite ice cream?”

“Oh, that’s a hard one to decide….”

As you set off together, embarking on a journey of exploration and discovery, you can't help but feel a spark of hope ignite within you. Though the road ahead may be uncertain, you take comfort in the knowledge that you're not alone—you have each other, and together, you'll find a way to navigate this strange new world.

With a sense of purpose guiding your steps, you forge ahead into the unknown, ready to face whatever challenges may come your way. And as you walk side by side, the promise of a brighter future beckons on the horizon, filling your hearts with renewed courage and determination.

You had high hopes that it’ll be just the three of you for now.

If there was a god watching you now, you whispered a wish.

You wished that those you love would live a long and happy life.

But a few months later, you stood and frowned as you stared.

Brown eyes stared at you, cheeks flustered all the way through.

“Yu Haibara, how the fu—you were supposed to grow old, idiot!”

YOU COULDN’T HELP BUT THINK. That’s all you could really do here, if you were being honest. God perhaps intended purgatory as a reflection on your life. But somehow, these days, you end up thinking more about your new arrival—-Yu Haibara, and how he got here. Why was he here? You already knew why. And yet you kept pondering why. Why did he end up here so early? Why should such a boy with a life long ahead of him be here?

In the hushed moments of contemplation, memories of Haibara's sacrifice resurfaced like ghosts haunting the corridors of your mind. You didn’t tell him about it, but you ended up thinking that he was more like you than you liked. You wished in a way, that the boy he was, had been a little bit more selfish. He didn’t have to tell you how he died — you already knew. Because he was just that kind. He was too good of a person.

His selfless act, a final testament to his unwavering loyalty and boundless courage, lingered with poignant clarity, etching itself into the fabric of your consciousness. The image of him, standing tall and resolute in the face of danger, sacrificing himself to shield Nanami from harm, was seared into your memory like a brand, a testament to the indomitable spirit that defined him.

Nanami Kento must have been distraught, you think. Your little Ken, as you liked to call him, was more emotional than he let on, you like to think. To lose you both in the distance of one year, that’s a big blow — at least you like to think so. Kento had few people he liked to genuinely call friends. Even with you, he was formal. But Haibara? Haibara was his closest friend, even if he didn’t say it out loud. And now Haibara’s gone. You didn’t know what to say, at first. But Haibara just smiled at you.

As you reminisced about that conversation with Haibara, his words echoed in your mind with a poignant clarity, each syllable carrying a weight of its own. His reassurance, delivered with a grin that belied his own fears, had offered a fleeting moment of solace amidst the turmoil of grief and uncertainty. But even then, you couldn't shake the heavy burden of concern that weighed upon your heart.

“He’ll be alright,” Haibara wistfully smiled at you. “He’s a strong guy you know! He’s survived this long!”

"I hope so. But he'll miss his friend the most, you know," you murmured softly, your gaze tender as you looked upon Haibara, your voice heavy with unspoken worry.

In response, Haibara had laughed heartily, his laughter a balm to your troubled soul. "Hm, I know. But we'll see him one day. For now... he has to live. Long and happily too."

Your response had been a quiet hum of agreement, the weight of his words lingering in the air like a promise yet to be fulfilled. Together, you had watched the birds outside the airport window, their graceful flight a stark contrast to the heavy thoughts that weighed upon your mind.

And then, in a moment of unexpected candor, Haibara had turned to you, his expression earnest as he broached a topic that had long been left unspoken between you.

"You know..." he had begun hesitantly, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words to convey the depth of his emotions.

"Yeah?" you had prompted, your curiosity piqued by the sudden seriousness in his tone.

"Geto-senpai and Gojo-senpai..." Haibara had started, his gaze flickering with a mixture of sadness and regret. "They were really sad about your death."

The revelation had struck you like a blow to the chest, the weight of his words crushing in their sincerity. In that moment, you had been reminded of the far-reaching impact of your passing, the ripple effect of grief and loss that had reverberated through the lives of those you held dear. And as you grappled with the magnitude of their sorrow, a pang of guilt had seared through your heart, a painful reminder of the unintended consequences of your untimely departure.

A heavy silence descended between you and Haibara, the weight of his words hanging in the air like an unspoken truth. You felt a lump form in your throat, the guilt of causing pain to those you cared about weighing heavily on your shoulders.

"I... I didn't mean to hurt them," you finally murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to articulate the turmoil within your heart.

Haibara's gaze softened, a gentle understanding shining in his eyes as he reached out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I know, senpai. None of us blame you for what happened. It's just... hard, you know? Losing someone we cared about so deeply."

Tears welled up in your eyes, a silent testament to the depth of your remorse. "I wish I could have stayed," you admitted, your voice choking with emotion. You straighten your posture. You tried to be strong. "I wish I could have been there for them, to ease their pain and share in their sorrow."

Haibara's grip on your shoulder tightened, offering a silent reassurance in the midst of your anguish. "I know, senpai. But we can't change what's already happened. All we can do is cherish the memories we shared and hold onto the hope that one day, we'll be reunited with them again."

You nodded in agreement, finding solace in Haibara's words. "You're right," you whispered, a sense of determination settling over you. "We'll wait. Like they’re waiting.”

In those quiet moments of solitude, you found yourself reflecting on the bonds that had formed between you and your companions, forged through shared experiences and the trials of this peculiar existence. Haibara, Kuroi, Riko—each one has become an indispensable part of your makeshift family, their presence a source of strength and comfort in the face of uncertainty.

As you watched the sunset beyond the airport windows, casting a warm glow over the empty terminal, memories of happier times flooded your mind. You recalled the laughter that had once echoed through these halls, the shared meals and late-night conversations that had brought you all closer together.

But amidst the nostalgia, there lingered a palpable sense of loss—the absence of those who had left this world too soon, their laughter now just a distant echo in the recesses of your mind. You couldn't help but wonder what they would think if they could see you now, still waiting, still hoping for a chance at redemption.

Yet, despite the passage of time and the weight of your regrets, you refused to lose hope. You clung to the belief that one day, your vigil would come to an end, and you would be reunited with those you had lost. Until then, you would continue to cherish the moments you shared with your companions, finding solace in their unwavering support and the enduring bonds of friendship that bound you together.

As the last rays of sunlight faded into darkness, you found yourself filled with a renewed sense of purpose—a determination to make the most of each passing day, to live fully and love deeply, even in the midst of this endless waiting. And so, with a quiet resolve, you turned to face the challenges of the days ahead, guided by the enduring light of hope that burned brightly within your heart.

Amidst the ever-present stillness of the airport, a burst of playful energy erupted as Riko suggested the game of hide and seek. "Let's play hide and seek!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced around at the group.

You and your companions eagerly embraced the idea, craving a reprieve from the relentless monotony of waiting. With a chorus of agreement, you all scattered in different directions, eager to find the perfect hiding spot or to be the one to uncover the others' hiding places.

As the designated seeker, you closed your eyes and began counting aloud while the others hurried off to conceal themselves. The rhythmic cadence of your countdown filled the air, accompanied by the faint sounds of laughter and shuffling as your friends found their spots.

"One... two... three..." you began, the anticipation building with each passing moment. "Ten! Ready or not, here I come!"

You navigated the deserted corridors of the airport, your senses heightened as you scanned every nook and cranny for any sign of movement. Laughter echoed faintly in the distance, teasing you with hints of where your friends might be hiding.

As you rounded a corner, you caught a glimpse of movement—a flicker of movement behind a row of empty seats. Your heart raced with anticipation as you quickened your pace, closing in on the source of the movement. But as you rounded the corner, your momentum carried you forward, and before you knew it, you collided with someone—someone whose familiar touch sent a jolt of recognition coursing through your veins. You thought it was Kuroi. You believed it was Kuroi.

"Gotcha!" you exclaimed triumphantly, reaching out to tag the figure on the shoulder.

The realization hit you like a sudden gust of wind, knocking the breath from your lungs and leaving you reeling in disbelief. The warmth of the hand against yours was unmistakable—this wasn't Kuroi. Her touch was always cool, her fingers delicate and precise. But this hand... it was different. It was warm, rough with calluses that spoke of a life filled with toil and hardship.

As the truth began to sink in, your heart raced with a frantic rhythm, each beat echoing loudly in your ears as your mind struggled to process the impossible reality before you. Why was he….here? How was it possible? This soon?

Your eyes widened ever so slowly in the shock you felt as you resisted the urge to look up, to meet his gaze and confront the truth that lay between you. You knew that if you looked into his eyes, you would see the same pain and confusion mirrored there—the same turmoil that threatened to consume you whole.

“It’s you….”

The sound of his voice, so achingly familiar yet tinged with a hint of reproach, pierced through the haze of disbelief that enveloped you. You could feel his gaze boring into you, urging you to meet his eyes, to confront the truth that lay between you.

But you couldn't bring yourself to look. Not yet. Not when the wounds of his passing were still so fresh, raw with the sting of loss and longing. Instead, you bit your lip in a futile attempt to steady your trembling emotions, feeling the hot sting of tears welling up in your eyes.

“Look at me,” he pleaded, his voice soft yet filled with an unspoken urgency.

You shook your head, unable to find the strength to meet his gaze, to face the reality of his absence head-on.

“After all this time, are you going to deny me seeing your face?” His words were laced with a mixture of longing and frustration, a silent plea for reconciliation that echoed in the empty space between you.

Your heart ached at the sound of his voice, the memories of your shared love flooding your mind with bittersweet intensity. Ten years—ten long years since you last saw him, since he slipped away from your grasp and into the cold embrace of eternity.

And now, here he was, standing before you with his hand outstretched, a silent reminder of everything you had lost and everything that could never be again.

But still, you couldn't bring yourself to look—to face the truth that lay before you, to acknowledge the gaping void that his absence had left in your heart.

“I can't,” you whispered, your voice barely above a hoarse murmur.

The air between you hung heavy with unspoken words, the weight of your shared history pressing down upon you like a suffocating blanket. And as the tears continued to flow, you knew that no matter how hard you tried to deny it. He died. And so soon. He didn’t let himself grow old. He didn’t let himself live the life you wanted for him. You cried even more in the silence.

As you looked up, your breath caught in your throat, tears welling in your eyes at the sight of Suguru standing before you. His expression softened with concern as he reached out to steady you, his touch sending waves of warmth cascading through your body. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you gazed into his eyes, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions that threatened to consume you. His purple eyes gleamed, almost so wondrously as though he was taking in the features of your face. As though he’d forgotten. He slowly smiled as tears poured down from his eyes too. His breath became shaky as his fingers rested on your chin.

In that fleeting instant, all the pain and longing you had carried with you melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of love and belonging. Without a word, you threw your arms around him, clinging to him as though he were the anchor that could tether you to this world. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you buried your face in his chest, the weight of your shared sorrow and joy pressing against you like a comforting embrace.

In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of laughter and the warmth of Suguru's embrace, you knew that no matter how long you waited or how far you roamed, you would always find your way back to each other. And as you stood there, lost in the embrace of the one you loved, you felt a flicker of hope ignite within you—a hope that one day, you would be reunited with all those you held dear, in a place where time had no power to separate.

As the warmth of his embrace enveloped you, you couldn't help but let the floodgates of emotion burst open, tears streaming down your cheeks as you buried your face against his chest. The familiar scent of him, a mixture of earthy musk and the faint hint of his favorite cologne, washed over you, comforting you in a way that nothing else could.

“You idiot,” you cried out, your voice muffled against the warmth of his flesh. “You couldn’t even make me proud by growing old and living a whole life to tell me. You’re so annoying, you….”

But before you could finish your tirade, his laughter cut through the air, a melodic sound that echoed against your bodies and filled the empty space between you. It was a laugh filled with joy, unbridled and free, and for a fleeting moment, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy at the happiness he exuded.

“I didn’t want to live a whole life if you weren’t going to be in it,” he confessed, his voice soft yet resolute. “There was nothing to smile about.”

His words hung heavy in the air, a poignant reminder of the depth of his love for you, even in the face of eternity. And as you stood there, locked in each other's embrace, you knew that no matter what trials may come, no matter how much time may pass, the bond you shared with Suguru would endure—a beacon of hope in the darkness that now enveloped your soul.

In that moment, amidst the chaos of emotions swirling within you, a sense of peace washed over your weary soul. You realized that even in death, your love for each other remained as steadfast as ever, an unbreakable thread binding your hearts together for all eternity.

"I missed you," you whispered, your voice barely a breath against his chest.

"I missed you too," he replied, his arms tightening around you in a silent promise never to let go again.

For a timeless moment, you simply stood there, lost in the embrace of the one you thought you had lost forever. The weight of the years spent apart melted away, leaving only the warmth of his love to fill the void in your heart.

But as the realization of your reunion settled in, a new sense of purpose stirred within you. You knew that you couldn't stay in this airport forever, trapped in a limbo of waiting and longing. There were others out there, waiting for you, longing to be reunited just as you had been.

You pulled away from Suguru's embrace, meeting his gaze with a determined glint in your eyes. "We can't stay here," you said firmly. "There are others who’d want to see you.”

Suguru nodded in agreement, his expression mirroring your determination. "You're right," he said. "We'll find a way. Together. But….”

You looked at him as he smiled at you, his height bearing down upon you.

“Let me kiss you.” He whispers to you. “Before you introduce me to the others.”

You felt a soft flutter in your chest at his words, a mixture of longing and anticipation coursing through your veins. Despite the weight of the years that had passed, the desire to feel his lips against yours burned fiercely within you.

Without a word, you leaned in, closing the distance between you and Suguru. His lips met yours in a tender embrace, a silent exchange of love and longing that transcended the boundaries of time and space. In that fleeting moment, all the pain and sorrow of the past faded into insignificance, replaced by the overwhelming warmth of his touch.

As you pulled away, you met Suguru's gaze, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of affection and gratitude. "Thank you," he whispered softly, his voice barely a breath against your lips.

Your heart flutters at his words.

He grins at you, wholeheartedly.

You admit, your heart is a little bit full.

But you knew it wasn’t as full as yet.

Satoru, you wanted to see Satoru too.

IT WAS DECEMBER 24TH 2018 WHEN GOJO SATORU ARRIVED AT THE AIRPORT. As you and Suguru stood by the airport benches, your embrace providing a comforting anchor amidst the chaos of the bustling terminal, a sense of tranquility settled over you. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your own private sanctuary.

But amidst this moment of serenity, a movement caught your eye, drawing your attention to a familiar figure nearby. There, amidst the deserted terminal, Satoru lay sleeping, his form peaceful and serene against the backdrop of the bustling airport.

You exchanged a glance with Suguru, a silent communication passing between you as you both recognized the significance of the moment. It was an unexpected reunion, one that held the promise of both joy and uncertainty.

For a moment, you simply stood there, lost in the quiet beauty of the scene before you. The terminal faded into the background, leaving only Satoru and the two of you in a timeless embrace. As you watched Satoru sleep, a rush of emotions swept over you, mingling with the tender affection you felt for him. It was a moment of unexpected beauty, a reminder of the enduring bond that connected the three of you, even across the vast expanse of time and space.

"He didn't even wait a year after you," you remarked to Suguru, a hint of annoyance creeping into your voice as you crossed your arms. "Nanami Ken-Ken, I understand. But the two of you?"

Suguru's snort was barely audible, but the wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips spoke volumes. Memories flooded his mind as he remembered the last time Nanami had made an unexpected appearance in the airport. He couldn't help but find amusement in the way you had reacted then – your expression a mix of shock and disappointment that was, in his eyes, utterly endearing.

In that moment, Suguru couldn't help but recall just how adorable you looked when you expressed such disappointment. He knew you well enough to recognize that pout – the one that often graced your lips when things didn't go as planned, or when someone didn't meet your expectations. It was a trait of yours that Satoru, too, was likely familiar with.

