#to the point that you see their life as yours to end and yours alone | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thiniceofeternalyouth · 2 days

Text

MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER ELEVEN

A RUNAWAY AND A DEADMAN

⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader

series masterlist

Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology.

Words count: ~14k

⊲ previous

Under the concentrated puffing on the left, you tried to chop the chocolate bar as small as possible. Over the past couple of hours, you and Megumi have identified a not perfect, but decent recipe for chocolate muffins through trial and error. The boy slowly and methodically stirred the resulting dough with a whisk, trying to get rid of any lumps. When you reached for the bowl to taste the mixture for sugar, you received a resounding slap on the hand. You rolled your eyes and continued chopping the chocolate, trying to turn it to dust.

"Maybe we shouldn't be doing this," muttered Megumi absentmindedly, watching the batter drip off the whisk.

You had to strain your ears to hear what he was mumbling to himself. "What if ya add more flour?" you asked uncertainly, looking at the too-liquid consistency.

"I'm not talking about muffins," Megumi snapped. A chill immediately spread down his back, making the boy shiver – it was all the fault of the sharp sound of a knife sticking into a cutting board. With a sideways glance, Megumi caught sight of you leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over your chest and staring at him. "Sorry."

"If it's not the muffins, then what is it?" you asked, peering into the profile of the frowning face.

"I...," he began, hesitating. "I'm not sure if we should put up with her anymore."

"Has your love gone away, too?"

Megumi looked up sharply, and you could see the anxiety spreading across his young face. "Has it gone away for her?"

"How would I know?" you shrugged dryly. "Ya both sitting silently in your corners and ya seem to be hoping that it'll work itself out there somehow," Megumi took a whisk out of the bowl and pointed a finger at it meaningfully. You chuckled quietly. "Dany always loved chocolate muffins. Kudos for volunteering," you jokingly gave a bow of your head. "Still, that doesn't explain your hesitation."

"Well...," the boy started stirring the dough slowly again as if it was a ritual that brought tranquility. "It's just... Does it make sense?" asked Megumi weakly, and you only hummed thoughtfully. "In the end, it doesn't matter how many friends and loved ones we have. We die alone anyway," the fridge started humming twice as loud, except it was a distortion of Megumi's hearing. He could even hear his own heartbeat, annoying and fast, all from you being silent. He coughed and glimpsed at you, making sure you were still standing next to him. "You don't think so?"

"To be honest, I, uh... I hadn't thought about that at all," you chuckled nervously. "I'm still a little confused... Ya mean that when ya die ya'll have no one around ya, or vice versa, that despite being surrounded by loving people, ya'll go into oblivion alone?"

"Is there a difference?" he asked warily, almost fearfully.

"Yeah, ya right, I guess. There's not much difference," you sighed, scratching your forehead. "Look, Megumi, if ya wanna live your whole life in some small house in the middle of nowhere alone that's fine. If ya wanna live your life surrounded by a bunch of friends that's fine. If ya wanna live your life with only one person that's fine too, but it's all okay only as long as it's your personal choice.

"Fear rarely leaves a choice," Megumi doubted quietly, dumping your previously chopped chocolate off the board into a bowl.

"That's what I'm telling ya," you said, grabbing the cutting board and putting it in the sink. "Ya'll probably have a brick fall on your head tomorrow, and ya'll be lying in a dark alley all dead and alone," even though the sound of water running and a washcloth rubbing against wood was beginning to echo through the kitchen, Megumi could hear you clearly. "Scared to go outside now?" slyly glancing at the boy and seeing him shake his head in the negative, you smirked contentedly. "Ya can be afraid, but don't let something so ephemeral stop ya from living your life the way ya want to. It'll be fun if at the very end all ya have time to think about is how stupid ya were, not that ya're alone. If ya make it at all, of course," you scrubbed the board clean, but Megumi remained silent. Your patience was wearing thin. You needed either confirmation or persuasion. "So," you chuckled snidely. "What are we deciding? No, no, wait, don't say anything!" you turned to him and waved your hands, stopping him. "Ya better do. I'm offering you a choice - either ya keep making muffins or ya can go cry in your room. I'll understand either way."

Megumi gave you a glare that glinted angrily in the light of the kitchen garland. "You remind me of someone," he hissed, and continued kneading the chocolate into the dough with double zeal.

You watched his eagerness with satisfaction. "That's what I thought. Okay, philosophical musings are all well and good, but let's have a little talk about training and a plan of action," Megumi glowed when you said that. As much as he could, but you hadn't even noticed the change. "I think it's time for ya to learn regeneration."

"Wouldn't it be better to start with rel-"

He didn't get a chance to speak, for you pressed your palm sharply against his mouth. "Nah-uh," you said slowly, shaking your head and looking into his rounded eyes. You didn't immediately realize that you were clutching his shoulder tightly with your other hand. "Ugh," you exhaled, pulling your hands away from him. "For now, forget that word, do ya understand?" you made a grabbing motion with your palm as if taking the word from his vocabulary. Megumi, pressing his lips tightly together for a second, nodded. "Ya'll be relocate with me anyway, so that's not really important at first times, but the thing that will save your life more than once is running and regeneration. But mostly running, of course," you pointed out.

"I'm used to standing to the last man," Megumi objected sullenly.

"Ya'll wean," you chirped carelessly. "We're not known for heroics."

"And what the hell do I need this training for then?" blurted Megumi in the way he usually did - though his appearance remained calm, steel rang in his voice. "To run away like a coward?"

"So ya won't die," you parried. "How many people will ya save by being in the grave?"

"Will I save many by running away?" he persisted.

"At least ya'll stay alive and learn your lesson," you reasoned, spreading your arms out to the sides. "And if ya learn it right, ya'll be stronger."

"At the cost of the lives of the people I left behind?" Megumi continued to snarl.

"Exactly," you snapped, and Megumi bit his lip without expecting it himself. He was used to you and your perpetually calm and cheerful tone, and the way it shifted at the snap made the hairs on the back of his neck stir. "Ya volunteered, and now ya're my apprentice. I don't care if ya want it or not, but you will obey me now," you spoke coldly and distinctly. Relaxing your clenched fists, you looked at Megumi. His body was still the same size, but it looked like he was shrinking. Taking a mug from the shelf, you started brewing coffee. "The rest of the voidrunners will start evacuating in a couple weeks, we will join them a little later," you announced, softening your tone. "Ya want coffee?"

"Tea."

"Okay," you said, pulling out a second mug.

Megumi didn't give up trying to protest. "I can start along with them-"

"Ya can't," you replied dryly. "Ya'll only go on raids with me."

"Do you distrust others that much?" the boy asked, raising his eyebrows skeptically.

You shrugged idly. "It just makes me feel better."

"Isn't it the same thing?"

Letting his words pass your ears, you continued your admonition. "When we're in the void, just drop the bags of supplies and run to the nearest rift. If anything goes wrong and we get separated, don't trust anyone, don't look at anyone, don't talk to anyone," you sighed restlessly, pouring coffee into one mug and putting a tea bag in the other. "Ya'll never guess who's standing in front of ya there," you added quietly.

"Don't you...," Megumi's voice came up, hesitating. "Don't you know how to tell the difference?"

You, with a fussy chuckle, began pouring boiling water into cups. "No, none of the hunters have built-in internal radar, only experience. And experience, as it goes, comes with the years."

"Too long," grumbled Megumi gloomily. "We don't have that much time."

You set the mug of freshly brewed tea next to him. "Ya wanted it all at once?" you teased him, smiling. "Ya gotta pay tribute to dioreacts. They've spent thousands of years learning how to act like humans. They learned not only how to stir tea or blink, but how to perceive our world in general," you circled the space with your hands for extra convincing. "The first dioreact didn't know that all the electromagnetic waves around them were just color to humans because that's exactly our interpretation of electromagnetic waves, and there is no color anywhere in the universe outside of the human brain. Perhaps the dioreacts even now don't know what color is, but just... Uh, I dunno, adjusted? Maybe they can see wavelengths and have memorized that that wave over there is green and that one over there is grayish brown. Hunters used to catch them at it a lot, but the more time the dioreacts spend among us, the more they learn about our perception."

"What else?" inquired Megumi impatiently. Your hand with the cup of coffee froze at your lips, and you stared at the boy warily. "Forewarned is forearmed, no?" he quipped.

You tapped your fingernail on the cup thoughtfully. "Frank used to tell me that hunters used to catch dioreacts at the 'where ya from?' question. The poor things would just freeze in place with their mouths open, unable to say anything. Probably because humans don't have a single word to describe their homelands because we can't have that knowledge," you sighed sadly without realizing it. "Now the dioreacts have learned, and if you ask, they'll tell ya about all the places on Earth they've been, and they'll tell you their family tree too. I'm exaggerating," you added, noticing Megumi squinting at you incredulously. "But ya," you pointed a finger at the boy. "Don't ya dare pry into anyone in the void with questions. If it's a demon, it'll know right away what ya're up to, so it'll either run away immediately or kill ya," you slid an assessing glance at the boy. "In your case, it's more likely the latter. No offense."

You nonchalantly continued sipping your coffee, hoping it didn't hurt him too much. It didn't occur to you that Megumi had gone through similar words and phrases many times before and he hardly paid attention to yours. Why did it seem to him right now that a previously unsuccessfully nurtured stimulus was faintly stirring inside him, though? "Y/N?" hesitantly Megumi turned to you.

"Hmm?" you hummed detachedly.

"Is Gojo okay with that? Well, that you're training me."

"Yeah," you sighed, setting the empty mug back in the sink. "He grumbled a little, though... But he couldn't just throw ya into the basement with chains with a shout 'I won't let anyone have you'."

"Well, actually he could," Megumi muttered, wrinkling his nose squeamishly.

"But he didn't," you quipped.

"Yeah, he didn't," the boy agreed with you. "Thank you for that."

"I had nothing to do with it."

"That's what you think," the unfamiliar slyness in his voice sent shivers down your spine. "I talked to others, so... You know, we've decided that if we ever move out, you can keep him."

"Thanks," you snickered, and Megumi was already grinning openly. "Go ahead and make the muffins. When ya're done, I'll go over to Dany's and then we'll practice tonight."

Megumi turned sharply toward you. "What?" he blurted out grumpily. "What do you mean 'I'll go over to Dany's'? What about me? Is this some kinda joke to you?" glaring angrily at you, he pointed at his clothes that were almost completely covered in chocolate mixture.

"Ya're not much of a diplomat," you teased, making a face at him. "I gotta feeling her out first, and then ya can talk without me. Now let's get to work," you nodded toward the bowl of dough.

You stood under the boy's angry gaze for a few more seconds before he went back to making muffins in silence. It was a good thing Megumi was silent, because if he'd said a word, the laughter you were carefully suppressing would have burst out.

It was a cute yet funny picture of Danielle weeding in the afternoon sun. The girl kept straightening the straw hat that had fallen off her head with her hands smeared in the ground – almost the same color as her bright sparkling hair.

You stood outside the backyard entrance, hesitant to open the wooden gate. Your hand clutched the package of homemade muffins - small but tasty - tighter to your chest, and the thought slipped into your head that if this treat won't help you, nothing would.

You opened the wicket with a deep breath, and Danielle reacted instantly, raising her head. Her hat flew off her head, and the girl, trying to steady it once again, stiffened in surprise. The hoe Dany was holding in her other hand fell to the ground along with the hat.

"Hey there, bun," you said, waving awkwardly at Danielle. "Before ya chase me away, I brought something in my defense," you informed jokingly, covering yourself with the treat package.

Maybe it was the physical exertion, but you wanted to believe that she did feel better. You wanted to squeeze her ruddy cheeks because in addition to the flushed red color, they had gotten a little chubbier. "Hey," you missed that kind tone and the way she was striding toward you to meet you. "I hope it's something edible," she whimpered, wrapping her arms around your shoulders.

Relief spread through your body as Danielle held out her arms to you. You gladly hugged her in return. "Like I don't know ya," you whispered into her hair and heard a soft giggle. "Let's sit down," you suggested and pulled Dany by the arm toward the garden bench that stood neatly against the wall of the house. Barely dragging her feet, Danielle made her way over to the bench, leaning her limp body against the wall. You sat down next to her and put the package on her lap, but she didn't move, half lying there with her eyelids closed. "Frank forced ya into?" you asked sympathetically.

"Yeah," Dany exhaled exhaustedly. "But there's an upside to it!" she braved it cheekily, as much as her strength allowed. "While ya're doing all this shit, all ya can think about is that ya can't wait for it to be over," Danielle said before she could finish - a laugh forming on her lips, and you chuckled in unison with her tired but still gleeful laughter as you admired her.

"He forced me too until I was about twelve," you smirked.

"How did ya get to escape this plantation?" inquired Danielle enviously.

"I rioted," you said belligerently, and the two of you giggled again. "I ripped up everything that was growing in the beds and stomped on it. Frank was so mad," you said, sucking in air through your teeth.

"How did ya even stay alive?" worried Danielle.

"Shaya saved me," you said, getting nostalgic. "She hid me behind her while Frank threatened to whip me."

"And Shaya didn't do anything to ya?" asked Dany incredulously.

"Nope," you shook your head. "She took me to my room, and when I asked what she was gonna do to me, she said I'd already punished myself," you exhaled convulsively, wrapping your arms around yourself. "I spent the whole night agonizing and thinking about her words, trying to figure out what she meant. I didn't realize until this morning. I was the one sowing and weeding those damn beds," Dany opened her eyes slightly. She was watching you from under half-open eyelids - at the way your gaze roamed the garden across from you. The girl rarely heard the longing in your voice, and every such moment returned with an unaccustomedness in her heart that made it beat faster. "I want ya come back home with me," you asked quietly.

"I want it, too," Danielle muttered in embarrassment, closing her eyes again.

Her desire was reflected in your phone. Not a single call, not a single message. "Why don't I keep ya as a garden slave for a couple more weeks?" you blurted out indignantly. "It gives ya a zeal, I see."

With eyes already wide open, Dany jumped up. The box nearly flew off her lap. "No!" she begged, looking up at you and clutching the package back to her.

"If ya want something, you have to say it," you muttered indignantly. "Ya'd better open it," you said, nodding toward the box. "Ya were hungry, weren't ya?"

With a hesitant nod, Danielle slowly unwrapped the package. She didn't know whether it was the sight of the ridiculous chocolate muffins or the tart but sweet smell that clouded her mind faster. She grabbed one and swallowed it whole, oblivious to herself or her own name. You mentally thanked Megumi for his decision to take the smaller baking dish.

You coughed meaningfully, slyly examining your nails in the sunlight. "Ya know, I didn't actually make them."

"What?" she whimpered excitedly with her mouth full. "I said I'd come back, but I didn't say anything about a relationship with Megumi-"

"Yeah, yeah," you sarcastically interrupted her, carelessly waving her words away. "Sure."

[June 19, 2020; 01:23am; hunters' hq]

Feeling the warmth of the couch was all your back had been asking for lately, and you'd been obediently fulfilling your body's desire despite your own. Your head rested peacefully in Kyle's lap, your eyes roaming the news feed on your phone.

You didn't notice how restlessly you fidgeted with your legs from time to time, not even the annoying sound of the soft material rustling could quiet you. Every time you fidgeted, you felt a soft scratching at the back of your head as you turned from one side to the other.

"What's wrong?" asked Kyle puzzled as you rolled over once again, sighing irritably.

"Everything's fine," you waved it off indifferently.

"Ya have a disgruntled face," he remarked, grinning.

You pulled yourself up and sat down, leaning back against the couch. "Rach only brought out two people," you rambled worriedly. "Only two, Kyle," you shoved a hand in his face with your index and middle finger raised. "That's an incredibly bad start."

Kyle intercepted your palm and kissed the pad of your finger. "Oh, come on," he laughed, looking at your perplexed face and releasing your hand. "It's a good start. She brought your new acquaintance out with her, by the way," he reminded you reasonably. "And Issu might bring more people out with him."

You turned and stared at the infirmary door, remembering the way Doc had slammed it shut in front of you and Kyle. Doc was an irritable, taciturn man, but the thought of how much work he'd have to do in the next few weeks made you shiver.

"...to the previous news. The incident that occurred in April this year in the nightclub N..."

Even though you were in your own thoughts, your skin began to itch painfully in places. You wanted to catch a glimpse of Nora, or Rachel, or that old lady whose name you couldn't ask - the old woman who'd come out of the void unconscious and ended up in the infirmary.

"...contacting the police station. Now, the police have suspended the investigation for unspecified reasons. In the following footage you can see a protest organized near the police station by the parents of the missing as well as concerned people..."

"Hey," Kyle called softly, tugging gently on your earlobe. You stirred, tore your gaze away from the infirmary door and dropped your head back into his lap. "Don't distress yourself. It's gonna be okay."

"I know," you exhaled gloomily. "It's just that I'm freaking out about being banned from the void and there's no way I can check to see if everything's okay."

"Oh, what bad guys we are," Kyle drawled sarcastically, pinching you again. "Taking care of your health."

"That's not what I meant," you muttered, waving his hands away. "Ya remember what Rach said after she came out of the void?"

"Yeah," Kyle nodded briefly. "That people are afraid to come out. They don't even believe Jonah."

"Exactly," you said. "Do ya remember any of this ever happening?" you tried to speak calmly, but you were out of breath.

"I'll still go on the raid after Issu, and I promise ya, I'll figure it out," he assured you softly, stroking your forehead with his thumb. "Don't worry."

"...at least twenty people. To date, eighteen of the missing have been identified..."

