so we're gonna get a chenford "stay with me" right? :') right?? :')) RIGHT???? :'))))))))

rafe giving you a condescending pat on the ass while telling you to do something

i feel like there’s a difference between all three seasons of rafe doing this !

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖

s1 rafe, he knows he’s being audacious. he’d probably do it infront of his friends just to show off the power he has over you. “fetch me another beer would you? should probably make yourself useful, right?” he squints one eye at you rudely before sending you off with a pat on your ass towards the cart. poor thing, too shy to speak up for yourself especially not around all his friends— so you don’t say a word, toddling off to do as you’re told. kelce laughs and topper shakes his head, pretending he occasionally respects women.

s2 rafe would purely be for the purpose of being a dick, especially if you’re being a little brat and he knows he’s right. “ugh, i told you rafe— s’not there, i looked!”

“and im telling you, you need to look again.” he approaches you quickly, bending down a little to be more eye level with you. “so go look.” he repeats slower, like you’re dumb. you huff, spinning around and he pats your ass. “wasnt so hard was it?”

you spin right around, anger inflamed in your stomach and you stare him down— but as soon as you do, he steps up to you threateningly to intimidate you. “yeah? what?” he gets in your space and you back down, blinking up at him all ashamed before walking away. “s’what i thought, baby.” he calls after you, salt in the wound.

s3 rafe you’d expect nothing less, and you don’t even dislike it. you’ve gotten used to not having to use your brain around him, just letting him direct you on what to do. you’re sat outside barry’s house with the man himself and rafe, glued to his side as they talk business.

“think we gotta get rid of him man, that’s all m’sayin’.” barry looks serious for once, brows raising at rafe who blinks back at him in shock. rafes head turns towards you instantly, fumbling out an excuse to rid you from the conversation for a moment.

“uh, why don’t you uh— go inside n’get yourself a drink, yeah?” rafe suggests with a warm smile— calm and mature.

“m’kay.” you shrug, standing up.

“watch the skirt, ma.” barry points out helpfully, still lacking mirth from his tone and you tug down the pink material that had ridden up. rafe, eager to rid of you for a moment to talk shady business pats your ass, hurrying you alone.

“alright, good girl— off you go.” he watches you leave, before turning back to barry. “get rid of him? ‘that what we’re doing now?”

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖

Please hear me out!

i’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I wanted to write it myself but I can’t write for shit 😭 Here’s my idea, reader (she/her) is close friends with Satoru and Suguru. She takes Suguru’s place instead, and Suguru ends up not going insane, and decides to stick around in Jujutsu High. But because the reader takes his place in this story, she spirals and abandons the idea of being morally good. (She’s a sensitive softie at heart 🥹 the cruel reality of being a sorcerer really took a toll on her). She commits so many crimes that the higher ups urge the strongest duo to finally execute her after dismissing her for nearly a decade. She dies in their hands, and doesn’t get a proper burial. Kenjaku takes her body and uses it as vessel. When Shibuya arc finally unfolds, she shows up right in front of Satoru and Suguru, alive and well. Soon reveals that it’s Kenjaku who has full control of her body. Of course their guilts eats them alive, and the reader (more like kenjaku) rubs salt on their wounds by taunting them about how she’s a great vessel and also a waste that she had to die so soon.

LOST CAUSE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU + GETO SUGURU, but there’s no romance whatsoever, guest appearance of Kenjaku

cw: an au where SatoSugu have another close friend; spoilers for Hidden Inventory/Premature Death arc and the very beginning of Shibuya arc, so much angst and the usual that comes with JJK – blood, hurt, tears and depression : D also, possibly inaccurate references to the original plot, reader's death — 5,5k words

a/n: I’m hearing you out dear! Thank you for the conception, it certainly fulfilled my need to write long and angsty <3

It was stupid. All of it was stupid. Why? Which decisions led you to where you now stood, all of your mind and body filled with devastation as you stilled in time – above the piles of little corpses, disfigured and permanently contorted in a grimace of dread and suffering. A stench of blood and burned bodies irritated your nostrils, your eyes were teary from all the smoke that still was filling the air and as you looked down at your hands, they were covered in blood and purple goo. Sticky. Repulsive. And the screams. In the dead silence of your surroundings, your head was still filled with an echo of those, who were now dead at your feet. Those, who you were unable to save. The imagery of them running, begging, dying carved itself into your mind. Why were you here, again?

* * *

“Hey, y/n, you’ve lost some weight. Are you alright?”, Satoru asked, playing with pencil that just a moment ago he asked you to throw at him. A showcase of his new skills, the techniques he’s been perfecting for the last year after encountering Toji Fushiguro. You forced a smile, squinting from the blinding sun of the summer at its peak.

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, patting Suguru’s shoulder, because his attentive eyes were scanning you already for any sign of disorder; you could hear his analytic brain cranking up, his golden pupils drilling holes in your head. “I’m good, it’s just too hot you know?”

“Wanna go grab some ice cream later?”

“Always.” No, you didn’t wanna go grab ice cream with them. You didn’t wanna grab anything with anyone for that matter and already you had come up with some half-baked excuse to sell later to your two best friends.

You, Shoko, Gojo and Geto were all in the same year in Jujutsu high. You joined them a little late, but quickly found yourself inside the love triangle with the two boys. You called it love, but it truly was nothing more than just a bonding friendship that you wished will last forever; a really close one and you couldn’t imagine your world without their chaos. They were like brothers to you, the ones you’ve never had and Ieiri was like a sister, but she was smart enough to keep her distance from the mess of SatoSugu. You were not as bright in that matter, but for two years, you couldn’t appreciate enough the yin and yang that they created, the casual bickers and deep talks late at night, the cuddles and pinches, the pats and smacks, the tears and laughs, sleepovers, sleepless nights and everything between. You loved them, you couldn’t think of your future without them.

That’s until not that long ago. Few months, maybe. You felt like you’ve been spiraling slowly into something that could only be named depression, because if not that, then what else? Why would you randomly tear up nowadays, zoning out completely in the midst of sentences. Why would you spend nights, blankly staring at the ceiling instead of sleeping, isolating yourself from your friends more and more? And why would you still hear that? The screams, the pleads of hysteric, the soul-tearing sounds of pain and frighten that you’ve been carrying inside your brain since that one mission.

Everything went wrong then, and you were alone. Shoko stayed at the campus, working her way towards becoming a doctor and you, Satoru and Suguru were assigned only to solo missions since the plasma vessel failure. You were strong, it was stated that your year was exceptional, that all of you have a chance to become special grades soon, but you hated that. Being strong came with a burden that you were not ready to take, and when you realized that, most of it was already heaving on your shoulders.

When you got to that school, it was already too late and it wasn’t your fault. You rushed there as soon as you were assigned with the job, but when you dropped the curtain and looked at the building, there was already smoke coming from the window holes, that some time earlier had glass in them. And when you kicked your way inside the little indoor sports arena, the view struck you in ways you couldn’t possibly prepare yourself for and certainly, you couldn’t process it as well. The school was primary, those people were just kids, but the curses pay no mind to age of their victims. This one was particularly playful – or rather, eagerly violent – spreading hellfire around, burning these children alive one by one, causing chaos, suffering and bloodshed. When you finished exorcising it, it was over. For the curse, for your job and for the lives of all of those children. None survived. Not even one.

Not always we can save everyone, Suguru always told you, rationalizing the sacrifices sorcerers have to make and you tried to repeat that in your head when you got out. You tried to play it over the screams, but eventually, the soft tone of your friend’s voice got lost in the catastrophic cacophony of sorrow, sizzling skin and burning death. And that, maybe wouldn’t be enough for you to lose your mind. Maybe you could recover from that, but soon after the incident you witnessed the group of people that stood behind the assault. A band of grown humans, men and women, who were convinced some of those children were possessed by devils or some other shit, so in all hypocrisy known to race, they hired a curse user to fight fire with fire. Quite literally. Those people were so blinded by their fear of unknown that they sacrificed lives of dozens of little children, they shattered so many innocent lives only because they believed in something absurd. And then, they tried to push the blame on you, on sorcerers despite the fact they hired one to do the dirty job. And then, they killed the user, fearing him too. When you’ve got to see the body of a sorcerer that you’ve never got to meet, or at least you thought so, you realized that probably, you wouldn’t recognize him anyway. You’ve seen corpses barely reminiscing of humans, twisted and broken as curses often chose the most petrifying, violent ways of killing, but this? This was something you’ve never seen before – a cruel, ruthless exhibition of pure hate, evidence of deliberate torture, the picture painted in stabs, burns and bruises. All of which, caused by people, who frankly, showed no remorse nor regret as their faces were painted in pride, origin of which you failed to notice.

Those humans. Used jujutsu to commit mass murder only to blame it on your people and kill them. Animals. No. Worse. Much worse.

“Y/n, please, let’s talk it through,” Suguru tried to reason, as you stood up against the two of your friends, in the middle of Shibuya’s scramble crossing. People were passing next to the three of you, unbothered by the way your worlds were colliding right here, in the busiest part of Tokyo. People didn’t care of others, they wouldn’t react if someone next to them would get stabbed to death, only caring about their own shoes to not get them stained in the dirt of blood.

“Don’t be stupid, it’s not who you are,” Satoru raised his tone, but all you felt was nothing. The emotions you’ve seen on his face were real, you knew it. Satoru wears his heart on his shoulder, he pours everything he feels into the words he aims at people that are close to his soul, and you were no exception, but at this moment, you felt nothing. “I know you couldn’t do that.”

“Couldn’t I?”, you asked, thinking back on the last Friday, during which you executed those same people that used jujutsu sorcerers to wipe the floors of that primary school. To wipe the blood and burned bodies. You remember how they knelt before you, how the women cried begging for their lives, yelping that they have children, families and yet, those same children and families were nowhere in their mind when they ordered a mass murder in the primary school. “And why would that be exactly? Because you two think so?”

“Y/n, I get it,” Geto stepped forward, but stopped as you glanced at him. “I really do. You know me, we talked about it. It was hard for me too after Riko, I know what you’re going through.”

“I know Suguru.”

“I thought you keep his side, y/n,” Gojo threw his hands in the air, helplessly trying to find the words to dress his mind with. “I thought you believe in doing good with your powers. That people won’t understand so we shouldn’t look at them and just do what we do. Wasn’t that what you’ve told me?”

“I did, yes,” you gave it a nod and exhaled. “But it changed. Yes, they won’t understand. Anything that they can’t comprehend is pure evil for them and yet they believe in such absurd like gods. They will use us to do their dirty works and then blame us for it, because they cannot understand a single thing. And then, they will kill us, one by one and we, the strongest, cannot do nothing about it. We’ll have to go through life through the corpses of our friends. People don’t deserve what we do for them.”

“Y/n, please, let’s talk about it. Let’s get back to school-“ Geto tried, but you cut him off.

“You two, get back to school. I know I have a sentence already, there’s no point for me to get back there only to get executed. And frankly, I don’t want to get back there, to take part in what they teach us is right when we die for those people. We give our lives for them and they have no idea,” you said, taking a step back. You could tell the lights will soon switch. “Look around, Satoru, Suguru. They crawl around us unaware of our sacrifice and yet, even if they are so fragile a single blow can kill them, they think we deserve to be killed. I’m not gonna take part in this anymore. I’m sorry.”

“We can’t let you go, you know that, we-“

“Then attack me. I’m sure any of you can take me down. I’d rather die by your hands, than on a job of protecting them.”

You turned your back on them, and Satoru raised his hand, pointing at your silhouette, blue already on his mind as his cursed energy gathered in front of his fingers. Suguru’s curses sprawled out of their dimension, but none of them pursued with the attack, unable to do that. They couldn’t kill you. You were too dear to them. They loved you too much to take your life like this. So they let you go, and soon enough, they lost the sight of you in the crowd.

* * *

Nine years. It's been almost a decade and many things changed. You changed your ways completely, making a point of protecting sorcerers from people, even if that meant killing them, but care for humans was something you’ve lost many years ago, having it slowly replaced by disgust. Your once soft heart turned hard and dark and all the good in you vanished as you time after time solidified your beliefs that humans are simply not worth saving, therefore there was no need to keep them alive the moment they became useless. Over those years, you used those people to your benefit, raising money and gathering intel and then, the second their use to you has become nonexistent, so were them. Blood burned permanent stains on your hands but screams of hurt didn’t phase you at all. Have you become a monster? You might have. But for the lives of sorcerers, it was worth it.

It’s been almost a decade since you’ve been dismissed from jujutsu community for crimes, that over those years piled up rapidly and during this time, both Satoru and Suguru tried to stay out of this, whilst Yaga turned a blind eye to the corrupted path one of his students went down by. The now principal felt responsible for not doing enough, for not saying enough, for not noticing soon enough and though the rest of his students, now teachers in Jujutsu high told him that some things were inevitable, it wasn’t that easy to switch off the thinking. Same went for both the strongest, but for years, they waited in hopes for something to change.