But Suguru understood the underlying reason behind your tendency to pout and lecture. It wasn't borne out of mere petulance or frustration; rather, it stemmed from a deep-seated care and concern for those around you. You had a heart that overflowed with love and compassion, and you wanted nothing more than for everyone to live longer, happier lives – even if it meant lecturing them endlessly or wearing that adorable pout.

It was this caring nature of yours that Suguru found so utterly captivating, and it was a trait that had endeared you to him even more over the years. As he looked at you now, lost in your thoughts, he couldn't help but feel a swell of affection for you – a silent acknowledgment of the depth of your love and the strength of your character.

As you stood in the airport, a familiar figure caught your eye. It was Nanami, standing there in the terminal, his presence a shocking revelation. Disbelief washed over you, mingled with a sense of incredulity. How could he be here after all this time? He was supposed to be alive and well. If anyone was going to outlive them all now, it would be Nanami. Suguru had said that he had left that life behind, after you and Haibara passed away. But to have seen him there, as young as you met him, rubbing the back of his head as you

Without a second thought, you rushed over to him, your voice tinged with disbelief and a hint of annoyance. "Nanami? What are you doing here?" you demanded, unable to mask the surprise in your tone. "You... you shouldn't be here. You're supposed to be..."

“Well, I’m here.” Nanami Kento replied to you, sighing, crossing his arms. He was as much a teenager as you remember him to be. “I’m dead, senpai.”

“You….”

But before you could finish your sentence, you launched into a tirade, peppering Nanami with questions and admonishments. "You can't just waltz into the airport like nothing happened!" you exclaimed, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "Do you have any idea how bad this is? Suguru said you left Jujutsu! Why did you come back, you idiot?”

“......It’s not like I have anything to do.”

“Kento, is that you?” Yu Haibara’s mouth went agape as he stood before you all, looking at his closest friend. “You still look the same! Emo and all!”

Nanami frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Now, now,” Suguru tries to mitigate.

“Wait, I’m not done lecturing!” You impede, your brows furrowing. You sighed, lowering your head to your palm. “Let me think for a second, I’m overstimulating.”

Haibara grinned. “You can do it, senpai!”

“That’s not helping.” Nanami whispers.

“Shhhhhhhhh!” You put your index finger on your lip, glaring at him. “I’m not done!”

Your words trailed off as you struggled to find the right ones, emotions swirling within you like a storm. But despite your agitation, Nanami Kento remained silent, his expression unreadable as he listened to your impassioned speech. He knew you weren’t going to stop. You were more the parent than Geto Suguru, after all.

At the sight of your antics, Suguru couldn't help but laugh, the sound echoing softly through the terminal. "Leave it to you to give him a proper scolding, even after he's dead," he remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“You’re not out of the water either!”

"You make it seem like it was a choice for us to go down that route," Suguru replied, his tone tinged with resignation. It was a reminder of the circumstances that had led them here, to this peculiar purgatory where time seemed to stand still. “It is fate, whatever happened.”

"It is a choice," you insisted, leaning against Suguru's side as you settled down beside him on the bench. "I wanted to see you with white hair."

Suguru chuckled, his smile widening as he reached over to playfully poke at Satoru's hair. "You already see so much of that on Satoru," he remarked teasingly.

You swatted Suguru's hand away with a mock glare. "Hey, he might develop a bald spot with that!" you protested, unable to suppress a grin.

Suguru laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "He's already in the afterlife, he's gonna be fine," he reassured you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

You raised an eyebrow skeptically. "We're not even sure if he's dead, Suguru! His soul is a bit glitchy from here!" you retorted back to your lover.

Suguru met your gaze with a playful smirk. "You can see souls?" he quipped, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"I'm dead, so obviously, I do!" you shot back, unable to resist a jab back at him.

Suguru's smirk widened into a grin as he considered your words. "What if we return him back to life and he's bald?" he mused, the corners of his lips twitching with suppressed laughter.

“That’s not funny, Suguru!”

Just as you and Suguru continued to trade playful banter, Satoru stirred from his slumber, blinking groggily as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. His eyes widened in surprise as he took in the sight of you and Suguru sitting beside him, the playful atmosphere of your conversation washing over him. You waved at him, happily greeting him. He couldn’t believe it. How he was seeing you greet him in that warm manner, as you always have when you were alive.

Satoru's initial disbelief gradually gave way to a sense of wonder as he took in the sight of you waving at him, a warm smile gracing your lips. It was a sight he had longed to see for years, a memory that he had held onto tightly even as the years stretched on in this strange limbo.

With a mixture of awe and gratitude, Satoru returned your wave, his heart swelling with emotion at the sight of you. It felt surreal, almost dreamlike, to be greeted by you in such a familiar manner, as if no time had passed at all.

For a moment, he allowed himself to revel in the warmth of your presence, the memory of your smile etched into his mind like a cherished treasure. It was a moment of pure bliss amidst the uncertainty of their existence in this surreal afterlife, a reminder of the enduring bond that connected them across the boundaries of life and death.

"Yo," Suguru greeted Satoru casually, a grin spreading across his face.

Satoru's expression shifted from confusion to disbelief as he processed the unexpected reunion. "This is freaking awful," he muttered, his words tinged with a mixture of incredulity and bemusement.

Geto pouted exaggeratedly, feigning offense at Satoru's response. "Hey, that's rude," he protested with mock indignation. “I can’t believe you greet the love of my life warmly but you greet me so cruelly.”

You let your tongue out at Suguru. “I’m his best friend, of course, bangs!”

He pinches your cheek as you squeal “You’re acting so cheekily again.”

Satoru sighed, running a hand through his hair as he struggled to make sense of the situation. "I told my students that when they die, they'll be alone," he explained, his tone tinged with a hint of resignation. "So I'm hoping this is just some illusion."

You couldn't help but laugh at Satoru's melodramatic proclamation, shaking your head in amusement. It was a clearly playful jab, one that you had not been able to say to him in such a long time. "That’s actually such a loser statement, Satoru," you teased, a fond smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “You’ve gotten this lame over the years, Gojo–sensei?”

“I’m Satoru to you, thank you very much,” The blue eyed sorcerer pouts at you, crossing his arms. Though he had to admit, he liked the way you said Gojo–sensei. “And Yaga–sensei was the one who said it to me! Blame him, not me!”

As Satoru sat there, basking in the warmth of your presence, a wave of pure contentment washed over him, enveloping him in a sense of peace that he hadn't felt in years. The sound of your laughter was music to his ears. It was a harmony that he had been waiting to hear for a decade since you’ve passed. It was a feeling he struggled to put into words, a profound sense of happiness that seemed to resonate deep within his soul.

In that moment, surrounded by the familiar faces of you and Suguru, Satoru couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the opportunity to see you again. He had missed you more than words could express, longing for the warmth of your smile and the comfort of your presence during the long years of solitude in this airport purgatory.

Even as he grappled with the knowledge that he could never truly express his romantic feelings for you, Satoru found solace in the simple joy of being near you once more. For him, this moment was a glimpse of paradise, a fleeting taste of happiness that he would treasure for eternity.

In your presence, Satoru felt a sense of completeness that he had never known before, a feeling that transcended the boundaries of life and death. You were his paradise, his beacon of light in the darkness of this strange afterlife, and for that, he would be forever grateful.

As he sat there, savoring the precious moments with you, Satoru couldn't help but reflect on how his ten years in this limbo had led him to this beautiful reunion. Despite the uncertainties and challenges he had faced during his time here, none of it seemed to matter in comparison to the overwhelming joy of being with you once again.

He thought about all the times he had yearned to see your face, to hear your laughter, to feel the warmth of your touch. And now, as he sat beside you, surrounded by the gentle hum of the airport and the comforting presence of his friends, Satoru realized that this was where he truly belonged.

In your company, Satoru found a sense of peace and happiness that he had never known before. You were his anchor in this strange world, his guiding light through the darkness of uncertainty. And even though he could never express the depth of his feelings for you, he took comfort in the knowledge that he was with you, sharing this moment of bliss together. As the weight of his past burdens lifted from his shoulders, Satoru smiled, his heart overflowing with love and gratitude. For in this moment, surrounded by the ones he cherished most, he knew that he was home.

“Does he know?” You asked Satoru, looking at him with a soft tone.

He looked at you with his blue eyes, his glasses lowering. “Who?”

“That boy, you’ve been taking care of.” You whisper back to him.

“How'd you know about him?”

“I met his father around here—”

"Who cares?" Geto's voice cut through the silence, breaking the tension with a note of indifference. “He killed you.”

"I know" you retorted back, your tone gentle yet firm. "But he deserves to know about his dad too, you know. That boy….family ties run deep, especially when it comes to matters of the heart."

With a thoughtful nod, Satoru left the topic hanging in the air, shifting the focus to more pressing matters. "I've left it with Shoko to handle," he added, his tone indicating a sense of finality.

“We’re not even sure if you’re dead yet.” You whisper back to him, your hand resting on his. “You’ll be able to tell him.”

Satoru didn’t know how to tell you.

But you looked so beautiful to him.

He didn’t want to leave you here.

He wanted to stay with you and Suguru.

He wanted to be happy here, together.

“How was fighting Sukuna?” Suguru asked him, changing the topic.

"He was strong," Satoru admitted, his voice tinged with respect. "Even though he wasn't giving his all."

Suguru nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful as he considered Satoru's words. "It must have been quite the battle," he remarked, his eyes reflecting a mixture of admiration and curiosity.

Satoru's lips curled into a wry smile, his demeanor surprisingly casual given the intensity of the confrontation. "It was exhilarating," he admitted, his voice carrying a note of genuine enjoyment. "But I can't help but feel a twinge of pity for Sukuna. He didn't bring his full strength to the table."

You couldn't help but laugh at Satoru's nonchalant attitude, leaning affectionately against him as you basked in his presence. His scent enveloped you, a comforting reminder of the bond you shared. "Only the strongest would say something like that," you remarked fondly, your eyes sparkling with admiration. "As expected of you."

Geto's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of jealousy briefly clouding his expression as he processed Satoru's words. "That's what sets him apart," he acknowledged quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of envy. "But if you're content with the outcome, then perhaps that's all that truly matters."

Satoru's grin widened at Geto's response, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. "I suppose I would have been more satisfied if you were there to spur me on," he teased, his tone laced with sincerity. He gently looks at Suguru and then at you. “It would have made me feel a little bit more at ease.”

“Don’t you mean, less cocky?” Suguru teased him back but Satoru just laughed.

You take a moment to express your heartfelt gratitude to Satoru, your voice filled with genuine emotion as you speak. "I'm proud of you, Satoru," you say, your words carrying the weight of years of admiration and affection. "After all you've done, after all you've been through... I'm just so happy to see you again, to be together with you and Suguru."

As you gaze at Satoru, a sense of completeness washes over you, the weight of years of separation lifting from your shoulders. "You've brought so much light into my life," you continue, your voice soft but filled with conviction. "My heart feels whole again, thanks to you."

“South or north,” Satoru says, after a moment of silence. “Where do you think I should go?”

Satoru's question lingered in the air like a heavy fog, casting a veil of uncertainty over the moment. You and Suguru exchanged a meaningful glance, both understanding the weight of Satoru's decision. Going south meant embracing the reunion, journeying together towards an uncertain but hopeful future. Going north meant bidding farewell once again, facing the prospect of separation with stoic resolve.

"Moving south," you begin, your gaze drifting towards the direction of the plane resting on the tarmac. You turn back to Satoru, a smile playing on your lips, though this one carries a hint of somberness. "Means you'll stay as you are."

Satoru takes in your words, his expression thoughtful as he absorbs their implications. Leaning against the airport bench, he looks at you and Suguru, the two people who make up his world, with a sense of resolve. "Here," he breathes out, his voice tinged with determination. "True to myself."

Suguru nods in understanding, his gaze shifting between you and Satoru. "But to go north…," he begins, his tone gentle yet firm. "You'll discover a new part of yourself. Another you."

Satoru's expression tightens slightly, the weight of his decision bearing down on him. "But without you," he adds, his voice heavy with unspoken regret. It's a realization he never wanted to voice, but one he knows he must confront. He isn't truly dead, and he can feel it as much as you can.

Your eyes soften as you meet Satoru's gaze, your palm instinctively resting on top of his hand in a gesture of comfort. "Just for now," you assure him, your voice filled with warmth and understanding. "It's not forever."

"We'll wait for you, until the next flight," Suguru chimes in, his grin conveying unwavering strength for the blue eyed sorcerer. Together, the three of you stand at the crossroads of possibility, each prepared to face the future with courage and determination, no matter which path Satoru chooses. “Even if everyone goes ahead, we’ll be here. Waiting for you.”

Satoru's eyes soften as he stands, his gaze shifting towards the north. With a determined nod, he takes a step forward, his eyes meeting yours with a depth of emotion that transcends words. Leaning in, he presses a gentle kiss on your hair, a silent gesture of gratitude and affection for all that you mean to him.

Satoru's warm smile illuminated his features as he turned to Suguru, a silent expression of gratitude and affection passing between them. With gentle tenderness, he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on Suguru's cheek, a simple yet profound gesture of love and reassurance.

Suguru's eyes met Satoru's, a softness reflecting in their depths as they exchanged a silent conversation. It was a moment of quiet understanding, a wordless exchange that spoke volumes of their deep bond and unwavering commitment to each other.

In that moment, as you looked at them and they looked back at you, you felt a profound sense of reassurance. Their eyes held the promise of a brighter tomorrow, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the enduring power of love. It was as if they were whispering to you with the windows of their souls, assuring you that everything would be alright, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

As Satoru straightens, his resolve firm and his heart heavy with the weight of his decision, he meets your gaze one last time. In that fleeting moment, you share a silent understanding, a mutual promise to await his return and embrace whatever the future may hold. Suguru wraps his arms around you, grinning at Satoru.

With one final glance at the two of you. You urge him forward, your eyes swimming with a watery glaze. He smiles at you and whispers to you, to Suguru – ‘I love you’;

‘I know.’ Both you and Suguru whisper back.

As Gojo Satoru takes a deep breath, his gaze fixed towards the north, a sense of resolve washes over him. He knows not what awaits him on the path ahead, but he steps forward with unwavering courage and determination. The road may be shrouded in uncertainty, but he finds solace in the knowledge that the bonds of love, forged over years of companionship and camaraderie, will serve as his guiding light.

You and Suguru stand by, silent witnesses to Satoru's journey, your presence a source of strength and support. Though the time for your reunion may not yet have come, Satoru carries your wishes in his heart as he ventures forth into the unknown. He is determined to fulfill your desire for him to live a long and happy life, to carry on in your memory and honor your legacy.

But there are tasks still left unfinished, promises yet to be fulfilled. Satoru's thoughts turn to the future, to the responsibilities that await him. He must see to it that your final wishes are carried out, that you and Suguru find peace together. He must be there for Shoko, for Megumi, for his students who look up to him with admiration and respect. They still need him, relying on his guidance and wisdom to navigate the trials that lie ahead.

With each step he takes, Satoru embraces the uncertainty of the journey, knowing that with courage and determination, he will find his way home. And though the road may be long and fraught with challenges, he walks it with the assurance that love will light the way, leading him back to the warmth and comfort of your embrace, one day. But not yet. For now, he walks forward, his heart filled with hope and his spirit fortified by the knowledge that you and Suguru will always be with him, guiding him home.

It may take some time.

He’d be away from you.

But he knows he’ll return.

Three of you, together.

You’ll be happy together.

173 notes · View notes

mn-light · 3 months

Text

Fear

Orter Madl x Reader (Y/N)

Happy ending.

･ﾟﾟ･｡

Orter Madl sighed as he strolled through the bustling streets of the city, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. The sun was shining brightly overhead, casting a warm glow over the colorful buildings and lively crowds. It was a typical day in the magical realm, filled with laughter, chatter, and the occasional burst of magic.