From the TV screen, neither pictures nor photographs looked at you. Ghosts. They wandered, hovering around you, but they dared not touch you. Against your better judgment, you felt their presence, felt their stares, felt even their silence. It felt like a dark silent whisper on your skin as if the ghosts were breathing right next to you. "Twenty-three," you said in a mesmerized whisper, looking at another picture of familiar features on the screen.

Kyle glanced fearfully at your face. It seemed pale in the light from the TV. "What?" he asked perplexedly.

You lifted yourself up again and sat up, tucking your legs under you, but you didn't do it as quickly as you had the first time. "Kyle, I haven't told ya everything," you said, guiltily hiding your gaze from his. "I think there's a diomorphea in there."

A second long silence made you look up. "Why didn't ya... Why didn't ya tell me at once?" there wasn't an ounce of accusation in his voice. Rather, a genuine misunderstanding of your disbelief.

"I was afraid ya'd tell Rach," you justified, looking at him dejectedly and shaking your head. "Ya know her, she would have just stormed in there and god knows what would have happened. Either she'd be dead, or a bunch of demons and with them the ones we're trying to save. Or both of it. I'm sorry," you shook your head harder.

Gently wrapping his arms around your shoulders, Kyle pulled you against him. "What did I promise ya just now?" he asked, leading you to think.

You rested your head on his shoulder, but you didn't dare take your eyes off the pictures. "That ya'll figure it out," you exhaled. "Kyle, ya can't keep fixing our fuck-ups forever."

"I'm your big brother," he grinned, stroking your back. "That's my job."

Wrapped in a blanket of warmth from a loved one, you couldn't help yourself. These people were still here with you, even if they didn't realize it. They were staring at you, drilling you, making you grit your teeth. You couldn't even cover your eyes because you'd just thought the russet-haired girl looking at you from the screen had blinked.

[June 20, 2020, 20:01, Tokyo, Tokyo Prefecture]

As you made your way along the roads of the busy evening city, you kept looking at your phone, for only maps helped you not to get lost in the stone jungle. Even though there were signboards at every turn, all those bright colors combined with the abundance of symbols and running from side to side to avoid hitting anyone in the crowd of people made your head spin.

You couldn't count the number of crosswalks you'd crossed, you didn't want to think about how many of them you'd crossed for nothing. Your desperate attempt to find a nightclub had taken you to unfamiliar places, and you stopped and sighed disappointedly, staring at your phone again, completely oblivious to the people you might be interrupting.

Disappointment was immediately replaced by bewilderment when a name popped up on your phone instead of maps. "Yeah?" you said hesitantly, bringing the phone to your ear.

"I can't leave you alone even for a minute, huh?" resented Gojo. "Where did you go?"

"I...," you started in confusion, looking around. "Uh," you muttered, turning around the other way, looking for clues. "I think I'm somewhere in Tokyo's downtown, but I'm not quite sure."

An irritated tongue cluck was heard on the other end. "What do you see?"

"Hmm," you pondered, continuing on your way. "I see a dental clinic," you looked over the hospital sign and cast a glance back over your shoulder. "Behind me is the Minami Hotel, I guess?" puzzled, you stopped at a crossroad. "There's something else around the corner that looks like a park and playground-"

Someone's arms went around your waist. "Boo!" they shouted in your ear, but you didn't even flinch, just squeezed your eyes shut at the loud sound. "Hey, you could at least look scared," came a cranky voice from behind you.

You tilted your head up, and instead of an offended face, you were met with a bright smile. "What, in public?" you asked hesitantly.

Gojo rubbed his nose against your forehead. A brief gesture that sent warmth through your limbs. "I'm not shy about expressing my lo-"

"I mean about the teleport," you interrupted quickly.

With an irritated snort, he let you out of his arms and you moved forward. "So where are we going?"

"To a nightclub," you replied carelessly.

"At your age?" resented Gojo, wrinkling his nose. "It's a little too late for that."

You paid no attention to his words, just continued to look around at the signs, completely oblivious to the fact that you now had a tour guide beside you. "Ya wouldn't happen to know anything about what happened at Nightclub N, would ya? It's still on the news, even though it happened back in April."

"Oh," stunned Gojo. "I was there day after, but no curses or cursed energy was there."

"And ya didn't tell me?" you huffed, glaring at him judgmentally.

"I didn't even think about it," he admitted honestly, shrugging his shoulders. "And you weren't back then," Gojo glanced at you, and seeing no anger or disappointment on your face, he exhaled in relief. "So what are we doing?"

"It would be a good idea to start by talking," you reasoned, looking ahead. "I had Meg do some snooping, and she found out that it's not just visitors who've been hit, but employees too. One, at least."

"So-so information," he grudgingly opined.

"Maybe," you agreed. "Better than nothing, though."

Surprisingly, things did go faster with Gojo, and you didn't feel so lost in the dust of the big city. You'd been wandering around that nightclub all this time, but for some reason you'd ignored the turn into the courtyard. He took your hand in his and led you to the right place in a few minutes - the best guide ever.

You pulled a wireless earphone out of the case and put it in your ear. "Meg, turn it off," you had only one answer to Gojo's questioning look. "Cameras," you explained with a shrug.

Nothing stands out - your first thought when you found yourself at the front doors. There weren't even any neon signs in this place - a simple gawker would easily miss a place like this in the night. While you pondered, Gojo walked to the door. Opening it, he gestured for you to come inside.

The first thing you encountered as you walked down the hallway dotted with plastic vegetation was the hostess desk. A woman in a white dress seemed to be filling out something, paying no attention to you. "Ahem," you coughed quietly, stepping closer to the counter.

The girl raised her head. "I apologize," she said sincerely, bestowing a welcoming smile. Her gaze focused as if she had just been pulled out of her thoughts. You nodded understandingly in response.

The hostess stared at you for a second, then looked behind you. Her eyes widened in surprise for a moment, and a blush appeared on her snow-white cheeks. It was obvious without words who she was admiring. "I apologize," she repeated, barely moving her eyes to you. "We're only open from ten p.m. onwards. Would you like to make a reservation in the VIP area?" she handed you one of the sheets she'd just filled out. "You can look over the seating and choose the one that best suits you."

"That's not why we're here," you said quietly and the corners of the woman's lips slowly but surely crept down.

She glanced furtively toward the dance area, which was behind a decorative grid. The grid was covered with flowers, but you could see the bar, where someone was already standing and looking in your direction. "If you're journalists, just go away," she whispered anxiously.

You took the sheet from her hands, and began to pretend to consider the seating plan. "Ya misunderstand," you assured her. "I'm a private investigator, I was hired by one of the families of the missing," the hostess shifted a concerned yet questioning look to Gojo. "Don't worry, it's just my comp-"

"Her husband," he stated, putting his arm around your shoulders. "Just family business."

"Well, or so...," you muttered, sighing.

"Mochi, have you already chosen where we're gonna sit?" his voice was already too ringing at times, but this time it was as if Gojo was deliberately speaking louder than usual. "Smile," he addressed the girl, and in contrast, his words sounded very quiet. You glimpsed again at the bars - it seemed that those who stood there had ceased to be interested in you.

She put on a duty smile. "Reservations are optional if you want to visit the dance area," she said in a minted but sweet tone.

You pretended to stroke Gojo's forearm that wrapped around your collarbones. In one deft motion, you pulled the picture from inside pocket, placing it under the sheet you were holding. Placing the paper on the counter, you tapped a random spot. "I think we'll sit here," you pushed the sheet away. "Do ya know her?" your quite question caused the girl's ribcage to begin to heave heavily when she saw the russet-haired girl. You mentally scolded her for potentially attracting unnecessary attention. "She worked here."

"Did her parents hire you?" the hostess fought her inner emotions for an outward smile. "I don't know," she whispered fearfully, though she was still smiling full-mouth. "I really don't know anything," her eyes glittered dangerously, and you carefully covered the picture with the paper. "Please, go away."

"Thanks," you said loudly and cheerfully, backing away from the counter. "See ya later," you nodded her goodbye and took Gojo's hand, and you headed toward the exit.

Barely waiting until you were on the other side of the glass doors, he stopped right in front of you. "So that's it?" he lamented. "We're just gonna leave like this?"

"No need to draw unnecessary attention. She was scared enough. I thought she was about to cry," you sighed doomfully. "But I left her phone number on the back of the picture."

"Okay," he drawled, smiling slyly. "Now what?"

After sneaking through a narrow alleyway and soiling your clothes in wet dust, you wandered around the back of the police station. Stopping at the wall of an adjacent building, you decided to exhale and think. Why was the hostess so scared? If it wasn't the employees at the bar, then who was standing there during off hours? Moreover, why did the girl only shake harder when she saw the picture?

From Gojo's perspective and in his opinion, you looked suspicious - two subjects loitering in the back of a police station. What was he supposed to do when he heard the back door click? Nothing but that - that's how he reassured himself as he pressed you against the wall. "Just play along, 'kay?" he whispered, facing your panicked incomprehension - you'd been pulled from your thoughts too abruptly.

You nodded hesitantly, but you weren't reassured by his plan or his actions. For the moment Gojo cupped your cheek, you felt that his fingers trembled. "Have you ever kissed?" you couldn't hear the inherent curiosity in his voice, the only thing you could catch among the words he spoke was sincerity. "Take it off," he demanded, leaning his forehead against yours. "Take off your mask," his words and actions became more insistent - his hand pressed you against him with such force that it was physically hard to breathe.

"Hey!" a sharp exclamation gave you the strength to push him away from you. "Girl, are you okay?" the police officer asked, flicking ash off his cigarette.

"Yeah," you assured him. "W-we just... Uh, we just forgot ourselves a little. I'm sorry," you said, taking another step away from Gojo.

"Kids...," the officer muttered. "You should go home and do this sort of thing," he admonished. Taking one last puff, the policeman put out the cigarette butt, tossed it in the trash can, and went inside.

"Uh, well," you sighed, making up for the lack of oxygen. Looking around the wall of the one-story police station, you noticed that there were two windowless passages - probably one of those rooms was what you needed.

Carefully making sure no one was looking in your direction from the windows, you moved closer to the wall, Gojo's confusion replaced in an instant by a prick of anger. He was immensely resilient, but even he was beginning to tire of your behavior. It was as if nothing had ever happened.

"And how would we get there?" you muttered to yourself, squinting at the brickwork.

Of course, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease you. It was beyond him. "What, are you out of energy because of your shaky legs?" he asked in a teasing tone, coming up behind you.

"No, it's just that I can't teleport to a point I haven't seen before," your seriousness made him roll his eyes so hard he could have sworn he saw his own brain. "There could be anything in there, after all. A box, another wall, or an iron pole. And I don't really wanna become a part of that."

"What a weakling you are," Gojo grimaced, grabbing you under the armpits and lifting you into the air. When he released you, you were already standing on the floor. Indoors.

It was dark here - not a single light bulb shone, but even so you could make out a bunch of metal lockers against the walls, a few long benches, and some scattered things. Locker room. No hits. Next room across the hall, then.

You went to the door and stood still, listening. There were no voices, no footsteps, no rustling. You gripped the knob and pulled gently, turning it. When the door wouldn't budge, you applied force and pulled a few more times. Nothing.

A tired, condescending sigh came from behind you. Gojo grabbed your shoulder and pulled you aside, then grabbed the handle of the door and opened it with a quiet crack.

In the darkness, you met only his arrogant smile. "Congratulations," you said sarcastically. "When they see this, everyone will realize someone's been loitering around here."

"And this is your gratitude?" whispered Gojo indignantly.

Instead of answering and bickering, you grabbed his hand and dragged him as quietly as possible down the hallway in the right direction. When you came to the next door, he moved you into the room without thinking or warning.

That's what it took to get to the evidence room, but it didn't look the way you'd imagined. The shelves were more for show, for there were boxes and packages scattered carelessly on them, just as there were on the floor.

Gojo picked up one of the clear bags, and after looking it over, handed it to you. You grinned approvingly when you saw the date and place written in black marker.

You silently began to scour the shelves and floor in search of at least the year you needed. The place was a mess, but systematicity still seemed from around the corner, slyly peering at what you were doing. You had already made it to January, and not wanting to miss anything, you took your time. "What makes you think demons are involved here anyway?" asked Gojo, setting another box aside.

"I saw them," you replied, scrutinizing the dates. "I saw those people right before I came out of the void."

"That's how," he replied, catching a glimpse of you. His tense shoulders relaxed every time he saw you start to put on weight. He'd already gone through almost the entire March, and after tossing aside a few more unwanted plastic bags, he got to the right one. "Hey," he quietly called out to you. "Is this it?"

You took the box in your hands.

#413091

April 6, 2020

Tokyo, Tokyo Prefecture, Nightclub N

Sealed

"It is," you answered without much joy. As you weighed the box in your hands, you looked up at Gojo with a puzzled look. "What kinda mockery is this?" you asked warily, setting the overly light box on the floor. Breaking the seal and opening it, you pursed your lips in frustration.

There was almost nothing, just a few cigarette butts with lipstick marks, a couple of bottles, a folding knife, bloody napkins, but, remarkably, one bag of white pills. "Not only did the police shut down the investigation, but the club was still working while the investigation was ongoing, now there's no evidence. Who's protecting them?" you wondered, reaching for the bag of pills.

"Probably the one who dragged people into the void," Gojo suggested, trying to find anything else on the bottom.

"Well, or at least someone closely associated with them. It wouldn't be a bad idea to find the owner of the club," you considered the pills, but there was nothing remarkable on them. Just a pure white color. "If the owner is aware of what's going on and he isn't a fool, there's probably some subsidiary company attached to the club, followed by the parent company, and the real names in that holding company are no longer to be found," you opened the bag and held it up to your nose. Nothing. Frowning puzzled, you slipped the packet to Gojo. "Smell anything?"

As soon as he brought it to his face, he immediately pulled it away, pinching his nostrils. "God... The smell is nice, but it's so pungent that...," he stammered, wiping away the tears that came to his eyes. "Put that away," he said and threw the bag at you.

You caught him deftly, and you and the pills stared at each other. The gears of your mind whirred again. You knew of only one demon capable of such brazen machinations right in front of everyone's eyes. If the pills contained black orchid that didn't bode well because in small quantities it was like a drug that induced a state of euphoria, and judging by the number of pills, the demon was obviously not alone in that club.

You glanced at the broken seal - eventually they'd find out that someone had been digging around here. The question was whether they'd find out who it was. "Let's get out of here," you said to Gojo and was about to move towards the door, but with the edge of your thief eye you caught a shine. "O-oh, what do we have here," you drawled mesmerized, reaching for the sealed bag containing the necklace.

"Are you crazy?" blustered Gojo, intercepting your hands. "We're not stealing evidence!" you snorted meekly but grudgingly, wrenching your hands free and quickly hiding them in your pockets, which made him squint his eyes suspiciously. "Empty your pockets," Gojo demanded in a commanding tone, to which you only flinched. "I said empty them!" he exclaimed, and despite your resistance, he did find what he was looking for, but not under the right conditions. A pair of gold rings. Gasping with indignation, he tossed them farther into a pile of boxes. "We're not stealing evidence! Geez, adults once told me not to get with the wrong crowd, but here I am," he whimpered, running a hand through his snow-white hair.

As he lamented, you couldn't stop the process - thoughts raced, each one trying to overtake the other. You couldn't hear the key turning in the locks or the quiet footsteps because of the silent noise. "Hands up," you raised your head, only to be met with an unfamiliar face and a gun pointed in your direction. "I said hands up!"

"Hey, hey," you justifiably rambled, raising your hands. "We can explain-"

"We?" barked the police officer. "Girl, are you out of your mind?" You barely had time to turn your head back before you heard the safety click, but even that couldn't alarm you as much as the realization that there was no one behind you. "Face the wall," the officer ordered, muzzle pointing at the wall.

You went obediently to the wall, and when you were almost there, you were pushed against it. Holding you by the neck with one hand, the policeman snapped your arms, and there was a clinking sound. Handcuffs.

If someone asked you at the beginning of the day how you'd spend your evening, you could list a bunch of options - watching a TV show, meeting with insiders, chasing the next artifact, sitting around a campfire with Kyle or Rachel, having a cup of tea or even a glass of wine - but you'd never guess how you'd actually spend it.

Part of your evening consisted of traveling to the holding cell at gunpoint.

When your handcuffs were removed, your phone, belt and earrings were taken away, the bars slammed shut behind you with a deafening clang. You pressed your face between the steel bars. "Hey," you called out to the departing cop. "I'm entitled to one phone call."

"Why don't you get a lawyer, too?" snickered the duty officer.

"Preferably. But ya'll need it if ya don't let me call," you said nonchalantly, keeping a friendly attitude.

Of course, you could have vanished from the cell as soon as he left, but you didn't want to be known as a fugitive on news programs across the country.

The man paused for a moment, thinking about something, and then turned back to you. With his piercing gaze boring into you and his hand on his holster, he handed you the phone, and as soon as you picked it up, it rang.

You shrugged your shoulders and backed away from the bars to avoid having it taken from you. "That'll count as your call," the man warned you.

You brought the phone to your ear, mentally preparing yourself for what awaited you. "Say please," Gojo scoffed from the other side. "Come on," he coaxed, taunting you. "Say please and maybe I'll get you out."

"I hope ya're pleased with yourself," were all the words that you could muster, stepping over your pride. "Please."

You heard neither confirmation nor another round of teasing; only short beeps. Despondently, you handed the phone to the officer, and as long as you had strength left, you clung to the iron bars and listened to every action that took place. The police officer seemed to be watching something, and every now and then, you heard the clatter of a mug against the table.

It seems like five minutes or fifteen have passed - you can't count in a cramped cell without a clock. The front door slammed, and loud footsteps sounded. "Please excuse my wife," a familiar chirp tickled your ears. "She's having a seasonal exacerbation."