That was until you killed someone seemingly important. A politician of sorts, high government pawn that you learned was funding a unit of so-called sorcerer killers, ones that modelled after Toji Fushiguro in cold blood were meant to take down a menace that jujutsu users were, as if it was them who were the ones to fear. Opposite to little no-one’s deaths, this one was loud, this one was medial and this one, Yaga couldn’t let slip. So, an order was given.

Kill on sight.

Almost ten years, and yet Satoru still couldn’t believe what happened. Whilst young, the three of you were almost inseparable and you, out of the whole group, were the most sensitive person he knew. You were soft and full of smiles, kind above all else and yet, you were strong enough to hold back the tears he knew were threatening to roll down your cheeks on many occasions. You were soothing, an oasis that was easily able to turn any darkness into light, and what Satoru couldn’t forgive himself was that once that same darkness started devouring you, he didn’t notice. Too focused on his own missions, on lighthearted shenanigans, on perfecting his usage of limitless and six eyes, he had no idea about your state of mind and when he realized, you have already been sentenced. Suguru didn’t notice either. Or maybe didn’t want to notice, because you talked through many nights about the doubts you both had. He knew about the utter devastation that was slowly consuming your soul but hoped you’ll overcome it, because you always were a sunshine, and a sunshine couldn’t die down to shadows. Turned out, this shadow was pitch black and no light made its way through it.

“Y/n,” they called you and the beautiful music that their voices created brought back memories of your youth. Ten years, almost, had passed since you’ve seen your best friends the last time, and with curiosity sparkling through your system, you turned to face them.

“Satoru, Suguru,” addressing them, your lips curved up slightly in a manner of soft joy. Your heart fluttered at the sight; your pulse raised just as it would for person who’s just seen the love of their life. “Long time no see.”

“It’s not as pleasurable as we would like it to be, y/n,” Suguru sighed and you took a moment to absorb the view.

Both of them changed. Suguru, still tall and broad, seemingly even buffier than he was before stood there with his hair now longer and partially knotted and partially left loose on his back. His facial features sharpened, jaw got more edge to it, eyes turned more narrow and focused, but still, some softness remained from what you remembered and probably he would seem even more familiar if not for the tough expression he had going on. Satoru, right next to him, became even taller. His white hair was now pointing up, kept by a white wrap that completely covered his eyes – something that he probably adapted during the time of usage of his six eyes. Not much of his face you could see, but with ease you noticed his features matured. Both were dressed in uniforms that you could only tie to their unbreakable bond with Jujutsu high.

“You’re now teachers, the two of you, huh?”, you asked, smiling softly, but keeping their moves in mind. “I’ve heard this year’s students are exceptional, now it makes sense. Good they have such amazing senseis.”

“You could have been one of the teachers too,” Gojo snapped.

“How could I teach anyone something I don’t believe in?” a chuckle rumbled deep in your chest as you thought of the image. Abstraction of it made you amused. “How’s Shoko? Is she a doctor now?

“She is,” Geto muttered, unsure why is he answering your questions. “Yaga is the principal.”

“Oh, is he? Look at him, climbing up that ladder,” you laughed, “so, it’s on his orders that you two are here?”

“You killed a fucking politician, y/n,” Satoru spoke, sounding calm but you could tell his blood was boiling. Both of his hands hidden in his pockets were visibly clenched in fists and even though you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew his brows were furrowed. “Almost a decade we allowed you to do whatever you tried to do, but this time, higher ups stepped in. The sentence is decided, we cannot let you pursue your goals further.”

“And why are you both here? I’m sure just one amazing special grade would be enough,” there was a certain amount of poison in your words, though it wasn’t directed at your friends and both of them knew it. “Are the higher ups so desperate to get me off the board because it’s them who give green lights to those assholes that kill us? Did you know that that pathetic politician I’ve killed was in midst of creating an army of little Toji Fushiguros? How do you think he even knew about the dude, huh?”

“An army of Toji?”

“Yeah, remember that guy, that cut both of you into slices? Yea, that one. And who’s giving away the cursed tools to said army? Well, it’s not me and I assume not any of you as well.”

 “Y/n,” Suguru made his way to the side in what seemed like an attempt on surrounding you, because in that same moment, Satoru began shifting to the other side. “I agree with you. People don’t deserve what we do. But no one else can do it. You’re killing those whom we swore to protect.”

“Tell me, Suguru… how many bodies of our friends did Shoko cut open?” you asked and the question made the dark-haired man tsk. It was the truth that hurt the most, he hated how precisely it hit the spot. “How many of our allies were spread across her metal table after Haibara was there? Well, half of Haibara?”

“That’s not the point,” Satoru scoffed and with an exhale, he raised his hand up to loosen up the bandages around his eyes. “We die just as people die. Sorcerers are not above death. You know that, right?”

“We’re not above that, but we are above people and we risk our lives, which we just like them have only one of, for them. And they fuckingstep on it. If I have to pick who’s gonna die from a curse, why would I pick a sorcerer, when a loss of a mere human will be much less tangible than the loss of one of us?”

“Because they cannot protect themselves from curses, and we can.” Geto replied and in a whiff, you felt the appearance of his curses around him. Both him and Gojo were getting ready for a fight, so you had to get ready as well.

“But can we really protect ourselves from them?”, you glared back at him; your tone calm but laced with icicles that pierced through Suguru’s mind as he struggled to see you inside of you.

All of the softness he had always equated you with dissolved into something he couldn’t quite place. Image of you killing someone just for the sake of killing somehow couldn’t materialize inside his mind and it pained him, breaking his heart to think that he will be the reason of your death. And it’s true that probably, just one of them would be enough for that fight, but there was no way they would be able to chose and no one else could do it. You were the strongest, you grew into a special grade quickly after leaving and your technique proved to have no flaws or holes. You were a threat above abilities of others, stepping down only to the two of your friends, if not being equal to them.

“Let’s do it quickly, Suguru,” Satoru sighed, tucking his wraps into one of his pockets.

“Oh, where’s your playful attitude, Satoru?”, you teased, but somehow it hurt you as well. It was your friend you were talking to. Both of them, that came here to kill you and only way for you to get out of it was to kill them.

And killing them, turned out, you couldn’t do. Even hurting them came with difficulty not physically, but mentally. But you fought them both at the same time, keeping a defensive stance, searching for an opening to vanish. From them, you wished to run away, to not make them take the burden of your death because you could see it in their eyes, you were just as dear to them still, as they were to you. But they left you no opening to run away, so you fought. Using everything you’ve got to immobilize them, because instead of taking their lives, that would give you more time.

The way you stood against them, with your cursed technique of energy manipulation, it gave them the hardest time since Toji, and considering they were both taking part in the fight now, ten years after and significantly stronger, just showed how much work you’ve put into your own development. And with pride you noticed, how strong both of your friends became as well. You countered all of their attacks, slashed away the curses and blocked the blues and reds, albeit it really was a matter of time and you knew that. And so, you pushed through, materializing in your hands weapons made from pure, solidified cursed energy, using swords and needles and creating armor around your body that effectively, shielded you from any attack. Your weapon was different from cursed tools. It was made only from energy, strong and unbendable, changing shapes and forms as you deemed it necessary, allowing you to use it in close combat and on long distances. Any curses Suguru summoned stood no chance against what you wielded, but the sheer amount of them was just short of overwhelming you. On top of that, Satoru’s constant offensive, his fists saturated in limitless abilities, the sheer strength of both bodies that were attacking you, slowly rendered you weaker. And it didn’t surprise you.

The end has come when one of the curses stopped you mid-way, engaging in a fight that distracted you enough for a hollow purple to reach your body. The blast threw you away as your body pierced through three buildings straight, through thick concrete bocks and hard steel reinforcements like it was tearing through wet paper and it’s only thanks to the full body coverage of your cursed technique, that it didn’t kill you on the spot. But it hurt. All of your body felt broken once you finally stopped, back pressed against the wall that still cracked underneath the impact of your frame hitting it. Blood covered your vision and a cough shook your body with painful wave overtaking your entire nervous system.

“So that’s the infamous hollow purple, huh?”, you muttered, leaning your head back against the cold solid behind you. There wasn’t much in your body that wouldn’t be fractured at least, you could tell without a mistake that your heart was still beating only because of the cursed energy that still circled throughout your frame.

Both men appeared in front of you, jumping from above – Suguru coming from one of his flying curses and Satoru, probably just teleported here.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” Gojo whispered, squatting in front of you and Geto followed his motion to level his vision with yours.

“’ts alright, ‘toru,” you muttered, feeling the dizziness taking the best of you. After the hit you took, you were certain not even a genius like Shoko could save you. “Sugu… both so strong.”

Exchanging a quick glance, both sorcerers sat down, on your sides, paying no mind to the puddle of blood underneath you. They took your hands, so small in comparison to theirs, now red and wounded severely, but the pain you couldn’t feel much of anymore.

“I’m sorry I didn’t take this mission for you. Back in our days. It was meant to be mine, but I was training,” Satoru confessed, squeezing lightly the fractured bones in your palm, reminiscing of the day that was the beginning of your end. The elementary. That day engraved itself in his memory as one of many days that seemingly mattered nothing. Yaga told him about the issue, the curse and fire in school for the youngest, but he brushed it off, focusing all of his mind on perfecting the last touches of his technique. He still remembers how sensei was mumbling profanities, but couldn’t care less because he was that close from teleporting.

“’ts okay, ‘toru.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there either,” Suguru added, his voice barely a whisper as you leaned your head against his shoulder, desperate to ease the heaviness. What Geto remembered from the day in question was that he had an issue with his own technique. Little difficulty, as he was absorbing one of the special grade curses he just caught. It wasn’t severe, it wasn’t even that important, he could have fix this on another time and take the god damn mission, but instead, he declined. “I thought if I don’t take the job, Satoru will, but turned out, it got to you.”

“Sugu, ‘ts ok.”

“Remember how we used to sneak out the dorms to get ice cream in the middle of the night?”, Satoru changed the topic completely – a defensive mechanism to lighten up the mood, to prevent him from crying. And you hummed in response, lowering your heavy lids.

“And how Satoru got drunk after three sips of a beer? That’s when we all knew he’s the lightest head in the history,” Suguru added and faded images of how Gojo discovered that he cannot drink to save his life rushed to the front of your mind.

You had no idea how long it took, was it few minutes or merely few seconds, but you listened to both men rambling above your head, reminiscing of your school days and everything that you did together. Of every prank you witnessed that they took on poor first years, of every little mischief and menace they performed, following Satoru’s lead, because it’s always him who stood tall in the name of chaos. You were humming softer and softer, quieter and quieter.

Until you were not.

“And then we put those cupcakes in Nanami’s bed and-“

“Satoru,” Geto cut him softly, looking down at your stilled frame. At your frozen chest and softened features, sensing no more heartbeat. And Gojo turned his eyes towards you as well, taking in the last picture of you, who he loved as his little sister, even though there was no age gap between you and him. And then they both cried in silence, spending another hour with your dead body before gathering you and taking home.

* * *

October 31, 2018

21:18

Only word that could describe what was happening in Shibuya at this moment would be chaos. Pure disorder, people frightened and running, some unconscious on the ground and some other hiding from what was happening in the Shibuya station. Most of them couldn’t see it but felt the terror, saw the blood, smelled the death in the middle of which, two men were standing.

Both Satoru and Suguru, when they came down here to fight whatever the hell was attacking people, couldn’t move; their heads void of any logical thoughts as memories rushed to the fronts of their minds. Stunned to the core and frozen, they looked into the eyes of the person in front of them, distrusting their own vision. The person that wore the familiar look of you, the energy of you and what seemed like – the same cursed technique, and voice, and face, and hair, and everything. Not one thing betrayed trickery or deception as there you stood, facing them both with a smile on your face – one of those soft ones that had melted their hearts on the spot a decade before. Your features relaxed, genuine, borderline joyous as you breathed the air around them once again.

“What…?”, Suguru snapped first, forcing his own body to move and smacking his friend’s shoulder. “How?”

“Who the hell are you…?”, Satoru whispered, voice stuck in his throat as all of the information that his senses were receiving contradicted with what his soul was telling him.

“Aah? It’s been few months, but do you not recognize me anymore?”, your voice flew through your mouth, the very same gentle and bright tone they used to fall asleep to. “It’s hurting my feelings.”

“Cut it,” Gojo snapped, now putting more pressure on his vocal cords, a groan escaping his throat in effect. “Cut the bullshit, you’re not her. You cannot be her. Y/n is-“

“Dead? Yeah, that purple really messed me up,” you chuckled, shrugging your shoulders slightly and stepping forward. “I have to admit, restoring the body wasn’t the easiest of all.”

“Reveal yourself,” Geto took the defensive stance, ready to pursue with attack if needed and his curses floating behind him on standby. “You’re not fooling us.”