As a Divine Visionary tasked with keeping the peace in the realm, Orter was used to the chaos of city life. He navigated through the crowded streets with ease, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of trouble. Despite his serious demeanor, Orter couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment as he observed the hustle and bustle of the city.

However, beneath his composed exterior, Orter harbored a deep-seated fear. It was a fear that gnawed at him relentlessly, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it. It was the fear of not being able to protect those he cared about, especially someone as dear to him as Y/N.

Y/N was a fellow Visionary, a bright and spirited individual who had captured Orter's heart from the moment they met. They shared a deep bond forged through countless adventures and battles fought side by side. Y/N's unwavering courage and determination had earned Orter's respect and admiration, but they had also awakened a sense of protectiveness within him that he couldn't ignore.

Despite his best efforts to shield Y/N from harm, Orter couldn't shake the feeling of dread that gripped him whenever they embarked on a mission together. He was haunted by the thought of failing to keep Y/N safe, of being unable to fulfill his duty as a Visionary and a friend.

As Orter wandered through the streets, lost in his thoughts, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling of unease that gnawed at him. He knew that danger lurked around every corner in the magical realm, and he couldn't afford to let his guard down, especially when it came to protecting Y/N.

Little did he know, their next adventure would put his fears to the ultimate test, forcing him to confront his deepest insecurities and fight for the one he held closest to his heart.

･ﾟﾟ･｡

Orter's heart races as he holds you in his arms, feeling a mix of relief and fear washing over him. He couldn't shake off the image of you falling, of the helplessness he felt as he watched you crumble to the ground. The thought of losing you, even for a moment, sends shivers down his spine.

"You scared the hell out of me," Orter whispers, his voice trembling with emotion as he holds you tighter, as if afraid you might slip away again.

You feel his arms around you, offering both comfort and protection, and you bury your face in his chest, taking solace in his presence. Despite his stoic demeanor, you can sense the worry etched into every line of his body.

"I'm sorry," you mumble against his robes, your voice muffled by the fabric. "I didn't mean to worry you."

Orter pulls back slightly, his hands framing your face as he looks into your eyes with intensity. "I don't care about that," he says firmly. "I care about you. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you."

You swallow hard, overwhelmed by his sincerity. "I'm okay," you assure him, mustering a small smile. "Thanks to you."

Orter's expression softens, and he leans in to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I'll always be here for you," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "No matter what."

For a moment, the weight of his words hangs between you, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, seeking comfort in the warmth of his embrace. In that moment, surrounded by darkness and uncertainty, you find solace in each other's presence, knowing that together, you can face whatever challenges lie ahead.

And as the night stretches on, you find yourselves lost in each other's company, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten as you cling to the hope and light that shines between you.

#Orter Madl #Mashle #Orter x reader #too little fics regarding mashle so need to make one #first post so wohoo

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thepenguinwriter · 2 months

Text

°• The main cast + Lucifer ♡ Wholesome Lust •°

°• Fem!succubus!reader •°

~ Contains; fem!succubus!reader (obv), spoilers for ep 6 (at Vaggie's part), vague mention of Valentino, mention of depression, wholesomeness, all relationships platonic except for Lucifer's

~ All gifs from @/atttwoood (except for the Lucifer one)

~ Small tw; possible eyestrain/bright colours for the gifs

°• Charlie •°

- ♡ She's absolutely DELIGHTED to meet another hellborn

- ♡ Especially someone from a different ring

- ♡ She may be the Princess of Hell but she, surprisingly, doesn't travel her realm much

- ♡ She loves hearing about your culture, which is why you often end up telling her stories

- ♡ And we know demons from Lust are the only ones who have Asmodean crystals and are able to traverse to the human realm

- ♡ When she finds out, she squeals and begs to hear tales about what life on Earth is like

- ♡ She knows nothing at all about it apart from the tales of creation, but that is not much

- ♡ You don't believe hellborn demons can be redeemed, but you stay at the hotel. For her sake.

°• Vaggie •°

- ◇ Oh boy, was she MAD when you showed up at the hotel

- ◇ She's a fallen angel, she knows jackshit about different culture in Hell, so she is absolutely confused when you tell her you were born in Hell

- ◇ She thought Charlie was special for that??

- ◇ You explain that you're a succubus, to which she can only become more defensive

- ◇ All she's heard of your kind were dreadful stories about you sucking life out of men in their sleep, or something along those lines..

- ◇ She only agrees to let you in after her dearest, Charlie convinces her

- ◇ It was after a stressful day when you were both alone in the hotel parlor, sitting in silence

- ◇ You were fidgeting with a strange ring so she asked you about it

°• "Oh, this? It's an Asmodean Crystal!" •°

- ◇ After the confusion for her wore off you explained to her what they were for, and she listened in stunned silence

- ◇ A demon able to go to the living world? How is that even possible?!

- ◇ Whenever you return from a visit to the human world, you always bring her a small trinket

- ◇ She coos quietly and gives you a hug. She hates to admit it, but she's warmes up to you.

°• Angel Dust •°

- ♡ The first thing that caught his attention was the fact that you were from the Lust ring

- ♡ He immediately started questioning you about what it's like there

- ♡ Given his circumstances with Val, he was shocked to hear how nice you described it

- ♡ He always jokes with you about him actually belonging there, but he really does wish he could go with you for a visit

- ♡ But of course, sinners are stuck in the Pride ring. Bummer.

- ♡ You always make sure to bring him something from your home ring though if you visit

- ♡ A little knick-knack, if you will

- ♡ He's even more intrigued when you tell him about the Asmodean Crystals

- ♡ He pesters you with questions constantly about how the world is currently going

- ♡ You can't help but chuckle at his enthusiasm.

°• Alastor •°

- ♤ Oh, what's this? A hellborn demon?

- ♤ He is INTRIGUED

- ♤ He isn't a big conversation starter, so he only ever talks to you when you come to him

- ♤ But he enjoys your company quite a lot, actually

- ♤ He, like Charlie, loves hearing about your culture and myths surrounding it

- ♤ He isn't really interested in the Lust ring itself, but you make it sound so good it's hard not to listen

- ♤ One morning he invites you to drink tea with him

- ♤ It was then that he noticed your unusual ring and asked about it

- ♤ When I tell you he is fascinated, I'm understating it

- ♤ But he isn't interested in prying about the living world like Angel

- ♤ In his opinion, technology has ruined many things already

- ♤ You roll your eyes a bit at his dramatic speech, but a smile is plastered on your face.

°• Husk •°

- ♤ In all honesty, he does not care a single bit about where you came from

- ♤ As long as you don't bother him, you're alright in his book

- ♤ You often come to the bar and talk to him, which is why he knows so much about you against his will

- ♤ You absolutely tell him embarrasing things you've seen humans do while drunk

- ♤ You might even try seducing him if you're really wasted, but he shuts that off quickly

- ♤ He starts seeing a lot of similarities between you and Angel

- ♤ You're basically the more mentally stable version

- ♤ He doesn't pry about your life at all

- ♤ He's just glad to have a... somewhat stable drinking buddy

°• Niffty •°

- ◇ Niffty's just a clueless chaotic gremlin

- ◇ She's very curious and asks a lot of questions, but you bet your ass when you start answering, if she sees a bug she will run off without hesitation

- ◇ Girlie's attention span doesn't exist

- ◇ She's trying, but she can't help it

- ◇ But one thing that REALLY interests her is your weird, shiny ring...

- ◇ The whole time you're telling her about it, she's staring at it with the BIGGEST sparkling eyes

- ◇ She keeps it safe from the other residents because she views it as such a special thing

- ◇ She's CONSTANTLY cleaning it too, to keep it bright and shiny!

°• Sir Pentious •°

- ◇ To be honest, he's been here for such a long time and he's still SO DAMN CLUELESS about everything

- ◇ He's so interested when you tell him you're from the Lust ring

- ◇ Mostly because he has literally no idea what you're talking about

- ◇ You tell him everything and you see his gaze gradually lighting up more and more until they're as bright as christmas lights

- ◇ He probably did not notice your crystal ring at all actually

- ◇ But after you explain it, he can't talk about anything else

- ◇ He CONSTANTLY, and I do mean constantly, pesters you with questions about the Lust ring, the human world, being a succubus, etc. In his own awkward way

- ◇ Man is so awkward he just does not know when to stop

- ◇ You're so interesting to him, he cherishes you more than anyone else.

°• Lucifer •°

- ☆ Lucifer never thought he'd find love again

- ☆ Especially from someone who's hellborn

- ☆ But here you were - a simple succubus, sweeping the King of Hell off his feet

- ☆ He could only hope his second wife wouldn't leave him like Lilith...

- ☆ You, surprising to him, are very understanding regarding his trauma and depression

- ☆ Hearing you talk enthusiastically about your home ring always brings the biggest smile onto his face

- ☆ Meeting your new step-daughter was quite awkward at first, but you got along surprisingly well

- ☆ You take him to visit the Lust ring on special occasions

- ☆ He is always amazed, no doubt

- ☆ For a long time, he thought all of Hell was a mistake, all his fault

- ☆ But ever since he met you, he's glad he offered the apple to Eve.

Hello my dear readers! I tried a new format, what do yall think? 👀 anyway this took me SO long, like literally 3 hours or smth so. Hope u enjoy!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #hazbin x reader #charlie x reader #vaggie x reader #angel dust x reader #alastor x reader #husk x reader #niffty x reader #sir pentious x reader #lucifer x reader #x reader

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moris-auri · 3 months

Text

I never knew daylight could be so violent.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female reader

Warnings: angst, spoilers for Fire and Blood, canon typical behavior, oral (f receiving), smut

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: Fear weighs heavily the night before Aemond is to set out for the Riverlands.

A/n: beta'd by @sapphire-writes tyty and ilysm 💙💙💙

Taglist: @bottlesandbarricades @black-dread @orcaunionleader @arcielee @helaelaemond @artyoms

"I don't want you to go."

Even to her ears the words sound weak, and she has the inkling that her voice is much the same. Threadbare and worn, her nerves frayed to almost nothing but ragged edges. Her voice trembles as she speaks, staring up at the canopy over their bed blankly. Her heart thuds, pounding like a drum behind her ribs, all but betraying the fear she's tried to hide in the hours it's been since the words left her husband's mouth mere moments after he returned from the Small Council, brow furrowed and bearing an unreadable expression on his face just as the sun had begun to set, casting an orange glow to his spun silver hair.

She fails though, almost pitifully so, when she feels the all too familiar sting of tears begin to form in the corner of her eyes. She blinks furiously as she raises one hand to drag the back of it across her eyes in an attempt to hide her tears from him. Not that it'll do any good, when even the thought of it makes her stomach churn sourly, bile rising in her throat.

The tears fall despite her efforts, trailing a path over her cheeks in a way where she can almost taste them on her lips. Salty, but not entirely unpleasant. She half hears Aemond’s barely half exasperated sigh, a long, slow breath that makes strands of her hair flutter around her face. She feels his arms tighten around her almost to the point of crushing, but she doesn’t care, wishing for nothing more than to stay like this with him, childish as it is.

"But I must." He murmurs the words quietly, sounding almost as torn as she does, but she hears the resolute note lurking just beneath the surface, his thumb stroking a mindless pattern over the skin on the inside of her wrist. She half turns in his hold, the best she can anyway, tilting her chin back to look at him. His hair frames his face like a halo, a curtain of silver fire laying flat against the pillows beneath his head.

"Why?"

The question sits like a stone inside her, adding on to the worry churning roughly in her belly. She holds her breath as she watches his nostrils flare and the corners of his lips tighten. "We've talked about this, ñuha jorrāelagon. I rule in my brother’s stead. Du-"

She grumbles something irritably under her breath at that, frowning as she turns her head in the opposite direction. Duty. Duty. Duty.

She loves Aemond, she does, more than anything, but his sense of duty is one of the things she has grown to dislike the most about him in the almost year they have been married. As is his urge and his desire to prove himself, whether by the time he spends in the training yard or flying on the back of the largest dragon in the realm. To step out of his brother's shadow and make his own way in this world.

She tangles her hands in his hair, her nails scratching against his scalp, the motion drawing a sound that teeters between a groan and a whine from his mouth. She shifts her body as she draws him to her, pressing her lips to his, pouring all the things she cannot say into it. I love you. I need you. Stay. Please.

"Don't make me watch you leave," she ends up pleading instead, panting softly as she slides one hand from his hair to under his jaw, his skin hot and near burning under her fingertips.

"Mine own wife would not see me off?" He breathes almost tauntingly, his hand shifting to settle over hers as he kisses her again, once, twice and a third time, subsequently swallowing her protests. His knee slips between her thighs, the broad width of his hand withdrawing from her face to spread wide over the expanse of her lower back, the heat from it scorching through the thin fabric of her shift.

"I could n-" she croaks, digging her fingers into his shoulder blades without a care, moaning against his mouth as she tilts her head to the side to grant him further access. He groans something unintelligible against her mouth when she makes a faint noise of protest as he pulls away, his attention shifting lower.

"Will you let me taste you?" he rasps, his hand curling around her hip, delivering a sharp nip to one collarbone that has her letting out a yelp, her body twitching at the brief flare of pain that forms under her skin. He eyes her unabashedly, the look in his eye as heated as she's ever seen it, an intoxicating mix of unconcealed want and lust that has the ache between her thighs growing. She stares up at him, lips parting involuntarily in surprise.

"You have to ask?" She half whines the question, her voice cracking on the last word. "Aemond-"

He smirks in response, his eye darkening as he hums something under his breath. His eye darts down a second later, no doubt feeling the bumps that rise over her skin as she shivers beneath him. "Let me give you something to remember then," he says roughly, his smirk only seeming to grow wider as he speaks, gaining an almost smug edge to it.

His eye never leaves her face, his touch bordering on reverent as he slides his fingers under the straps of her shift, pushing it down her arms, bearing more of her body to the chill of the room. The bed creaks as he shifts, looming over her on his knees as he blindly tosses the garment to the side without a second thought. She bites her lip, tugging it between her teeth as the smell of him all but invades her senses, potent and rich and more than a little addicting.

His grip on her hips turns almost bruising as he slides down the length of her body before settling between her thighs, his eye flicking from her cunt to her face and back again. "I've barely touched you," he croons, and she can practically feel his smugness now, emanating from his every pore as he withdrew his finger, wiping it along the skin of her thigh.

He wedged his arm underneath her hips, bringing his eye to be level with her cunt, the hunger within his pupil growing. She moans then, cannot help it really, when the sensation of his breath fans over her already oversensitive cunt makes her hips buck, back arching at the feel of his mouth on her. It feels like an eternity of overflow of sensation after sensation, a too pretty form of torment that she would not change for the world.

Aemond replaced his mouth with his hand, slipping one finger inside her, crooking the digit in such a way that dragged yet another wave of moans from her. Her mouth falls open as she grips the bed linens tightly, her knuckles standing out starkly under her skin, a twinge of pain shooting up her arm, a faint, pulsating throb in her upper arm. She relaxed her grasp almost immediately, the pain fading more with each flex of her hand.

She murmured his name again, extending her hand outward blindly in search of him, exhaling a low breath when his fingers twine with hers, watching him press his lips to her skin through half lidded eyes. His cock pressed against the inside of her thigh, his fingers brushing over her mussed hair, his previously smug expression fading as the events of the past day seemed to finally catch up with him. The fear she had felt earlier felt as distant as one of the Free Cities now, something she could easily cast from her mind without a thought.

"I meant what I said, you know, that I will not watch you leave," she said softly, dragging one hand mindlessly up and down his arm as she spoke, feeling the dusting of silver hair beneath her fingers that was nearly invisible in the dark. "I will be here waiting when you come back," she added, dropping her hand as she returned her gaze to his face.

#my fics #house of the dragon #aemond fic #aemond x original character #a song of ice and fire #hotd fics #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond the kinslayer #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond smut #aemond targaryen fan fiction #ocappreciation #aemond oneshot #aemond #prince aemond

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marinawolf · 9 months

Text

Always (supercorp)

Lena has nightmares every night and only Kara can keep them at bay.