***

You had already traveled a great distance, leaving the police station behind, but you hadn't said a word, which amused Gojo and worried him at the same time. Anyway, you still let him hold your hand, which meant you weren't that angry.

He was annoyed that he couldn't read your emotions because half of your face was hidden - it was like ripping half of a book out before he could read the rest of it. The question was no longer whether you were angry or hurt, but did you feel anything at all? "Well," he began slyly. "Are you gonna sulk like that?"

"I can't believe it," you said reproachfully, shaking your head. "Ya left me. Ya left me, abandoned me, humiliated me-"

"Is that how you talk to the man who bailed you out?" laughing, he stopped and stood right in front of you.

"It was a bribe!" you retorted indignantly.

"I'd do it again," he admitted solemnly, looking haughtily and cheerfully into your eyes.

"I know," you whispered. "But I thought we were best friends," he didn't notice the triumph replaced by panic the first time he saw your wounded gaze.

"No, no," he rambled anxiously, gently cupping your cheeks. "It's just a joke, really, I was just kidding-"

"I would never do that to ya," you managed to say, swallowing the lump in your throat. You wrapped your palm around his - the one that pressed harder against your face. You bit your lip in frustration. "I would never leave ya," seeing the glint in your averted gaze made everything inside him flip - from his soul to his organs. That wasn't the kind of glint he wanted to see. "I know I don't act the way ya'd like me to sometimes, but- Oh," your face changed immediately, from sadness to pure curiosity, and you let go of his hands and stepped around him, heading somewhere.

He was one-step away from bursting into tears himself, but your actions have left him stumped. After a moment of standing as if you were still here, he turned around. You were striding briskly toward the huge red glowing sign that read 'Spicy Dumplings'.

One might have thought that this was not enough to stomp on his heart, but then, as luck would have it, he thought that it had become too light in his pocket. His purse were missing. "Seriously?" he sighed, throwing his head back and staring up at the night sky covered in light noise. "There are so many people in the world, why her?" the stars were hidden - the stars were silent.

Megumi had seen his reflection in the mirror countless times and just as many times he'd experienced nothing - a man like a man, a person who didn't stand out, but now, as Kyle walked around him in circles with a measuring tape around his neck and pins stuck in his shirt, the boy felt genuinely excited.

Even though Megumi felt like a mannequin being abused, occasionally getting needles under his skin by accident, he still thought it was worth it. Megumi glanced at the mask made for him. Even without filters, it looked heavy, but the precise curves of its rigid material made it somewhat dangerous.

The boy jerked when Kyle once again grazed the skin on his shoulder with the pin. "Sorry," Kyle muttered. "I'm not very good at this."

"Then why don't others do it?" grunted Megumi, staring at himself in the mirror again.

The man only chuckled - no offense intended. "May I remind ya," he began softly in between. "Ya don't have to do this."

"I know," Megumi replied stubbornly. "I don't know how to do anything else, though."

"Do ya?" wondered Kyle sincerely. "What, no hobbies?"

Megumi looked at Kyle as if he was hearing those words for the first time. The man pressed his lips together understandingly and continued his tailor's work. Seeing another section of loosely dangling fabric, he pinched it down the boy's body and secured it with a pin. "Ya know, when ya get back, we can go fishing with together," he suggested light-heartedly, pulling out the now unnecessary needle and, finding no better option, jammed it between his teeth. "Or I could teach ya how to play the guitar," as Kyle cheerfully enumerated, Megumi only frowned his eyebrows harder. "In a pinch, we can weave beaded bracelets with ya," he laughed and his soft, deep voice floated around the room. "Okay, well, try this on," Kyle said, handing him the mask.

The mask was a little heavier than it looked, and Megumi held it for a moment before taking a deep jagged breath and leaning it against his face. The mask, making a clicking sound, sat perfectly. "How's that? Fine?" inquired Kyle, not giving up on trying to get Megumi to talk.

"Yeah," Megumi replied indifferently, and his voice came strangled and mechanical, but Kyle was used to that. "Just hot in this uniform."

"That's what ya saying now," Kyle pointed out. "Ya'll thank me a hundred times in the void."

"You?" the boy asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

The room went up in flames in an instant as if everything was lit up in red flames, but barely had the flash subsided when Megumi saw that it was Kyle's hands that were burning. "Me," Kyle said cheekily but still jokingly. "I'm the one in charge of thermoregulation here."

Megumi stared mesmerized at the man's hands - a second ago, they were still burning, burning as bright and hot as his disheveled gut. "I want that, too," the boy muttered quietly.

"Too, huh?" Kyle smirked meaningfully. "So ya okay with everything else?" turning away in embarrassment, Megumi tried to pull the mask off, but it wouldn't budge. He kept tugging at it while Kyle watched his desperate attempts. "Lemme help ya, you're gonna rip your face off," the man offered. "There are buttons on the sides," he informed, pulling the mask off the boy.

"You couldn't tell me before, could you?" an indignant Megumi panted, rubbing the line of his chin.

"My bad. Sorry," Kyle couldn't help it - the smile wouldn't leave his face. "By the way, uh… How's it going... with Dany?"

Megumi hated it when someone poked their nose into his life, much less his personal life. Shutting down, withdrawing into himself was the first reaction brought on by years of building up an internal psychology, but now that Megumi saw the unfamiliar warm gaze, he was glad that there was at least one person who was genuinely interested in his inner state. "I don't know, she doesn't talk to me," the boy said sullenly. "It would be better if she just told me she doesn't like me anymore," he added quietly.

"And how is that better?"

"Then I'd know for sure I don't stand a chance anymore," Megumi despaired. "I've been trying to catch up to her in training, but she's even running faster than me. I can't look for her in these damn woods," Megumi muttered, pulling off the top of his uniform and handing the fabric to Kyle.

Kyle knew that he shouldn't laugh at problems - neither big ones, nor small ones, nor their description. He was trying his best to remain silent now, only nodding significantly. "Well...," he drawled. "So there's definitely motivation to train even harder now."

"People have their limits," Megumi frowned, tugging on his home t-shirt with a jerk. "I think I've reached mine."

"Ya'd best remember well what ya just said," the man said sternly. "Remember it well and forget it. Otherwise, if I hear ya say that again, we'll stop training ya."

"And I'll continue without you," Megumi stubbornly persisted. "I may not be in control of it yet, but with or without you, I can still walk into the void."

"And die," Kyle finished for him, though the boy's sentence didn't require it. "Ya know what that's called? Cut off nose to spite face," seeing Megumi's haggard face, Kyle softened. "Come on," he paternally patted the boy on the top of his head. "How about this. When ya get back, I'll set up a rendezvous for ya and Dany."

Megumi hummed incredulously, shifting from foot to foot. "Can you really make it?"

Kyle didn't know what he was signing up for. Persuading a stubborn girl and trying to change her mind was a deep hole that couldn't be climbed out of with walls or even a ladder, but when he saw the faint smile flash across Megumi's face, he knew it was worth it. "I'll try."

You were already cooing with the waiter when you'd been apart for a minute – that was what Gojo saw in his mind, distorted by an unknown feeling. When the corners of your eyes crinkled once more, he felt an unfamiliar tingle under his ribs. It was directed, burning.

In two strides, he'd covered the distance from the front door to the table you were at and plopped down across from you. "Baby, could you not run away from me like that anymore?" shifting his gaze from you to the waiter, it went from soft to steely, all the blue was gone. The waiter was embarrassed by his direct gaze, and after glancing at you and seeing your nod, he hurriedly retreated to the kitchen. "So much for service," he muttered, looking after the waiter. "I didn't even order anything."

"I ordered ya mild shrimp dumplings and two cheesecakes," you said, looking at his profile - something in the air felt spicy from more than just the smell of the local sauce.

He didn't realize whether he liked it or not that you knew him well, the only thing that bothered and hurt him was that he didn't know you. Not even that. He knew something about you, but only from other people's words and among them was none of yours. "Well?" he inquired, finally turning in your direction. "What's next?"

"Cholesterol plaques," you chirped in pleasant anticipation. "I've been eating nothing but soup and porridge for weeks now, one more day like this and I'll hang myself."

"I'd look at that," Gojo drawled detachedly.

"Is something wrong?" you worried. "It's like ya angry."

He was silent for a few more good moments, staring out the window and tapping his finger on his chin. "Frank told me you've been missing for three years. What have you been doing?" you swallowed all the words out of surprise and stared at him stunned. "What?" asked Gojo indifferently. "You know everything about me, I know nothing about you. That's not very fair."

"It's not like I have a choice," you tried to gently remind him.

"Really?" his voice remained calm, but it still made you want to squirm in your seat. "My negligent students tied you up and made you listen to all the facts about me?"

"It's dif-"

"Different, yeah," he interrupted, shaking his head and leaning back in his chair - away from you. An inner voice yelled at him to shut his mouth, too bad Gojo was deaf at that moment. "Tell me, what does human meat taste like? I heard somewhere that it tastes like chicken, is that true?" your heart was definitely tied with fishing line and started to squeeze, and if not, why did you feel like blood was dripping off it? "Oh, come on," he laughed, seeing the subtle change on your face. "Well, you ate a couple people, who among us is not without sin?"

You looked around, almost unable to see anything through the haze, but there didn't seem to be anyone near you. "If we don't shut this down, I'm gonna eat ya too," you tried to guffaw, keeping your face straight. "Alive."

"I'm just trying to get to know you better," Gojo stared at you, trying to catch everything he could - gestures, facial expressions, anything. Every time he caught something he wanted, satisfaction involuntarily spread through his body. Paradoxically, the thought of enjoying it made him sick, but he couldn't help it - your hypocrisy was wearing him down. You were the one who'd first said you'd never revisit the subject, and yet every day with every unspoken word, you reminded Gojo that you didn't trust him. "I get that you're trying to seem mysterious, but have you ever wondered how it looks?" he chuckled sarcastically. "You look like a wretched runaway," you sat up, listening and memorizing every word. "Maybe I should tell you what happens to people who don't open up to anyone?" he leaned closer to you as if he wanted to tell you a secret that was known only to him. "Let me better demonstrate, though," Gojo got up from the table, and still looking at you, distanced himself a couple steps away. "Look at that," he snapped his fingers, pointing to his now empty seat and grinned contentedly. "You're all alone."

Gojo didn't try to get to know you better because then he could have asked you what your favorite color was, or movie, or music, but no. He got under your skin. Deliberately and painfully, choosing words that scratched and bit, and you didn't even have time to ask 'why' because his back, which had already disappeared behind the front door, would hardly have answered your question.

[June 30, 2020, 23:14, hunters' hq]

[10:59pm] You: We are going on a raid in an hour

[10:59pm] You: Megumi will text ya when he gets back

This message, like the previous ones, remained delivered but unread. Looking at it again, you went back to your routine. Books, lots of medical supplies, and more dry rations were what lay on the table. You and Kyle spread it all out into gym bags as compactly as possible, good thing you could carry twice as much into the void this time - thanks to your new apprentice.

Worries and doubts scrabbled at your mind as you put another packet of ibuprofen in your bag - did you tell Megumi everything you wanted to? Had you conveyed everything to him? Did he understand everything? The only thing you knew for sure was that you couldn't let him out of your sight. The first few times, at least.

You never missed an opportunity to remind the boy that if anything went wrong, he should run and not look back, and each time you said it aloud, you caught an increasingly annoyed look in his eyes. You believed that at the right moment, your words would play an annoying song in Megumi's head and he would do what you wanted him to do, even if it was against his own will. "Okay," Kyle pulled you out of your thoughts. "I got rid of most of the wardens, but others could come, be careful," he admonished you for the umpteenth time. "Remember they have been abused badly, more so than the others have ever told us, that's why they so afraid to come in contact. But I've prepared the ground," he poked you quietly with his shoulder. "Since Rachel took out three people, Issu will probably take out as many more, which means there will be at least two more in the hut," he wasn't discouraged, and you hummed in response. "Well," Kyle began in between, seeing your state of mind. "He still hasn't called?"

"Busy, I guess," at this point you ratted yourself out, for your brother didn't even give a name.

"I bet," Kyle muttered, pressing the contents of the bag to make some more room. "Why is your face long?"

"Not long, but focused," you brushed it off.

"Yeah, as ya say. Ya've been frowning for over a week. Even if I can't see it, I can feel it. And he hasn't been here in all that time," even though Kyle didn't like Gojo, there was a touch of sympathy in his voice. "What happened between ya two?"

"Nothing happened," you retorted. "And nothing's gonna happen," you added, softening. "He just... Dunno, he just got mad all of a sudden. Maybe it's because I don't tell him anything about me or what happened to me," you sighed sadly, your actions becoming slower and moodier.

Kyle was angry. You'd never told anyone anything, not even your loved ones, so where did Gojo get this idea of his uniqueness? "He'll get over it," he muttered. "If he doesn't, the hell with him. Let him cling to someone else."

"Ya'd be happy to," you said, grinning slyly. Maybe there was truth to Kyle's words, but you couldn't wash away that sticky acrid feeling with water or soap. Gojo must have felt the same way then. You were both disappointed in you. "We forgot the sugar," you said, going through the supplies on the table. "I'll get it."

At your brother's concerned look, you walked out of the workroom, went up the stairs and down the hallway. You were already a foot away from the fridge, only the sickening feeling of suddenly soaked socks made you cringe. "What the...," you squeaked, taking a step back.

There was water under the refrigerator. In spite of the puddle, you walked over to it and jerked open the door - not even a light bulb on. "Great," you mumbled to the empty room, and jerked the door back shut.

As if you didn't have enough troubles already, now you had to buy a new fridge. You liked it, though. It might be red, it might have daisies on it, but you were too used to it. "How much longer ya gonna look for sugar?" Kyle asked rhetorically, leaning against the doorjamb and watching you search the drawers for a rag. "Come on," he walked over to you, putting his arm around your shoulders to ward off all the fuss. Kyle glanced first at the refrigerator and then at the puddle that had spread beneath it. "That thing was barely hanging on. I'll walk ya out, and then I'll clean this place up."

Something was pressing against your shoulders. It clearly wasn't Kyle's hands. They might have looked massive, but everyone close to him knew how gentle the man could be.

The door creaked open on the second floor. "Please don't go," a pleading voice made your heart clench. "Ya're not ready yet, ya've had too little practice," came the sound of footsteps - some hurried, others hesitant.

Everything fell into place when the two persons finally came down - Megumi and Daniel. She grabbed his sleeve, asking him to stop, but he didn't even look in her direction. Yanking his arm out of her weak grip, he stood beside you. "Y/N," the girl pleaded. "Please tell him he's not ready."

"But I already told him he's coming with me today."

"W-what?" she asked in a stammering voice, looking at you as if you'd plunged a dagger under her ribs. "No-no-no," she shook her head desperately. "Why didn't ya ask me?"

You raised an eyebrow uncomprehendingly. "Should I have?" you asked indifferently. "If ya'd given him a chance to talk to ya once, maybe ya would have found out sooner."

"Don't ya fucking dare put the blame on me!" she shouted, and the outburst made the tears she'd been holding back roll down her cheeks. "Ya owed it to me to tell me!" her ringing voice began to break. "Ya took my mother away from me," she muttered. "Y-ya took my father from me," she continued to squeeze the words out of her through all the pain and hardship. "Now ya want him too?"

"Dany, not in public-"

"Not in public?!" she yelled. "He could die out there and all ya're worried about is me telling about your sins?" she laughed bitterly, wiping her wet face with her hands.

"Megumi, go to the workroom," you said softly, nudging him toward the exit. The boy hesitated a few steps and stopped, but you weren't looking at him.

"Now ya wanna take my boyfriend too," it wasn't a question anymore. It was a statement. A weak, quiet assertion.

"Dany, please calm down," Kyle gently tried to reassure her, cautiously stepping closer to her. "Megumi's gonna be fine-"

"Back off," she pulled away sharply from Kyle.

"Should I mention that he's no longer your boyfriend?" if there had been thread in the room, you would have sewn your mouth shut. There weren't, though. "You dumped him, remember?"

Danielle's rage didn't disappear - it just became as quiet as the girl's tears. "I hate ya," the words were almost impossible to hear, but you understood everything from her barely moving lips. "I hate ya so much that not even your death will make me love ya again."

Before she turned away from you, you saw the helpless anger in her eyes. You watched in a daze as she went up to the second floor on weak legs and then disappeared from sight. "Dany," Kyle called out to her, forcing you out of your stupor.

You quickly followed her upstairs and sighed as you realized you hadn't made it in time - the door to her room had already slammed shut. You banged on it with all your might. "Dany, open up!" instead of the usual words or silence, you were met with a ragged sob. You and Kyle looked over at each other anxiously. "Danielle!" you groaned again. "If you don't open it, I'm gonna kick the fucking door down!" you warned.

Your eyes blurred as her sobs subsided.

There was a rustle of sheets followed by quiet footsteps. The lock of the door clicked.

You were greeted by your loved one's face, but it was very different from the one you'd seen in the kitchen. No more anger, no more rage - just disheveled blond hair, red puffy eyelids, and grief. "Dany, I-"

You were interrupted by your own phone, and you almost whimpered in frustration. You glanced at the screen, and the evening's call from that person didn't bode well. It was Rachel.

"Answer it," she said weakly. "It must be very important," you didn't get a word out before she closed the door quietly in your face. Kyle turned the knob with a barely perceptible movement to leave a small gap.

You pressed the screen with force, and only a miracle saved it from cracking. "Speak," you snapped into the phone.

"Ah- H-hey," even if Rachel hadn't stuttered, you'd have realized she was drunk. "I can't re- relocate. I can't catch a cab either. Get me out of here," she whined.