“Ah, how stubborn,” another laugh brightened your face, only now more menacing, more teasing as your dainty fingers reached up to gather the lose hair out of your forehead, revealing a line of thin stitches across your skin there. “See, you really did me a favor by burying her body oh-so traditionally. Isn’t that the procedure to burn every deceased sorcerer?” your mouth was moving, spilling the words interlaced with taunt as the, what looked like, thread was pulled out of the horizontal line above your eyebrows and soon after, grabbed by the hair, the top of your head was lifted, revealing the terrifying image of a brain. With mouth of its own.

“What did you do to her?!”

“Oh, I just took what you two threw away,” you replied, slowly putting the upper skull part down on its place, matching the lines as the thread went through the holes by itself, securing the head together. “And I have to thank you for your little sentiment. If not for that, I wouldn’t have my perfect vessel. Ah, but it’s sad, isn’t it? Such a young, pretty girl had to die so early, and more so, killed by her own best friends. What a waste to jujutsu community, don’t you think?”

Both the boys stood there in shock, guilt eating them alive as the salt and acid was being rubbed into the wounds that just opened. The scabs of the past were ripped away, revealing the gushing pain and Satoru growled in anger, realizing that once again, he might have been responsible for what happened to you. This time, Suguru kept up with him in terms of fury, feeling his own blood boiling in his veins, unable to watch your body being possessed like this, used like a toy.

“Y/n, I know you’re there-“ Gojo called, but got stopped quickly by another pilfering laugh.

“Oh, but she’s not. Her soul is long gone and dead. You made sure to have her soul dead, and you have to know I nearly teared up reviewing her memories when I took the body. Such a poignant story, oh, so heartbreaking.” The teasing had no end as more and more poisonous venom spilled through your mouth, contradicting the carefree and joyful tone of your voice.

“What makes you believe that even if you take her body, you can win here? We’ve defeated her already,” Suguru narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, you’ve won but that’s because she let you two won. Wasn’t that surprising how easily you finished her? A special grade? How she didn’t even try to dodge the hollow purple, like the little curse that she was fighting with was really that much of a struggle? Oh, don’t be silly, you two. It wouldn’t be that easy if she tried.”

“We won’t let you-“

“You must understand your situation. What you’re standing in is a special grade cursed object. A prison realm, and to say it simply, you’ve already lost,” you pointed at the floor, from where the four corners of a cube stretched into a mass of flesh, with an eye – giant and bleeding, staring at its target, as the next stage of sealing began before either of sorcerers reacted. “And what’s more interesting, the prison realm can seal only one person at the time, but with the incredible technique of my current host, I was able to fuel its capacity to two occupants, by manipulating the cursed energy it used. Marvelous!”

The cursed object began enveloping both men, rendering them helpless and immobile, as their cursed energy became unavailable for their use.

“We’ll save you, y/n, you hear me?”, Satoru yelled in unison with his friend and the lone tear rolled down your face, before your hand reached up wiping it in amusement.

“Gate close.”

Hi! Could I request something like reader and Eddie being in a relationship just a couple of weeks a maybe and reader is a bit shy and they meet readers friend who’s also a guitarist and also a hot rock and roll girl, reader is getting insecure and jealous but Eddie assures her that she’s the one and only ❤️

i love this!! thank you for requesting <3 (fem!reader)

you trust eddie.

you'd only been together for a few weeks, yet trust has been bound tightly the moment you two have met. he had that charm, that ambience—that despite his silver-donned and black outfits, he had a key to every secret told to him and kept it hidden as a promise.

besides that, he made you trust him with your whole heart, secrets and whatnot. he won't cheat, he won't fall out, and he'll love you forever.

he said it and you knew it.

you trust your friend.

she met eddie when you introduced her to him during one of his gigs, thinking harmlessly that they'd be good friends with their similarities: both metalheads, both ozzy osbourne worshippers, both nerds.

you thought they'd make great friends and they do. but doubts and you? eh, not so much.

doubt isn't a great friend. neither is jealousy. neither is insecurity. especially, insecurity. fucking bitch.

you didn't realize then that you'd feel... a heavy pressure on your chest seeing them interact. suddenly you felt jealous, a little left out, because you're thinking—what if eddie wanted a girl like her? a girl like him?

you do not trust yourself.

it's not like you're any different. you like the things he likes, but you like your own things too.

albeit the ache of jealousy never settles and to add salt to the wound, insecurity never hinders. never waves its white flag around. you don't like that they're in their own world talking about something while you're beside them.

"hey, babe?" the sobriquet makes you blush a little, turning away from your desk with a pencil in your hand. eddie tucks his neatly folded handkerchief in his pocket.

"yeah?"

"your friend's asking me to meet up at the hideout."

your blush dies into something pale and soon, a lifeless paint. "what, like, right now?"

eddie nods, shrugging his jacket on. "yeah."

you don't want him to leave yet. it's barely four pm. and you don't like the fact that she's asking him to hang out again for the second time this week. your lips purse and move to the side, diverting from his gaze. and had you not looked away, you might have seen his eyebrows furrow in curiosity; or suspicion.

"can you maybe stay for a little bit longer?" you ask, placing the pencil down.

with a soft look of concern, he approaches you, socked feet on the carpet of your floor. then his index curls around your chin and tilts your head up, his thumb tracing the left corner of your frown.

"why, sweet thing?" he asks quietly, fingers dragging up to tuck your hair behind and pout softly, his ring cold against your heating skin of embarrassment.

"nothing! it's just," you scratch at your temple, looking at his pale wrist, see the way his purple and grey veins twirl around his limb. "i just- want you here, 's all."

he takes his hand from your cheek to card his fingers through your hair, slicking it back before patting it down. eddie hums quietly like he's in thought, like he's settling for a hypothesis to choose in his head.

though it's been a couple weeks of something more, eddie has gotten you memorized in those years of longing.

"do you not want me to hang with her?"

"what?" you push back slightly, though his hand never leaves the top of your head. you laugh nervously. "teddy, why would you say that?"

teddy rings around his head like a guitar riff that lulls him to sleep. pink tinges his cheeks. "i know when you're thinking really deep, baby. i know when something's wrong."

he crouches down, between your legs, his elbows on your knees as he takes your face in both his hands and cradles it like the moon. "tell me what's wrong, baby, come on." eddie adds.

you sigh and look down on your lap, feeling his thumb stroke your cheekbone. there's a whimper that leaves you and your heart aches just a bit.

"i guess maybe i'm a bit jealous," you murmur. "because she's like you and i think that you like it better that she's like you...."

eddie's touch falters a little, but the warmth of his skin lingers on your flesh. you see how his eyes darken a bit in sympathy and disappointment—in himself, you can read. but you don't know why.

"sweets, do you remember when i asked you out on a date?" you nod. "and you asked me why and i said 'well, it's because you're pretty. and you're you, and you make me smile and you make me laugh and you make me cry and you make me do the stupidest shit in existence but it's okay because i do it for you'?"

you find it amusing how he memorized every word. you find it funny how you remembered that moment; between a shared joint and a movie. "yeah?"

"what i say still stands. i like it better when it's you. i like it when it's you. and shit, babe, i like it that you're kinda not like me. 'coz then i get to teach you. what's mine is yours, sweetheart. i'm happy to be the only one who introduces you into things i like," he takes your hand and brings your knuckles to his lips. "and i like it when you teach me what you like. makes me get to fall more."

"what's mine is yours," you quote from him. "okay, you sap."

eddie leans up to kiss you. your friend's in the back of your head now. and all you're thinking is eddie, eddie eddie eddie and you. and how he said that you're pretty.

BAD BLOOD - alhaitham

❝ band-aids don’t fix bulletholes, you say sorry just for show. if you live like that, you live with ghosts. ❞

summary: arguments with your rival, the scribe, are common but this time, he takes it a little too far when his words hit close to home

warnings: reader is gn, reader and alhaitham are rivals

notes: day 8! struggled a lot because i can’t write alhaitham for some reason so i tried my best. some references are from the bad blood remix cause i prefer that to the og song

taglist (open): @staretes , @rynnlvrs , @sentifua , @i-probably-sleep-too-much , @reilly34 , @qqingque , @akutasoda , @mhiieee , @starryshinyskies , @rintosae , @kazemiya

“and then he called my work sloppy! like, i’m the best in the akademiya! if you think you can find someone else who can do star mapping from memory, then be my guest!”

kaveh sighed at the way you were so upset over a dispute had gotten into, nursing his cup of wine. was it worth getting worked up over? maybe not but what made it worse was who you had said that to you.

“mhm, and who said this to you? crackpot old fools that archons know how long have been working in the archives. they probably don’t have enough melanin after spending more than half their lifespans kissing books,” he mumbled under his breath, taking a swig of wine.

“it was alhaitham!” you pointed at him with indignation. it was sort of comical to see the way his face contorted and how he choked on his wine, struggling to gulp it down by patting at his chest.

“why didn’t you say so sooner?!” he threw his hands up in the air, a stark contrast from the way he had dismissed your complaints. his hatred and rivalry towards alhaitham was unrivalled, maybe except to you. he knew the bad blood you had to him, though you both weren’t sure whether alhaitham harboured any to you.

ever since your schooling years in the akademiya, you had butted heads constantly, competing for the highest score in exams and winning favor of teachers. sadly, this had meant that you were both acknowledged to be the cream of the crop. you were both on a higher level than other students which meant that you were constantly paired for projects, to complement each other’s intelligence.

it had been okay at the start, speaking only when necessary, offering small snippets of suggestions here and there. but it eventually turned to something more when you started to hang out under the pretence of projects you had to do even though they had been long completed long ago. going on study dates, events hosted at the grand bazaar, stargazing. you both enjoyed each other’s company that was for sure, but your pride got in the way of expressing your feelings.

perhaps you could say it was a battle, a battle to see who would cave first and confess to the other and your competitive spirits were the what kept you both from pursuing something more. you had a deep admiration towards him, a feeling that you couldn’t describe and you know he had it too. but instead, it felt like he was rubbing salt in your wound and laughing right at you for deciding to engage in this battle of who could go the longest.

you were going to lose first, that was until an argument that you had both gotten into during your final year. you had messed up the major calculations for mapping by mistaking the vertical for the horizontal axis and had drawn on the map from the wrong side which causing you to mix the polar axis too. funny, how a single argument landed you both right here in this never ending cycle of insults and regrets, what caused bad blood between you both.

he hadn’t been understanding like most, geography was one of your weaker subjects and you still had about a week and a half to the deadline. his words were sharp like a knife, leaving scars in your back. usually he would throw insults your way and you’d brush them off, thinking that it was a part of his personality but in truth it did hurt you with pain ranging from papercuts to cat scratches but this time, it was multiple stabs in your back.

“maybe that’s what’s wrong with your life? you’re meant to be second-best, no in-between. after all, could you expect more of someone from your background?” he had said monotonously, though you felt the fury underlying in his tone. when you had gasped and shrunk back from him, did he realise his mistake. reaching out to you with a small frown but you slapped his hand away.

“i’m sorry, i’ll just…redo the whole project.” you had struggled to speak, grabbing the strewn papers on the desk and dashing out the library doors despite his calls for you to come back.

the tears that had threatened to brim in your eyes spilt, blurring your eyesight as you ran aimlessly to nowhere, clutching the blueprints with his handwriting elegantly written on. what was shiny, now all rusted from the blood you spilt that had gone cold.

were you overreacting? maybe. should you have done the project by staying up nights to get a perfect grade, presented it to the class by yourself while avoiding alhaitham entirely? probably not. years later, those kind of wounds were the ones that lasted and lasted.

the both of you had problems and you think you couldn’t solve them. he had mumbled a halfhearted sorry afterwards, though you knew that was just for show, he had practically lived with ghosts until kaveh started to room with him. you had forgiven and forgotten about the way he had made you feel, but you would never let it go.

kaveh watched you finish the cup of wine in one swallow, a bit hesitant to speak his mind when you were in a sorry state as his eyes looked to something in the distance. “i think…i’ll go get us some more wine.”

you merely nodded in thanks, grabbing the half finished bottle on the table and peering into its interior boredly. it was sad, to think about the good times he and you had. but when you looked up, it’s not the architect but alhaitham himself in the seat opposite you with an awkward frown.

“can we talk?”

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Don't Blame Me (Pt 5/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

A rescue and a second chance

Warnings: cursing, mention of violence

It was a strange feeling, regaining consciousness. You hadn't been knocked out since you were a human and considering you had several years under your belt since then, re-adjusting to it was strange.

The ache in your shoulder told you that bullet you'd been clipped with was a devil's trap one. You strained your neck down to look at the straps holding you to the table and recognize the language,Enochian. Fuck you were screwed.