Kara finds every excuse to spend the night in Lena's bed so that Lena can sleep.

a soft, fluffy and angsty supercorp fic.

Lena lay in bed, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, but her mind stubbornly refusing to give in to sleep. Night after night, the same haunting nightmares tormented her, a relentless loop of horror that had become all too familiar. It had been a month since that dreadful day when Lex had blown up a building and then turned his madness towards her.

The scar on her stomach throbbed, a constant physical reminder of that traumatic encounter. She traced her fingers over the faint line, a painful memory etched into her skin. Closing her eyes, she could vividly recall that nightmarish moment. The memory played out like a horrifying movie reel in her mind.

Lex, his face contorted with manic rage, covered in sweat and soot from the destruction he had wrought. His eyes glinted with a dangerous intensity as he approached her, a knife concealed up his sleeve.

"This is your last chance to join me, sister," his voice dripped with a chilling mix of desperation and malice.

Lena's response had been firm and resolute, her voice unwavering, "Never."

Lex lunged at her, the knife flashing in the dim light. The searing pain as the blade sliced through her flesh, the shock and disbelief that followed, and then a wave of darkness that enveloped her as her vision blurred and her body gave way.

Just as the darkness threatened to consume her completely, a distant voice penetrated the void. Kara's voice, a desperate scream that pierced through the fog of unconsciousness. But Lena was already slipping away, unable to fight against the pull of oblivion.

Back in the present, Lena's body finally succumbed to its overwhelming fatigue, her eyelids drooping as her thoughts continued to race. She fought against the encroaching sleep, desperately clinging to consciousness. But the battle was a losing one, and eventually, her mind gave in.

The nightmares returned with a vengeance, a macabre tapestry of fear and torment that painted her subconscious in vivid shades of terror. The sound of explosions echoed in her ears, and the memory of Lex's crazed expression haunted her once more. Lena thrashed in her sleep, trapped in a nightmarish cycle that seemed impossible to escape.

As the nightmares intensified, Lena's eyes snapped open, her body drenched in sweat, heart racing. She was back in her room, the dim light casting eerie shadows on the walls. Gasping for air, Lena realized that the room felt suffocating, the weight of her memories and fears pressing down on her. She sat up, her breathing ragged, and rubbed her temples as she tried to shake off the residual terror. She knew she couldn't go on like this, trapped in a cycle of sleepless nights and haunting dreams. But finding a way out seemed impossible, her trauma a prison from which there was no escape.

Exhausted and defeated, Lena lay back down, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. She longed for respite, for a moment of peace, but she knew that the night was far from over, and the nightmares would likely return once more. With a heavy sigh, she braced herself for another sleepless night.

The following night, Lena slid into bed and found herself staring at the ceiling, her heart racing, her breath uneven. She couldn't bear the thought of closing her eyes, of succumbing once more to the terrors that awaited her in the realm of dreams.

With a sigh, she reached over to turn off her lamp, plunging her room into darkness. But just as she settled back against her pillows, a soft knock echoed through the room, startling her. Lena's heart skipped a beat, her body tensing as she cautiously got out of bed.

She padded across the room, her breath catching in her throat when she saw the familiar sight of Kara standing on the balcony, clad in her Supergirl suit. The moonlight illuminated her tousled, windswept blonde hair, and the suit accented her lean physique and the well-defined muscles beneath the suit. Her blue eyes shimmered in the night, and her lips curled into a beautiful smile that made Lena's heart race.

"Kara, hi. What are you doing here?" Lena managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kara's smile widened, her eyes glinting with a playful sparkle. "Hey, Lena. I was on patrol nearby and I'm absolutely exhausted. Do you mind if I crash here?"

Lena's mind was a whirlwind of emotions, but all she could muster was a simple, "No, not at all."

Lena let Kara into her penthouse. Kara often crashed at Lena's after game nights or movie nights but this felt different somehow.

Lena handed Kara a pair of her sweats and a t-shirt, their fingers briefly grazing against each other, sending a shiver of electricity through Lena's veins.

"Thanks, Lena," Kara said appreciatively before disappearing into the bathroom to change. Lena watched the closed door, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. She took a seat on the edge of her bed, the anticipation building as she waited for Kara to emerge.

The moments ticked by, each second feeling like an eternity as Lena's heart raced. The quiet rustling of fabric signaled Kara's return, and Lena's breath caught as she looked up to see Kara stepping out of the bathroom, dressed in Lena's clothes. The clothes were slightly short on Kara, exposing a tantalizing glimpse of her toned abs. Lena's throat went dry, and she swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest, her fingers itching to trace the path of those well-defined muscles..

She had always known that her feelings for Kara ran deeper than the love one felt for a friend, a truth she had carefully kept hidden behind carefully constructed walls of friendship, but in moments like this, she struggled to keep her feelings at bay.

Normally, Kara would retire to one of the guest rooms, and Lena had assumed tonight would be no different. But to Lena's surprise, Kara moved with graceful purpose, sliding into Lena's bed as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Despite the many nights they had spent under the same roof, Kara had never slept in Lena's bed. This was something Lena had never even dared to imagine, even in her wildest dreams.

With cautious steps, Lena slipped under the covers, settling beside Kara. The bed seemed impossibly small, the space between them charged with an electric tension. Kara turned onto her side, facing Lena, and Lena mirrored her position, their gazes locked.

"Goodnight, Lena," Kara whispered, her breath ghosting over Lena's lips before she closed her eyes.

"Goodnight, Kara."

Lena found herself acutely aware of Kara's presence beside her. With her eyes closed, she tried to find a sense of calm, allowing the rhythm of Kara's breath to guide her.

As time passed, Lena felt herself gradually relaxing, the softness of the moment easing the usual restlessness that plagued her nights. The fear of nightmares still lingered, but it felt distant.

She felt herself surrendering to sleep. The sound of Kara's steady breathing became comforting.

In the quiet darkness of the room, Lena's consciousness slipped away, her mind finally finding a respite from the torment of her past. As sleep claimed her, the usual nightmares were conspicuously absent.

The soft, warm rays of morning light gently filtered through the curtains, casting a serene glow over the room. Lena stirred, gradually awakening from the depths of slumber, her senses slowly coming to life. The sensation that enveloped her was one of warmth and security, a comfort she hadn't experienced in a long time.

She realised that Kara's arms were tightly wrapped around her and her body was pressed against Lena's back, their forms fitting together as if they were two pieces of a puzzle perfectly aligned.

Lena's heart danced within her chest as she felt Kara's breath ghosting against the back of her neck, a sensation that sent shivers of delight down her spine. The intimacy of the moment was intoxicating and left her heart racing dangerously.

Kara stirred beside her, her movements slow and gentle. Lena could hear a soft, almost inaudible mumble from Kara, the sound of her voice tugging at Lena's heartstrings. "Oh, sorry," Kara's voice was a gentle whisper.

Lena felt a twinge of disappointment as Kara began to extricate herself from their embrace.

As Lena turned to look at Kara, her eyes were met with a sleepy smile that seemed to illuminate the entire room. Lena's heart skipped a beat as she took in the sight of Kara's tousled hair and the soft lines of her face.

"Morning," Kara's voice was soft and sleepy.

Lena's fingers itched to reach out, to brush away the hair that had fallen across Kara's forehead, to trace the delicate curve of her cheek. But a sense of shyness held her back, a lingering hesitation that reminded her of the boundaries Lena had always maintained.

Over the course of the next two weeks, Lena's life took an unexpected turn. To her immense surprise and relief, Kara seemed to find a reason, however small, to spend every single night in Lena's bed. It was a pattern that quickly became a comforting routine. Each evening, as the world outside dipped into the embrace of night, Kara would slip into Lena's bed, a shield against the haunting nightmares that had held Lena captive for far too long.

Lena's waking moments became increasingly filled with the sense of Kara's proximity. She would wake up each morning wrapped in Kara's strong arms, the gentle rise and fall of her chest against Lena's back serving as a soothing reassurance. The nightmares, which had once been an unrelenting torment, remained at bay, their usual grip loosening with every passing night.

Lena reveled in the comfort of Kara's embrace and her eyes often lingered on Kara's serene features as they lay tangled together under the covers. Yet, amidst the warmth of Kara's presence, Lena was fighting her feelings.

Lena's feelings for Kara deepened with every night they spent together, the lines between friendship and something more becoming more blurred each night. She found herself captivated by Kara's laughter, drawn to the way her eyes sparkled when she shared stories of her day, enchanted by her bashful grace.

But Lena couldn't ignore the growing questions that tugged at her thoughts. Why was Kara staying over so often? The skepticism that had once colored her perception of others now cast a shadow over her moments of happiness. Lena's heart raced, her mind a whirlwind of uncertainty as she tried to make sense of the situation.

One evening, as they sat together on Lena's couch, wrapped in a blanket and sipping tea, Lena's resolve solidified. The time had come to breach the subject that had been gnawing at her. She looked at Kara, her gaze a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Kara, is everything okay?"

Kara turned her head to meet Lena's eyes, her expression serene yet guarded. "Mm, yes, why?"

Lena's lips twitched into a half-smile, the tension in the room palpable. "You've spent the last fourteen nights here. Is there something going on? Not that I don't love having you stay over—I really do. But if you're having problems with your apartment or something, I can help."

Kara's blue eyes flickered, her gaze momentarily shifting before she leaned in closer to Lena. Her fingers, warm and tender, slipped beneath Lena's shirt, tracing a path over the jagged scar on Lena's abdomen. Lena's breath hitched as Kara's touch sent shivers of sensation through her.

"You know every night on patrol, I fly past your penthouse to check on you? Just to listen to your heartbeat and make sure you're okay." Kara's voice held a mix of vulnerability and sincerity, her fingertips mapping the contours of Lena's scar as if tracing a roadmap of the past. "Especially since everything with Lex, since he hurt you. I heard your nightmares every night, Lena, and it pained me to see you so broken. And when I stayed over that first night, I noticed that the nightmares didn't come. So I thought maybe if I stayed over, you could sleep better."

Lena's eyes glistened with unshed tears as Kara's words sank in, the depth of Kara's care astounding to her. She felt a lump forming in her throat.

"Sorry," Kara continued, "I know I should have told you, but I know you would think that I was inconveniencing myself or something. But I'm not. I want you to be okay, Lena, and I'll do anything for you. If I could undo what happened, I would. But I can't, so this is something I can do for you."

Lena was speechless. Tears pricked at the corners of Lena's eyes as Kara's words washed over her, a wave of emotions crashing against the walls she had carefully constructed around her heart. Kara's selflessness had left her utterly stunned, and Lena realized that no one had ever cared for her so deeply, so unconditionally before. She couldn't hold back the tears that spilled from her eyes, the floodgates of her emotions breaking open.

Kara. Sweet Kara. Always there for Lena, always looking out for her. Lena had never felt such profound love before.

Moved beyond words, Lena leaned forward, her heart pounding against her chest. Her hand found Kara's, their fingers intertwining. Kara's gaze on her held her captive.

The floodgates of vulnerability opened, and before she could think, before she could second-guess herself, she acted on the feelings she had been hiding for so long.

Lena leaned forward, her heart pounding in her chest as she pressed her lips against Kara's. The kiss was a confession, an unspoken declaration of every feeling she had hidden behind those walls for so long.

Kara froze for a second and Lena's heart stopped, but just as quickly, her lips began moving against Lena's- a soft, desperate kiss. There was a vulnerability in the way Kara kissed her back, a raw honesty that stripped away any doubts Lena may have had. Her heart felt like it was going to explode. Kara was kissing her back and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

Time seemed to stand still as their lips moved against each other. Lena's fingers trembled as they found their way to Kara's cheek, her touch gentle and filled with wonder. The taste of Kara's lips was a revelation.

As the kiss finally drew to a close, Lena pulled back slightly, her eyes fluttering open to meet Kara's gaze.

"Thank you," she whispered, “for being here.”

And Kara smiled that blindingly beautiful smile, and whispered, "Always" before crashing her lips against Lena's once more.

#supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl #kara x lena #supercorp fanfic #kara zor el #fanfic #kara danvers x lena luthor #lena luthor x kara danvers #lena and kara #protective kara danvers #supergirl imagine #cw supergirl #supergirl crack #supergirl tv #supercorp fluff #kara zor el x lena luthor #supercorp first kiss

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infamous-light · 5 months

Text

Happiness Has Two Hands

Alcina Dimitrescu x Gender Neutral Reader

AO3: Happiness Has Two Hands

Word Count: 1.9K

Summary: While reorganizing the library, an unexpected secret of yours slipped out. Lady Dimitrescu's daughters couldn't resist the temptation to exploit this newfound knowledge.

The library, an expansive realm of knowledge and discovery, stood silent, interrupted only by the gentle rustle of pages from the book Daniela immersed herself in and the occasional crackle of the fireplace where Cassandra reclined. The scent of leather and aged parchment filled the air as you were engrossed in the meticulous task of reorganizing several books. With a careful hand, you retrieved each book, ensuring it found its rightful place among its literary companions.

As you focused on the titles and subjects of the books, Bela moved past you, her footsteps echoing softly against the carpet.

Bela, having walked past you, found herself near a shelf adorned with dusty volumes, her fingers delicately trailing the worn spines. The low light from the antique chandeliers caught the subtle glimmer in her eyes as she ran her hands over the weathered covers. She occasionally plucked a book from the shelf, inspecting it with a thoughtful gaze before returning it to its place.

Cassandra, on the other hand, lounged on a sumptuous chaise near the grand fireplace. The gentle crackling of the burning logs created a lullaby, coaxing her into a peaceful nap. Her chest rose and fell in a slow, rhythmic pattern, and the warmth from the fire cast a soft glow on her features. The occasional flutter of a page turning nearby added a serene ambiance to the room.

Daniela was nestled in a cozy alcove with a particularly intriguing book in her hand. Her eyes were alight with wonder as she devoured the words on the pages. However, in her typical fashion, her attention wavered, and without warning, she closed the book with a resounding thud.

She sprang to her feet and abandoned the book on the velvet-cushioned chair. She began to wander the aisles, drawing closer to your location. Her eyes flickered over the shelves until her attention was ensnared by another book. She reached up, her fingertips tracing the detailed illustrations that adorned the cover.

As Daniela stood on her tiptoes to reach for the book, her sudden imbalance knocked over the nearby pile of books you were reorganizing. You instinctively lunged forward, your hands darting out to catch them mid-fall. Daniela, still regaining her balance, reached out to steady herself. In the process, her fingers brushed against your side in a fleeting moment of unintended contact.

The giggle that ensued broke the library's silence, drawing the attention of Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela. Their eyes met across the room, sharing a moment of shared amusement at the unexpected turn of events.

“Are you ticklish?” Daniela asked slyly as she turned to face you.

“N-No,” you stammered, a subtle nervousness betraying your attempt at composure. “You just caught me off guard. That’s all.”

“Caught off guard, you say?” Bela quipped, a teasing glint in her eyes as she made her way toward you. “That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

Cassandra, intrigued, decided to contribute to the lighthearted banter. "Well, well," she chimed in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "It seems we've uncovered a secret that you neglected to share with us. How rude.” She feigned a pout in your direction.

“Indeed, a most unbecoming secret to keep from us.” Bela tsked, her voice carrying a tone of mock disapproval.

"Quite dreadful, isn't it?" Daniela remarked with a raise of her perfectly arched eyebrow. "Our dear servant hiding such interesting secrets from us,” she continued, her fingers idly tracing patterns on the coffee table nearby. Daniela leaned forward, her eyes shining in amusement. “What other surprises do you have to hide, I wonder?" She tilted her head in mock curiosity. Her grin suggested that the discovery of your ticklish nature had sparked a newfound interest in unraveling more of your delightful secrets.