"Okay, Kyle will pick you up-"

"No!" she yelled into the phone. "If ya don't get me out of there, I swear ya will be no longer my fucking sister," Rachel hissed.

"Rach, I've got a raid-"

"I'm supposed to care about that?" she hiccupped angrily. "Kyle always has to do everything for ya, doesn't he? Kyle this, Kyle that- Hey! Hey, asshole!," she was still yelling, but her voice was muffled. "Ya blind? No? Then maybe I'm nothing to ya?"

You and Kyle looked at each other grimly - even from here, your brother could hear the mayhem going on at the other end of the phone. The crack of wood, broken glass, shouts, muffled thuds - you squinted your eyes at every sound. "Hey," Rachel's voice was back to ringing, distinct and drunken. "Anyway, pick me up already. I rarely see ya, I feel like I don't even have a sister."

You didn't get a chance to ask where she was. Rachel just dropped the call. "What kinda day is this," you whispered in a broken, shaky whisper, rubbing your hot forehead with the palm of your hand, still staring at the phone screen.

Kyle wrapped his fingers around your chin, forcing you to look up at him. "Go," he ordered, trying to ignore your glistening eyes. "It's okay, just go get Rachel."

"But what about-"

"Today was supposed to be my shift anyway," he reminded you, hugging you. "Ya'll just go after me."

"Alright, then tell Megumi we'll be leaving in three days," you nodded briefly, snuggling up to him.

"Nah, he's waited long enough," he laughed. "I can't stand the even more sullen face he has now," feeling you clinging to his t-shirt, he tried to reassure you as best he could and knew how. He pulled you even tighter against him and burrowed into your hair. "It's been so long," he whispered. "It's high time ya learned to believe in us."

"Okay," you exhaled raggedly, unable to tear yourself away from your brother. "Take care of him. Take care of yourself, too. Please," the glimpse of black streaks creeping up your fingers made you pull away from him. Kyle kissed your forehead briefly, but you felt his lips linger on your skin a little longer than usual.

You took a couple steps away from him, and after taking another look at him, you turned around and headed for the stairs. "Y/N?" he called out to you.

You were so expecting it that you turned to him again without thinking. "Yes?" you asked with hope in your voice.

He winked slyly. "See ya," he waved goodbye, and you caught the glint of his silver bracelet.

"See ya," you giggled, waving back at him.

As you walked away, you tried to keep a confident gait, but some thing pressed on your shoulders again.

Half the bar was trashed, no customers, only one redheaded girl sitting on a stool with her head on the table, either asleep or unconscious. After leaving Kyle, you called her a dozen times, and on the millionth call, you were swearing at everyone and everything. After you'd gotten her on the phone through your despair, you'd gotten her address, and there you were, standing there, among the shards of mugs and chips from tables and chairs.

Under the wary gaze of the man in the black shirt, you walked over to Rachel and shook her by the shoulder. She mumbled inarticulately. "Do you know her?" he asked sternly.

"Yeah," you replied indifferently, still trying to rouse your sister.

"All right," said the manager. "Then I'm calling the police," he informed.

"Please don't get the police," you begged resignedly. "I'll pay for everything, just... Really, let's not do that. I'll leave you a phone number," you said, picking up one of the surviving napkins from the table and turning around to face the man. "Do you have a pen?"

He looked at you incredulously from head to toe, but your earrings seemed to convince him. He handed you a pen, and you quickly wrote your number on a napkin. "Here," you held out the phone number to him. "You can check it out."

Done. He dialed the number you had written, and your phone rang. "I'll send you the bill," the manager said formally. "Now get her out of here before she trashes the surviving half of the bar."

"Yeah, just...," you swallowed uncertainly. "I'll just bring her to her senses," the manager nodded, but didn't move. When you looked at your sister again, rage came over you, but remembering that you were in a public place, you immediately nipped it in the bud.

Grabbing Rachel by the scruff of her neck, you dragged her into the restroom. She struggled sluggishly and mumbled something, but you paid no attention. Kicking open the door, you tossed her right into the sink. "Did ya have fun, bitch?" with helplessness, your voice started to break again. You opened the faucet, and to your delight, ice-cold water came out of it.

You held Rachel's hair with your hand and tried to keep her head close to the stream, otherwise she'd just slide to the floor; with your other hand you scooped up the water and smeared it right over her drunken red face. "Do ya even remember ya have a son? Why aren't ya at his place?" you began to gasp along with her - she from the water, you from despair.

"I can't see him-" she stammered and choked, and you wondered if it was really the alcohol, the water, or her own words. "I-I'm gonna throw up," she practically forced the words out of her, choking on the water.

Whimpering, you pulled her hair and dragged her straight to the toilet stall. As soon as her head was bent over the toilet, everything started coming out of her. She coughed and spit, and you held her unruly hair back, even though the only thing you wanted to do right now was drown her in her own vomit. "Are ya having fun now? Do ya like living like this?"

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, and the sounds of vomiting were heard again. "I... I won't do it again."

You bit your lip, almost tearing it off - how many times had you heard those words, and there was no truth to them, like wandering through a dark forest without a light, looking for a path. It was the same thing over and over again. "Wait here," you said, not sure why - she couldn't have disappeared in her condition.

Leaping out of the restroom and grabbing the first whole glass you could find, you went back in and filled it with water. "Drink," you commanded, shoving the glass under your sister's nose.

"I don't wanna," she tried to push your hand away weakly.

"I said drink," you grabbed her hair again, forcing her face up. As the water poured into her open mouth, Rachel leaned over the toilet again, choking.

They didn't want to leave you alone, the ringing of the phone hit your ears again, making you grit your teeth. "Speak."

"Young lady, what kinda tone is that?" resented Frank. Your insides dropped as you felt Rachel was about to throw up again.

"Sorry, Frank, I didn't see who was calling," you said absently, turning away and putting the receiver away from the source of the noise. "Look, lemme call ya back in an hour, 'kay? We're just at the bar with Rachel, it's not really convenient to talk right now."

"One hour," the man snorted angrily and hung up.

"Thanks," Rach mumbled and as you watched this, you slid down the wall, falling to the cold tile. Looking at her sweaty face and the wet red strands sticking to it, you were furious that you couldn't do anything about it. But if you couldn't do anything about it, then why were you even bothering with it? "I kinda feel better," she mumbled more clearly already, wiping her lips. "Let's go home."

Sighing, you grabbed her under the armpits, forcing her to stand. Rachel leaned on you like a personal prop, and you waddled away from the bar to the judgmental stares. When you reached the alley, you pulled your sister tighter against you.

"Relocate."

You fell onto the soft bed in your sister's room just as you'd been in the alley a second ago - tired, in dirty clothes and shoes. When you sensed something wrong, you moved Rach to the edge of the bed and rolled her onto her side, and went to the bathroom to get a basin, pour some water into a glass, and grab some micellar water.

Before Rachel threw up again, you managed to put the basin on the floor. Putting everything else on the nightstand, you began to undress her. Clumsily pulling off her sneakers, you couldn't lift her torso to pull down her pants. "Help me already," you groaned, tugging at her legs.

Grumbling to herself, Rachel lifted her hips, and you yanked off her jeans with. You realized you didn't have the energy for outerwear - let her sleep like that. Rach was still stirring restlessly, apparently never having fallen into slumber.

You sat down next to her, and after soaking a cotton ball in micellar water, you began to wash off her makeup. "Ya mad?" she asked weakly.

"Not really," you lied, trying not to take the anger out on her face.

You were smearing mascara and eyeliner all over her cheeks, and no one really knew how much absorbent cotton and micellar water it took you to wash it all off. Rachel was already breathing normally, though she was lying in an uncomfortable position - her right arm oddly bent over her face. But she seemed to be asleep.

You rolled her onto her side again, and praying that she would stay that way until morning and not choke on her own vomit, tried to crawl quietly off the bed. "Don't go," she begged quietly, grabbing at your sweater. "Lie with me for a while."

"Okay," you gave in to her helpless pleas and gently lay down on the other side of the bed.

Who knows how much strength it took for her to turn around to face you? "I miss ya," she sobbed.

You realized she wasn't talking to you at all. "I know. Go back to sleep."

There was nothing left in the room but your breathing. As she fell asleep, you knew that tomorrow Rachel would have a headache, and she would snap at everyone she met. You watched her face sink deeper and deeper into the pillow, her occasional smacking of her lips, her frown, and reassured yourself that maybe she was dreaming something good this time.

The warning signs were scattered around the kitchen. To be more precise, they were sitting there. Director Yaga stared in amazement at you coming down from the second floor, for he had been informed of your absence. "Mr. Director," you greeted him in a surprised but tired manner, glancing around at the others. There was Shoko, standing at the open window, blowing cigarette smoke, Yuji, who didn't look up from his desk, and Megumi, who had finally returned, alive and well. "Back?" you asked the boy, grinning approvingly. "Good. Go rest."

You probably said it to yourself - you were barely thinking. Automatically shuffling your feet, you headed for the workshop. "Y/N," a distressed voice stopped you.

Your face contorted instantly. Your eyes squeezed shut on their own and your lips pressed into a thin line against your will. 'Don't ya do this to me,' you begged silently someone who wasn't in this room.

Wiping the pain from your face with your hand, you took the only acceptable emotion you could muster. Benevolence. You turned around, and walking over to the table and standing in front of Megumi, you continued to pretend that everything was fine. "What is it?"

You refused to see the fear in Itadori's eyes, but you couldn't help but notice the fear in the black-haired boy's young features. Maybe if you hadn't looked so straight ahead, maybe if you'd known to look away, you wouldn't have seen the guilt.

Megumi refused to look you in the eyes - he was drilling a point near your neck, hiding his hands under the table. "I...," he began, but a gasp knotted his throat, and he clenched his teeth with such force that his tense jaw showed through his skin. "I'm... I'm- I'm so sorry," let it be his words - he was holding it together just fine, unlike Itadori. As soon as Megumi finished speaking, tears began to stream down Yuji's cheeks. It felt like molten metal had been poured into your lungs instead of air. It filled you from the inside out, rising higher and higher, coming up to your throat. "It's my fault," he admitted, reaching his hand out from under the table and handing you a silver bracelet.

You wanted to ask the boy a stupid but sincere question - whose bracelet was it? But as soon as you took it in your hand, you already knew the answer, for the size of the jewelry left no doubt as to who had once owned it.

"What...," you stammered, feeling the jewelry in your hands. It was warm, almost hot - apparently, Megumi had warmed it in his hands for a long time. "What happened?"

"Jonah brought more people to evacuate," the boy began in a trembling voice. "Kyle said we couldn't get everyone out at once. I insisted, though. I promised them I'd get them out," his eyes finally glistened, but not a single tear still fell. "I said I could take them out, but Kyle warned me that I couldn't take out six at a time. Then the people started... Th-they... They begged, begged me to take them out right now...," he sobbed, pressing himself harder against the back of the chair and lowering his gaze, hiding his face in his hand. "I convinced Kyle that I could do it. I really felt it," the boy pleaded, raising wet eyes to you. "He went to walk us to the rift, except...," he breathed intermittently and shallowly, swallowing thick saliva. "When we were close to the rift, it turned out they weren't people at all," he looked up at you, making sure you understood what he meant. "I wanted to stay, but he pushed me away, and I think I ripped it off him at that point," he glanced at the bracelet in your hands, licking his chapped lips. "First he pushed me away, then relocated me closer to the rift, and then I think he relocate himself, but...," stingy tears spilled from his eyes like begging atonement. "Before I went in, I turned around. They- They torn him ap-"

"I got it," you interrupted without listening to the rest of the story.

It was as if all the water had evaporated from your body - it was so dry it was hard to move your limbs, your eyes refused to blink, saliva pooled in your mouth as if you'd lost all your basic reflexes. "There's nothing ya can do now. Go to bed," you said blankly. Your gaze fell on the pack of cigarettes that was peering through the white robe of Shoko, who had approached you. Ieiri silently reached into the pocket, pulled out a cigarette and held it out to you, paired with a lighter. "Thanks."

It was a long walk to the window, for the floor underfoot was not parquet, but viscous glue. The phone rang for the umpteenth time, but you weren't angry or annoyed. You didn't care. That's what you thought, until you saw the name of the caller.

It was Frank.

You took a cigarette in your teeth and lit it, but you hesitated before answering the phone, your numb hands deliberately delaying the moment. The phone screen went out, but immediately lit up again. "Hey, Frank."

"It's been well over an hour," he sighed. "If ya can't call me back, at least send me a text so I don't worry-"

"Frank."

"Don't interrupt me, that's not what I taught ya," he frowned, reminding you of childhood admonitions. "How's Rachel doing? Have ya been watching her?"

"Frank," you tried again.

"Did she drink a lot?" the agitated man persisted. "She did something wrong, didn't she?"

"Frank!" you shouted into the phone. The silence was so empty and impersonal, only the waves crashing against the rocks reminded you what kind of world you were in. You took a puff for the first time in a long time. Your head was spinning, but you remained standing at the open panoramic window. "Kyle, he's... He's dead."

When you said it aloud, you brought it to life, bringing chaos not only to your soul, but to the souls of others as well. There was a long silence, and the sound of the waves began to subside along with the beating of the heart. It would have been better if Frank had never spoken, for instead of his words you heard only something mechanical, and the ringing in your ears made it impossible to make out what was said - past, future, anguish, joys, sorrows and moments of happiness - all merged together and seemed to sink into the bay before your eyes.

You threw away the burnt cigarette and pulled the silver bracelet out of your pocket; it was cool as it lost its warmth. There was no blood on it, no pieces of skin. You put it to your lips, hoping to feel Kyle again. It was no use. The jewelry gave off only your warmth.

You didn't immediately realize that Frank had gone silent. 'Yeah, okay,' you said on automatic. You seemed to hear the words 'Hopetown', 'funeral', 'two days'. Were 'two days' accurate? Did Frank say three? Did he say anything at all?

Before you could come to your senses and have time to ask again, Frank hung up. "Y/N," Principal Yaga's worried voice came from behind you. "Is there anything we can do for you?"

You lost your brother, and you are unlikely to ever see again those people who were first gifted with hope and then left in the void. "Yeah," you replied coldly, turning to look at those present. You were still desperately pressing the jewelry to your lips. "Your job."

Seeing the principal nod briefly, you walked past heading for the workroom, throwing all Kyle's hopes, plans, dreams, and silver bracelet into the trashcan.

next ⊳

34 notes · View notes

strawberrylesbiana · 1 day

Text

Cloudy days clear nights

summary: When you grow up in a home where your parents are emotionally absent it affects your life, when your mother wasn't prepared to be a mother and throws all the traumas and insecurities she had at you it's not easy, a father who doesn't know how to apologize and lives drunk and has aggressive tendencies isn't easy to deal with, and reader relapses on a bad day that leaves you stuck in thought and she doesn't tell Natash, leaving her worried.

warnins: angst with happy ending , angst to fluff, use of Y/N sometimes, suicidal thoughts, mention of self-harm and scars from self-harm, Be careful if this triggers you, don't read if you know you can't deal with triggers, you are not alone and don't be ashamed to ask for help.

All the ghosts of the past follow me to this day, they all live in my mind and make me tremble like a child, today in particular was a difficult day, one of those reminiscent of school days.

The day had started well but the mission had gone wrong which had resulted in intrusive thoughts questioning whether she was really worthy of being there with the Avengers, then there was the meeting with Tony where he made a point of reminding her of the mistakes she had made.

At lunchtime there was the problem with the rain and the first phone call from her mother, the more the phone rang the more her appetite went away, there was no putting off the call for long.

The unpleasant voice came from the other end of the phone, things like "why are you still working there?" "you've been in newspapers all over the world, do you know how hard it is to have a daughter who doesn't do anything useful?" "did you really try to do something? of course not, you've always been worthless".

the voice yelled and screamed for a few minutes before hanging up, before Y/N could say anything or defend herself her mother's voice didn't stop and when it did it was because she hung up the phone.

To make matters worse, for the rest of the day her girlfriend, Natasha, was stuck at work until later, when Y/N was lying on her bed staring at the ceiling, she spiraled into a spiral of negative thinking.

she saw herself in high school again, being bullied by her classmates, she saw herself at that time taking out all the anger she felt on herself, she saw herself as the useless girl she had felt all day.

Y/N didn't know when she started crying but she felt the tears dripping from her eyes. She went into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror, her hair messy with tears and her eyes red.

-How could Natasha like someone like me? - she asked herself, she had scars all over her thigh and wrist, she wasn't even that pretty.

-"Maybe I should just disappear... she wouldn't even notice," she muttered to her reflection in the mirror and sat down on the bathroom floor.

When the redhead returned home in the early hours of the morning, she felt a strange air hanging over the apartment. She walked into the kitchen, where the lights were off and a cold plate was on the sink.-Baby? - Natasha called out as she walked to her room. The light in the bathroom at the end of the corridor was on, which made her follow her there.

-"Honey, are you all right? It's me," Natasha said, trying to open the door and failing. "Honey, open the door," she said in a tone where she was almost begging her girlfriend to open the door.

The lack of response worried Natasha, who began to try to force her way into the bathroom. When the door opened, Natasha almost fell into the bathroom. She saw her girlfriend lying in the bathtub crying.

-Bear?- she said, running over to her girlfriend in the bath and kneeling down outside the bath - Look at me, darling, are you all right? What happened? - she says worriedly, putting her hand on Y/N's cheek.

The woman in the bathtub looks at the redhead and tears fall more than before -You shouldn't see me like this - she says as she looks away from her girlfriend.

-"Sweetheart," the redhead says as she steps into the empty bathtub and pulls her girlfriend onto her lap, "talk to me," she says as she strokes her girlfriend's hair. It took a while for Y/N to finally talk, she looked at Natasha and felt like crying even more.