You heard footsteps getting closer and knew better than to attempt to pretend to still be out. Instead you decided on the false bravado act, you'd perfected it your first hundred years or so on the racks “Why is it you fella always feel the need to strip a gal down? While I do appreciate that you left the bra and panties that was a limited edition Led Zeppelin shirt. If you fucked it up I'm gonna be pissed” 

The laugh that hit your ears made the skin on the back of your neck crawl. How fucked do you have to be to make a demon get the ick? “I heard you had that mouth on you. I see why Winchester and Crowley like you”

The demon finally came into view. He was wearing a skin head as a meat suit. Dude even had a certain nazi symbol tattooed on his ball head. No wonder he set off your creep radar “Don't know if you got your signals crossed but hello? Demon. Dean doesn't exactly want me anymore as for Crowley I come in handy to have around but at the end of the day I'm just his pet hunter nothing more”

You saw the knife when he picked it up and nearly asked him if he had forgotten you were a demon too until you saw the holy water vial. You  struggled against the straps but that sent a jolt of pain through you so you were stuck watching as he first wet the knife with the holy water then dumped salt along the blade. He sent you a smile right before he slammed the knife into your leg closest to him.

You didn't give him the pleasure of a scream. You did however bite into your cheek hard enough you caught the taste of blood on your tongue. He didn't seem put off by your refusal to scream, no he seemed to enjoy it. 

“Tsk tsk tsk. Don't underestimate yourself Y/N. You've been Crowley's right hand woman for years. You fast tracked your way off the racks and even managed to get your original body back. Even the big guy was impressed with that” your breathing was a little haggard from the effort to keep your voice steady as you said “Oh poor Luci. Stuck in the cage and seeing a hunter get pulled out of hell. Must have sucked for him”

That seemed to strike a nerve because the next thing he did was retrieve the holy water vial. He kept his eyes on yours as he uncapped the vial then twisted the knife in your leg before pouring the holy water into the wound.

It felt like flames were gnawing through your bone and the scream that escaped your lips echoed off the walls. A grin split his face “Attagirl. Let's see if we can make ya scream like that some more” “I spent three hundred years on the racks. Bring it asshole” You spoke through gritted teeth. He shook his head and walked over to a table in the corner of the room “Careful what you ask for”

 

“What are we looking at here Crowley?” It was the first time Dean had spoken since they got to where you were being held. “Dozen or so demons. Lucifer's last two remaining hellhounds” 

“Hellhounds?” Sam asked about the time a puff of air alerted them to a presence at Crowley's side. He reached out and patted what looked like air to them but they knew it was a hellhound “Don't worry boys. If they're between this one and Y/N they don't stand a chance”

Dean hated hellhounds. Death by them would do that to you but this once he let his eyes linger on the empty space where Crowley's hand rested “You take care of the other hounds we'll get the rest” a low growl was the response he got and Crowley nodded “I think she agrees with the plan”

He looked back at Sam “No one gets to smoke out. They were dead the moment they touched her” Sam nodded, gripping an angel blade in his hand “Let's go get her”

You could feel tears drying on your face. Flashbacks of your first couple decades on the racks ran through your head. You had to hand it to Skinhead, he was creative. 

He placed one of the tools back down on the table, it was slick with your blood. “What's the point of taking me? The point of torturing me?” 

He grinned again “Crowley will come for you. The Winchesters will come for you. We kill them and get the big guy out with no one guarding hell” you shook your head “No they won't. I'm nothing to Crowley, just another flunkie and as for the Winchesters you fucking idiot I'M A DEMON. THEY KILL DEMONS!” 

You groaned with pain from the effort of yelling at this idiot. Lucifer sure knew how to pick em didn't he? 

Your head fell back against the bed with a heavy thud. Skinhead went to grab another toy but the sound of a howl echoed through the building, you knew that howl anywhere. Juliette.

He looked back at you “How the hell did you get a hound?” You grinned despite the blood you knew stained your mouth “Just lucky I guess” 

He grabbed an angel blade off the table and looked back at you “You'll be dead before she ever reaches you” your eyes widened looking at the blade but then another sound caught your ears, the sounds of fighting. You could hear a  shout about the Winchesters. He'd come for you, black eyes and all he'd come.

You cut your eyes up at skinhead “Doesn't matter cause Dean will rip you apart” he raised the blade and went to plunge it into your heart.

—-------

Lucifer's hounds were dead, along with most of the demons. Dean was fighting one when it went down to the floor, a spray of blood separating its head from its shoulders then he felt a large head nudging at him. It was eerie being that close to a hellhound but then a thought occurred to him. 

He looked towards the feeling of the head despite not seeing anything besides dark blood dripping to the floor. He wanted to ask if the hound was hurt considering you had a bond with her but he couldn't exactly see and Crowley was with Sam disposing of the rest of the demons. 

“Did you find her?” a low growl responded so he nodded “Lead the damn way” He felt teeth grab his jacket sleeve and despite it all let himself be led further into the warehouse before the teeth were gone from his sleeve and all he saw was large bloody footprints leading away. She was running to you.

—-------

You braced yourself for a blow that never came, instead the demon was knocked flat on his back with Juliette on top of him. “JULIETTE!” You screamed. She was covered in deep gashes and looked like she'd been through a literal war but she was doing her best to keep him from getting up.

You lost track of the fight considering they'd rolled further than your straps would let you see but you could hear her growls. You struggled against the straps, tears streaming down your face from the pain. 

The moment the door burst open and Dean was there you heard a low whine and the fighting stopped. “Kill him” You whispered and Dean snatched the demon to his feet and slammed the demon blade into his throat before turning back to where you were tied down.

“She's dead isn't she?” He nodded before covering the space between you. He quickly untied you and pulled his flannel off to wrap around your shoulders. “You came for me?” You asked a mixture of pain and emotion threatening to drown you. His eyes flicked across your face looking for permission and when you sagged against his chest he pulled you into his arms “Even in death sweetheart”

You finally broke, demon or not you sobbed into his chest as he held you. “I still love you” you admitted and he kissed the top of your head “I still love you too. Nothing could change that”

—--------

Crowley and Sam burst in the door and looked around. Crowley's eyes landed on Juliette’s body “That's unfortunate” you sniffled harder laying your head back over on Dean's chest “Get me out of here Dean”

You sat at one of the tables in the library of Sam and Dean's bunker. It was technically a men of letters bunker that their grandfather had given them the key to, with them you didn't question the fact that their grandfather had been dead as long as he had.

Crowley had given the ok for you to go with them after he lifted the warding the witches had put on you. You'd been sitting for the last half an hour listening as Sam explained the fact that they'd found a cure, you had a chance to be human again. The bad part? It had a chance of killing you. 

Dean's arm was around your shoulders, your head against his chest. He hadn't spoken but every time Sam mentioned the risks his muscles tensed. Once Sam was through you nodded “When can you get the blood?” 

Dean's arm slipped from around you and he walked out the room. Sam looked from his retreating back to you “Do you want to think it over a little more?” You shook your head “My life, my risk. Go get the blood. I'll talk to him” he nodded and started to walk out but stopped then walked over to pull you out of your chair and into a hug “It's good to have you back” 

You smiled up at him “After this works i'll be back fully then” he pressed a kiss to your forehead “I'll be back soon”

—---------

You walked softly down the hall towards the room where Dean had showed you was his. You started to knock on the door but just walked in instead. He was sitting on the edge of the bed and glanced up when you walked in “It could kill you” “It's my life to risk. Dean I love you but a Winchester with a demon? That'll never work. I need to be me again fully. I want your support but if we really want another chance these?” You let your eyes slip then added “They gotta go”

He nodded then held out his hand to pull you closer. You were standing between his legs and he had his hands resting on your thighs “I need to tell you something” you leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his lips “I think I know”

He looked up into your eyes and damn he had tears in his. “They didn't mean anything. I just missed you so damn much” you nodded, feeling your own eyes tear up before admitting “I wasn't exactly a nun Dean” he flinched slightly “As long as it wasn't Crowley I'm good sweetheart” You laughed and shook your head “No Crowley” 

He pulled you forward causing you to have to climb into his lap to keep from losing your balance. He moved back further in the bed then looked up at you “You don't know how amazing it is to have you in my arms. I don't mean to be an ass about this cure but I've lost you once and it nearly killed me” you rested your head over in the bend of his neck and placed a kiss on his pulse “Then be with me for the cure. Hold me. If it goes south at least we get a goodbye this time”

 

The armory of the bunker had been cleared out. There was a devil's trap painted on the floor and Sam had made a decent looking pallet of blankets. When you questioned it he'd shrugged “It takes hours and you've got to be in it the whole time” 

You nodded then smiled “Thanks Sam” you looked back at Dean who grabbed your hand “C'mon sweetheart..I'm with you”

—-------

Dean was scared. He had just gotten you back and now he was holding you in his arms while you were washed down in sweat, your entire body shivering with every breath you took.

You slowly opened your eyes and looked up at him from where you lay in his lap “I'm ok Dean. I'm ok” he smiled despite the thoughts in his head “I know sweetheart. I know”

—---------

“Last shot” Sam announced, injecting you with the final vial. You inhaled sharply, curling into Dean. “Fuck it hurts” you whined and he rubbed your back soothingly “Just breathe baby. Breathe”

You weren't sure if hours or minutes passed before the shivering and pain stopped. You slowly looked up at Dean who pushed your sweat soaked hair back from your face. “How are you feeling?” “Tired” you whispered and he nodded to Sam “Give me the vial”

Sam held out the holy water and Dean looked to you for permission. You held out your wrist, bracing for pain but this time there was no burning or pain. The holy water was just wet. 

“It worked” you breathed before laying heavily on Dean “Will you help me shower then take a nap with me?” He laughed lightly “I'll do anything you want me to”

You were laying in bed, curled up against Dean's chest. It'd taken you a day or two to convince him you were healed up from the cure but when you finally did it was like no time had passed. You'd stayed wrapped up in each other for hours, relearning every inch of every curve of each other's body. 

“How the hell did I get this lucky?” Dean asked and you smiled sleepily up at him “Someone somewhere must like you Winchester”

He caught your lips in a kiss before pulling away. “Come back” you whined but he laughed as he reached into the table next to his bed. When he turned back you saw he had something in his hand. He uncurled his fingers so you could see the silver ring sitting in the palm of his hand “Can this go back where it belongs?” 

“I can't believe you still have that” you whispered in shock before holding up your left hand “Please” he slipped it onto you then kissed your finger “I love you” “I love you”

He grabbed you by the hips and pulled you over on top of him. You straddled his hips and smiled at him “You don't know how much I've missed you” you leaned down to kiss him but before your lips could touch Sam knocked on the door and hollered “Can you two come to the library?” 

You looked back at the door then down at Dean “He still has shit timing doesn't he?” He laughed then flipped the two of you over so he was on top of you “Don't worry. We'll see what he wants then come back to bed”

You walked into the library with Dean's arm around your waist. Sam sat at the table with a large wooden crate right in front of him.

You raised an eyebrow “What ya got Sammy?” He motioned “It's yours” Dean walked closer to it with you and you saw an envelope with your name. You picked it up and it simply read “So it turns out you weren't the only one to get another shot. Figured she belongs with you” 

You looked at Dean who'd read the note with you. He shrugged then walked to the crate. He cautiously pried the top off then looked in and a laugh fell out of him “C'mere baby” you walked over and looked in. A German Shepard puppy sat inside and the moment you popped your head in she sat up and barked, you cut your eyes at Dean who shrugged before looking at the puppy “Juliette?”

She barked again and you couldn't help but laugh as he leaned over and picked her up then held her out to you “Looks like she found her way back to you” You took her in your arms then he slipped his arms around you both, scratching Juliette’s head.

“I found my way back to you so stranger has happened” Dean placed a kiss on your cheek “We're together that's what matters, even if we now have a puppy” Juliette barked again and he laughed “Yeah yeah yeah. I hear ya” 

@starkleila @lacilou @suckitands33 @lyarr24 @decadentstrangernacho @nix-rose @irgendwas122 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @tas898

Okie! If requests are still open, I'd like to see what you think of this scenario:

Beach vacay, reader gets a sunburn (can be mild or lobster-y)

How would Ryusei, Reo, and Kunigami help their bbg?

Thank you!

Ps, I LOVED the "ily" hc you posted! They were very cute 😍

hi again! i’m glad u enjoyed the other request! and thank u for another req 🤭 this one hit close to home bc i literally just got a sunburn the other day but anyways i hope u enjoy!!

warnings: reader is suggested to be a girl in reo’s

characters: shidou, reo, kunigami

shidou

- ABSOLUTELY laughs at you.