"Well, now that we know the secret, what should we do about it?" Cassandra mused, her smile growing wider.

"I believe a closer examination is in order." Bela added with a smirk.

With a shared sense of purpose, they closed the distance, their laughter resonating throughout the library. Leading the charge was Daniela, intent to catch you in her clutches. Her fingers wiggled in the air, eyes gleaming bright with excitement.

"Let's see if our diligent servant can withstand the ticklish scrutiny." Daniela declared.

“Don’t you dare.” You warned, your voice laced with a nervous edge as you backed away from them. However, the twinkle in your eye betrayed the fact that, deep down, you were ready to embrace the impending ticklish onslaught.

“Aw, come now, little one. We only want to have some fun.” Bela crooned as she approached you with measured steps, her gaze fixed on you.

Cassandra, quick on her feet, circled from the other side, her fingers poised like a dancer's pirouette. “We won’t torture you much.” She emphasized the last word with a sickeningly sweet grin.

Pausing, you took a hesitant step back. Bela, ever watchful, noticed your uncertainty, and her lips quirked upward into a knowing smile. "You can try to run but you won't get very far."

Taking your chances, you spun on your heel and sprinted, intent on making a swift exit through the library’s main door. Unfortunately, your escape attempt was short-lived. Within a few steps, a pair of hands grabbed each of your arms and pulled you back with surprising strength. The momentum sent you tumbling onto a nearby chaise lounge.

In a matter of seconds, all three girls had you pinned down. Daniela had a firm grip on your ankles, rendering any escape attempts futile. Bela straddled your hips and hovered over you with an air of amused superiority. Meanwhile, Cassandra, positioned above you, had your wrists pinned on either side of your head, leaving you effectively trapped.

As you lay on the chaise lounge, their laughter filling the air, Bela leaned in, her smug smirk widening. "I told you that you wouldn't make it far."

Bela had her fingers poised above your sides. "Shall we see how ticklish they truly are?" She teased; her fingertips were tantalizingly close to your ribs.

Panicking, you began to plead. "Anything but the tickling, please!”

Cassandra, still holding your wrists, interjected, "Begging already? We haven't even started yet."

With a swift and coordinated effort, they began their ticklish onslaught. Bela's fingers glided over your sides, provoking fits of laughter, while Daniela's touch on your ankles intensified the sensory assault. Cassandra, maintaining her hold on your wrists, watched on with a twisted sense of glee.

Bela’s fingers skittered over your sides before deciding to venture into a more ticklish area.

Wearing a sly grin, she directed her attention to your underarms. Her nimble fingers launched a tickling expedition that elicited a new surge of laughter from you.

At the same time, Cassandra seized the opportunity to explore your forearms with devious delight. Her fingers traced intricate patterns along the sensitive skin.

“Please, stop! It tickles!” You cried out in hysterics, laughter bubbling uncontrollably as their fingers continued their merciless assault.

“That’s the point.” Cassandra chuckled, observing your disheveled state.

Amid the ticklish chaos orchestrated by her sisters, Daniela decided to add her own unique touch to the playful assault. She crouched down and removed your shoes, exposing your vulnerable feet to the impending tickle onslaught. As Daniela's fingers descended over the soles of your bare feet, a new wave of laughter erupted from you.

“No, please! No!” You gasped between fits of laughter, the strain on your stomach becoming more pronounced as the tickling persisted.

“Aw, are you out of breath?” Daniela mocked with a teasing lilt. “Poor thing.”

Amidst the laughter, you couldn't help but wriggle in a feeble attempt to evade the relentless tickling. The girls, however, were quick to adapt to your movements, maintaining their grasp and intensifying the ticklish sensations.

"Trying to squirm away, are we?" Cassandra mocked as her fingers trailed up your forearms.

In an abrupt and unexpected move, Bela’s fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt and made contact with the sensitive skin of your lower back. You gasped at the sudden sensation, a burst of laughter escaping your lips. Her fingers traced along the curves of your lower back, and you attempted to shake her off, but your efforts were met with amusement from Bela. Chuckling softly, she reveled in the sight of you squirming under her touch, the dance of your movements adding an extra layer of joy to the impromptu tickle fest.

Taking note of your reactions, Daniela abandoned your feet and shifted her attention to the area under your knees. Her fingers slid up your calves, coming to a deliberate pause at the bend of your knees.

“Wait, no, not the knees!”

But it's too late. Daniela's fingers teased along the delicate skin under your knees, unleashing a cascade of ticklish shivers through your body. Tears streamed down your cheeks as the sensation overwhelmed you.

“You're absolutely adorable like this,” Daniela said, her words accompanied by a wide grin. “Breathless and squirming uncontrollably, it suits you.”

“They do look cute like this.” Bela commented. Her fingers, light as a feather, traced unpredictable patterns along your ribs. The action elicited a sharp yelp from you.

As the tickle torture continued, the doors of the library swung open, drawing the attention of everyone. Lady Dimitrescu stepped inside and came to a halt as her gaze fell upon you all. She arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow, her expression a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“What is happening here?” She asked, her tone laced with genuine curiosity.

Lady Dimitrescu’s heels clicked throughout the library as she approached the scene with measured poise. The corner of her lips quirked ever so slightly as she gazed down at you. You lay there amid the scattered books, breathless, with your cheeks flushed from the exertion of laughter.

“They dared to withhold a secret from us, Mother. It turns out they’re very ticklish.” Daniela said with a playful glint in her eyes.

“Oh?” Lady Dimitrescu tilted her head to the side.

Acting on a sudden mischievous whim, Daniela extended her finger and poked the sole of your foot. You squeaked at the unexpected touch.

“Please, my Lady! Help me!” You pleaded, the desperation in your voice reaching a high note.

A low, melodic chuckle rumbled from Lady Dimitrescu. She regarded you with an amused yet contemplative expression. To the surprise of everyone, she reached down and allowed the tips of her fingers to graze the side of your ribs. The gentle touch prompted an immediate eruption of giggles from you.

“No! Please!”

Lady Dimitrescu chuckled. “I never realized you had a ticklish side, my dear. Though, I must admit, finding this out has been rather entertaining.”

“You’re evil.” You playfully accused while catching your breath.

“I know.” She said with a self-assured smile, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Come on, girls. Release them. I believe you’ve tortured them enough.”

With that, they reluctantly relinquished their grip, freeing you from the clutches of their ticklish assault. They all gave you a grin as they left, each one giving you a lingering promise to continue the encounter. As they sauntered out of the room, their laughter lingered like a melodic echo, fading away.

A gentle touch on your shoulder interrupted your trance, drawing you back to the present moment.

“I believe it’s my turn to indulge in a bit of playful torment.” Lady Dimitrescu announced with a smirk.

As her words hung in the air, a blush crept up your cheeks and you couldn’t help but gulp at the prospect of being under her mercy.

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #resident evil fanfic #lady dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu

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lev1hei1chou · 7 months

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By your side

Gojo x reader Genre: Angst to fluff Words: 4.8k Synopsis: Gojo survives the battle in Shinjuku Masterlist

Everything felt like a sick, twisted nightmare. It all started back in 2006, when Gojo and Geto were tasked with escorting the Star Plasma Vessel to Master Tengen. Although the duo tried their best, Riko Amanai met her end, which really affected Gojo.

To make matters worse, your and Gojo's very close friend, Geto, ultimately decided to choose a different path which definitely did not earn the approval of any sorcerer. Well, his ideals weren't the most practical or ethical, but nothing can really be done once he's fixed his mind.

Seasons dont wait for anyone, and just like that, a good number of years passed. You, Gojo and the others you studied with were now teachers at Jujutsu high. A new student by the name of Yuta entered jujutsu high and was welcomed with open arms. Well, not by the higher ups but no one cares about them. You pitied Yuta, for he was haunted by the girl from his past all because of a curse he bestowed upon her unintentionally.

The boy managed to fit in but the news of both him and Rika reached the ears of Geto, who took this as an opportunity to try exterminate all non sorcerers. The night parade of a hundred demons sure was eventful, but it also marked the end of Suguru Geto, the sorcerer.

To finish off his very own best friend with his very own hands was definitely a great ordeal for Gojo, but you were there for him throughout his mourning period. You shared his grief and helped him recover, atleast for the young talents that were now the responsibility of the teachers.

A year passed, and the boy you saw growing up was now old enough to be enrolled in Jujutsu high. You were proud of how Megumi was doing, since you witnessed his growth right from when Gojo brought him in.

History repeated itself when another teenager was put up for execution by the higher ups, but this was for a different cause. It was baffling, as Yuji Itadori was now a vessel of the great Ryomen Sukuna, due to the turn of events.

Megumi took up the task of narrating the events of that night to you. Although it was hard to process the wave of information, one thing was clear. Yuji does not deserve to get executed and this feeling was mutual to you as well as Gojo. You trusted Gojo well enough and knew he wont let it happen.

Months flew by and it was the 31st of October. Many sorcerers were called to Shibuya. A large curtain was cast, and civilians were trapped inside. It was later made clear that it was orchestrated by Pseudo geto, or Kenjaku and this was a plan to seal Satoru Gojo.

It was painful, to say the least. Your lover was now sealed and put out of commission. And seeing your friend's body get used like this was even more disappointing.

Everything now lay in the hands of the active sorcerers, and that itself was a huge burden to bear. Each and every sorcerer went beyond their limits, and that's when Geto's morally gray ideals ran through your head like a broken record. Forcing yourself to shake off the thoughts, you moved on.

The dreadful night came to an end and the aftermath was something no one ever expected. Your comrades were either dead or fatally wounded, the prison realm was in the hands of kenjaku and Sukuna ransacked the entire area within a short period of time.

To make matters worse, Yuji's sentence was now back.

After recovering from your injuries, everything sunk in. Nanami, your closest friend, was gone. Your students went through hell too. Gojo was sealed. And Yaga, was killed by Gakuganji. You werent particularly fond of the old geezer and this only added to how irritating his whole existence was. As fuel to fire, you heard through someone that Yaga was ordered to be executed by the higher ups, which just increased the level of hatred you had for them. Masamichi Yaga, the only proper and trusted adult figure you had in your life, was now gone.

After a list of events, it was obvious that Kenjaku was unstoppable. He went on with his next act of terrorism: The culling games.

The culling games were just as bad as what you faced on the 31st of October. Multiple sorcerers went against each other with only murder in mind, so you had to prepare yourself mentally. You believed in your students' abilities to make it out alive, but who knows what kind of people they'd have to fight.

Most of your comrades were a part of the games, from students to co-workers and the other allies made in the way. It felt like the heavens were against you being peaceful. There was no going back now.

You ended up running into allies, and when talks of the prison realm and unsealing of Gojo Satoru came up, you learnt that the only two items that were capable of nullifying the realm were the Inverted Spear of Heaven and the Black rope. All you could do was facepalm when you realised that the spear of heaven was in a location known only to Satoru, and the rope was burnt away when Miguel fought against Satoru. There wasnt any left. Sweet.

It was hard to deal with the absence of Satoru. Not only was he a significant other, but also a trustable partner and ally when your job was concerned. The one thing that kept you going was the fact that he was still alive, and could be unsealed one day.

And thus, you set out to find other possible ways to unseal him. After battling against a good number of curse users, you met Yuji, Megumi and Hana. You asked them about how they were doing, especially Yuji. Then, you found out that Hana could possibly be the key to unseal Gojo.

A twisted turn of events occurred, and Megumi was now Sukuna's vessel. Who wouldve guessed that the latter had set his eyes on the former. Yuji was no longer the vessel of the king of curses. Tsumiki was a vessel for some curse called Yorozu. Tsumiki was someone who you cared deeply for. She was an extremely caring person who wasnt even capable of causing harm to anyone. To think she was the one to become a vessel was painful, to say the least.

Sukuna battled out against Yorozu, and as an end to it, the latter lost and was killed, thus putting an end to Tsumiki Fushiguro. You wouldnt blame megumi for falling deeper into an abyss of darkness, as his own hands were now stained with his sister's blood.

A player has added a rule to the culling game. Rule 13: As of this moment- 9:09 PM. on November 19, 2018- No new players may join the culling game.

A player has added a rule to the culling game. Rule 14: The game ends when all players except Suguru Geto and Fushiguro Megumi have died.

Kogane's voice rang when you were with your allies. "To win, we just need to defeat Kenjaku and Sukuna" Maki said to you and Ui Ui. The young boy retorted stating that it was no easy task. Ofcourse it wasnt, but Satoru Gojo would make his return soon.

Everyone regrouped at the room and Yuji entered. You had a good number of formidable allies which gave hope for the next mission to be a success. Choso handed over a book to Yuji. And everyone in the place were now awaiting the return of the strongest sorcerer.

After a long discussion as to why it wasnt a good idea to unseal Gojo inside the building, the location was moved to a different place. The allies took refuge behind the rocks that lay. Your heart pounded with anticipation and hope. Angel used the jacobs ladder to unseal Gojo but he was nowhere to be seen.

Hours later, you were informed that Gojo was inside Shoko's lab with Ijichi and Ino. You were beyond elated to see the love of your life after 19 grueling days that were anything but uneventful but a hint of nervousness lingered for some reason. With shaky arms, you reached out to the handle. Taking a sharp breath, you opened the door and your breath stopped.

There he sat on the bed. For a moment, you felt like all the weariness from the past one month vanished into thin air after taking one look at the man. He seemed better than you thought, with extra muscles and all that. You pinched yourself slightly to confirm that this was all real, and thats when you teared up a little.

Shoko noticed your presence and signalled the others to exit the room. What a thoughtful soul. Satoru was now looking at you as well, smiling widely like the dork he is and waved at you to come nearby. Taking short steps, you walked and took a seat next to him silently.

"You couldve taken a picture when you stood at the door, it would last longer" he teased while taking your hand. You had prepared yourself beforehand to not cry, considering the fact that he wouldve been overwhelmed with all the news from the time he was gone. The task however seemed impossible as you broke down right there.

Satoru was shocked for a moment but then quickly regained his composure as he pulled you into his lap. Hugging him tightly, you cried, as if he'd disappear if you let him go. He was at a loss for words too, which was very unlike him, but hugged back and peppered soft kisses.

Breathing hard, you pulled away and wiped your face. Looking into his eyes, you took his face in your hands and kissed him softly, hoping to pour in all your feelings through the kiss. He was quick to reciprocate with equal love and even smiled while kissing. You realised how much you had missed him.

Pausing to catch your breath, you leaned your forehead on his, and the silent acts of intimacy conveyed all the unspoken words. You hugged him again. "I met Sukuna and the bastard in Geto's body" he started. Not liking where this was going, you hesitantly nodded. He took that as a sign to continue "We'll fight on the 24th of December".

You knew the date very well. This was inevitable from the start, so you decided to put all your belief on your boyfriend. A relationship is all about trust..right?

The fact that he didnt say anything about Megumi puzzled you, but it was better to not ask. "Promise that you'll come back to me safely" you said. He gasped, as if he was offended by the mere thought of you questioning his strength. "Are you serious?" he asked incredulously. "Its not that i dont trust you, Satoru. Its just that its Sukuna you're going up against." you paused before continuing "He has his own techniques and ten shadows." He was still visibly offended and turned his head to the side.

Sighing, you smiled and asked again. "Promise?" "No." he snapped jokingly. Slapping his shoulder lightly, you shook your head at how childish he was. "Fine, I promise" This moment made you forget everything that happened and you breathed in his scent, wanting this to last forever.

Atleast you had one whole month left, until worry would consume you completely.

As expected, the much dreaded day arrived and you waited for Satoru along with your students and allies. Yuji turned to look at someone and there he was, in all glory, accompanied by Utahime and Gakuganji.

The audacity of this old geezer to show up you thought. Hopefully he makes himself useful somehow. Just the sight of him made you want to charge and obliterate him right there, but you held back as his help might be needed. The hatred would never subside though.