-Today was so stressful...I made a mistake during the mission and Tony wouldn't let me forget it, so my mom called me...and - Y/N stuttered through her tears - I feel so useless, like I don't deserve this life - Y/N's comment made Natasha's heart sink, the redhead continued stroking the woman's hair in her lap and kissed her forehead.

-"Sweetheart, mistakes happen, life isn't easy but we can't let mistakes consume us, you fought to be here and you deserve all of this, I love you so much," she said, wiping away her girlfriend's tears, "come on, let's go to bed, so I can hug you properly," Natasha said, getting up and helping her girlfriend up too, she held her girlfriend close as they walked to the bed.

-Thank you Tasha - Y/N says as she looks at her girlfriend changing to lie down next to her.

-Thanks for what? - the redhead says, looking at the girl sitting on the bed.

-"For taking care of me...not letting me give up." The girl on the bed says looking at her scarred left arm, Natasha walks over to her and sits down next to her, taking her hand and intertwining their fingers.

-Thank you for what? - the redhead said looking at the girl sitting on the bed.

-For taking care of me...don't let me give up - The girl on the bed said looking at her scarred left arm, Natasha walked over to her and sat down next to her, taking her hand and intertwining their fingers.

-"Honey, you're my girlfriend and I love you more than anything, I'm not going to let you just fall apart, how many times have you helped me, huh? we're a couple, in good times and bad," Natasha says as she pulls the girl close and kisses the scars on her arm. "Those scars just show how strong you are, baby," Natasha says, looking into the eyes of Y/N, who was almost falling asleep in her arms.

-I love you Natasha.

-I love you too Y/N.

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #lesbian #sapphic fanfic

53 notes · View notes

acourtofthought · 2 days

Note

Whenever I see an Elriel say: SJM told us the mating bond could be rejected for a reason! Elain is going to reject Lucien to be happy with Azriel!

The only thing I can think is: Yes, she did tell us that, but she also told us the consequences of that, and that's the part Elriels always seem to forget or ignore.

Even if Elain does reject the bond, she will never be able to be fully happy with Azriel because she will always feel the remnants of the bond lingering deep inside her chest. Even if she loves Azriel and wants to give him her heart, mind, body, and soul, a piece of her will always be tied to Lucien. There's no getting away from that. It's a simple fact, and as interesting as a rejected bond could be, it doesn't seem fair or right to have Elain end up with Azriel when they will both be eternally haunted by the shadow of Lucien.

And it doesn't seem fair or right for Lucien to suffer a rejected bond, even if somehow the Vassien shippers are right and he ends up in love with Vassa, he too will forever feel the lingering bond and then what? Vassa is human and will die much sooner than Lucien. So I guess they want him to be "happy" only for a few decades, then just go on living the rest of his life alone, haunted by the loss of Jesminda, Elain, and Vassa.

You're so right! If you ask me for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and I take away the peanut butter and jelly, I'm just feeding you bread. Sarah has given us a ton of information regarding the bond yet E/riels cling to the random snippets of information that suit their narrative while acting like the rest doesn't matter.

"You said your mother and father were wrong for each other." "What if - that is what she needs?" They love that line and it's used exhaustively in arguments. But they don't bother to think on why Rhys's parents were a poor matched. Bonds do not make poor matches. Personalities make poor matches. Rhys's father was vicious and cold, his mother was soft and fiery. We KNOW Lucien is not vicious or cold. Az is the one with a temper, an icy rage, a hatred of many people, a torturer. Rhys's mother managed to have two children with her husband and we're not given hints that she was forced against her will, it says she eventually grew to resent him. Why don't they focus on that part? That their downfall came about from their personalities? And with that awareness, how they can they claim the same won't happen to Elain and Az? She might be fine with him for a bit but what if she eventually grew to resent him too? You don't need a mating bond for that to happen, it happens all the time in the real world without bonds. They focus on how Sarah mentioned she has turned the idea of bonds over in her head, is there choice? Once again, proof for E/riels that Elain's choice has been taken away and she's decide to be with Az instead! But they ignore how she goes on to say "or is it both?". For every character so far, it's been both and she even tells us she's not saying whether she'll explore a rejected bond or not which is not a confirmation that it's what we're going to see for Elain. As always, they ignore how Elain and Lucien will always feel a tug to one another even if they reject the bond. They pretend that one doesn't exist but what that means is that no matter how long Elain and Az are together, no matter how happy they might seem, they are BOTH going to know that Fate chose Lucien for her and she'll have a connection to him that she'll never have with Az. That sounds depressing to me and will prevent many readers from ever feeling confident that it's not going to become an issue for them at some point. It raises too many questions, how often will Az be jealous because of it? How many fights will they have where Elain needs to reassure him that she's not thinking of Lucien? That she didn't sense him through the bond? What will E/riel do if Az comes across his own mate some day?

#elucien #pro elucien #anti e/riel

30 notes · View notes

lady-of-endless · 1 day

Text

Things you do that make their heart melt

(La Squadra Esecuzioni x reader hcs)

Author's Note: Those are random but that's the point. I tried to be a bit explicit for those who are at the start of Jojo part 5 and maybe don't remember each character's Stand name or ability. I couldn't write this only for my 3 darlings from La Squadra as I started it because I love them all too much. Proud La Squadra stan. Excuse any grammar mistakes. Enjoy!

Risotto Nero

- How you can balance being serious and being affectionate so easily. This is something he admires a lot and wishes to be capable of too sometimes. Yes, he's a serious and stoic man but the whole La Squadra knows just how big his heart is. Sometimes Risotto wishes he could show a bit of affection to the ones dear to him. Risotto is a softie inside but the nature of his occupation forces him to be as reserved and stern as he is now.

- How you can protect yourself. Being a hitman is tough, nothing new under the sun, but being the leader of the team is even worse. It's hard to watch out for others when he also must make sure that everything is working out smoothly. But he cares about you and your safety so damn much it's almost dangerous. So seeing you handle enemies alone helps him fall asleep at night with fewer worries. Also, watching you fight and come up with strategies makes him smile slightly and so subtly that of course, no one can notice it.

- How you look dressed in black with silver accessories. Aesthetically wise, black is one of his favorite colors and no one can tell otherwise. When you decide to match him with a dark outfit, his gaze will follow you more than usual. Be sure of the fact that he'll use his Stand, Metallica, to give you subtle signals, or not so subtle, by pulling onto your belt or necklace.

(it's loving Risotto hours)

Prosciutto

- How you calm yourself down after an intense moment. Prosciutto himself is not proud of when he snaps at people, thinking that it's not graceful behavior so he starts studying you from afar while calming down. He analyzes your soft tone, your calm face but alert eyes after being harsh, to learn from you but he finds himself falling for it. Like his brother, he also craves a bit of softness in his life but will never admit it, not even to himself so seeing you simmer down and transform into someone calm and understanding makes him want your presence more.

- How you counter him when he is too cruel to his brother. He is harsh with Pesci and he knows it, but he thinks it's only for good. It's not about how you're stubborn enough to argue with him but about how it reminds him that if something ever goes wrong with him on a mission, someone else will make sure that his brother is still alright and progressing. Also, as you two are arguing, things get pretty heated in no time and as the distance between you closes in, everyone knows that it's better to leave you two alone.

- How focused you look when deciding on an outfit. That and how you ask him for an opinion. You can see him leaning back in an armchair just looking at you searching through your clothes with an amused but admirative look on his face. Prosciutto likes to make himself look presentable and if you do the same, he can't help but find that fact attractive. Plus he can play dress up with you without you even suspecting it and he can't get enough of it.

(why is he like that? Love him though)

Ghiaccio

- How you let yourself be angry sometimes. To him, almost anyone seems calmer than him, but seeing someone being as furious as him from time to time and that someone being you? That's new. It doesn't happen often and in some odd way, he finds it fascinating. As much as he enjoys teasing you, he'll never be the type to say "Just calm down" or "You're exaggerating" because he knows how much it enrages someone already angry to hear this. He will be very understanding when you're like that. Plus, if someone or something gets you angry, he gets angry too so it will end up with the two of you being a scary couple.

- How your eyes shine when you smile and your smile in general. He is baffled by how when your lips are curved into a smile, your eyes are radiant too. Usually, he uses this expressiveness of yours against you, teasing you about it but when you smile so warmly, he feels like he's looking at the sun and that's unnerving because it makes him blush. He can't understand it.

- How your nose scrunches when you get a brain freeze from consuming something cold. This along with how your cheeks and nose redden when you're cold. He rolls his eyes at himself for like such a shallow and obvious thing but can't help it. It's not how adorable you look it's more how no one notices such details but him. It's his guilty pleasure. He has a kink when it comes to your reactions to cold temperatures.

(ugh I love him so much it's pathetic)

Pesci

- How you encourage him randomly sometimes. Pesci's already having a hard time adjusting to hitman life and constantly being scolded by his brother. At first, when you encourage him, he's stunned, flustered, embarrassed even but in time he starts to feel so much better overall because of it. His stress goes down and he gets more confident and sure of his actions because of your praise.

- How you're kind to the innocent - animals, kids, etc. Since he followed his brother and joined the team, the shock from seeing so much violence in his life all of a sudden left a mark on him. When he notices you being soft to the innocent and helpless while still being a hitman, he starts to heal. His only wish is for you to keep this side of yours so he can keep his too.

- How peaceful you look while sleeping. Again, being in an Italian hitman team is not easy, it distorted any perspective on peacefulness he had before. Seeing you rest without a frown on your face reminds him that there still is peacefulness in this way of living.

Melone

- How you're intelligent enough but don't flaunt it. Sure, he likes good looks but that's not as important as intelligence, any type. Melone is a bit of a sapiosexual, he knows it. If you come up with smart questions during meetings, his attention is immediately on you from that point on until the end of the meeting. Also, if you're genuinely curious about how his stand, Baby Face, works, it only adds to your charm.

- How you pick up on his "di molto" catchphrase. Melone works a lot. I mean A LOT. Besides progenation, he's skilled at finding out hidden info about the target, too. But usually, he does it alone, no one accompanies him and sometimes he can't help but feel slightly ignored. So when you start spending enough time with him to start using his phrases, he starts to feel less alone.

- How you walk. Simple as that. He has been caught many times staring at how some people walk, it's a well-known fact. So if you walk a bit slower and move your hips a bit more intentionally, making it look natural, he's dead. To hell with the mission for a few moments of pure admiration.

Illuso

- How confident you are. You don't need him to hype you up and he won't, but you'll always catch him looking at you with a proud look on his face. However, not everyone can be confident all the time and Illuso knows it very well. When he finds you letting your guard down and looking disappointed with yourself, he'll act right away. He hates seeing you struggle with shallow insecurities as you are just so wonderful in his eyes...

- How you take time to relax. He always insists on you taking everything a bit more slowly, so when you finally do it, he's more than pleased. He likes to see your facial muscles loosen up, causing a relaxed expression. He wishes to see it more often and he wishes for you to prioritise taking care of yourself.

- How you study yourself in the mirror while getting ready. He will use his Stand's ability to enter that mirror's dimension just to look at you from that perspective. This applies to intimate moments as well, just a heads-up. However, his favorite moment to do that is when you're fixing your hair, there's something about it that he finds so damn attractive.

Formaggio

- How you focus on the mission at hand. That, and how serious you look while doing it. Don't get it wrong, he's also focused on the missions but he looks more laid-back, like a natural. He finds it funny and adorable how you look so stern and even suggest him to pay more attention.

- How you always mention Sorbet and Gelato after their death. Everyone knows that Risotto said to forget about it after the funeral to focus on getting back on track as fast as possible and avenging them afterward but to Formaggio, this never felt right. So when you mention a memory from time to time to everyone, his heart feels a little bit lighter.

- How you dance to your favorite songs. He thinks that the majority of members of La Squadra are too stiff and grim sometimes so catching you dancing around alone to your playlist makes him smile. For him, it's like a breath of fresh air. Expect him to join you.

37 notes · View notes

hwanchaesong · 13 hours

Text

Idyllic (Mutual Pining) Preview

pairing: Jake X F!Reader

synopsis: He conceals his presence well and you are a good secret keeper. A combination that ends up in a museum of doubts and hesitance. Then again, a game of hide and seek never hurt anyone, right?

word count: tba

genre & warnings: angst, smut, fluff, warnings tba

a/n: this is a teaser for the upcoming Enhypen: Tropes & Parallels series that i've been working on. i hope y'all look forward to it. please don't hesitate to tell me if you wanted to be added to the taglist. tysm 🩷

You tried to hold your tears back, keen on not showing any signs of weakness, not on a special day like this.

It's your birthday, for fucks sake!

The day you were born, the day you graced the earth with your presence. It's a day where you're supposed to feel like you're the only girl in the world.

So why the fuck are you outside, in the garden of the party hall that your friends went through the trouble of renting? Why the fuck are you sitting on a grass while wearing your prettiest dress, weeping like a child?

"Y/N? Why did you leave the party?"

Ah, there's the reason.

Sim fucking Jaeyun, better known as Jake.

"No reason," you tried to stabilize your voice, key word: tried, "just needed some fresh air."

Jake squinted his eyes at your slumped figure, he'd be lying if he says that he believes that pathetic excuse of a lie that you told him. He'd be kidding himself if he says that he wasn't able to read your body language, clearly, something is bothering you.

"Tell me." he declares, walking closer to you and that turned on a switch in you, panicking on what you should say because he can't see you like this.

He's not supposed to see you in such a sorry state, sporting Rudolf's red nose when it's months away from Christmas. Fat, ugly tears pooling in your eyes and your mascara must be ruined by now. He's not supposed to see you being this down bad for him, to the point that you're willing to bawl your eyes out in a place like this.

"Don't come near me! Please, leave me alone." you accidentally yelled at him, wrapping your arms around yourself and totally losing it. You hid your face on your arms, sobbing quietly, not having it in you to continue bearing the pain of having the love of your life be the loss of your life in one night.

It was your fault. Everything was your fault.

You didn't confess to him when you had the chance. You let him meet new girls, you supported him when he said that he wanted to talk with the girl that was recently transferred in your class.

It was your fault for being a mess, for being a coward. It was your fault for settling in the title of being friends.

The times when you shared secret glances across the room, the touches that were far too long to be considered platonic but never really given the meaning that they deserve, the sweet nothings that you whisper to each other after a long, tiring day.

You were the culprit behind the heist, so really, you shouldn't act like the victim. It's unfair for him.

You deserve this, to be left alone, wallowing in self-pity and cursing yourself repeatedly until you couldn't breathe anymore.

As your castle crumbled, you felt warm arms around you, the familiar figure dropping to his knees, pulling you onto his sturdy body, fingers soothing through your tangled strands.

"Jake?" you whispered his name, hoping that it was him. Wishing that he didn't really leave you, that it's him holding you, comforting you through this situation that you've put yourself in.

He hummed, his answer making your heart explode into the most colorful shades of fireworks.

"I'll be the biggest asshole if I leave the girl I have prayed for all my life here, crying during the day that she was given to me by the gods."

taglist

@lilyuwon @ramenoil

27 notes · View notes

aloesarchives · 2 days

Text

Head empty with no thoughts other than thinking about in my “Toji Lives” AU, Reader/you has only imagined a life with Toji and ONLY Toji. It’s to a point that you never seen a future without him or have one with anyone else that wasn’t him. Because if not, your life wouldn’t be like what it is now…which meant you wouldn’t have Megumi nor Tsumiki if you haven’t met Toji.

Anyway, someone randomly mentions how there’s a possibility that in an alternate universe/timeline you and Toji wouldn’t be in love, married, and have a family. Stabbing the knife in your heart even further by mentioning Toji might have another family with another woman with Megumi as their only child. Furthermore, not only isn’t Toji not your husband in another universe/time but he would have another life without you in it.

The thought of in another reality Toji isn’t with you, has another family which also means Megumi and Tsumiki are not your children…Fuck, it hurts you so much to think about such a concept.

What makes it worse is that reality IS POSSIBLE and CAN HAPPEN(referring to the canon timeline).

So now, you’ve become high-key depressed and heartbroken because you are now overthinking about the idea your little family isn’t yours. The more you imagine that prospect, the more your overthinking thoughts make your heart throb with pain as an icy chill washes over you. Numbing you to your current reality that THEY are your FAMILY in this universe/timeline. But your head was too focused and wrapped up that it’s slowly kills your happiness.

Literally everybody is worried about you because this is the most devastated they’ve seen you at all. Satoru and Suguru hunted down the idiot who thought it was a good idea to even say something or gave that idea to you. Everyone else is trying to cheer you up but you brush it and tell them not to worry, which makes them even more worried about you.

Tsumiki and Megumi were the most concerned because that’s their mama who’s so heartbroken and it hurts them to see you so down in the dumps like that. And knowing their mama, the only other person that could get to you that either of them is their one and only papa, Toji. So the kiddos tell Toji your heartbroken state and how worried they are even after trying to make you feel better.

Toji is literally the last resort hope. He goes and finds you, having a pre-occupied stare and looking extremely out of it. He doesn’t want to startle you so he comes up behind you with a gruff but soft “Hey Doll”. Placing his hands on your shoulder and back so you can face him. Rubbing them in a comforting manner.

“Hey, heard you weren’t feeling yourself today? You think you could tell me what’s got you so down?”

You don’t say anything, but the way your eyes start to water and your bottom lip trembling gave it away. Toji would have gently coaxed you on so he can understand what’s got you like this. Then suddenly, you wrapped your arms around Toji’s neck, pulling him into a tight hug. The man doesn’t questioned it and holds you tightly, knowing you need it because he can tell you weren’t ready to tell what’s wrong yet. For some time, Toji lets you hold him tightly because he knows it brings you comfort and eases your stress.