- and just know that if you get on his nerves he will smack your sunburnt part

- might feel bad depending on how you react

- brags about how he doesn’t burn and only tans after laughing at you

- i would say tell him to shut up or something but once again he will smack your burn

- once he actually sees you upset he will start to care a little bit

- doesn’t really help with the burn though, he just treats you nicer

shidou had just gotten out of the shower, hair damp and towel around his naked waist, when he saw you wincing and breathing out a small ‘ow’ while putting on aloe. his carefree stroll immediately stopped while his posture slumped, his cocky face turning more serious at the sight. he gave another sigh as you winced once again at the pain before walking up to sit in the space next to you.

a small smirk decorated his lips at the glare you send his way, expecting him to start adding more salt to your wound. “hey, hey, i’m not gonna do nothin’. my baby’s in pain and i gotta make em’ feel better.” he spoke with a suave voice, snaking an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to place a gentle kiss on your neck. as much as you hated to admit, a few kisses from him definitely did make you feel better.

after a few more kisses from him you decided to end it there, your eyes roaming to his still naked lower body. you sighed, giving him a soft kiss on the lips before pushing him away, turning your attention back to your bowl of aloe vera. “go put your pants on, ryu.” he huffed, not wanting to follow someone else’s orders, going straight back in for your neck to pepper some rough kisses on your burnt skin. good luck with that.

reo

- he makes sure to keep your skin protected at all costs

- buys you expensive sunscreen and always tries to bring some source of shade because he doesn’t want you burning

- but it just so happened that you guys had been a part from each other when you got the burn

- when you walk in to your shared place with reo he just sighed, dropping everything he was doing to go get aloe

- scolds you while making you sit on the bathroom counter with him rubbing aloe into your skin

“this is why i should’ve gone with you,” he sighed, scooping up a clump of aloe before gently rubbing it on your thigh, his face in a focused frown. you remember him whining about how he wanted to go with you. you knew the real reason he wanted to go with you was to see you in a bathing suit and get to put sunscreen on your bare skin.

“it would’ve been weird if you had gone.” you sighed right back, tired of his complaining. “you would’ve been the only guy, weirdo.” you stated, watching his brows furrow as he raised his head to look at you with an offended face.

“i can be one of the girls!” he exclaimed, drawing a laugh out of you. you could only rake your fingers through his hair before patting his head. he sighed at the lack of response, eyes dropping once again to focus on your burnt leg. he would come up with another complaint in the next five seconds.

kunigami

- would probably be a worrier like reo except less extreme

- he would always try to put sunscreen on you when you were out in the sun that day

- he gets distracted that day, however, meaning he didn’t get the chance to remind you to put on the protectant

- feels HORRIBLE once he checks back in on you and sees you burnt

- immediately takes you home, occasionally cussing under his breath on the way home for his lack of notice

- starts a cold shower for you

“i should’ve remembered,” he mutters under his breath as he turns shower knob, water immediately following afterwards. he’s been like this for the past ten minutes, constantly muttering something new that he should’ve done.

“ren, love, it’s okay. the burn isn’t even that bad, babe. besides, i should’ve been the one to remember, so stop blaming yourself.” you finally sighed out, voice soft as you tried to comfort him by rubbing his arm. he turned over to you, face still in a frown as he saw your reddened state.

“it’s my job to remember, but i’ll stop.” he let out a deep sigh, bending down to pull you into an embrace. one hand wrapped around your back to rest on your waist while the other rubbed your upper back. “go ahead and get in, i’ll join in a few.” he said after a moment of silence, placing a small kiss your shoulder before pulling away from your arms. you made sure to give his arm an extra squeeze, a reassurance that it was okay, before he walked off.

unedited thanks for reading!

Any headcanons for Wolfwren?

this turned into a whole thing but such is my right <3

///

Shin lets Sabine paint her meditation room on the ship, says “whatever” when Sabine asks for a color scheme but sits there pretending to meditate as the painting happens.

Hair turning shades of other colors, breath rasping through a protective mask as she pretends to ignore Sabine's work.

Canisters of paint lined up for her to trip over at the door.

Shin keeps her eyes closed - she meditates - touching the odd, oily, burning surface of her indistinct region of the Force. A landscape of light and dark behind her eyes.

Anger and peace balanced against the sound of a name in her mouth, against Baylan’s death and the girl who picked her up after it, who told her to run when they both had nothing to run toward.

“Not green”

Shin listens to the squeak of Sabine’s boots on the wet floor as she about-faces to find Shin with her head tipped back, eyes still closed, the ghost of a sneer on her mouth. Sabine calls it her default expression, but Shin doesn’t think she’s bothered by it.

She kisses her often enough, despite. despite.

Shin can sense her, of course. picked out clean by the Force. Wearing her armor even though they’re out in the middle of nowhere, drifting in space.

When it’s quiet (and Sabine rarely allows it to be quiet) Shin can hear the dings of tiny rocks against the hull, so small that they don’t register with the shields that protect against space debris.

Odd, how a small thing can slip into your life. Strange how it can become so large when cupped in your palm.

“Why no green?”

Shin dips her head, rolls her shoulders. Pretends that the movement is just meditation and not hiding.

“Elsbeth,” she says. Always a thing - woman, Sith - of few words.

How to say that green makes her want to lay down next to his body again? That she can still feel the putter of his life slipping out through the wounds in his body?

She can still feel the hands that lifted her up for no good reason and carried her to safety.

“Okay.” Sabine nods, her face fixed with that stubborn look she gets around jars neither of them can open. The sound of painting replaces the sound of Shin loving her just a little more than she did before.

///

Shin likes brighter shades of red; arterial, like a splash of blood on white. Or the orange hue that hid inside her saber.

She likes purples, browns, pinks; not for herself but on Sabine, on the ship, their ship. The wings, for example, are outlined in pink.

A color that means “we’re home” and “i’m sorry I did all that. things I can't even speak aloud.”

The purple-red of Seatos; a wound with bruised edges and that bitter blue-gray ocean. The stones slicked with salt.

When Sabine asked to paint for her, she’d thought it would be the usual thing. Just a color on the walls. But then she saw the practice sketches spread over the table, Sabine gathering them up hastily when Shin walked inside.

She's never sure what to expect from Sabine. Taken off guard by that first kiss, the hands so gentle-sore on the neck of her shirt dragging her down, down.

Baylan used to test her reflexes by dropping things behind a cloak. A black expanse of fabric that he strung up in the hallway on the old battered ship they spun through the space together.

He'd drop things behind the cloak to see if she could sense them and catch them before they fell.

Usually just metal spheres, but sometimes he’d drop candies and her hand would arrive back to her with a sugar-stickiness in it. Baylan rarely gave praise, but they were both silent creatures about care anyway and it was okay and it was fine and it was sometimes sweet.

Shin making him a cup of caf in the early morning because she never slept, could never hold onto sleep. Torn up by nightmares or worse, memories. The caf machine made a sound that felt like home, and Baylan would nod when she passed him a cup.

The family of him was quiet, vanishing. Just a wayward pat on her helmeted head when she came back from a trip through an asteroid belt in her fighter.

When she grew up, he gave her the cloak. It was too big for her, but warm.

There were days when he got sad and did nothing but stare out the viewport into space. Shin hated those days, jogging by herself on the lower deck. Practicing her lightsaber forms alone.

It helped sometimes to prod him back to life with a question, but not always.

Don’t describe it as empty, he’d snapped one day when she stole up beside him to ask why he was staring out at nothing.

Shin with a scowl. I said ‘nothing’; not empty

And there’s a difference?

She shrugged her scrawny shoulders in the sweater she had that was more darned than not, by then. They so rarely stopped in port and when they did shin wanted books, not clothes.

She knew that there was a difference between nothingness and emptiness.

She was nothing, for example, but full of blood and dreams and facts from old books.

Shin only shook her head, padawan braid short and knocking at her neck.

No, master.

When Sabine asked, Shin told her color didn’t matter to her. It was just another thing.

Another distraction, she’d explained, gnawing on a piece of bread while Sabine cooked some sort of protein scramble made with algae. It came out blue and rubbery and delicious.

“What about your fighter? The one you flew over Seatos.”

“From that time I tried to kill you?”

Sabine’s shoulders shook with laughter. Her armor was very beautiful.

She half-turned to show the profile of her face and Shin almost choked on a mouthful of bread.

“Yes, Shin. I almost blew all of you guys to pieces.” She frowned, “If Ahsoka hadn’t deleted my presets.”

“I borrowed that ship.”

“Really?” Sabine turned, skillet in hand, already spilling blue algae onto the floor.

Shin flexed her fingers and the handle floated free of Sabine’s grip. “Let me do that.”

And Sabine let her.

“So, you didn’t borrow that particular ship for any reason? It was just… random chance?”

Shin sighed, stabbed at her food. “I-I liked the yellow parts. At the front.”

That drew a triumphant smile from Sabine, undermined by the scab on her lower lip where Shin bit it open last night.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She does. No greens once Shin mentions it. Instead, Sabine paints the red trees from Seatos. The suggestion of the pale grasslands on Lothal with a cat crouched inside, the tips of its ears visible.

There is no point in mentioning, Shin thinks as she watches the scene unfold, that she loves those cats. Tried to pet the wild ones on Lothal and came away with bleeding fingers, grinning under the cowl of her hood.

Sabine paints little fighters against a black sky, picked out in yellow and blue and red and orange. Stars among them.

The pretense at meditation gives up on her halfway through and Shin just watches through a paper-thin shield of Force as Sabine works.

The colors from her spray canisters fetch up against the shield like waves dancing over the surface.

When they’re done, Sabine is wet with paint and wild with glee as she drags Shin out into the hall. Smears Shin’s cheek with paint as she pulls her mask away from her mouth.

“There, now you can brood in style.”

“It’s not-” she starts, but Sabine stops her with a kiss.

Sabine has always been able to stop her, hands leaving lines and smudges and fingerprints of color on Shin's face, her neck, her hips.

“I love you,” Sabine says when she pulls away. She's very good at saying that now, though it took her a while.

Shin tries to duck her head, but finds Sabine's hand stopping her. Her breath falls out of her, ghosting over that palm.

Love, like trying to catch what you can’t see; what is too close and too bright to anticipate.

Shin’s voice is faint, but it’s not empty and it’s not nothing as she says, “Okay then. I love you too.”

Hello jayjay...

I asked about requesting and then disappeared 😅 life got a little 😵‍💫😵‍💫 for a minute

Anyway 👉👈 if you're still up for something angsty could I request riki comforting you after a break up?

Like he thinks you're crying because your ex broke your heart when he dumped you but in reality you dumped your ex because you realized you were in love with riki, your best friend. Your heart is broken because of the impossibility of you and riki being together 💔

Like imagine riki being so sweet and taking care of you getting you your favorite snacks and letting you cry on his shoulder and him trying to distract you and make you smile with his silly antics and all the while he thinks he's making you feel better when in reality he's just reminding you why you love him so much which just adds salt to the wound because you know you'll never be able to claim anything more than friendship with him 🥲🥲🥲🥲

▪︎ 🧈bttr🧈 ▪︎

a/n: IM SORRY THIS TOOK A BIT! i got food poisoning LMAO and i had to do my lab

come up with lies - nishimura riki x gn! reader

MASTERLIST

wc- 350?? 500?? i am not sure

warnings- ANGST

you found yourself at your best friends door after you had dumped your boyfriend…

the breakup did not go smoothly in the slightest, your ex knew exactly why you were dumping him which led to your ex becoming aggressive.

you can still remember your his words clearly, “it’s because of him huh? everyone told me not to date you because of riki. but i decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. now look at me.”

you took a deep breath and knocked at his door, almost immediately riki swung open the door, he was expecting you as you texted him that you and your boyfriend broke up. he pulled you in a hug and you couldn’t help but start crying.

the sight of riki was making you cry, your heart hurt more seeing him than when you were breaking up with your boyfriend. the grip on your best friend’s jacket strengthened. riki patted your head and tried to calm you down. eventually you both pulled away from eachother and he led you to his room.

you sat down and rubbed your eyes, he knelt in front of you. his eyes looking into yours intently. which never failed to give you butterflies.

“you wanna talk about it?”

you looked at him, part of you hated him, but that was just your brain projecting. you hated yourself because you were in love with him.

“i cant right now…” your lips curved into a frown and you looked away from him. you couldn’t even talk about it with him.

for a long time you wanted to tell him how you feel, however, there was no signs he liked you back. hell, even if he did, he couldn’t date you. or give you the relationship you wanted with him.

nishimura riki worked his entire life for his career, you’d be selfish to let him risk it for you.

“here.” he stood up and walked to another part of his room, riki started digging through his closet. he spent a good couple minutes digging and humming. your heart hurt watching him.

it was crushed when he threw one of his hoodies at you. you caught it and he turned around smiling at you.

“you love my hoodies! you can have that one okay?”

your response to this was to immediately start crying again. riki’s face fell again.

“y/n if it smells that bad you could’ve told me!” he tried to joke but you just kept crying, letting the hoodie fall beside you on his bed.

riki watched you as you kept weeping. he sighs, hating seeing you this hurt over your ex… what could possibly make you feel better?

oh! he knew!

you watched as he walked out of his room, you eyed his hoodie to the side of you. you shouldn’t put it on, you shouldn’t give in to hurting yourself more. but you loved him. you think you’d always be in love with your best friend. you took a deep breath and put it on.

when he walked back in he had a bowl of ice cream with a ton of candy sprinkled on.