"Sensei, your cursed technique's in the way"

Satoru smiled and pointed at his back, and Yuji took the chance to slap his back as a good luck. And just like that, Gojo left to the battlefield. Ijichi created a barrier and Utahime started dancing. Within a short while, the much anticipated battle started.

You stayed back with the allies, in order to observe every detail of the battle that unfolded, ready to jump into action whenever necessary. Anything could be the outcome of this battle and everyone was prepared for that. Anyone will have to jump in, with no concern for their fate and give their all.

The ongoing battle never seemed to stop even for a moment, with both sides using their techniques and domains. The result was hard to predict. Everyone keenly observed the intense fight between the duo.

The thought of what kenjaku might be up to lurked in the back of your head, but there was a well devised plan made, so you turned a blind eye towards the thoughts and went back into observation mode.

A strong and terrible gut feeling made you nauseous. Albeit putting your trust in Satoru, you couldnt ignore the bad vibe. As if your suspicion was being proven, something unexpected happened. Something that left horrified expressions in every face.

All you saw was Sukuna with Mahoraga, unleashing his next attack. Everything froze as you stared in utter disbelief. Satoru's body was cut into two parts, and his upper half fell to the ground. He laid in a pool of blood and you felt nauseous.

It was so quick, that you couldnt process it properly. Yuji stood up in shock, and Yuta reached out to unsheath his katana but Maki stopped him. Everyone else were frozen in shock and Miwa walked up to you and hugged you silently.

You couldnt even cry, as it all felt absolutely unreal. A million thoughts ran through your head. It felt like a sick joke. To get him in your life, to almost losing him to Toji, then getting him back, then the whole shibuya incident. Did the forces above hate you so bad?

Why make you meet the so called love of your life just to take him away? For fucks sake, he was all you had. The only family you had. The students were like family as well, but nothing measured up to Satoru. He was your everything: your love, your reason. When you felt like the world was against you, he stayed by your side. When you reached a standstill, he helped you. When you couldnt trust at the initial stages, he kept giving you reasons to trust him and fall hard.

Every single memory you had with Satoru played in your mind like a movie. Swallowing a thick lump, you reached out to pat Miwa weakly.

When you came back to your senses, you realized that time only froze for you. Kashimo was already rushing towards Sukuna. Breathing in and out, you noticed Yuta walk up to you. "Sensei, we need a plan to retrieve Gojo sensei's body" he said. Well, he had a point. But your brain already had too much going on.

Ieiri stood next to you and said "Get it together y/n. I know its hard, but we've got priorities. If you manage to retrieve his body somehow, I'll try my best. I wont let the only people from my life slip away again" "I'll help as well sensei" Yuta chimed in.

Inhaling sharply, you nodded. You didnt bother about what could possbily happen to you. With only one goal in mind, you sneaked into the battlefield with Yuta. By then, Hakari was out of the allies den and by the looks of it, he was going to fight Uraume.

Sparing no glances towards Sukuna and Kashimo, you and Yuta retrieved Gojo's body and narrowly missed a huge iceberg that now fell in the place where your boyfriend laid. With wide eyes, you looked at Yuta, who signalled that both of you had to leave. The nauseous feeling came back as you felt the crimson liquid seep through your clothes. Regardless, you thanked yourself mentally for acting quickly and not wallowing in your sorrows. There wouldnt have been a chance to retrieve your lover's body then.

For whatever reason, you looked back and what you saw made you feel a little terrified. Sukuna now was in a much different form; his face looked different, he had another extra pair of arms and he had a mouth in his stomach. The king of curses looked absolutely menancing. He also yielded cursed objects in his hand.

You then entrusted Satoru's body to Shoko and Yuta, and went back to watching the battle. You trusted their abilities, and your presence might be a distraction to them. Besides, your help might be needed in the battle at any time.

Within a matter of seconds, right after you settled in your seat, Ryomen Sukuna had put an end to Kashimo Hajime. By the looks of it, Hajime's one time attack barely had any effect on the king of curses.

Higuruma Hiromi and Yuji Itadori rushed into the battlefield, not wanting to waste any time. Yuji was fueled by pure hatred, as Sukuna was everything but good to him. Not only that, he massacred thousands while in Yuji's body and also took over his best friend's body now. Hiromi was strong as well. He'll have to read out Sukuna's crimes and let the judge do the work. But truth be told, that wont be an easy task.

The battle was intense again, with Yuji landing black flashes and Hiromi using his own techniques. Retrieving Megumi was important, but the question of how hasnt been answered yet. Sukuna doesnt show any signs of fatigue. Heck, he only looks stronger now.

There were no signs of stopping, and for hours allies swapped in and out to face the monster there. You went out to duel against Sukuna a few times as well, and now your body was decorated with injuries. He was extremely strong, even with lesser cursed energy. You felt that he was weakening physically, but to bring him down? Its going to take an indescribable amount of time.

You were capable of using RCT, so you managed to heal yourself and helped heal the injured allies as well. Everyone seemed exhausted, and the only thing that kept them going was the determination. After coming this far, it would be disgraceful to go back now. It wasnt even a choice to begin with. To give up would mean Sukuna happily finishes everyone off, causes terror and rules the world with Kenjaku.

More than that, to you, this was about your friend's and adoptive son's body getting manipulated like this.

A few more hours passed, and with combined efforts from your side, the curse that terrorised the sorcerer and curse user community fell. You were immensely proud of how every single person on your side fought for the same cause with so much determination and coordination. You also had a sense of gratitude towards each and every one of them.

You were worried about the man who was getting healed by Yuta and Shoko, but you were also glad that a main root of problems was a part of history now. The door opened and the duo walked out, visibly tired. They took one look at all of you and it didnt take long to realise that the enemy had been defeated.

Ijichi walked in with a figure in his arms. Everyone turned and now was facing him and realised it was none other than Megumi. The state he was in made you want to cry. Atleast the past didnt repeat itself fully like it did with Geto. The boy you saw growing up now lay helplessly, body full of injuries. You thought of what he wouldve went through and it pained you heavily.

When Ijichi announced that the boy was alive, you turned towards Shoko, unintentionally holding your breath.

She smiled a little and said that hes alive and well. And then, you crashed onto the chair, completely done in, letting exhaustion take over you. You were still bleeding from a few spots as you prioritized healing the others and now your cursed energy levels had been depleted.

----

When you woke up, the first person to greet you in the hospital bed was Kugisaki. Just her existence there made you tear up, as her return after the incidents of Shibuya was a question mark. Reality sunk in and you let the tears flow freely. The goals were achieved. Your first years were safe and sound. Sukuna was gone. Your second years and third years were safe as well. Satoru was okay as well.

Maybe the universe wasnt completely against you. It just presented you with multiple hurdles. You mentally patted yourself on the back for holding on. It does pay off in the end.

Nobara enveloped you in a hug, and cried with you.

"How are you?" you asked her. "Im okay, Im just glad youre awake."

Right at that time, Shoko walked in, pleased that you were finally awake. "You were out cold for two weeks dummy" she said, letting out a puff of smoke.

"Atleast I can breathe easy now" You got up and hugged her. She was caught off guard at first, but then she hugged back and relaxed. She wasnt particularly a big talker, nonetheless you understood what she wanted to convey.

"What about Kenjaku?" you enquired. "Oh that. Yuta finished him off. We have the body safely with us" Nodding, you walked up to the door. "Ill go meet Yuji and Megumi"

Maki, Panda and Toge were on their way when they noticed you walking towards Yuji's room. They called out to you and after chatting for a while, you learnt the details of Yuta and Kenjaku's fight.

Waving goodbye, you continued and knocked on the Yuji's door. You felt the wind getting knocked out of you. Oh its just Yuji himself. "Im glad youre okay, sensei" he spoke enthusiastically. On the corner of your eye, you saw Choso sitting on the chair. Smiling at him, you asked Yuji to put you down and pat your clothes down.

You spoke to him, and figured he was doing well emotionally, physically and mentally. That's good, you thought to yourself.

Then, you went on to meet Megumi. You were definitely worried about him. You smiled to yourself after seeing him sleep peacefully. Apparently he had already awoken a couple of days back, and even visited you thrice.

Not wanting to disturb him, you finally went to Gojo's room. The same feeling of nervousness hit you like it did when you met him for the first time after he was unsealed. You opened the door slowly, and it seemed that your boyfriend was already aware of your presence outside the door.

He smiled at you again, and opened his arms. He looked different for sure. You ran straight into his arms and he lifted you up in the air, hugging you tightly. This was really him. Your Gojo. He was alive and well. Cue the waterworks, you held each other and cried together. This was a very vulnerable moment for both of you. Satoru crying was not something you expected, but after everything, it would only be odd if he didnt cry.

Letting out everything you held in for this long was a nice feeling. Besides, you could breathe now. The love of your life was here, safe in your arms, by your side. There wasnt even an indicator of the events that happened in the past. And then you realized something.

Breaking away from the hug, you reached out to lift his shirt with hesitant hands. There it was. A huge scar decorated his body in the very spot he was cut in.

"Missed me buttercup?" he asked. Ofcourse he was happy to be back too. Tracing his scar softly, you realised he was not a figment of your imagination. "Why wouldnt I be" you cried out and pulled him in for another hug. "I kept my promise, didnt I?" he sniffled. You choked out a thank you. He then kissed you passionately and you were more than happy to return the gesture. "Deja Vu" you whispered out. "I'll always come back to you, no matter what. You should promise me that too yeah?" He whispered out too. Looking straight into his eyes, you said "I promise, no matter what."

"Do you wanna have some kikufuku?" he asked and you could only laugh. Regardless of what happens, your Satoru will always be the same loving, dorky guy you knew from day 1.

---

You felt someone pepper your face with kisses. Slowly opening your eyes, you saw Satoru, and he gave you one last kiss with an audible mwah sound. It was really happening, you thought to yourself. After cuddling for a while, you got up, just to be pulled back into Gojo's chest.

"Cmon baby its late" you said while looking at the clock. it was 12:30 pm. Looks like 2 weeks of sleep was nothing compared to a night of sound sleep with your other half. "Just a little more time pleaseee" Satoru whined out. Cant really say no to that now.

After a while, you both headed out to have breakfast and there you met all the other students. You didnt really want to press him on and ask about how he felt yesterday and ruin the moment. He's always been that confident individual, so you were worried about his mental state, after going through a defeat like that. Satoru isnt the one to talk about his feelings either, so you'll have to pop the question yourself.

After socializing with the students, Satoru pulled you away. But you weren't exactly done speaking to Choso.

"Love, what was that for?" you enquired, clearly not happy about being interrupted. "WOW I've been deprived of my rights to talk to the love of my life. What an unjust world we live in" he spoke out dramatically.

Laughing silently, you asked "where are we going?" "I dont know" he said playfully. Wrapping your arm around his, you went closer and leaned your head on his shoulder. He reached out to stroke your hair.

"Yknow, I met Nanami, Suguru, Yu and Riko" he started. You hummed. "I spoke to them at the airport for a while. Nanami told me to pick between south and north. But now Im glad I chose north" You definitely did not understand a thing, but didnt ask much. "How do you feel?" you asked. "Hmmmm lets see." he dragged out. "Im not very happy about getting defeated by that curse, but I think I'm more humble now" The last sentence made you laugh and he stared in disbelief. "Are you laughing at my agony now" he gasped out. "I'm not. But baby, you and humble dont go in the same sentence" you teased him now. "Oh come on. Im not very pleased to admit I'm not the strongest" he voiced out. "You'll always be the strongest in my eyes Satoru" you admitted. "will I now?" he wiggled his eyebrows and poked your arm.

Laughing at how adorable he is, you continued to take a stroll with him. "He was crazy strong yknow? Im not sure if i could have beaten him even if he didnt have megumi's ten shadows. I felt like he didnt go all out... In a way, I'm happy that someone as strong as him beat me" he commented. "Yeah, he was strong. We had a hellish time against him" you mentioned.

He may have lost against a curse that strong, but none of that matters to you. Satoru Gojo was here, by your side and that is more than enough.

---

A few days later, all the students and the remaining teachers paid their respects to all the souls that fell. Yuji placed flowers near Nanami's grave. Then, everyone placed a flower on principal Yaga's grave. Megumi stood near the grave designated for Toji. You walked up to him. "you okay?" "well i dont really care" he replied. Maybe Toji did care for his son, but never really showed it openly, so this is what he gets. Miwa silently mourned the death of Kokichi Muta. From the corner of your eye, you spotted Gojo and Shoko near a grave stone. You went near them, and figured it was for Geto. Wrapping your arms around both of them from the middle, you silently leaned your head on Satoru's. You were glad that you were able to properly mourn your friend and the others.

While walking back to your rooms, you smiled to yourself. Yuji and Yuta's sentences were now non existent, thanks to the work of someone. The annoying higher ups were exterminated.

Even if you lost loved ones, made multiple sacrifices, almost lost many people dear to you, it all worked out at the end.

You'd do your best to make sure that this peace never gets disrupted. At any cost. Everyone who you valued, were here, by your side.

----

A/N 2: it took me hours to write this and lmao the whole fight after kashimo dying was all just what i imagined. So yeah.

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herlondonboy · 5 months

Text

The Songbird and the Rebel

pairings: lucy gray baird x gn!reader

summary: you love lucy. you would do anything for her. including throw yourself in with the wolves in order to protect her.

warnings: canon typical violence, minor SPOILERS FOR TBOSAS!!!! reader is gender neutral BUT takes the spot for male tribute, first person

word count: 2.3k

a/n: my first fanfic in a while (leilani if you see this leave) part 2?

Lucy Gray Baird was a name known to most in District 12.

If you don’t know her from when her and her covey arrived in District 12 with an array of songs, then you definitely know her from her singing in the bar or by the hanging tree.

In the quiet corners of my heart, there exists a profound narrative woven with the threads of affection and admiration for Lucy Gray Baird. To gaze upon her is to witness a kaleidoscope of beauty, each facet revealing a unique charm that, when combined, creates an enchanting tapestry of allure. Her presence is a gentle breeze, weaving through the tapestry of my days, leaving me breathless with the ethereal magic she brings.

Lucy Gray's eyes are like pools of liquid moonlight, reflecting a depth that seems to hold the secrets of the universe. When she casts her gaze upon me, it's as if time itself pauses, and in those moments, I find solace in the silent language exchanged between our souls. Her laughter, a melody that dances in the air, resonates with the sweetness of a thousand songbirds. Each note is a reminder that joy is not just an emotion, but a symphony composed by the mere existence of Lucy Gray.

Yet, it is in the cadence of her voice that the true enchantment unfolds. Her words are like a lyrical river, flowing with grace and carrying the weight of untold stories. The timbre, a harmonious blend of warmth and tenderness, wraps around my heart like a comforting embrace. Listening to Lucy Gray speak is akin to traversing a forest of ancient trees, each word a delicate leaf that rustles in the gentle breeze, revealing the wisdom etched into the very fabric of her being.

In the quietude of twilight, as the world settles into a hushed symphony, Lucy Gray's voice becomes a lullaby, a soothing melody that cradles my thoughts and lingers in the corridors of my dreams. It is a voice that navigates the complexities of emotion, painting vivid landscapes of understanding and empathy. With every syllable, she unveils a tapestry of connection, forging a bond that transcends the mundane and elevates our shared existence to a realm where love is not just a sentiment but a living, breathing entity.

To be in love with Lucy Gray Baird is to be immersed in a story where every chapter unfolds with the grace of a sonnet, and her enchanting voice serves as the narrator, guiding me through the intricacies of emotion with eloquence and poise. In her presence, time becomes an ephemeral concept, and the symphony of our shared moments resonates in the chambers of my heart, an everlasting ode to the captivating magic that is Lucy Gray.