“Anata…Do you think in another life…We would still be together…?”

The way your voice tetered of uncertainty and softness, and that nickname used you for him… Now he has a general idea of what made you so heartbroken because “Anata” is a nickname only reserved for Toji when it’s only you and him alone and either both of you are vulnerable.

“I don’t know for certain, Hon. I’d hope so everytime…But I do know is in this lifetime, I will always find you and love ya to the end of my days. An’ remember, Tsumiki and Megumi are here with us too. Your family is here with you, (Y/N). We love you, don’t forget that, please…”

And that was enough to break the spell that held your mind captive. You ease up, calming down, pulling away slightly from your dear, loving, handsome husband. Looking at him so fondly and with much love.

Toji SMILES back at you, cupping your face gently with his callous hand. Using his thumb to softly wipe away the stray tear that fell from your pretty eyes. Leaning into his hand, holding it with both your own. You relish in Toji’s strong but gentle hold, his warmth always brought you great solace in ways no one else can.

Everyone sighs in relief, knowing you’re in a better mood and returning back to your regular self. Especially Megumi and Tsumiki, there’s something about seeing you genuinely smile and looking at their dad with such tenderness they know is only reserved for Toji and him alone that makes them smile to themselves and sigh in relief. The two of them walk up to you and Toji to which you opened your arms out to your children. Tsumiki and Megumi will never deny a hug from you so they go in and you hugged them both tightly against you, kissing their foreheads while saying loving affirmations to your children.

Toji smiles at his family before joining in on the hug, wrapping his huge muscular strong arms around you three. Basking in your husband and kids warmth, you didn’t know why you hyper-focused on the ‘what ifs’ of possible realities when this one you were living in, with your husband and kids, is YOUR current reality. So why fuss over the others when you have this one which is the one you wanted.

If there’s a possibility for them to not be your family in other realities, wouldn’t that mean there are possibilities where they’ll be your family too in other realities/timelines/universes too?

Bonus: Toji asks Satoru and Suguru if he can join them in ganging up on the person who did this to you. Man wasn’t letting anything slide if you were put into a distressed and/or heartbroken state.

——————————————————————————

Tags w/ links:

@luqueam @ploylulla @tqd4455 @wolywolymoley @captainbabybear @ravenswife

Tags w/o links:

@szillx @SleppyAnn @g0th1xac1d @kneelarhmstrung

——————————————————————————

I literally wrote this on my phone late at night because it was keeping me wide awake lol. Sorry for the sloppy rushed formatting!

#x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro tsumiki #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #dad!toji x reader #wife!reader #mama!reader #jjk fluff #jjk toji #Toji Lives AU #fem reader #dad!toji #x fem!reader

45 notes · View notes

coldfanbou · 3 hours

Text

Made For One

Alrighty, here we are with the fem reader peace. I went rough with this one. There is slight choking, mommy kink, a little BDSM, and a small bit of exhibitionism. Also, it's set up to where I could always do another part, you know, if there's enough interest.

Length 2.1K

Fem Reader x GP Hwasa

As you were walking down the hallway, preparing for your next class, you were approached by your classmate, Karina. She flirted with you a little, touching your shoulders as she asked if you could study together sometime. You think about your schedule quickly before telling her when you’re available. “So Sunday? You could spend the night over at my house,” she suggested.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you tell her before you head off to class together. It was hidden at the end of the hallway by itself. You couldn’t find it to save your life on the first day of class, but you now have a handle on it. Outside the classroom was your professor, Hwasa, with an annoyed expression. She wore her usual outfit: a tight white button-down shirt and a short gray skirt. Hwasa’s muscular thighs were visible to everyone. “Hello, professor,” you greet her.

She places her arm on your shoulder, “I need to talk to you for a second after class.” You nod your head, gulping as you sit in the back of the class. You worry about what Hwasa wanted the entire time before you even knew it; the class was over, and you were left alone with her. Hwasa locks the door to her classroom before walking toward you. Your eyes move upward, catching Hwasa as she walks over to you, unbuttoning most of her shirt, her tan bra poking out. “Who was that you were talking to?” She asks, already knowing the answer. Hwasa sits on your desk, eyes cast down at you.

“S-she just wanted to study together.”

Hwasa places her hand on your shoulder before moving it up, her fingers running along your neck before she forces your head up. “Don’t lie to me. I saw what she was doing. You had a big grin on your face, too.”

“I’m sorry.” You reply meekly.

“I think you’re missing a part,” Hwasa replies as her grip strengthens.

“I’m sorry, Mommy.”

Hwasa grins, and she lets go of you, “That’s a good girl, but I still have to punish you. I’ll be nice and give you the option, here or home?”

“H-here.” You knew your answer didn’t matter. Hwasa was going to take you whenever she wanted. You knew the punishment was going to be rough and leave you bedridden for a while; you also knew who you became during Hwasa’s punishments. Your eyes move down, stopping as they see the bulge pressing against Hwasa’s skirt.

“Mommy’s going to teach you a lesson,” Hwasa whispers into your ear before hopping off your desk. Come over here,” she says as she walks to her desk. She waits patiently, tapping her nails along the wooden desk. You walk over to her and feel her hand move to the small of your back. “Get on the desk, now.” You follow her orders, sitting on the table. “Lay down on your back.” Again, you do as Hwasa says, lying down on her desk. She moves you up, pulling you until your head is off the edge of the desk. You watch her unzip her skirt; her panties do little to hide her cock. It was long and girthy, pointing straight to Hwasa’s stomach until she dropped them, too. “You know what’s coming, right baby?” You nod your head slowly. Hwasa drags the tip of her cock against your lips, tracing them. You stick your tongue out slightly, knowing what Hwasa likes. You hear her groan as she feels your wet tongue touch the tip of her cock.

Hwasa pushes the head into your mouth slowly; your lips stretch as she pushes her shaft in. “That’s it, take this cock down your throat, whore.” With that, she rams the rest of her cock down your throat. You feel her cock stretch it, and her balls smack against your face. Hwasa stares at your throat, watching it expand as she begins thrusting. Saliva drips from the corner of your mouth, flowing down your face as Hwasa uses your throat like a fleshlight. You feel yourself getting wet, your panties quickly becoming soaked as you give into your mommy’s demands. You don’t even react as Hwasa tears open your shirt and rips your bra off. You curl your toes as you feel Hwasa slap one of your tits. “Dirty bitch. I bet you were hoping to get some dick from someone else.” Your moans are muffled, leaving you unable to respond. You catch glimpses of Hwasa taking off her shirt and tossing her bra onto the ground, shaking her head to adjust her hair as she continues to use you. You feel the pain from another one of her slaps before she grabs both of your nipples, pulling on them harshly and making you scream out from the pleasure. You end up gargling your saliva, your throat still blacked by Hwasa’s cock.

She lets go of your nipples before dragging her cock out of your throat, making sure to rub it against your face and cover you in your spit. You couldn’t help yourself. You reached for your right tit with one hand while running your fingers along your slit with the other. You feel Hwasa’s hand connect with your cheek a moment later. “Who told you can touch yourself?!” She yells at you, and you feel the sting from the hit, but it all blends together with the pleasure.

“I’m sorry, Mommy. I’ll be a good girl from now on,” you tell her. Hwasa gives you an annoyed look before spitting on your tits. She climbs the table, sitting just under your head as she places her cock between your tits, pressing them together before beginning to thrust. You feel the heat from her cock as she moves between your tits. You run your hands along her thighs, only for her to chastise you.

“Oh, you want to touch me?” Hwasa adjusts her position, fully sitting on you before grinding her ass against you. “If you want me so bad, here you go. Why don’t you be a good girl and eat me? Maybe I’ll go easy on you later.” Without a second thought, you tease Hwasa’s ass with your tongue, moving it around her puckered asshole. You can hear her groan, and it pushes you to do more. You greedily squeeze at Hwasa’s ass as your tongue pushes inside her. She rocks back and forth and applies more pressure. You struggle to breathe but continue to please your mommy. Hwasa rewards you by twisting your nipples, making you moan as you eat her up. “You’re a hungry little bitch aren’t you?” She says with mild amusement. You were running out of breath and trying to tell Hwasa. Still, she remained sitting on you; just as you were about to pass out, she climbed off you, stroking her cock and painting your barely conscious face with her cum. “There, you have something else to eat.” She says before walking to the side of the table, stroking her cock as she thought about what to do next.

Hwasa gave herself more time to think by stripping you of your skirt, leaving you in your panties for a second. She slapped you pussy, with a hard smack that nearly made you cum. “You’re such a dirty whore, getting off on this. I bet you want to cum, don’t you?”

You nod quickly. “I want to cum, mommy.”

“Okay, mommy will let you cum.” Hwasa says as she climbs onto the table, grabbing your legs and folding you into a mating press. Using her weight to keep you in place, she reaches for you, wrapping one hand around your neck. “I don’t want you talking to anyone else. You are mommy’s fleshlight. You’re going to do whatever I say. If I tell you to strip in the middle of class so I can fuck you, you will do it. Understand?” Hwasa moves your panties to the side and drags her cock between your lips, making you whimper. “I said, do you understand?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Then what are you?”

“I’m Mommy’s fleshlight.”

Hwasa lets go of your throat and caresses your cheek, a soft smile forming. “That’s a good girl. That’s all I wanted to hear.” Hwasa points the tip of her cock right at your entrance and impales you with her first thrust; you feel her cock tear through you as she stretches your tiny cunt and splits your walls apart. “You’re you tight for mommy. Tell mommy how much you want her to fuck you.”

“I want your cock, mommy. Please fuck me,” You tell her in a small voice. Hwasa smiled as she began to move inside you. Her cock moved in and out slowly at first before it started to pick up speed. It was deep inside you, practically kissing your womb as she pushed every inch inside you. Your moans filled the classroom as Hwasa leaned in and nipped at your neck, leaving hickeys all along it.

“If I ever see you with anyone else, I’ll teach you a much rougher lesson.” She whispers before nibbling on your ear. You’re overwhelmed by all the sensations and feel yourself about to cum. Hwasa feels it, too; your walls were clamping down on her cock. You could feel its veins and the way it began to throb.

“Mommy, I want your cum. Please give it to me.” You whine as you grip her arms. Hwasa grunts as she continues to pound away at your body. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge until you weren’t able to hold it together anymore. You cum on Hwasa’s cock, forcing her to climax a moment later. Your mind melts as you feel Hwasa’s warm cum pours into you, painting your walls white as she claims your body.

Hwasa pulls out slowly, her cock covered in a mixture of cum and your nectar. She climbs off the table and gets by your face, smacking it with her dirtied cock. “Come on, baby, clean it up.” She says, placing her hands on her hips as you open your mouth and use your tongue to clean her cock. You taste yourself on it. It arouses you, and you begin to touch yourself, your fingers playing with your clit as you massage one of your tits. You can feel Hwasa’s cum flow from your cunt, making a small puddle as you masturbate.

As you were finishing, Hwasa dragged her cock out slowly, rubbing it on your face. “We’re done here, sweetie. You can go.” Hwasa says cooly as she gathers her clothes and dresses herself. You remain on the table, masturbating until you cum again, coating the desk in a layer of your nectar. “Clean everything up before you go,” Hwasa says as she leaves you alone in the room.

Hwasa told you to arrive early in the morning the next time you had class. When you got to the classroom, Karina, who had flirted with you the other day, was standing outside. The door to the room opened, and Hwasa said, “You’re both here. Great. Come inside.” The two of you stepped inside, and Hwasa told the girl to sit down as she locked the door behind you. As you passed Hwasa, she wrapped her arm around you and whispered. “Strip for mommy.”

“But”

“Now.” Karina watched as you stripped down to nothing. This was Hwasa showing her just who you belonged to. She got behind you and continued the show, “Suck me off.” You kneel before Hwasa as she pulls out her cock, stuffing it into your mouth. You glance over at Karina, noticing a slight bulge under her skirt before Hwasa pushes you to her pelvis. Hwasa poured her cum into your stomach before pulling out. You open your mouth to show her you drank it all, earning a smile. “Good girl,” Hwasa says as she helps you to your feet. Hwasa sits at her desk, facing Karina as she plants you on her cock. “Karina, this one is all mine. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Mommy.” You moan as you bounce on her cock. Having Karina watch you turned you on, she could see everything, from your bouncing tits to your bare cunt. She was stunned.

“Oh? It looks like you're hard, too. You can jerk off if you want to.” Hwasa says, licking your neck as you near your climax. As Karina pulls out her feeble cock Hwasa humiliates her. “That’s all you have? You couldn’t please her if you tried.” Karina jerked herself off quickly, cumming over herself in a matter of seconds. You came a moment later, your walls tightening around Hwasa’s cock as she dumped her cum in you. “I think this could be fun,” Hwasa whispers. “I think I’ll make you both mine.” She whispers into your ear.

#kpop smut #f reader #fem reader #mamamoo smut #hwasa smut

20 notes · View notes

twigg96 · 2 days

Note

Hi! Can you do daryl dixon x y/n where Daryl gets protective over y/n when a creepy guy won’t leave her alone no matter what she says so he punches him across the face, ending in like comforting fluff/ smut or both ❤️

Hello @dustbunniess!! This sounds like a great idea! I'm so so sorry it took me so long to get this out to you love so much has happened since you asked for this I'm just trying to get by.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader

Era: Post-Prison, Pre-Terminus Era (Claimers Era)

Pronouns: You/Your, She/Her (No use of Y/N)

Warnings: The Claimers, Daryl with the Claimers, Attempted Sexual Assault, Crass behavior and language, Swearing, Physical Violence, Assault, Blood, Panic Attacks, Confusion, Delusion, Daryl becoming a literal savage, Abuse, Death, Beatings, Daryl reliving past traumas, Doing what you have to survive, Things happen off screen,

Summery: After the prison fell you were left alone in a world you felt was unfair and cruel. And who could blame you? Truly after all you'd been through? You changed from the person you were in the prison. But then... so did everyone else... When Daryl your boyfriend is the first to find you out in the world you see just how much things have changed with the new group he's in.

Separate Ways

It was when the prison went up in flames that you knew it was over. There was no going back. No redemption. The governor… in some sick twist of fate. Had won. Although your family had taken his life, and the lives of all his followers. You were all left to suffer, and after such a horrendous outbreak that you all had thought you defeated too… The difference was. This time you were completely on your own. No friendly face to turn to. No guiding hand to help you. Just you and the corpse you stabbed in the skull.

You had followed the screams out. So sure you were following Rick and Carl… but so soon you realized you were completely and utterly wrong. Trudging through the woods towards the highway you knew was your Emergency escape route you cursed your lack of preparation. No water, no food. You knew you had to act fast. Find shelter before the sun completely set for the night, find food before you starved... trudging through the thick forest you quickly found a path to follow. It had paid off to have followed your boyfriend on so many hunting expeditions and to help him on runs.

Coming to a stop you stilled your breath slowly scanning the wooded area around you. Nothing but trees and leaves surrounded you even though you had thought you heard the soft crackle of leaves, the snapping of a twig behind you. It wasn't loud and obnoxious. Something you've come to expect of walkers by now. Nor was it natural and fluid like the wildlife you had so greatly come to miss. It felt human. Large and concise. Hunting. Shivers ran down your spine. Bobbing and weaving through the tree line you darted back out onto the road that you had left in favor of the camouflage of the forest. Pulling your rifle you aimed blindly. Footsteps coming nearer. Louder. Like a bear charging it even growled. Placing your finger on the trigger you stepped back. "Stop!" You yelled.

A boy scrawny and pale came tumbling out of the brush. No older than Carl he looked up to you, his eyes wide and fearful he shivered in fear. Plastered in mud and blood you stared him down panting as the adrenaline left you both. Slowly he raised his hands high, shaking like a leaf he shook his head. "I-I'm so sorry." He whispered. One of the governor's, you realized. "I-It's my sister. She's hurt real bad... please..."

Glaring daggers at the teen you hissed through your teeth, stepping forward your weapon still raised and pointed directly between his eyes. "And why should I help you?" You growled. "She's all I got left." He whispered a tear running down his cheek. Hmm... at one time in life you would have felt pity. You would have run to his aid in a heartbeat. Now... Now however you scoffed at him. "Shoulda thought about that before you got yerself blown ta hell and back." You hiss lowering your gun. With wide eyes the boy watches in disbelief as you sling your pack off your back and rummage through it. "Y-you're just going to let her die?!" He screamed. "Pretty much sounds like you are kid." You growl, pulling out the last of your protein bars before slinging your bag back over your shoulder. "Standing there ain't doin' her no favors so I'd hop to it if I were you." You muttered taking a bite of your bar and walking down the road a stretch. Stomping on the ground like a toddler who didn't get his way the kid whined. "No I'm asking you for help!" He yelled. You wanted to turn and glare. You wanted to yell and scream. Hell you wanted to shoot him. But the growling and the thick rustling of leaves alerted you to the oncoming horde early. In his rage he must not had heard. Until they were right on top of him. You wondered briefly if his sister was among them.

Alone again you let the road take you where it will. across a bridge and through a town that was overrun with walkers. It was there you adopted a few walkers to help you navigate the thick hordes in the streets. Releasing them into the next life once you made it to the next side of town you sighed the tire marks in town leading to a hospital you'd rather not go near. So instead a set of train tracks that you crossed became your path. Instinctively you listened for trains. Your boots worn with wear stuck in the wood and on the nails. It was there you saw the first sign. "Go to Terminus." Your heart swelled. You didn't know where they were. How close they were. But you had to hope. Maybe. Possibly. They were safe.