“i wasn’t sure what you wanted on your ice cream so-“

when you saw how hard he was trying for you, your eyes started tearing up again. riki saw this and blinked a couple times.

what on earth was he doing wrong?

the truth was, he wasn’t doing anything wrong. riki couldn’t help he was an idol, and you couldn’t help that you were in love with him.

he sighed before pulling you in a hug again. you leaned into him and continued to weep. you were letting your heart break more as you gave into his affection.

“please talk to me about what happened with your ex eventually… i know you loved him a lot and it hurts… i’m so sorry… i wish i could make it all go away…”

every bone in your body wanted you to yell that you weren’t in love with your ex and that you loved riki himself more than anything.

but you didn’t

all you did was softly mutter an “okay..”

you’d figure out a lie to tell riki later, right now you just wanted to cry into him while he held you oblivious to the real reason why you were so distressed.

hi! i saw your mammon content and i swear i ran to ur profile to see if requests were open😅(ur mammon content is top tier🤌) Anyway! im like an absolute sucker for angst with comfort at the end, SOOOO i was wondering if i could request something where the reader is pinning for mammon, and tries to confess to him, but his brain went overdrive and went into full tsundere mode. he ends up hurting MCs feelings. then he feels bad and tries to make up for it. (sorry this is really long🥲) have a great day AND TAKE CARE OF URSELF <333

Of course! I’m glad you like my Mammon content and thanks for requesting. And don’t worry, it isn’t too long but sorry if this is a bit short. Hope you’re taking care of yourself too!

Mammon accidentally insults MC when they confess

Today was the day. You were going to confess to Mammon. You were GOING to confess. Even if the idea was terrifying. Worst come to worst, you figured you could just go back to the human realm if he rejected you. And sure, it wasn’t the greatest of backup plans but it would probably work. Hopefully.

“Hey, Mammon, could I talk to you about something?” You asked as the two of you walked home from RAD.

“Course.” He replied, wondering what you could be about to say that would make your tone that nervous.

This was the moment. This was the time. “Mammon, I - I really like you and I have for a while and I just - Mammon, would you go on a date with me?” You couldn’t meet his eyes as he spluttered. Maybe if you had, you would’ve seen his red face and the sheer joy in his eyes even as he schooled his face into a frown.

“Pfft, of course ya’d want to go out with the Great Mammon, human! Since I’m feeling generous, I’ll come with ya to eat, but it’s your treat, got that? And only cause I’m in such a good mood, otherwise I’d never go with ya. Ya can’t tell anyone that the Great Mammon agreed to go on a date with a weak little human.” That was quite possibly the most hurtful way anyone had ever agreed to go out with you. It was up there with Mr Darcy’s first proposal in Pride and Prejudice.

“You know what, Mammon?” You said, your vision growing blurry with tears. “I wouldn’t want to impede on your generosity so much. Forget I said anything.” And before he could correct himself, you’d sped off home.

He’d fucked it all up. Him and his big mouth, never thinking anything he said through. And now, he’d hurt you cause of it. He was an absolute idiot. His brothers were right. He was scum. He’d made you cry! Cry! He’d been so happy when you asked to go on a date with him, it’d felt like he was floating. But of course he’d managed to screw it all up.

You hardly talked to him at dinner. Or the next day. Or the next. He’d go into your room and you’d make a half hearted excuse about having to go see one of his brothers before leaving. He had to fix this.

You, on the other hand, were starting to think that you should’ve thought through your backup plan of fleeing to the human realm a bit more. You’d fooled yourself into thinking that Mammon actually liked you but apparently the tsundere act wasn’t really an act. You felt like an idiot. And of course he had to keep rubbing salt in the wound by turning up in your bedroom and walking with you to class even when you tried to shake him. And then, crows had started turning up at your windowsill. Constantly. They’d drop a shiny object, or even a whole wallet one time. As hurt as you were by Mammon, you couldn’t take it out on the crows. You accepted their gifts with a plastered on smile, gave them a head pat and some bird food, and then put the treasures in a shoebox.

It’d been almost a week. Why hadn’t you come to talk to him? His crows told him you’d taken the gifts. You’d even been giving them food! They loved food! They were even starting to bring you treasures of their own accord, instead of just at his behest. “Feathery little traitors.” He grumbled at one of them, after they’d given you a whole wallet. “You’re gonna make ‘em think it’s that guy you’re bringing them gifts from!” There was no other choice. He’d have to do this himself. He’d started leaving presents outside your door. Still no reply. This was killing him. He would have to talk to you. Properly. Hopefully he wouldn’t mess it up this time.

He went straight to your room. He’d been practicing what he was gonna say for an hour straight, there was no way he was going to mess it up. Also it’d been over a week since you’d last properly talked to him and he couldn’t take this any longer. It was downright cruel; he missed you. “MC!” He all but shouted, closing the door behind him. “I need to talk to ya. I’m sorry I was such an asshole when you confessed to me. I’d- I’d like to go on a date with you.” He could barely even bring himself to look at you, growing worried at the confused expression on your face. “‘N I get it if you don’t wanna go out with me anymore but please, please just talk to me again. I miss you MC. I like ya too. I like ya so much that I act like a total idiot around ya. And I’d get it if you hate me now but please, just give me another chance.”

He was caught off guard by a hug. “I’d still like to go on a date with you, Mammon.” Your voice, muffled against his chest but still strong, answered. Oh thank Father. Cause if there was one thing in life he didn’t want to mess up, it was this.

AN: I hope you liked this, angst to comfort isn’t really my specialty but I tried. Reminder to everyone that requests are open (I also have an event on) and comments are appreciated!

Preview for LF Ch 6

Just going to put this here. I wonder what's going to happen next...

---

He noticed that he and Luo Binghe sent the Peak Lord the same disparaging look over his actions, but Shen Qingqiu scolded them both and urged Shang Qinghua (who was apparently a very good friend) to recall his dignity and retake his seat. The man did and then quickly launched into how his connection to Mobei-Jun was actually a good thing as the demon would be able to support releasing Tianlang-Jun from his prison as well as providing a sanctuary in the case of them being caught.

“And why would he do that?” Liu Qingge asked, finding all this a little too convenient.

“Because, Liu-shdi,” Shang Qinghua said a bit too smugly for his taste, “he wants to marry me!”

“Someone wants you?”

“Qingge!” Shen Qingqiu snapped at him, even going so far as to rap his head with his fan, the action so unexpected that Liu Qingge didn’t even try to move. “Don’t be rude!”

Luo Binghe poured his master tea at the moment, very subtly hiding his face from everyone in the room. 

“Hey, I’m just as surprised as he is!” Shang Qinghua defended, bafflingly. “But my dream man wants me, so I’m just taking my blessings and running with it. It’s so nice, you know, to know that my feelings are requited. Don’t you agree, Liu-shidi?”

The rat man smiled evilly at him and Liu Qingge stiffened. To further salt the wound, Shen Qingqiu said, “Airplane, stop that. Liu-shidi will no doubt be able to find a partner once he finds someone he’s interested in.”

“You think so?” Shang Qinghua said dryly and Liu Qingge didn’t respond in time enough to stop the answer.

“Of course! He’s capable and honorable and quite good looking. He should have no trouble courting some nice young lady if he so chooses one day.”

“Young lady, Shizun?” Luo Binghe said, voice high and strained. 

“Obviously. It’s not like shidi is known for subtlety–no offense.”

“None taken,” Liu Qingge said, trying to not die right there from embarrassment. Shang Qinghua was visibly biting his lips and Luo Binghe was shaking head with pity in his eyes. There was really only so much a man could take, however. “We should speak. Soon.”

Shen Qingqiu frowned at him. “Are we not speaking now?”

…

Luo Binghe stepped in before the situation could get worse. “Shizun, we should get to the point of this meeting, no? Shang-shishu is very busy.”

“...right.” Shen Qingqiu said slowly, shooting Liu Qingge a puzzled look before shaking his head. “If there is something else, we can speak later, shidi. For now, we do need to discuss contingency plans. We will need to travel outside the sect with some regularity and have something to say to explain it. Three Peak Lords leaving so often will draw questions.”

“We tell the truth,” Liu Qingge said, happy to feel solid on this topic. “We say you are working to prevent things from the other timeline.”

“I agree,” Shang Qinghua said, surprising Liu Qingge. “But they will only buy it for so long. And Liu-shidi is not the only one who has… a less than charitable opinion of me, bro. They’re not going to believe me helping you when you have the War God at your beck and call.”

“Now you’re being rude,” Shen Qingqiu said, going so far as to throw his fan at Shang Qinghua’s face.

The Peak Lord just dodged it like it was expected. Luo Binghe sighed and got up to retrieve the fan as Shang Qinghua said, “I’m right and you know it! You need a better story that will have people not ask too many questions. Either that or explain the stakes to the Peak Lords.”

“And, what? Tell them that I’m trying to prevent the end of the world? That would just raise more questions and people will want to get involved!”

“The only way the world ends is if you end, Qingqiu,” Luo Binghe added as he sat back down beside Shen Qingqiu. 

“Don’t help me,” Shen Qingqiu groused even as he took the fan back and patted Luo Binghe’s head gently like he was a favorite pet. 

“So we give them something else to talk about,” Shang Qinghua said, his tone making Liu Qingge narrow his eyes at him. “Something fun and not related to the sky falling.”

“Such as?”

“Remember what I said when we went to visit Zhuzhi-Lang? No one is going to want you and Luo Binghe leaving the Sect together alone. So take chaperones.”

Shen Qingqiu’s face paled in anger. “We’re not courting.”

“Then you’re engaged.”

“No.”

“I have to tell you, bro: literally no one is going to believe that if they spend more than thirty seconds around you two together. He’s practically in your lap and you haven’t even noticed.” Shen Qingqiu frowned and Liu Qingge had to admit he had a point. The master and disciple were acting like their personal space was shared, not touching but that seemed to just increase the tension to the point that it would have felt easier if they were touching. 

Shen Qingqiu cleared his throat as he noticed this but doubled down and petted Luo Binghe’s hair again. This made the young man preen and smile, serving both Liu Qingge and Shang Qinghua a massive pile of dog food. “Well, if that’s the case, why would we need to leave the Sect if we wished to do something inappropriate?”

“Couples do go on dates,” Shang Qinghua pointed out. “And, especially for overnight trips, you’ll need someone else leaving with you at least. If not, then people outside the Sect will begin to talk to and before you know it there will be well known stories popping up about the Lord of Qing Jing and his favorite disciple.”

Luo Binghe scowled at that. “I don’t want Shizun’s reputation being tarnished, especially over things that are not actually happening.”

“It would be better if they were?!” Shen Qingqiu asked, voice high and more than a little alarmed. Luo Binghe shot him a look that had Shen Qingqiu shaking his head. “No, don’t answer that. Another option, Airplane.”

Shang Qinghua cut his eyes to Liu Qingge and said, “You know the best way to distract from one rumor? Make people believe another is true.”

so basically. i died. anyway days 10–14 of badsansuary :3 only more doodles and little blurbs of writing because, again, I Died :(

day 10: vibe check

this is like his love language or smth idk. bashing someone in the back of the head with a baseball bat <3333 (also whoa full body picture of my sona... yea their feet are paws mwahahha :3c)

day 11: rival

"stop!" jet screeches, kicking at dust defensively.

"stop—stop kickin' me!" he shouts back, leaning away from their kicking paws.

"not unless you stop beating my ass!"

dust growls, kicking back at jet while clutching his controller tighter, trying to focus on the tv screen despite the assault.

"not my fault you suck at smash," he spits, glaring over at them before his character hits jet's off the map once more.

jet cries out dramatically, wailing as the round ends and, once again, dust comes out the winner.

"i know you said you suck, but you really suck," killer quips from his seat across the living room, snacking on a chocolate bar. jet scowls, tossing the controller at his head. he easily catches it.

"let's see you do better." they roll their eyes, slumping in their seat.

as expected, dust wins once again. it seems to be his one skill, being good at this particular game. it's maddening.

day 12: haunted

ik papyrus is actually a hallucination but i think its funny if hes a ghost sometimes and its convenient for this little silly scenario so. anyway smth smth dogs can see ghosts whatever

"can you tell your brother to shut up?"

dust jolts, glancing up at jet where they sit, thrown over the armchair across the room.

"i... uh..." he stutters. the hallucination of his brother falls silent beside him.

"i mean, all he's been doing is, like, complain about you and complain about me and it's really annoying," they continue when dust doesn't say anything.

"you can... see him?" dust asks slowly.

jet scoffs, rolling their eyes and looking up at dust.

"and hear him. tell him to fuck off or something."

dust turns to the... ghost?? of his brother. ghost? he's not a hallucination?

"... could you always see him?" he asks quietly, if not a little annoyed. he thought this was a hallucination all this time, and it's actually a ghost of the brother he killed...

"i mean, he pops in and out, but generally," jet answers with a shrug. "he's really mean."

dust snorts humourlessly. yeah, like he didn't know that. he's the one papyrus has been cussing out for killing him.

as if to add salt i to the wound, papyrus decides to pipe up then, "I TOLD YOU, SANS."