As the calendar inches closer to that dreaded date, the annual arrival of the reaping, a shiver courses through my veins, and the spectre of fear looms large in the recesses of my thoughts. It's a perennial nightmare, a cyclical horror that etches its mark on my soul with each passing year. The looming prospect of the reaping casts a long, foreboding shadow over the days leading up to it, like an impending storm gathering its strength.

In the district, where life is a delicate dance on the precipice of survival, the reaping is the grand conductor orchestrating the symphony of anxiety that grips every heart. The Capitol's merciless tradition, designed to remind us of our vulnerability, is an annual ritual that plunges us into a maelstrom of uncertainty. As the day draws near, the atmosphere becomes thick with a palpable tension, a collective holding of breaths that echo the unspoken dread etched across the faces of my fellow citizens.

The fear is not merely a response to the capricious nature of the reaping; it is an acknowledgment of the ruthless lottery that defines our existence. Every year, the odds are a cruel reminder of the fragility of life, and as the names are drawn, the spectre of mortality hangs heavy in the air. It's a twisted game where the stakes are nothing less than life itself, and the chances of escape grow slimmer with each passing year.

Yet, in the recesses of my consciousness, a tiny flame of hope persists. Three more years, I tell myself, just three more before the shackles of this annual torment are lifted. The countdown becomes a mantra, a whispered reassurance that carries me through the darkest hours leading up to the reaping. I imagine a future where the weight of this fear is but a distant memory, where the spectre of the Capitol's malevolence no longer casts its sinister gaze upon my destiny.

Survival becomes an art, a delicate dance between evading the Capitol's scrutiny and navigating the treacherous currents of our district's harsh realities. With each passing reaping, the lessons learned, the alliances forged, and the scars accumulated become badges of a silent resistance against the Capitol's oppressive grip. As the clock ticks away, the urgency to outlast this infernal cycle intensifies, and I find solace in the belief that resilience will be my shield until the dawn of that promised freedom.

The reaping remains an annual crucible, but with each passing year, the embers of hope burn a little brighter. Three more years—a finite horizon that promises liberation from the perennial terror that shadows my days. Until then, I navigate the minefield of survival, driven by the unyielding determination to defy the odds and emerge from the crucible of the reaping with the scars of endurance etched upon my soul.

Lost in the tapestry of my daydreams, where the edges of reality blur into the realms of imagination, I found myself wading through the ethereal landscapes of distant thoughts. The cadence of a country twang, like a gentle breeze, pulled me back from the reverie, and there she was – Lucy Gray Baird, a vision of warmth and southern charm.

"What's wrong, darling?" Lucy Gray's voice, dripping with honeyed tones, sliced through the cocoon of my musings. Startled, I looked up to find her gaze fixed on me, a playful twinkle in her eyes that made my heart flutter.

Shaking my head to dispel the lingering fragments of my daydreams, I stammered out a feeble response, "Oh, nothing, just lost in thought."

Lucy Gray's expression shifted to a quizzical 'really?' as she cocked her head to the side. It was as if she could read the unsaid, decipher the hidden nuances beneath the surface of my demeanour. Unable to support the charade, I sighed and admitted, "Just thinking about tomorrow."

Her brow furrowed with concern, and Lucy Gray, with a sincerity that belied the playful banter, insisted, "We're not getting picked, darling. Trust me."

The assurance, while comforting, collided with the grim reality that haunted the eve of every reaping. "Lucy Gray, you can't be sure. The odds are never in our favour," I argued, my voice laced with the weight of impending dread.

An animated debate unfolded, our words clashing like opposing currents in a tempestuous sea. Lucy Gray, with an unwavering confidence, insisted that fate would spare us, while I, burdened by the grim statistics of our district, could not share her optimism. The tension escalated, transforming a mere disagreement into a storm of conflicting emotions.

With a heavy sigh, I declared, "I can't afford false hope, Lucy Gray. I need to face the reality of our situation."

Lucy Gray's eyes darkened with disappointment, and her lips formed a thin line. "You don't have to face it alone, darling," she murmured, her voice now devoid of its earlier playfulness.

In the aftermath of our heated exchange, the room echoed with the haunting silence of unresolved tension. Unable to bear the weight of the unspoken, I stormed out, leaving behind a tumultuous atmosphere that lingered in the air like a palpable storm. The door swung shut behind me, closing the chapter on a disagreement that lingered in the corridors of my conscience.

As I walked away, the shadows of doubt and fear clung to me like a relentless spectre. Tomorrow's reaping loomed on the horizon, and amid our clash, the uncertain fate that awaited us cast a shadow on the camaraderie between Lucy Gray and me.

The morning of the reaping dawned with an eerie stillness, the air thick with tension as I stood flanked by my brothers, a tight knot of apprehension settling in the pit of my stomach. The proximity to them, a meagre comfort in the face of the impending ordeal, offered a silent solidarity that spoke of shared fears and unspoken bonds.

As the announcer's voice echoed through the square, a collective hush fell over the assembled crowd. My gaze scanned the sea of faces, searching for Lucy Gray amid the sea of anxious expressions. But she was nowhere to be found, and a gnawing unease crept into my thoughts.

The dread reached its zenith when the familiar twang of the announcer's voice pierced the air, uttering those fateful words that sent shockwaves through my world. "Lucy Gray Baird."

Time seemed to grind to a halt as her name reverberated through the square. A sharp intake of breath echoed through the crowd, and my brothers and I exchanged glances, our eyes mirroring the disbelief that clung to our collective consciousness. Lucy Gray, the beacon of defiance and warmth, had been ensnared by the merciless claws of the reaping.

A murmur rippled through the crowd as Lucy Gray emerged, her steps deliberate yet exuding an air of unrestrained rebellion. As she approached the podium, the atmosphere crackled with a palpable tension. Instead of submitting to the Capitol's ritual humiliation, Lucy Gray took matters into her own hands.

In a daring act of defiance, she slipped a snake into the folds of the mayor's daughter's dress, a calculated rebellion that unfolded like a subversive ballet. Gasps of astonishment and screams of fear spread through the crowd as Lucy Gray stood there, an embodiment of resistance against the Capitol's oppression.

Her gaze, a beacon of unyielding determination, sought me out in the crowd. Our eyes locked in a silent exchange, a communion of understanding that transcended the barriers of the Capitol's surveillance. In that fleeting moment, I saw not just defiance but a plea for solidarity, a shared understanding of the injustice that had befallen her.

The Covey, recognizing their songbird in distress, began to sing. Their harmonies, a haunting melody of sorrow and defiance, wove through the square, amplifying the rebellious spirit that Lucy Gray embodied. It was a serenade for a fallen comrade, a hymn of resistance that reverberated through the hearts of those who dared to challenge the Capitol's iron grip.

As Lucy Gray stood there, surrounded by the harmonies of the Covey, I felt an indescribable mixture of emotions. Anguish, for the injustice that had befallen her; admiration, for her unyielding spirit; and a lingering sense of guilt for the moments of doubt that had clouded our camaraderie. The reaping square transformed into a stage for a silent revolution, and Lucy Gray, with her audacious act, had become the unwitting protagonist in a tale of defiance and sacrifice.

Driven by a surge of emotions that transcended reason, I pushed forward through the tightly packed crowd, determination burning in my veins. The air crackled with tension as I reached the front, and my heart pounded in my chest like a war drum. Lucy Gray's name lingered in the air, a haunting echo that reverberated through the square.

As I stumbled towards the platform, the weight of the moment settled on my shoulders. My voice trembled, but a resolute conviction carried me forward. "I volunteer!"

Lucy Gray, standing defiantly on the podium, shot me a perplexed frown. A silent exchange passed between us, a question lingering in her eyes. Why would I jeopardize my own safety for her? But there was no time for explanations as the Capitol's relentless proceedings demanded swift adherence.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Lucy Gray gestured towards me, her eyes mirroring a silent plea for me to reconsider. But I couldn't back down now. I couldn't let Lucy Gray face the Capitol's brutality alone.

"I volunteer to take the place of Jessup Diggs!" The words hung in the air, a courageous declaration that seemed to confound the very fabric of the reaping ceremony. Murmurs of uncertainty rippled through the crowd, unsure if such a deviation from the Capitol's script was permissible.

The Capitol's enforcers hesitated, caught off guard by the unprecedented turn of events. The air was thick with uncertainty, the collective gasp of the onlookers amplifying the tension that permeated the square. Jessup Diggs looked bewildered, unsure whether to be grateful or worried for the unexpected twist of fate.

Before the Capitol's enforcers could make sense of the situation, Jessup was roughly thrown down from the stage. A jolt of realization surged through the crowd, the unspoken understanding that the Capitol's machinations brooked no dissent. I was seized by unseen hands, dragged up to the platform, and away from the tumultuous sea of faces.

As I was pulled away, my eyes sought out Lucy Gray, who now stood alone, a solitary figure in the midst of the chaotic spectacle. Her gaze met mine, a silent acknowledgment passing between us. In that moment, I saw gratitude mixed with an unspoken sadness, a recognition of the sacrifice made in the name of defiance.

The cheers and protests of the crowd faded into the background as I was led away from the square, the consequences of my impulsive decision looming ahead. In the face of the Capitol's cruelty, I had dared to challenge the script, to rewrite the narrative of the reaping. The road ahead was uncertain, but as I cast a last glance at Lucy Gray Baird, standing alone on the podium, I knew that the seeds of rebellion had been sown, and the repercussions of my choice would resonate far beyond the confines of the reaping square.

#elijah writes #lucy gray baird #lucy gray x coriolanus #lucy gray x reader #lucy gray #lucy gray baird x reader #gn #gn reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #tbosas x reader #x you #tbosas x you #the ballard of songbirds and snakes x reader

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sprout-fics · 1 year

Text

Little Mouse

(König x F! Reader)

Masterlist here!

Word count: 4.8k Rating: Teen and Up Tags: Female Reader, Sniper Reader, Abductions, Interrogations, Hostage situation, Injuries, Kidnapping, Rescues, 141 Reader Warnings: Abduction, Semi-unwanted touching A/N: This is my first official attempt at a König piece, hopefully it isn't terrible

Summary:

Hands. One on your wrist, the other on your shoulder. You sigh at first, relieved and thankful, expecting Gaz's voice to filter through the buzz between your ears, concerned and urgent. Yet there's only silence, a solitude that leaves you empty and reaching for the familiar, for your comrade to right you, help you limp to safety.

It's not him.

The hands are too large, too broad, and when they touch you it isn't with a firm, insistent touch you expect from the sergeant. No, they're rough, shoving, pulling, flipping you over even as that crack inside you threatens to fracture further, pain blossoming bright and scarlet behind your eyelids. You can hardly move, but even then you try to struggle, writhing and kicking weakly at whoever it is who's seized you, who's lifting you up into their arms. You rise, and then rise higher, dully realizing that whoever this is, they're huge.

Something covers your face. Your body jostles as the person who has your limp form tossed over their shoulder moves, marching away, into the night.

The world is spinning, shaking. You're caught in a rogue wave, tumbling and twisting under the ocean's surface as the inertia of it carries you, lifts you. Air seeps from your lungs, choked with dust and debris as you feel it float upwards. You try to follow it, try to discern which way is up, struggling towards the surface of your own consciousness only to sink deeper, deeper into the abyss.

Gaz is laying somewhere nearby. He had been right beside you when the blast went off. You had heard a voice just before the clatter of metal had caught both of your attention. Thick, accented, thunderous. It had startled you, distracted you enough that it took a moment too long for you to react.

You had heard Gaz scream, voice rising to a fever pitch before he lunged for you, reaching, hands outstretched-

You don't ever remember hearing the sound. A flash of brightness more radiant than the sun itself, burning through your night vision goggles and searing your vision. The blast had sent you reeling backwards, body thrown into the cracked concrete wall behind you just as reality faded to indiscernible shapes and sounds.

When you breathe, you taste blood on your lips, dust from the grenade coating your tongue. Something inside you feels cracked, broken. When you suck in air there's a bright, burning flash of pain that digs inside your veins, blunted by the shock of your impact and the sheer, ringing noise of the world around you.

"Gaz..." You try, reaching out an arm as you lay on your side, trying to find your comrade in the darkness. He doesn't respond, and that's enough to send alarm spiking through you, eyes blinking open in a vain attempt to locate the sergeant within the pitch black of the ruined house. He had been closer to the grenade, you think, trying to push you out of the realm of the blast while you had been frozen, foolishly stupefied by the voice-

The voice-

You still, and a new dread courses through you now at the realization that someone had tossed the grenade, that your sniper nest has been compromised, that you two aren't alone.

"Gaz-!" You try again, managing to scoot yourself forward half a foot to where you think he might be. Fires flicker around you both, small flames from the larger burn outside that casts dancing shadows on the inside of the room. They must have missed, you think. The grenade had clattered against the outside wall, the worst of the blast absorbed by the concrete and yet still enough to send debris raining down on you both, knock you both to the floor and render you prone.

It's not him.

"K-Kyle-!" You call, trying to summon his aid, wherever he lays in the settling dust. "Kyle, h-help-"

Something covers your face. Your body jostles as the person who has your limp form tossed over their shoulder moves, marching away, into the night.

---

The world comes back to you in dull, ashen washes of color, shades of smoke and bones that throb on the inside of your skull with a distant, pulsing pain. When you suck in air, you feel the carve of whatever injury nestles below your chest spike, laced with a blooming bruise that extends outwards along your ribs. It summons a hiss from you, a sharp exhale as you force yourself to breathe through the pain.

It's remarkably silent, you notice, as you begin to take in the details of the world around you. The pop of gunfire, the crackle of smoldering embers has long since been extinguished, and in its place is the simple, quiet drip of a damp interior. The world around you remains shaded, caught in inky darkness as a single, flickering lantern casts a pale light into the cell you've been placed in.

Your eyes flick over to the bars then, taking in the puddled hallway. Immediately you rise, unable to stop a cry at whatever is broken inside you flaring to life once more. It takes a moment, but you swing your legs over the cot shoved hastily into the corner, standing and limping to the doorway. Yet when you peer into the dimness of the hallway there's nothing there.

Empty.

You force a sigh, bitter and disappointed, tinged with guilt as you lean against the stone wall to your side. At your waist your hands clink in their cuffs, the metal biting at your wrists.

Captured then. Ambushed and taken by surprise and then taken, whisked away into the dead of night while Gaz remained alone, injured, worse. The bite of it digs inside you, deeper than any wound, fear for yourself and worry for your comrade clogging your throat. You force it down, breathe despite the pain, despite the mounting panic inside you, trying to regain your sense of logic.

Captured, but by who?

The cell you and Gaz had been tracking had no idea you were there, you were sure of it. They hadn't noticed either of you set up on the hill, scopes at the ready and voices low into your comms. Yet you can still remember the touch of the person who took you- as you were slung over a hulking frame, hands engulfing your wrists, the width of your arms.

A monster.

As if summoned from the shadows by the mere thought, you hear footsteps down the hallway. Heavy, rumbling, as if they shake at the earth themselves.

It takes mere moments for you to press yourself away from the bars, backing yourself up against the rear wall of the cell just as a hulking figure casts a shadow over your form.

You freeze.

A towering stature, clad in shades of black and green. You follow him from his boots upwards, taking note of his thighs, the side of trunks and his solid, immovable weight. His hands hang loose at his sides, forearms covered in plated armor and fingers twitching. Yet it's only once your eyes rise to his face that you flinch, shiver at what you find there.

His eyes. Hidden underneath a hood, and where there's holes there's track marks, as if tear trails have bleached the fabric. You can't contain a shudder, not when this man before you looks for all the world like an executioner, his eyes unblinking, seeing the end of your fate. They stare at you, gaze downward at your tensed form, squinting in the darkness. Observing. Watching.

"Awake?" This man, this giant asks, and his voice is warbled with an accent that you think sounds Germanic. Yet the words are in English, and for a moment you see his eyes flicker down to the flag stitched across your sleeve.