Resting against a garage for the night you closed your eyes for what felt like a mere second. It most certainly wasn't hours... or so you had thought. Leaves and twigs had become your best friend in this world. The early indicator of something to come. But this time it was more. Loud. Uncaring if it was heard. Jumping awake you reached for your gun by your side but before you could grab it a large boot kicked it away. The large man standing before you sneered at you. "So she's awake." He laughed as you pressed yourself as far into the metal wall as possible. Three more men stepped out of the woods around you both. The laughed and jeered at you kicking at your feet as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. "Bet she's good." One said. Another had the sheer audacity to grab a handful of your hair and sniff it. As you went to slap him another grabbed your hand the leader with the grey hair chuckled.

"Claimed."

Two voices chimed out at the exact same time. The leader's sleazy voice and another more familiar voice that made your chest hurt with expectancy. You had waited. Hoped. Dreamed. Hell you even dared to pray for the day to come again where you'd hear your love's sweet voice again. But not here. Not now. Not looking down the barrel of weapons pointed against you.

The leader turned. Glaring at the man who dared to oppose him. Stepping into the light of the moon Daryl looked... different. Changed. His eyes were distant and dark even in the night. "Daryl..." The leader hummed his scowl melting as he turned to the archer. Tutting slightly he shook his head snapping his fingers the other men moved in on you. Two men grabbed your upper arms, hauling you to your feet while the others grabbed your shit. "C'mon now..." He growled. Giving your boyfriend a look. "Ya know better by now than to try and just claim whatever ya want... specially if ya know I'm gonna claim it." He cooed circling Daryl menacingly.

You had expected Daryl to act. The Daryl you knew would have. He would never have stood there and took the shit these creeps were giving either of you... but this Daryl... this one you knew in passing but never truly met before... he bowed his head. He turned away. He simply murmured something low. Soft. Something you couldn't hear.

The leader nodded eyeing you. His expression morphing. From wolfish and greedy to concentrated and scanning. "A'ight..." He sighed running his hand through his hair. "You gonna let us teach him a lesson?!" One of the men currently bruising your arm screamed. The others rallied behind him. Cheering and jeering they whooped and hollered. The men holding you jerked you back and forth making you stumble back and forth between the two. There was silence and for a moment contemplation on the leader's face that made your heart race. "Search her... Daryl and I got business to discuss." He growled turning around he spun your boyfriend with him grabbing him by the shoulder and dragging him into the woods.

They dumped the contents of your bag onto the ground. Screams of "Claimed" ripped through the air and you were certain you'd be overrun by a horde any moment. Ripped apart limb from limb by the dead you had survived for years because of a few fucking morons. When all of your supplies including the bag itself and your rifle and ammo were claimed... the men turned their eyes on you.

"Can't touch 'em til Boss gets back." One chimed in as a particularly greedy one stepped forward. "Yeah... but she got pockets don't she?." The man hummed placing his hands on your waist. The others whistled and hollered once more as you backed away as far as the other two would let you.

"Don't you fucking touch me!" You hissed, baring your teeth to the bastard. Nodding he chuckled following you he grabbed you once more this time burying his hands deep in your pockets, attempting to cop a feel. Rearing your head back you growled and head butted the man landing a blow directly onto his nose. The satisfying crunch it left and the blood that trickled down between your brows onto your cheeks like war paint was proof enough. "I told ya not ta fuckin' touch me!" You screamed.

"Hey!" You heard the leader scream from inside the barrier of the forest. Immerging from the shadows of the trees the leader stormed up to the group with Daryl following behind like a kicked puppy. The one you hit writhed on the ground holding his face he whine and whimpered as the others parted like the sea for the leader who grabbed you by the jaw getting close enough to smell the rancid canned food on his breath. "You really got some fuckin' nerve." He bit out. It took everything in you not to spit in is filthy fucking face.

Standing back up straight the man huffed glaring down at you a glint in his eye you didn't like. "Now boys... as you know Daryl and I both called dibs at the same time..." All eyes on you. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat ready to fight to your last breath. "Now Daryl has made me aware of something very important here... a rule. See he did... in fact... call dibs first. He called dibs Long LONG before he met us. This here... This is his wife."

Wife? You blinked but tried not to look too surprised. Daryl was locking eyes with you. A quiet desperation there only you could see. Keep the act up. Stay strong. You glanced between Daryl and the leader. You felt the man holding your right arm tighten his grip adding another fresh bruise to your bicep. "Bull shit." He growled, his hands slid down your arm to your wrist twisting it back and up painfully so that you yelped out in pain and doubled over. "I don't see a fuckin' ring on her finger!" He yelled.

You heard footsteps. Not one set but two approaching you. "He's right... no ring..." The leader spoke directly above you. His boots shufled to turn towards Daryl's. "But..." He spoke again his boots shifting again as you felt a new calloused hand take your left hand, the promise ring you bore sliding off your ring finger made you feel naked and cold. "You were looking at the wrong hand..." The leader said his voice low and cold. The man holding your right arm released his grip stumbling back. Sitting back up you twisted out of the other man's hands for a second before he took your wrist lightly.

The leader held your promise ring up examining it. Your initials were carved into the inside of the ring. Something Daryl had done himself with his knife back at the prison when he found a set having stolen the idea from Glenn of course. "Teach him a lesson boys." The man grunted out gesturing with his head to the man who shook his head and begged for his life. You stood stock still as the others circled him like sharks to the drops of blood that fell from his face. Even Daryl who's eyes went as dark as the night nodded to the command, picking up something from the ground.

Your vison blurred, all you could see was Daryl's back. Blood splattering. You heard the screaming. Jumping at the hand on your shoulder you looked to the man turning you away from it all. "I haven't properly introduced myself yet." He murmured watching you swipe pink tears from your cheeks. "I'm Joe. I'm the leader of this here group. The Claimers. We don't normally keep women long... They get passed around a bit and then... well we get bored and they end up roaming as one of the other biters." He chuckled eyeing you up. Hyperventalating you shook your head pulling away slightly when you felt his arm wrap around your waist. "Now now," He whispered in your ear. "You're a valued honorary memeber." He cooed but his expression became cold and dark. "That means... you work for what you keep. You start with shit. And half yer shit goes to Daryl. Like in any good marriage." He said menacingly, grabbing your wrist. "Oh and one last thing... I get to taste you one time... just part of the deal Daryl and I worked out to let you live."

Cut between confusion and pain you wondered if all the promises Daryl ever made to keep everyone safe were in vain. Who was he? Was he really the man you met back at the Quarry and fell in love with? No... Probably not... He was different. Changed. Evolved into something different. Looking over your finger as Joe slipped your ring back on your finger you felt sick to your stomach. This Daryl, dripping in another man's blood was animalistic. He was brutal and cold.

That night Joe told everyone to just bunk down in the garage. Safer. He said. You tried to clear your head of the mess of a human corpse outside the metallic walls. Following close behind the others you followed Daryl like a lost puppy. "Claimed" Echoed through the building as all the "good" spots were being taken. But Daryl just stood. He waited out in the open and waited with you by his side. Never once looking at you or acknowledging your existence. "Dar-" You tried to speak but was only ignored as he turned away once everyone went quiet. "Claimed." He yelled out when he found the most secluded spot in the garage behind a tarped tactor.

Pointing to the ground he looked around for a moment, waiting for your to sit on the ground. "Dar-" Shaking his head he knelt pulling a blanket from his bag he tossed it over you. "Here." He muttered. Not looking at you. Never looking at you. He stood and walked back out of the garage.

Even with the wool blanket you felt alone and cold. Even more so than when you were actually traveling alone. You hated it. This feeling of abandonment. Blinking back tears your glared at the ceiling wrapping yourself tight in your blanket you tried to fall asleep.

Hours passed. You hadn't slept. How could you with the men snoring like chainsaws all night. But the door opening and closing quietly didn't go unnoticed. Rolling over you turned to Daryl as he approached you slowly. Kicking his boots by your feet he laid down beside you. Lifting the blanket you welcomed him into the warm environment you created with time. You fully expected him to turn you away. To roll away and huff. But instead he scooted close. pulling the blanket over you both.

His arms were around you in a second. Finding tender blossoming bruises he burried his face in your neck. The wetness of his cheeks stained your dirty shirt. "Thought I lost you." He whispered. "Wasn't gonna let anyone take you... Not..." He went silent pulling you as tight as ever. Happiness and warmth swelled in you. Love and security. Wrapping your arms around his neck you kissed the top of his head, running your fingers through his wet hair.

Truth be told he still smelled like a wet dog. Musty and damp. But he washed off. Didn't stop you from feeling angry and betrayed. "Daryl... Why did you tell Joe..." You swallowed the doubt that still reigned suprieme and rampaged like a tornado in your mind. "Why did you tell him he could... have me?" There was a moment Daryl was silent. You thought he would lie. He would divert the situation. But instead he pushed himself up on his elbows and cocked a brow. "Never said that." He whispered. "Did that prick say that to ya? Say ya owed him somethin? "He whispered his eyes scanning you worriedly. You nodded slowly watching his reaction. Nodding Daryl hummed. "Ok."

Blinking you tried to read his face in the dark. "O-Ok?" You whispered. Nodding he lowered himself down to your ear. "Can't say out loud what I want to do ta the bastard. Someone could hear." He breathed. "Oh..." You tensed. You eyes instinctively scanning for threats but the dark felt claustrophobic and you wanted to simply run.

You were kicked awake early the next morning. You hadn't even realized you had fallen asleep. Another night of closing your eyes and suddenly jerking awake to danger feeling entirely unrested... Nothing new but you could never get used to it either. "Up an 'em, sweetheart." The man with greasy hair murmured. In the morning light you could see the shiner that was swelling half the man's face. A large cut ran down his forehead to his cheek that in the old world would have required stitches to keep it from scaring but now would just prove as a lesson to the man to listen better in Joe's twisted system. "Waistin' daylight..." He growled once more glaring at your boy- No. Your husband.

Daryl seemed to respond in kind. Huffing at the man he stood with a low painful groan. "Let's go." He murmured softly offering a hand to you.

You followed on Daryl's heels throughout the day like a duckling to their mother. Keeping your eyes on the wings on his back, you tried to stay strong and keep from physically acting on the men who treated you more like an object than a human. "Why you carryin' yer own bag when you got a bitch ta do it fer ya?" The rotund one called, chuckling as you moved to Daryl's left away from him. "No on would blame ya if ya went off and unwound on her for a bit... hell I'd even let the boys have a turn when I was done." One of the men with a beanie called out smirking at you from across the crick you had all stopped at to refill your canteens in. Holding your middle you glared at him. Daryl stood handing you your canteen. Reaching out you caressed his arm to sooth him. You were safe if he was here. He couldn't be if he was hurt or dead. He needed to act rashly.

"Shut up." He hissed despite it all. The Dixon temper was never one that could easily be quelled. When pushed down it only became more explosive. More dangerous. "What did you fucking say to us?" The three men rounded you. "We're just tryin' ta be friendly like." The greasy haired man that woke you growled. "Don't need no friends." Daryl growled stepping up to him. "Daryl." You whispered, reaching out to touch him but decided against it when you saw the crazed look in your husband's eye.

"Enough."

Joe's commanding voice ripped the fight apart before it could start. "Len, go fetch some firewood and scout the area. Got a feeling we could get lucky 'round here. Tony, go sharpen that damned blade of yours it couldn't cut butter if we had any for fuck's sake let alone take a biter down if we needed. Dan, fuck off with Len. Set up a perimiter. Daryl. Go hunting for dinner." Joe gave out orders like it was nothing. But your heart pounded in your chest and and nearly leaped into your throat when he met your throat reaching into his bag to grab something. You watched Daryl closely. Every muscle tense and primed to act in case Joe acted pulling something. His hand snaking to the pistol he had hidden at his back.

"Honey, I need ya ta wash our shit. Our clothes, specially our socks and boxers are really starting to get ripe and chafe us. I think you could handle that much... huh?" He purred walking up to you handing a small bundle of used men's socks and boxers. The smell was horrendous and made bile rise to your throat. You had to force yourself to breath the same way you would in a hot summer day around a horde of walkers to get by. "Ok..." You whimpered nodding. Freezing when you felt his hand on your shoulder you stood stock still. "And, sweetheart..." He hummed, his grip becoming incredibly painful his soft expression turning hard. "It's sir to you... Yes, sir. Say it." Whimpering you tried not to give into him. You didn't fall to your knees or bow as he desperately wanted you to. Instead you turned to glare at him your hair swirling around your, a single tear as his only satisfaction. "Sir, yes, sir." You growl stumbling as he pushed you forward into the water.

Hours passed by. Joe gave you meaningless task after meaningless task. Anything to see you in a compromising position. Scrub his boots. Wash his hair. Wash your hair. Sort their bags. Weave a basket. (Something you didn't know how to do and utterly failed in doing.) When he ran out of tasks to give you he made things up. Jump in place in front of him. He tried to make you bathe in the crick but when you threatened to cut his balls off he laughed and said it was a joke.

"Hey..." Len's voice cut through your newest meaningless task. picking up acorns while Joe watched. Looking over your shoulder you cocked a brow at the man that seemed far too excited to have just been told to fuck off for a few hours. "We found something." Dan muttered. Walking out of the woods with a string of rabbits Daryl glared hard at the ground. You'd seen him through the treeline throughout the course of the day. Taking aim at Joe at certain angles when he was certain the older man wasn't looking. But Joe always laughed or shook his head. "I know your watching Daryl. Go back to hunting." Or a promise of "I won't touch if you don't shoot."

"We found a camp!" Len cheered, pulling you from your thoughts. "A camp?" You breathed without thought. "Hell yeah girl." Joe murmured misreading your concern for excitment and curiousity. Or rather ignoring it completely as he slapped you hard on the back making you drop the acorns you gathered. "Come on let's show our newbie how it's done..." Joe said smiling so much like the devil that when you actually met him years later you'd never believe it.

The camp was small. It only housed two people. A man and a woman. The woman gathered baby supplies on a pink baby blanket before her. Brunette hair caught the wind just so that her face was concealed an you never truly saw her face. The man was undoubtedly in love with the woman. From the distance you hid you swore the couple were Glenn and Maggie. Your heart pounded deep in your chest. Your breath caught in your throat and you had to stop the scream that threatened to rip through you.

"We flank from all sides." Joe whispered so low you could barely hear him over the ringing of your ears. "Daryl." He whispered, moving closer to the two of you as the others moved into position. "I want to actually see you in there this time. No late arrivals." He hummed nodding as Daryl grunted in response.

"C'mon." No.

"Darlin'... We need ta move." Daryl whispered. No, God please no.

Your entire body shook, your eyes wide as saucer plates. Moving forward in the brush you only stopped when you felt Daryl's hand on yours. Turning to Daryl fear in your eyes you shook your head. Not again.

Pulling you away into the denser brush as Joe began his speech to the couple you could just barely see the others moving in.

Your body jerked when the screams started. Pulling at Daryl's hand you sobbed hard. "Daryl!" You wailed only to be pulled back his hand covering your mouth so your sobs were muffled. "It ain't them." He whispered. Pulling you incredibly tight you felt him bury his face in the crook of your neck hot tears rolling down your collar bone mixing with your own. "It can't be them."

That night you all slept under the stars. Fire lit and as warm as you could be in the middle of fall you and Daryl were of the first to retire, finding a spot in the dirt to bed down you laid against a large tree your back pulled against him. Just like when you two started dating out on the road. His wool blanket provided enough warmth to the both of you that the ground didn't bother you. Even with the rocks and roots digging into your side.

Just as you started to nod off you jerked awake to the sound of sets of heavy drunken footsteps. Daryl's arm wrapped tight around your middle. pulling you close. The others had found liquor at the camp and indulged heavily in it. Only Daryl and Joe refused to touch it.

"Claimed!" One man screamed loud. Belligerent. The smell of booze stained the air and made your empty stomach turn. "Nuh-uh." Another hissed. "I already claimed that spot." Len... Daryl had told you to watch out for him. He had an issue with claiming what wasn't his. he'd claimed what little food Daryl could get out hunting while on patrol.

"Bull shit!" The other man, you assumed to be Ivan screamed back. "It's true!" You tried to tune them out, squeezing your eyes shut breathing slowly, hoping you and Daryl went unnoticed. But as the fight got worse and worse you couldn't help the way you physically jumped when Tony landed on the ground on his back near by the two of you. Covering your mouth Daryl pulled you tight against his body as the two men rolled onto the wool blanket then off again.

You couldn't sleep after that even if sleep found the two that fought just a few moments ago. Turning to Daryl you buried yourself deep in his chest. "What was the wife thing about?" You got the courage to ask when all was quiet and the snores of the men matched the previous night. Shaking his head Daryl laid back staring at the night sky. He was silent for a moment. Whether he was waiting for a break in the snoring or simply listening for any eave's droppers you'd never know. "Probably shoulda done it a long time ago... just..." His words fell off going silent. Sitting up you captured his eyes in yours. "I love you, Daryl." You whispered. "We'll find them... I promise." But he remained cold. His eyes dark, distant. "Get some sleep."

Time seemed to go in a blur after that. Days and nights melded together. Didn't matter which was which truly. You never felt rested. Your stomach never empty. Daryl attempted to feed you his portions. But as the lowest on the poll he got scraps as it was and you hated taking what he had.

You were tired and underfed when you found Rick, Michonne, and Carl. You had believed that they were just visions when you first saw them. Len held you by the arm. "Gotta make sure she gets in on the action with this one!" He yelled, jerking you around. Wide eyed and in disbelief you gapped like a fish. These people looked just like your family.