"fuck off, paps."

day 13: shadow

i think its silly when hes like literally an eldrich abomination beneath his hood LMFAOOOOO

day 14: tears

just a coupla losers being goobers <33

"babe."

"hm?" dust grumbles as he rouses from his nap, glancing over at jet. they're surrounded by a pile of half-folded laundry. laundry day...

"look." they hold up one of his t-shirts. dust looks it over before looking at them again.

"what?" he asks with a yawn, stretching lazily.

"look!" they emphasize, sticking their finger through a tear in the fabric. dust sighs, sitting up.

"you woke me because there's a hole in my clothing."

"yes!" jet replies proudly.

"why?"

"cause, like, all of your clothing i've folded so far has been torn. to shreds!" they cry playfully.

"to shreds, you say?" he repeats.

"to! shreds!" they confirm, wiggling their finger through the hole for emphasis.

"so what'll we do?" dust asks, rolling onto his stomach and pillowing his skull on his folded arms.

"well, i guess you'll wear shredded clothing until you get more." jet shrugs.

dust shrugs as well, moving a little closer to burrow his face in their legs.

"'kay. can i go back to sleep now?" he rumbles.

jet huffs, patting dust's skull.

"sure."

Chapter four- Masks and scars

Warning: the last chapter was short and I wasn't very inspired, but THIS ONE, if you like the supernatural side of Vessel and his relationship with iii you will love this chapter. I really tried and it's the biggest one so far, please let me know if you like it🖤

After the dream you couldn't sleep anymore, not that that kind of thing had called your attention but you were worried about your problems. So after a few minutes you just put on an overcoat and went downstairs patting the back of your head feeling the hangover from last night. Your eyes ran around the living room and the couch looking for the figure of your dream, maybe it was all an imagination and he didn't even exist, but the noise of glasses in the kitchen said that you weren't crazy enough to dream about all that yet.

You walked in light steps to the other room and leaned on the counter attentive to Vessel's movements, he seemed to be trying to manipulate the coffee pot but he was doing it in the most wrong way possible, starting with the fact that he put sugar in the place of coffee, and salt in place of sugar. You were even finding the situation a little funny since it wasn't often that you saw such a clumsy stranger with a simple coffee, you was really willing to help the poor man.

-If it continues like this, our breakfast will be our lunch. -your voice was calm, careful, after all in your mind everything was very confused but you knew that after a whole night he didn't hurt you and that was good.

-I haven't used this for a long time, my friends and I hardly eat much in the morning.

-Well, and these friends are not worried? After all, you're in the house of someone for over twelve hours

-If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it already, wouldn't you? - You laughed with the comment, thinking about what chance you would have to do something like that since the opposite would be much more possible.

-You know, I dreamed about you, in fact it was more of a nightmare.

- Tell me I'm curious.

-You were covered in wounds on your back, they were scars but some were open and I could feel your pain as I saw you in the bathroom mirror, but you told me they were bar fights

Vessel pauses silently for a moment and one of the cups in his hand comes into contact with the floor causing several pieces of glass to scatter around the place, some end up hitting both of them in the feet making small cuts but he was still motionless and you pay attention to the man in front of you.

"I didn't say anything about myself to her, I didn't show her that, I wouldn't be such a fool to show so much of myself, I just didn't do that, it would be so wrong"

-Sorry-was the only word out of his mouth you could hear about that, however it wasn't about the cup but you wouldn't understand if he explained so Vessel just bent down and took a few pieces in his hand to scoop up the mess.

Your eyes traveled over his movements until he noticed something fall out of his pocket and a sudden movement on his part to pick it up again, it looked like a paper or a photo. You ran your eyes through the picture frames in the room until you realized that it looked familiar and it wasn't a coincidence, it was something you treasured very well. Without saying anything, you go to the room, in a specific drawer and a yellowish envelope at the bottom of it, just as you suspected the paper was not there, so it was in fact in his hands. You go back to the kitchen this time in a hurry and anger and quickly approach him putting your hands in your pants pockets.

-Where is it?

-I didn't understand.

-The photo! Where is it? -You pull the first thing you touch knowing what it was about, he just raised his hands as if he was being searched.

-This is uncomfortable, if you can get your hands out of there...

-Why? What did you want with that? How did you find it, after all, how do you know so much about here?! I didn't ask before because I was clearly drunk but you even knew my address!

-It's not the time for me to tell you anything, I'm sorry - his voice cracking, he knew that feeling.

-You first get in my car, force me to bring you here, say you know where I live, flirt with me, mention things like sacrifice and don't want to explain to me? And you still take the only photo I have of my father on the last day of his life? Are you sick by any chance?

-I think you better measure your words with me, I'm not crazy like you're making it seem.

-So who are you? Why don't you say who you are?

-I can't, I can't now.

-You must be one of Joe's sick friends, right? He must have set it all up as a joke, that's enough, take off your mask

You advance on him fighting his arms away from the object, he clearly didn't put strength, it looked like he didn't even want to touch you and that was irritating you even more. You finally put your hands on his face pulling the object that was covering him at once, but you dropped it at the same moment moving away, your conclusions were wrong, more wrong than possible, to begin with... he wasn't human.

The eyes of a fire yellow tone, but also reddish like blood, dark sockets, black as night, but it wasn't the color that made your legs give way to the ground, but the number of pairs of eyes on his face. They all looked at you in a ghastly countenance, the skin on his face was deeply scarred and his hair covered a little of the two pairs of eyes above the others. A cry of pain came out of the man's lips that made you move away even more covering your mouth not knowing what to show in front of that, now yes, now yes you were dreaming.

You threw the photo to the floor as you backed away and ran into your room slamming the door and falling back against it, stifling your sobs and fear against your hand. The thought that he was just a stranger in her house changed to "not human". You always maintained a skeptical posture with the supernatural, your mother told you about your father, said that man lived exploring the other side of this world, the spiritual world, but that in one of his discoveries something possessed him in such a way that he was in a coma. Doctors said it was a rare case of brain death, and your mother never forgot the last words he said before he never woke up, it was something like "Sleep arrives for some like rest and for others like punishment". However, no one took him seriously in his delusions, but otherwise you never believed in the spirit world in which such creatures could exist.

Your thoughts spun restlessly as tears coated the fabric on your body, you prayed that the sight had been a nightmare, you began to struggle with the idea of unlocking the door and facing Vessel, something in you told you not to be afraid. But you on the other hand seem to have hurt him after hearing the deep scream that came out of his lips. Footsteps approached the stairs, you grabbed your legs praying louder thinking that it was just a haunting, the steps slowly approached your room but you were already grateful that it was daylight, the light in your room made everything a little less gloomy, already the sun that reflected in Vessel's six eyes made you shiver. A familiar voice calls out your name, it was Joe, or at least it should be.

-Are you still sleeping? The kitchen is a mess and the door was open. Did you forget to lock it overnight?

-I must have fallen asleep with it open, Joe I'm going to the bathroom to take a shower if you can wait for me in the room I appreciate it -You tried your best to disguise the fear in your words, what if it wasn't really Joe?

Seconds later whoever it was had already come down and you cautiously unlocked the bedroom door. The hallway of your house was dimly lit even during the day, the lightbulb had burned out and you hadn't provided a new one, so the path to the bathroom still carried a sense of fear, as if at any moment something would emerge from the shadows. When you can turn on the light in the bathroom you find a new piece of paper under the sink, there was a dried rose and vines wrapped around the note, to read the words you had to push away the thorns, your attempt obviously resulted in your blood staining the note , however you managed to remove the plant.

"You must be crazy if you think that I will give up the game"

˖˖˖🖇·˚˖˖˖🖇·˚˖˖˖🖇·˚˖˖˖🖇·˚˖˖˖˖˖˖🖇·˚˖˖˖🖇·˚˖˖˖🖇

The sun had burned his pupils, he was a creature of the night, Sleep made him a creature of the night so why the hell was he walking around in daylight?

-Where were you? -that extremely familiar and sweet voice enters Vessel's ears and calms him down for a second.

-iii...

-Hmm? We've been looking for you all night, iv and ii are desperate and Sleep is furious, we feel unbearable pain for hours without you, what are you doing Ves?

-I'm sorry, I didn't want you to be punished because of me.

-FUCKING ANSWER ME! -iii grabs Vessel's clothes pulling him closer grabbing his shoulders, desperately seeking comfort, an answer, something, his skin was burning with agony and in these moments Vessel knew he was the only one who could calm him down.

-I love you, I wasn't going to abandon you, I'm sorry for that...-his words were interrupted by a desperate kiss, iii was still looking for contact with Vessel to calm his soul and this was their relationship, they knew a lot good of that. The need for carnal desire Ves met with the devotion and submission that iii offered, and a guilty feeling rose in his stomach as iii's hands brought him closer.

The bond that was created between the two from the moment they became vessels of Sleep, went beyond desire, Vessel always reached out to iii when he felt he was too tired or unsure. Realizing his partner so needy and worried hurt, but it would hurt more when he told about his days being numbered as a vessel and that very soon he would be replaced, but how to make iii and the others understand that this is the reason he ran away to seek human pleasures like the love of a woman. It would seem a silly excuse, but it was true, but once again he decides to fall into iii's arms, he wouldn't know how long he could enjoy this feeling of care, and after the disastrous event, all he needed most was that, comfort.

Not A Fool- Part 2

Part 1

Summary-It was an awkward kind of tension Ellen knew well, that awkward tension of the morning after the night before. Pairing- Implied ReaderXDean ~ Platonic JoXReaderWarnings- Swearing,Angst,Canon Divergence

A/N- Still sick and bored and apparently still writing. not edited. @cevans-winchester​