You swallow, and in your stomach you know what comes next. You were taken alive for a reason, after all. Whatever this man wants from you requires your immediate survival, although it's uncertain for how long.

"Where are we?" You ask instead, jaw grit and eyes flashing defiance.

He tilts his head at you then, and the gesture seems strange somehow, as if he's studying you, trying to see through your courage. Yet he doesn't reply to your question, and instead reaches for his belt, withdrawing a set of keys that he uses to unlock the door.

"S-stay back!" You try as he enters the cell, has to slightly duck under the doorway due to his height. The room seems so much smaller with him in it, as he occupies the entire door frame, the scant space between the foot of the cot and your only chance at escape.

"Easy, fräulein." He tells you, raising his hands in a gesture that should be placating but only inspires a sharp surge of fear in you. "I'm not going to hurt you."

You snort derisively, ignoring the tremble in your hands as you press yourself further into the wall.

"I have a hard time believing that." You hiss at him, and again he tilts his head at you, a cat curious about the mouse it's cornered.

"It's true." He tries again, and the soft tenor of his voice is almost jarring, seemingly polite despite his terrifying appearance. "You tell me what I need to know, I let you leave, da?"

You pause, regard him, brow furrowed and lips pursed, see the way he has his hands lifted in assurance, not stepping closer. It's a trick, you're certain of it, and yet you have no choice but to play along, feign surrender and bide your time till you make your escape. So, you nod, a single, hesitant jerk of your head that has him dropping his hands, shifting so he leans against the wall with his arms crossed.

"Your name?" He asks, and the disconcerting nonchalance of his tone again has you casting him a look of suspicion, trying to understand this sudden shift in him.

"What's yours?" You return instead, watching his fingers scratch along the top of his arms.

"...König." He tells you after a pause.

"Rookie." You return. The fingers stop.

"That's not your real name." He states, tone dipping lower, a whisper of what should be a warning.

"Neither is yours."

"Hmm."

He shifts, fidgeting. You trace the motion, still as you are, hands flexing and eyes darting to the keys on his belt.

"The soldiers you are with." He speaks, drawing your attention to him once more. "Who are they?"

You blink then, show your hand and react to his question, perplexed.

"You should know." You reply slowly, sensing a trap. "You were the one that attacked us, weren't you?"

The man, König, is silent. There's an interest in his gaze you can't shake, a keenness that feels too sharp, narrowed in on you. Just you.

So, you venture a little farther, wetting your lips before speaking. "My friend. The one with me, is he alive?"

He blinks then, eyes briefly fluttering at you. The motion feels oddly human for this beast of a man, and again you feel that shiver run through you like a cold winter wind.

"...He was alive when we left."

Relief, warm and grateful, makes your shoulders sink perceptibly, the breath you had been holding wheezing free from your lungs. Gaz is alive. Knowing him, he probably made it to safety before the cell you were watching discovered him, vanishing into the woods and leaving them unaware.

"Why..." You suddenly speak, words caught dangerously in your throat. "Why didn't you kill him?"

König stills, his fidgeting halting at your question. You see his eyes narrow at you from under the hood, seeking your face in the darkness.

"He wasn't my target." He replies at last, and there's a tone to his words you can’t decipher, a hidden meaning shrouded behind the darkness of his eyes. "You were."

"Me?" You ask abruptly, eyebrows raising in surprise. "Why?"

"I ask the questions." König states, and he stands from the wall, looming to his full height and taking a step closer to you, annoyed by your persistence.

You scoff, fear simmering higher in your stomach, but you refuse to cede ground, staring up at him defiantly.

"Yeah, and you're doing a great job at it." You mock sardonically.

Another step.

"You aren't making it easy, fräulein." He growls, and this time you do feel that fear threaten to burst. He's closer now, too close, and you have to look up in order to meet his gaze as his figure blots light from the only lantern that allows you to see in the darkness.

"Who are the other soldiers you are with?" König demands again, voice dipping low as a rumble in his chest. "What are their names?"

You should be staying quiet, should be giving him nothing. Yet his earlier concessions have emboldened you, and now you feel a spike of defiance flash through you at his insistent questions.

"You don't even know who you attacked, do you?" You ask, voice trembling between fear and a hysterical giddiness at his frustration. "That's why I'm here, why you took me, isn't it? Because you don't even know who you're fighting!"

König snarls then, surging forward and planting a single massive hand on the stone wall next to your head. The other shoots forward, reaching up to seize the lower half of your face in a near bruising grip. The height of it drags you an inch up the wall, and the rough scrape of the stone against your bruised back is enough to make you groan in pain.

König pauses.

Your eyes are scrunched as you bite back a whimper that threatens to escape. It hurts. There's a rhythmic, stabbing sensation in your ribs and a bruised, bludgeoned pain across your shoulders. When you try and raise your shackled hands to push off the man before you they flail at him, arms shaking through the pain that seems to radiate like fractal lighting along your torso.

His grip lightens.

"You are hurt." He states blankly, and his tone is confused, almost disbelieving as a shudder ripples through you.

You grunt as you twist, and his hand loosens across your face, drifting downward to settle on your shoulder instead.

"Yeah, that tends to happen when you use grenades instead of words as your introduction." You hiss at him, but the true bite of your words is blunted by the stress of your injuries.

"Let me see."

"What? No-!" You try, twisting away from him. Yet the motion only inflames your likely fractured rib, and you grimace, slump down the wall. Before you can slide away König's grip settles on your arm, and those same hands that had held you so roughly soften, encircling your bicep as he keeps you steady.

You glance at him, eyes turning upwards to his hooded gaze, looming over your smaller figure. The menace, the cold seems softer there, brow furrowed and stare glinting down at you. It's...disconcerting, whatever this is, the way he's suddenly fixated on you not as his prey, but his captive, his responsibility.

It flickers, then it's gone.

"You won't be able to answer my questions if you're bleeding out." He tells you, voice rough, and it sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than he's trying to persuade you.

"Good." You snap at him instead, painful irritation prickling under your skin. "Because I'm not telling you anything."

There's a spark then, something that almost seems like amusement under his hood. It tugs at the corners of his eyes, squinting, and for a moment you feel again like a mouse, cornered by a cat who hovers a claw dangerously close to your smaller form.

"We shall see." Is all he tells you, and you shudder at the promise there.

Yet then he releases you, hands vanishing as he's leaning back, giving you space. It startles you for a moment, this sudden motion of his that leaves you reeling in his absence. König only studies for, head tilting at the confusion that passes over your face before nodding to the cot.

"Sit." He tells you, and it's not a request.

Against your better judgment you follow the command, shuffling so as to keep distance between him and you, eyes never leaving his form. He watches as you plop down, observes the grimace at the movement that sends a stabbing ache digging at your ribs.

You start when he takes a step towards you, voice suddenly cracking in your throat as you manage: "I-I'm not bleeding."

"On the outside." He returns. Another step.

"Please." You suddenly gasp, as you scoot back along the bed, as he looms over you in the darkness. Your previous defiance feels cracked in your throat, chalky and drowned in fear at the man who towers above your form. "Don't- don't hurt me."

He pauses then, hands halfway stretched towards you but freezing where they are. His eyes are wide under his hood, and even in the dim lighting you can see the whites of them as he stops, digests your frantic plea.

"I'm not...going to hurt you, Maus." He speaks, and there's a conflict there you don't understand, his voice wavering on the title he's given you, fitting given your circumstances. "I need to make sure you aren't bleeding on the inside."

You don't respond, not at first, heart thumping wildly in your chest at his enormous shadow cast over you. Yet you can't help the lingering parlor of fear at his words, doubt at your own body. You haven't checked, haven't been able to discern the extent of your own injuries, and you know it's entirely likely he's right, that maybe something inside you was bruised or ruptured in the collision, that it may only be a matter of time before the symptoms present themselves.

Even so, you tremble when his hands land on you, a single wide palm splaying across your front.

"Wo." He asks, even as you flinch when he drums his fingers over the vest shielding you from his bare touch. "Where?"

"...Ribs." You manage at last, torn between keeping your eyes scrunched shut and refusing to take your gaze off him. Your face feels warm. He's too close like this, leaning over you, one knee wedged between your legs, the heat of him radiating into your space. "F-fractured, I think."

He hums, and the sound itself feels like the churning of glaciers, ancient and grinding low inside him. You think his hands will dig under your shirt, rip off your vest, trail his fingers up your ribs. It's a surprise when he simply ghosts over the underside of your tac vest, gently lifting it to probe where you press your hand to quell the pain. You hiss at the contact, resisting the urge to turn away, to vainly push him aside.

"You're so...small." He marvels as he gingerly presses down along your side, inspecting for any soreness that might indicate internal bleeding. "Soft."

You ignore that, ignore the way your face warms at his voice, almost mystified by your smaller frame under his hand. You half expect his touch to roam, for him to lean closer, closer into you. Yet König is surprisingly clinical, his touch clumsy but sincere as he searches for injuries.

He's...warm. The heat of him seeping through his glove, lighting against your chilled skin under your clothes.

You shake away the thought before it fully forms, flinching when König finds a hidden bruise.

"Broken." He mutters at last and seems almost reluctant to pull away from you. "But no bleeding. You're lucky."

"I-I feel lucky." You manage, voice shaking and yet desperately trying to regain control. "Got ambushed, injured, and kidnapped. It's been a great day so far."

König huffs at you, amused and annoyed. Yet instead of drawing completely away from your figure he instead sinks, kneels to your level.

"A name, Maus." He tells you, voice lower, quiet. "A name, and then I'll get you some water, medicine for the pain."

The temptation is an ugly one, you'll admit that much. You're dehydrated, tired, in need of proper rest so you can conserve your energy, find a way out. It won't be easy to escape like this, injured and untreated as you are. Even if you do manage to slip past him, you have no doubt he'd be able to chase you down, broken and wilted as you are.

So, you give him a name. Yours.

He quiets, stares at you, eyes unblinking for what seems like eons, red rimmed and wide. You feel pinned under them, under his focused, piercing gaze, and he's close, too close, but the menace you originally felt is gone. There's something there instead you don't understand- a curiosity, an intent you cannot name.

He repeats it, voice curling over the sound as if rolling a candy under his tongue.

You suppress a shiver at that, at the way he fails to hide his blatant fascination with you.

"And your company?" He requests, and you almost fall for it, the casual, almost friendly way he asks you about your secrets.

You stay silent, lips pursed, brow drawn, refusing to speak.

The brightness in his eyes flashes, fades into something deeper, darker at your stubbornness.

"Your company, Maus." He insists, voice lowering. A hand flexes on his knee.

He won't hurt you. He said he wouldn't hurt you.

"The 141." You murmur, and something stabs inside you, guilty and hurt over your own betrayal.

"One four one." König echoes, accent turning over the numbers in a low rumble.

You nod, heart racing, breath quickening, unable to tear your gaze away from him even as you desperately want to, want to run, run away from here.

"Good." König purrs and withdraws at last. Breath tumbles freely from your chest, damp and warm fogging into the air. Without his massive body so close you feel the cold returning, seeping back into your limbs in all the places he didn't touch. For a moment you feel the inertia of that rogue wave pull at you once more, except this time when you surface it isn't to fire and destruction but to him, grounding and grave like the shadows around him.

He stands, observes you for a few extra moments, as you try not to wither under his stare. You wish you could understand what it is about you that perplexes him so, seems to grab his attention as his eyes narrow in on your face.

It almost feels like he wants to eat you alive.

"Stay put, Maus." He tells you, voice distant, distracted. He takes a single step towards the door-

and the entire building shakes.

Your eyes shoot up then, jolting to your feet as dust shifts downwards from the ceiling and the ground briefly shudders under you. König seems as surprised as you are, eyes wide under his hood as his gaze lifts upwards.

He curses, the sound grating and harsh in his native tongue, and when his eyes land back on you, you spring.

You duck under his outstretched hand, gritting through the pain of your injury so hard your teeth crack, dashing for the cell door and shoving at it. To your surprise it swings open, creaking and rusty against your insistent push.

You get exactly five steps down the hallway before he reaches you, a single hand catching you by your arm, hauling you up and against his front.

"What made you think we were done, Maus?" He asks, eyes narrowed down at you, and your heart sinks to your feet.

Yet when he tries to lift you, to throw you over his shoulder you scream, thrash against him. Ignoring the radiant flare of hurt that gouges through you as you twist, struggle, fueled by adrenaline even as the building shudders again around you both.

"No!" You scream, furious and afraid. "Let me GO!"

"Stop- urgh making this hard, fräulein." König shoots back as he tries to maintain a grip on you, and yet it's his words that make you shout louder, squirm harder in his hands.

There's a shout down the hallway, loud and urgent, tinged in an accent that you recognize.

"Ghost!" You scream, voice echoing down into the darkness where you can't yet see him. "LT, he-!"

A hand covers your face.

"That's another name you've given me." König murmurs, leaning down so his hood drapes across your shoulder, his voice curling against your ear. "I'll have to make do with that for now, kleine Maus."

You freeze, panic flooding your veins in an icy wash of fear. Yet it's stunted when you're abruptly released, and you spin to face him, this monster of a man who's touch has vanished from you.

He's turned away from you, facing down the hallway opposite where Ghost's voice echoes from. Your confusion dulls your senses, the mystery of why he's chosen to let you go, instead of kidnap, even kill you is impossible to understand.

"For now." König echoes, and you see his eyes under the lantern that swings wildly back and forth, dancing shadows across his hood. A spirit, a poltergeist.

You don't give it a second thought, spinning and racing towards safety, in the direction of your allies who have come to rescue you. König's footfalls fade into the darkness away from you, vanishing into the same dark night into which he carried you.

When you glance back, he's gone.

A voice calls out for you again, and you hone in on it, feet splashing sloppily through puddles as you limp in the direction of your team.

"I'm here!" You yell, voice cracking with the effort it takes to call to them. Your eyes adjust to the darkness, and after a few moments you see a figure waver free of the dimness.

"Rookie." Ghost breathes, lifting his goggles and reaching for you. You land on his arm to steady yourself, breathing hard and gasping for air. "Thank fuck."

You think he's alone until there's a crackle behind him, a radio warbling with a question from the captain.

"Affirm, Cap." Soap speaks into the handset strapped to his vest, and his eyes twinkle at you with relief. "Package has been located."

"Good." Price's voice replies gruffly over the comms. "Now get out of there before the whole building comes down on you."

"Rog."

"Gaz." You gasp, clinging to Ghost's arm, your relief and joy at the sight of your comrades short lived. "Kyle. Is he-?"

"The sergeant is fine." Ghost tells you, and you almost collapse into him with gratitude. "We need to move, now."

Yet when he turns you stumble, legs shaking and breath wheezing in your chest.

"Are you hurt?" Soap asks at once, slipping past Ghost to hover at your side, lifting an arm to sling it over his shoulder.

"Rib. Broken." You manage, and the Scotsman curses.

"The bastard that took you- did he do this?" He hisses, and there's fury there, dark and thunderous at the thought you may have been beaten, abused in the short time it took for them to reach you. "Gaz caught a glimpse of him, mammoth fellow."

"No." You manage, and you blink, turn to cast a glance over your shoulder into the darkness where König disappeared.

"He...didn't hurt me."

You don't hear whatever Soap says next, but you're moving, striding forward as the building lurches and shudders around you, as you struggle with them to safety.

Yet König's words linger, like a forbidden proverb, haunting the space inside of you with their dark, eerie promise.

For now.

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@dankest-farrik @zwiiicnziiix @moondirti @sritashimada @ladiilokii @yeyinde @sandinthemachine @verdandis-blog @guyfierriii @fan-of-encouragement @starlitnotes

#konig #konig x reader #cod konig #cod #mw2 #reader insert #my writing #my fic #oneshots #I literally started this bad boy at...11:30 this morning #idk how i do it #...oh man I just read this back #this is awful.#//head in hands #goddamit.

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