"Rick?" You managed. Silence. Joe turned to you his eyes questioning before he gripped you hard. Jerking away you tried to free yourself from his grasp. "Hey! Let her go!" Michonne screamed from the grasp of another man. "Don't you fuckin' touch her!" Carl cried. You nearly wailed out and fell to your knees in pure bliss and euphoria. Hearing their voices. Knowing for a fact they were real. But you were on the ground before you could act. Your face to the pavement you groaned as a boot ground against the back of your skull holding you there. "I've got one free ticket to paradise here boys... why not use it while the pickin's good?" Joe hummed.

You screamed as hands grabbed at you before you could even process the cold pavement below or the screams of your family by your side. Swinging with all your might in any direction you could get a good hold on you connected a few good hits. The yelling from your family was nightmarish. You forced yourself to close your eyes Not wanting to witness or watch what could possibly be happening. Daryl had shielded you last time. Alone you felt vulnerable and terrified.

The boot on your head made your head pound and ache. It was crushing your head and it felt as if your brains would spill if they stepped any harder. Your hair was yanked. Your blouse cut down the back. But before anything else could happen. The person on your head. Joe you believed. Stumbled off. A resounding smacking of knuckles to skin echoing through the woods. Sitting up your shirt slid from your shoulders as you stared wide eyed at Daryl. He had gotten one good swing in. Glancing to you was his downfall. He was dogpiled before he had the chance to say otherwise but the others forgot the knife in your boot. They forgot to check Carl or Michonne in their haste.

Blood pooled on the highway. The five of you stood gasping as one family unit once more, covered in blood but victorious above all odds. Gasping and staring down at the ugly hideous creatures below you, tears rolled down your cheeks. Daryl once again refused to look at you. Instead he offered his vest to you to cover you up with. Instead he turned and glanced to Rick a heartbroken boy staring at a man looking for forgiveness.

You were enveloped by Michonne and Carl before you could say other wise. Not that you would ever pull away ever again. Pulling them close you watched the makeshift brothers share a silent conversation. One guarded and afraid.

The other loving and accepting willing to forgive.

Rick held Daryl tight as he cried and the three of you migrated to them. Hugging them tight you rested your head on Daryl's shoulder, closing your eyes. For the first time since the fall... there was a small flicker of hope.

#the walking dead #twd #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #dark fic #dark themes #dark thoughts #the claimers #twd the claimers #tw violence #long post

49 notes · View notes

mochees · 2 days

Text

— two tortured souls

dazai osamu x chuuya nakahara | wc: 3k | crossposted to ao3

TAGS: drabble, angst, depression, post-corruption ability use, soft/comfort, generally low mental health mentions, chuuya has a BATH, use of petnames for teasing.

A/N: hihi!!! long time no write!!! remember when i dropped the most depraved, disgusting, self indulgent eremin fic ever and then dropped off the face of the earth with empty promises? me neither, moving on! anyway. been wanting to get back into writing lately but yknow..... the undergrad life........ but i find myself with too much time now that the semester is over so have a drabble thing i wrote a year ago and then just never posted lmfao. it was supposed to be longer but i just couldn't get the ending right so i left it kind of open i guess? anyway skk is real to me

Willingly sacrificing your autonomy is so much more than physically exhausting. Corruption leaves Chuuya feeling truly empty and insignificant. It makes him feel as though he really is just a vessel for something else. An empty, fleshy shell that doesn’t even belong to him. Unlike the physical exhaustion, however, the feeling lingers. It hangs around like a morning fog, obscuring everything as far as he can see. It’s disorienting and restrictive. Most of all, it’s loud. The voices that dwell in the fog are so loud, much louder than anything Chuuya has ever heard, and they echo. They echo, bouncing off of each other and amplifying every emotion, every word, every moment of despair.

Chuuya can’t remember how many days have passed since he used corruption. At least two, maybe even three. The fog is so thick that days eventually just blur together, and time turns into molasses. Resigning himself to a night or two in darkness, he tucks his knees against his chest and covers his ears with his arms, attempting to block out as much of the noise as possible.

But you can’t silence your own guilt.

It was pitch black in the house by the time Dazai arrived, which was unusual, but he figured that Chuuya was either tucked in and fast asleep already or strewn across some surface with a movie.

“Chuuya ~,” he sang. “I’m back ~!” Concern grew on Dazai’s face when the routine groan of usually completely false annoyance didn’t sound. He counted all the hats in the closet as he tucked his own clothing away and muttered to no one in particular, “he’s definitely here…”

The detective took a few steps before he sounded again, “Chuuya? Where are you?” The absence of an answer worried him further. No matter how tired, angry, or drunk Chuuya was, he always made a point of greeting his partner as unenthusiastically as he could.

Dazai made his way through the house, checking a few rooms before he found Chuuya. Scrunched up in the far corner of the bedroom, his faint form was desperately trying to be swallowed by darkness. Even for someone who consistently allowed themselves to actually be swallowed by the darkness, seeing Chuuya in such distress and anguish was deeply unsettling for Dazai. Chuuya always surrounded himself with people, and for him to look so alone–

Dazai shook off his thoughts and made his way over to the man, crouching low a few feet away.

“…uuya? Chuuya?” When he didn’t respond, Dazai raised his volume a fraction.

“Are you alright?” Chuuya jumped a little, unaware that someone had crossed into his world of anguish.

Dazai chuckled. He couldn’t help but find it a little humourous; it’s not often he was able to get the jump on him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“Dazai?” Chuuya’s voice was hoarse and distant, and Dazai immediately steeled himself.

“Are you– what happened?”

The executive didn’t answer. He just stared—not through Dazai or at anything; he just looked ahead with no purpose. Chuuya could hear something but could not decipher the sounds for the life of him. He only realized they were words when he noticed Dazai’s mouth moving.

There was nothing about Chuuya's demeanour that told Dazai he was conscious. But he also wasn't unconscious. God knows Dazai is all too familiar with Chuuya's unconscious mind, and this wasn't it. There was no light in his eyes, but they weren't lifeless. It was as if Chuuya had trapped himself in his own body, caught between two states of being. He didn't know if Chuuya could even process what he was saying in this state, but he also didn't want to stop. Perhaps Dazai believed in a silly idea that the sound waves might reach him, that they would guide him through whatever limbo he was in.

Once he finished, Dazai rose from his place on the floor and made his way to the bedroom door. Chuuya could see him leaving, but he couldn’t hear his footsteps. All he could focus on was the voices getting louder again, and the second that Dazai was out that door they started to echo again. Unwilling to fight them, Chuuya lowered his head back down and let the pressure build in his chest and ache his muscles.

Physically, the pain was no different from a hard day's work, but emotionally, it was excruciating. Every breath was hell. Each inhale wound a cord up tightly, but breathing out did nothing to release it. All of the fibres in Chuuya's body felt like they would snap and finally grant him a moment's release, maybe even exhaust him enough to sleep, but they didn't. Instead, they grew tighter and tighter, digging into every strand until it inevitably cut him into a million little pieces.

When Dazai returned, he was greeted with a sight more devastating than before. Tension was emanating from Chuuya like heat from a grill, and he looked positively hopeless.

“Chuuya,” Dazai’s voice was uncharacteristically soft—unfitting, really—but he hoped it might help Chuuya focus. “Will you come with me?” He waited a few moments, giving the redhead extra time to process.

To Chuuya, the sounds outside his head would die before they could fully reach him. The echo was good at drowning everything out like that.

But luckily, Dazai always did have a talent for evading death.

“You don’t have to do anything, I promise. I’ll–” He hesitated. How can you promise to take care of someone else when you’ve never been able to care for yourself?

“–I’ll help you. Please, Chuuya. If you stay here, it’s not going to get any better.”

Chuuya Nakahara knows that he is right. Of anyone, Osamu Dazai would know, wouldn’t he? It takes him a little while, but with a few shaky breaths and silent tears, he lifts his head and places his hand in the one outstretched before him. This won't fix him, but he has to admit that when Dazai rubs his thumb along his skin, it releases some of the tension in his shoulders. Dazai leans forward and slowly reaches for Chuuya’s other hand, stiff from how tight he was grasping onto his other arm.

“Okay, up we go.” Wasting no time to get Chuuya out of the isolation he'd built for himself, Dazai does his best to support as much of his weight as he can while holding his hands. He doesn’t know how long Chuuya had been sitting there, but he reckons his legs have probably gone numb. As if on cue, Chuuya almost falls right back down before Dazai has a hand on his waist.

“Careful.”

Chuuya's eyes are red and puffy, and his agony has left trails down his cheeks. Chuuya has always been beautiful to Dazai, stealing heartfelt glances when the former isn't looking. But seeing him like this is, in a way, even more breathtaking to Dazai. It means that after all these years of being so sick of each other's mere existence that Chuuya, his rival, his partner, trusts Dazai enough to shatter before him completely. Bringing Chuuya's hand up to his mouth, he lets his lips linger for a few moments as they wait for Chuuya's legs to regain feeling.

Once Chuuya is stable, he lets go of the shorter man’s waist and leads him with one hand, still petting his thumb across the freezing expanse of his hand.

Chuuya doesn’t know what his partner has been doing, or maybe he does. He can’t remember right now; he doesn’t want to. Wherever Dazai is taking him, it takes no longer than twenty seconds, but he feels like a stranger in his own home, wading through the thickest pool of molasses. He can see a straight hallway ahead of him, but it seems like an endless maze of twists and turns. One foot in front of the other, he tries to tell himself, but it’s hard to tell your feet what to do when you feel like a stranger in your own body to. He can feel his face growing wetter as they arrive at their destination. However, in a brief moment of relief, he realizes that they're not tears but steam.

For the time that he had disappeared past the threshold, Dazai had run Chuuya a hot bath and made him something simple to eat. Knowing all too well what feeling this way does to one’s motivation and desire. But honestly, the last thing Chuuya wants to do right now is to bathe. It’s far too much work, and he’d rather be back in the dark in the corner or under a blanket. Even if it meant he’d be alone with his stupid fucking thoughts.

“I know it seems like a chore, but it will help, Chuuya.” Dazai’s familiarity with the muddied waters of one’s own psyche was currently vastly irritating. Chuuya knows that he’s right. He does, but even then, it’s still too much for him to handle right now.

Dazai takes Chuuya’s other hand back in his own. “Do you want me to stay?”

“I– I don’t know.” His voice sounded better to Dazai, the steam probably settling in his throat.

“It’s okay not to know, but I can’t stay here with you if you don’t know.”

Chuuya snaps his head a little at that, shooting his partner an exhausted expression. Dazai gives a slight smile at the motion and gives the others' hands, still in his own, a reassuring squeeze. Perhaps it’s a little morally wrong given the circumstances, but he thinks that he could have a little, tiny bit of fun with this.

“Would you like my help?” He asks again, and Chuuya nods his head before practically collapsing into his arms.

Oh, it is absolutely morally wrong, but he can’t help himself, so he softly teases the man. “Such a gentleman! Flirting with me before we spend the night in each other's company!”

That earns a tired groan from Chuuya who is not willing to put up with Dazai’s usual jeering, but also not unexpected of the brunette to choose the completely wrong time to make his jokes.

“I’m sorry, my darling.” He uses the pet name, knowing he’ll be able to get away with it tonight since Chuuya is too tired to fight him. He runs his fingers through red strands, waiting for Chuuya’s breathing to even out in his hold before moving his hands down to the hem of his shirt. Deft fingers slip underneath and rub small circles into the skin there.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

Upon receiving a satisfied hum of approval, he lifts Chuuya’s shirt over his head and drops it onto the counter. Staying out of your head is hard when you’re alone. Knowing Chuuya has already surmised his partners' intentions of distracting him, gently, Dazai pulls him back into his chest and runs his nails down his back. Chuuya’s skin was already freezing before, so he can’t tell if his goosebumps are from chills, or from him. He hopes it’s the latter. After a few seconds, his movements shift into steady pressure trying to work out the tension that Chuuya had cultivated. When he feels Chuuya fall further into him, Dazai is pleased with his work already.

“Chuuya,” he presses harder when he finds a particularly knotty spot at the base of Chuuya’s neck. “Unless you want to get in with your pants on, you’ll have to take them off.”

This earns Dazai a particularly unimpressed look when Chuuya pushes off his chest.

“What?”

Chuuya continues to stare.

“Did you want me to do it for you?”

Well, Chuuya supposes that Dazai can’t help the fact that he is an idiot. After all, he did promise to help. He rolls his eyes and lets out a particularly rumbly sigh, and drops his pants himself, kicking them to the side.

“So forward of you~” teases Dazai.

Turning towards the tub, Chuuya grumbles. “I hate you.”

Dazai grins again. Even if he still feels worse than shit, he’s glad to see Chuuya with a little bit of his fire again. “I know you do. Here, let me help.”

Holding onto Chuuya’s forearm, Dazai helps him settle into the bath. Chuuya resumes his form from earlier in the night, but much more open. His arms are propped on top of his knees, hands hanging down, and fingers just dipping into the water. Dropping his head in between his shoulders as the heat surrounds his aching body, blue eyes fall shut. Then, he releases a deep breath he didn’t even realize he was holding in. Dazai has his arm across the edge of the tub, resting his head with eyes full of admiration. With Chuuya completely bare in front of him, he traces the flow of his body with his eyes. Stopping often to archive all the little things he loves. Soft red hair that he can't help but play with. Shoulders that he's cried on. The gentleness of his otherwise blood-soaked hands. Even the scars littered across his skin, Dazai loves. They look much better on Chuuya than on him. He reaches out and just barely grazes the sides of Chuuya’s fingers above the water.

“What are you so happy about?”

Dazai hums in response, and Chuuya blows a ripple on the water. They spend a while like this—still, just next to each other, the only sound being an occasional jittery breath.

Dazai interrupts the silence by dipping his fingers into the water and letting the droplets roll off onto Chuuya’s shoulder.

“Feeling better?”

Chuuya wiggles his fingers in the water, trying to find an answer below the surface.

“C’mere, and turn around.”

Chuuya turns his head, resting it along his arm and staring the man down.Dazai can read it in his eyes: For what.

“You’re still tense. So come here.” He presses his finger on the edge of the tub. “I didn’t get to finish getting all the knots out.”

Dazai is not as good at hiding his intentions from Chuuya as he thinks he can be. “You just want to play with my hair.”

Dazai knows this. He feigns being insulted anyway, throwing his hands into the air. “And so what if I do? Is that a crime? Is it wrong of me to want t–”

“You’re real insufferable, y’know.” Chuuya turns his back to the side of the bathtub.

Dazai smiles sweetly. He likes that so much of their relationship can be left unsaid. Sure, sometimes it probably shouldn’t be unsaid, but it’s fine. Dazai is happy. “It’s why we work so well together.”

He gets to work on dissipating the rest of the fear and anger in Chuuya’s bones, occasionally and very intentionally, getting sidetracked and twirling a lock of hair around his fingers. At the mercy of Dazai's frighteningly deft hands, a particular spot just above Chuuya's shoulder blade earns Dazai a groan—one he oh so graciously accepts. Working lithe fingers around it, Chuuya leans his head back onto Dazai as the little ball of stress is pulled apart, strand by strand.

Chuuya's neck is deliciously bared, and Dazai is an opportunistic man. He trails kisses up to just below red lashes, slow and endearing. He continues massaging throughout, placing a final one on fluttering eyes before dragging his lips back down to Chuuya’s ear.

“The water’s getting cool, my love. You should really get out soon.” Dazai is very pleased with himself when Chuuya shudders. (He is an opportunistic man, after all, and it truly is such a wonderful opportunity to be the most annoying man on the planet.) He lets his mouth fall down to Chuuya’s shoulder, resting for a moment and trying very hard to hold back the biggest, dopiest grin. Of course, Chuuya can tell. He can sense the smallest shifts in Dazai's behaviour. Although, this time he could tell by just feeling Dazai's facial muscles straining against his shoulder. But Dazai doesn't need to know that.

"...Shut up. Get me a towel." Chuuya does a very bad job of hiding the blush on his cheeks.

Dazai just smiles at his partner, he can't see, but it's a smile full of fondness. One with admiration, love, and as much as he'd rather die than admit it, respect too. Letting someone see you have a complete breakdown, watching as the industrial strength glue you've used to keep yourself from falling apart rapidly starts to degrade, and still trusting that they won't think any differently of or diminish you, takes so much courage. It takes so much trust to rely on someone, even someone you love, to help you set the pieces back together.

That's something Dazai has never been able to do. He can't let go of that vulnerability, and he cannot have it used against him. Of course, deep down, Dazai knows that Chuuya would never do that to him, but it's hard to turn off those thoughts. It's hard to think of yourself as worth loving and caring for when you have never loved or cared for yourself.

"Hey, are you okay?" The smile on Dazai's face is forlorn. Realizing that Chuuya is reading him like a book Dazai masterfully shifts his expression, changing the atmosphere around him. This is not about him, and he shouldn't be making it so.

"I'm just peachy, Chibi!” Chuuya doesn't press any further.

Dazai wraps the towel around him, pulling at the ends to bring his partner closer. Taking a second to look over Chuuya, he notes that his eyes are no longer red and puffy, and his skin has a sheen from the moisture in the air. He truly is the most breathtaking person Dazai has ever had the displeasure of meeting.

With Chuuya at his chest, he leans down and kisses the man. It's needy, in a way. Soft and tender, but full of so much want, so much need. Like if he couldn't be close to Chuuya anymore, he would simply explode. Dazai doesn't know how to express it though. How he would articulate these thoughts in a way that feels right, so he settles for something simple. Maybe it's not as meaningful, but he trusts that Chuuya understands anyway.

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #dazai x chuuya #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #chuuya x dazai #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #❀.writing #❀.drabbles

20 notes · View notes