The hunt didn’t go well. It was a salt and burn, but it wasn’t a simple one. Ellen, Bobby, Sam and Jo were sitting silently around the table, Sam had called Dean after no one had heard from them for a couple of hours longer than they should of, Ellen thought her heart was going to beat out of her chest when she saw Sam’s expression. “Dean’s going to call back when they get to the hotel, they’re alright” Sam announced after hanging up the phone. “What happened?” Bobby barked. “There were three ghosts working together. They got the jump on them, but they’re ok” Sam cleared his throat not looking anyone in the eye. How did they miss that? Ellen knew you had to expect the unexpected, but three ghosts ? Ellen appreciated no one said out loud what they all were thinking, that (Y/N) would most likely be dead if Dean hadn’t insisted on going with her. The house settled into small talk and whisky, Sam was researching on his laptop while periodically checking his phone, Bobby was reading an old book, but Ellen hadn't seen him flip a page in awhile. It had been two hours since Dean called and Ellen, as she imagined the others were, didn’t want to be overbearing. “Mom” Jo called quietly from the door way beckoning Ellen to follow her onto the back deck. “What’s going on honey?” Ellen asked as she closed the door to the house. “I tried to call (Y/N) earlier and she hasn’t answered and I just tried her again and I called Dean too and he isn't answering either” Jo spoke quickly clearly panicked. “Joanna-Beth you know you shouldn’t call people while they’re hunting” Ellen put a hand to her hip sighing. “I know, but they should be at the hotel by now and-" “Why don't you go inside and get dinner started I’m sure the boys are hungry and i know i am” Ellen interrupted patting Jo on the shoulder. “What if somethings wrong, we should go there-“ “Jo" Jo opened her mouth to argue before quickly deciding to give up when Ellen gave her an admonishing look. Ellen crossed her arms as she watched Jo disappear into the house. Three times with no answer? Because Jo was right they should be well and truly back at their motel safe and sound licking their wounds. Ellen pulled her phone from her back pocket shaking her head at herself for giving into her own worries. The phone started ringing and the longer it rung the more Ellen’s heart rate quickened she was about to hang up the phone when the line suddenly connected. “Ellen” Dean’s gruff hard voice answered. “Dean, well thanks for checking in” “We’re fine” his voice was hard, he was breathing heavily and seemed very annoyed. “Ok, no need to be an ass” “sorry Ellen just… long day” Dean’s voice softened slightly “She's fine, i'm fine, we're fine” “I know that, I told you what would happen if you weren’t" “We’ll be back tomorrow” Dean laughed a little strained. “Ok boy, you get some sleep” Ellen hung up the phone without further investigation. Ellen had been so worried she hadn't stopped to think of the massive blow up those two surely had once they were safely back in that hotel room, if they even made it that far before the yelling started. Ellen tucked her phone back in her pocket and went to relay the news. ~ (Y/N) and Dean’s return was nothing spectacular. They were both bruised, cut and sore, though Ellen was having a hard time ignoring the deep purple bruise ringing around (Y/N’s) neck. She had asked but (Y/N) answered very vaguely, she was embarrassed about the hunt not being successful. Jo had hugged her tightly as she got in the door, they traded a look between each other in silent communication that even Ellen didn’t understand. (Y/N) looped her arm through Jo’s and cheerily announced she was starving as she shot Sam a smile and squeezed Bobby’s arm as the two passed towards the kitchen. Ellen turned her attention to Dean who was making his way over to Sam at the dining table, he looked like he hadn't slept a wink and there was a bruise on the left side of his face stretching from his temple to his chin, but he was grinning and making jokes to Bobby like his usual dumbass self. “Did ya miss me Sammy?” Dean asked as he took a seat at the table and swung his boots onto it. “You better get those boots off my table, boy” Ellen barked from the door way and tried her best to keep the smile off her face as he nearly fell off his chair in his haste to do so. It wasn’t until they were sitting down for lunch discussing the departure of Bobby and (Y/N)  then Sam and Dean in opposite directions that Ellen realised in her worry for their safety she’d missed a change in dynamic. Dean and (Y/N) were pointedly not looking at each other and when they accidentally did they looked away as soon as their eyes met. It was an awkward kind of tension Ellen knew well, that awkward tension of the morning after the night before and having crossed a line into a new territory you didn't know how to navigate with someone you probably shouldn’t have. As the afternoon unfolded into the evening and despite (Y/N) stubbornly trying to pretend Dean didn’t exist it didn’t seem so easy for Dean. He was sneaking glances at (Y/N) and still Ellen was finding it hard to get a read on him. Sometimes he looked regretful, others he looked thoughtful like he was trying to figure out his next move. A rejection was the easiest deduction from that, but the few times their eyes met each others it was pure heat, enough that it made Ellen uncomfortable to have intruded on it. Ellen took a deep breath, she wished she wasn’t so observant, that she didn't care so much about her daughters friendships and potential romances, but she couldn’t help it. Ever since she became a hunter she watched everything, It was hard for her not to read people. Ellen wondered how long Jo would take to catch onto the tense air between them, Ellen glanced over to her daughter, apparently not long judging by the strained barely hidden fury on her face. God Damn Dean Winchester. ~ It was 5am the next morning, sun just starting to peek over the horizon and still bitterly cold. Ellen was out in the old barn on the back of the farm, still close enough from the house to walk. She’d planned on chopping the last of the wood and bringing it to the house, the real reason was she couldn’t sleep. Ellen would lose (Y/N) today, she hoped (Y/N) wouldn’t be a stranger though the mother part of her hoped she would. Everyone had retired early last night and Ellen had seen Jo and (Y/N) talking, (Y/N) looked too content for it to have been about Dean. It made her angry, that this girl would hurt her baby like this, but when she was thinking more rationally she knew it wasn’t that black and white when Dean had already made his choice. Ellen startled at approaching footsteps, who the hell would be up this early?  “So if you’re on the road that means you can come visit me, yeah?” Ellen heard (Y/N’s) voice coming closer, Ellen frowned. Jo and (Y/N) used to go for early morning jogs, but Ellen didn't think Jo would be up for that. Ah. An ambush. “I dunno” Jo answered, Ellen knew that tone of voice very well, (Y/N) was about to get torn to shreds. “You dunno?” (Y/N) parroted back with a huffed laugh “What’s that supposed to mean?” “I mean i don’t know if I wanna visit my ‘friend’ who fucks the guy I’m into the second she gets him alone” That’s her girl, right for the throat. The footsteps stopped abruptly and an uneasy silence followed until (Y/N) cleared her throat. “What are you talkin’ about?” (Y/N) didn’t sound convincing in the least. Ellen knew (Y/N) and she knew she was a terrible liar when she wasn’t talking her way into crime scenes and morgues. Her heart just wasn't in it when she cared about you. “Are we really going to do that bullshit back and forth?” Jo spat, Ellen tried to catch sight of them through the gaps in the walls of the barn but couldn’t make them out. “Jo, you’ve got it all wrong” (Y/N) sounded resigned. “Oh, i’ve got it all wrong” Jo drawled sarcastically “What part have I missed, because i certainly didn't miss the puppy dog eyes he was throwing you all night, must have buttered his biscuit real good if- " “God, Jo we didn't sleep together” “I’m not an idiot” Jo’s temper was firing up more with every denial. “I swear Jo, i would never do that to you” (Y/N's) voice broke, she was begging Jo to believe her. “You expect me to believe nothing happened?” “No, i don’t" (Y/N’s) voice was full of shame she took a moment before continuing to speak “Look, the hunt was bad and we almost died, Dean was so angry and we- we started fighting and things just got…. things just got out of hand. it was just adrenaline, it didn’t mean anything” “Out of hand how?” Jo replied bluntly. “He” (Y/N) hesitated “He kissed me, ok. But like i said it meant nothing" Ellen heard shuffling. “Don’t touch me, you're supposed to be my friend, we were going to hunt together! how can i ever trust you again?” “You have to believe me, it wasn’t because it was me, it was just because I was there” That was a lie, it was definitely because it was her. “But it was you!” Jo yelled back, Ellen worried someone from the house would hear. “How is this my fault? he kissed me and i stopped it that has to mean something Jo!” (Y/N) was sounding more and more distressed the angrier Jo was getting. Jo didn't respond. “Jo, please” (Y/N) sounded near tears “I’m leaving today and I don’t wanna go like this, you're my best friend” “I can't" Jo responded quietly “I just can’t not right now” Ellen heard departing footsteps. Life was unfair, Ellen knew that. But it had to be some kind of joke for the universe to bring Jo and (Y/N) together and make them so compatible as friends and hunting partners only to have it all go to pieces when Dean Winchester showed up. Because Ellen knew Jo had feelings for Dean long before (Y/N) set foot in their front door, just as much as she knew Dean had feelings for (Y/N) long before Jo even knew she existed. It was especially unfair because this was no ones fault, but it didn’t stop how much pain her girl was in. Ellen wanted to be angry with (Y/N) for Jo's sake, but she couldn’t. Ellen heard footsteps moving closer rather than moving away this time and realised she didn’t have anywhere to hide quick enough. (Y/N) walked into the barn and stopped obviously surprised at Ellen's presence. “Ellen” (Y/N) blurted out before running a hand through her hair squeezing her eyes closed “Great" she muttered. “Didn’t sound like a great conversation” Ellen replied. “Didn’t take you for an eavesdropper” “Don’t get snarky with me" Ellen’s voice was firm, but she smiled kindly. (Y/N) took a deep breath before lifting her chin to look Ellen in the eye, hers were shining with unshed tears. “I-“ “Don’t have to explain anything to me” Ellen interrupted walking forward to rest a hand on her shoulder. “What should I do?” (Y/N) whispered. “Well, I don’t know if there is anything you can do, she’s hurtin’ right now and you’ve got to let her” Ellen wished she had better advice. “Come on, I think we need bacon” Ellen dropped her hand from (Y/N’s) shoulder and motioned towards the house. “I’ll miss you guys” (Y/N) admitted as they walked slowly down the path to the house, there was a light breeze and the impending sunrise really showed how beautiful it was out here in the country. “We’ll miss you too, you promise me whatever happens you give em’ hell” Ellen suddenly became serious, turning her head to stare at (Y/N) her (H/C) hair was blowing around her face she was too young for this and it broke Ellen’s heart. “I won’t make it easy” Her mouth quirked up slightly. “Good girl” Ellen shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. She hoped Jo would come to say goodbye, in this life you never know when it’ll be your last one. (a/n)- thank you so much if you read this, thought it would be fun to get down as I was rewatching supernatural while I've been sick. I sorta want to know what went down in that hotel room, so who knows there might be more. 

You opened this can of sardines for me the topic of employed Nolan/what is he gonna do now. Buckle in Buckaroos as I spout some nonsense.

1. He can go work for the NHL (kinda unlikely at this point imo). Despite not being able to play he seems to actually enjoy hockey still. His dad back in his early career had always said that he was a very analytical watcher, replaying parts of games over and over again to figure out what they were doing. I can see him somewhat settling behind a bench as a playmaker, and being a little shit about it. Like making the most annoying but legal plays. I can also see him becoming a bit of an advocate for players and head injuries considering what he's had to go through.

Even if not directly behind the bench or in the NHL there is a possibility for him to work with a smaller team or a more behind the scenes role. It would be private enough for him I feel.

2. Hunting (more likely). Even in pre NHL interviews he constantly brought up his love for the wilderness and hunting and possibly being a hunting guide. This I feel is the most likely possibility. Opening like a little Patrick's hunting guides venture. If I'm being a bit more optimistic and whimsical, an actual hunting store to sell supplies.

This might also mean more social media pat as he promotes himself. He's an advocate for ethical hunting and consuming so I can see him pushing that angle and teaching about how to respect and use the animals.

3. He has a tiktok, "Why the flyers can eat my ass (NHL exposed) Part 1 of 12.

4. Joins Mt. Joy (this is the crack fic one). He's close to the band, can play guitar. Why not? Write a few songs for them, date their pianist (I think that's her role?) Would b cute.

Sorry for rambling, but I do genuinely hope he ends up okay in the end and settles down well after everything he's been through. He doesn't seem like a bad guy and holy fuck has he been put through the wringer. I want him to be okay and succeed in something and not have everything he does be over analyzed by everyone ya know.

(Imma tack this on at the end, I agree at what he was getting with with the mailloux thing cause Trudeau absolutely sucks, but my god man has poor wording choices.)

Hahahaha living for the in detail post! Feel free to ramble I’m all ears.

I think jumping in an NHL job after what he had to go through would be pouring salt on an open wound, for now at least. Realistically it’d be a solid real job to have, tho it’s probably still gonna be way too much attention for him even if it’s behind the scenes. It’d give people too much to talk about. Would be pre sweet if he even took up coaching for a local team, whatever age really.

Please if dude was desperate for money or just to do something I was even thinking how he would probably debate joining his dad in real estate and work for him 😭😭😭😭

Don’t think money is an issue tho, cause he gives me vibes he’s pretty frugal and just living life lmao. Also Manitoba isn’t the most expensive place to live in to what I’m aware of.

Conclusion I really don’t think hes finding a job that’s about $$$ but something he enjoys and what he aligns with, so the hunting and fishing guide is 100% Though he has so many resources to branch out in multiple things.

wip w-what, it's wednesday already?

ty @aria-i-adagio for the tag (🧡), tagging @heniareth @hestias-cookies @dreadfutures @highwayphantoms and anyone else who'd like to play. lmk if you'd like to be tagged on the regular, or if you'd prefer not to be - no pressure.

I'm up to my ass in work rn (not complaining, except when i am) therefore little new stuff, and I am continuing to enjoy a massive crisis of confidence over my biggest wip, so.... have the hook and see what you think. Please feel free to validate me and/or tell me why it sucks, so I can get some precious, precious clarity, because arrrgh.

(February, 1788. The River Thames, below St. Katharine-by-the-Tower, East London.)

Not much left of the corpse could be called a man. Pallid, fish-pecked, and just beginning to bloat, it lay cradled in the Thames’ low tide mud, one more abandoned piece of rubbish in that yawning stretch of filth. Will grimaced. A sharp wind whipped at his coat, bitter with tar, salt, and a dozen other reminders of the river’s heaving trades. Across the water, the turpentine factory on the Southwark bank had begun its day’s work, yet even that did little to dent the tang of decay in the air.

“See, sir? Here he is. I told no lie.”

The boy who’d led Will across the foreshore jerked his head toward the body, then wiped his nose with the back of one silt-speckled hand. He didn’t look more than ten years old. His grubby shirt and breeches must have offered scant protection from the February morning chill, though he made a good show of not acknowledging the cold.

“Just like I said, sir. Plain he’s been cut, too, and that’s a murder. Reporting a crime’s a sixpence, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Will affirmed, his shoes sinking slightly into the mud.

The dead man lay on his back in a clutter of broken eel traps and driftwood, a few scraps of netting caught beneath him. A thick, black-lipped wound cleaved his neck. Sleet began to fall, the first sharp drips stinging bare skin. They bit at the backs of Will’s ears and patted against the corpse’s open, milky eyes.

Will glanced at the boy. He’d been full of chatter on the way down here; now his mouth was a furled bud of silence, his arms wrapped around his middle. Spots of mud on his cheeks stood out like freckles.

“You said your name’s Leary?”

The boy nodded, but didn’t look away from the corpse. A rust of bloodstains fouled the dead man’s shirt. He wore long woollen slops—once light-coloured, now mottled with filth—but his feet were bare and clean.

“And was he like this when you found him, Leary?”

The boy’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “I didn’t take his coat, sir! He had it when I found him, I swear it. And his shoes. Someone might’ve piked off with ’em, but it wasn’t me. I lark, but I don’t steal. Blue, the coat was. Dark blue.”

“Oh?”

“It’s true! Swear on the Bible.”

“Fair enough.”

It didn’t matter. The boy needed coin more than the corpse needed warmth, and the river had somewhat utilitarian rules when it came to property.

Not only was it unsurprising the dead man’s coat and shoes were gone, it was a miracle he still appeared to have his teeth.

.