coco-goat-milk

[coco-goat-milk]

Can u add me to the taglist pls 🫶

False Accusations (You know I KNOW right? Chapter Two)

Let me first say thank you for all the kind reception part one received. It was … a surprise, and a welcome one.

Also, a massive thank you to @sunnie-angel for beta reading. If you haven’t read their work… Do yourself a favor and check out their masterlist!

This Chapter takes place over a few days in two mini stories., and I would appreciate being told if at any point this causes confusion. Currently how I’ve done it is as tilted segments. Content warning: this chapter has themes of sexual harassment in the workplace up to the point of groping (from an OC), and corruption. Proceed with caution. Be safe.

The morning after. You are going to murder your partner, Grayson. Perhaps with a gun. Maybe your own two hands. Or maybe you just need coffee.

It's probably the coffee thing. Coffee, then you’ll decide if you're going to kill him and how. As you sit at your table, surrounded by notes you’d made at 4am, the urge to throttle Grayson slowly subsides. You hadn’t slept a wink. You’d had a weird night. But if you were going to do this, help him find this killer… you’d need a plan for if it all goes to hell. A diversion. A plan so that if you’re made, maybe the killer will think you’re on the wrong track. A dummy investigation. But simultaneously one that you won’t overthink, so that you can devote your time and brainpower to the truth. Luckily for you, you have the perfect person to pretend to accuse. After all, your partner, Grayson, is an incredibly weird guy. 8:55 am finds you walking into the station sipping your third coffee of the morning, only to find Grayson sat at his desk. Shirt pressed, tie perfect, hair shampoo commercial glamourous yet slightly messy. The urge to murder your partner returns, just a little. How dare he be so… normal? So unaffected? How dare this man fight crime by night, and be smiling at you as he is now, chipper and bright and perfect, before 9am? The nerve. Maybe you could hit him with a patrol car and claim it was an accident. “Morning detective… Long night?”

Oh.. This fucker. Your partner, Grayson, is the most annoying man alive. You hate how badly you have to fight the urge to grin at the sheer audacity.

She looks exhausted, the poor thing. Dick remembered the feeling, but at some point he’d adapted to running on less sleep than was by any means reasonable. He hoped she wouldn’t need to. That this would be over in a few weeks and she’d be back to getting a full eight hours. “Morning Detective… Long night?” She glares at him like he’s caused personal offence. He raises an eyebrow at her to prompt a response. Inside though, he panics. Had he done something wrong? Could she suspect? No. no of course not. But whatever she said next would surely be important. It was a test of sorts. What would she say she’d spent the night doing? Would she betray his alter ego? Could she sell the lie if she didn’t? “Just had a night in, had a little too much to drink,” she shrugs, opening her bag and removing a notebook. Casual, calm, partially true and nearly impossible to disprove short of a blood test or breathalyser, and even then there was deniability. Dick nods, and looks back down to his computer to hide the grin that splits his face in half. He knows he can’t dwell on it, knows he can’t act on it, but it’s completely unfair that she was that smooth. That helpful. She’d agreed to help him - as Nightwing - instantly. Her words about how Blud owed him a debt had played in his mind on loop for the rest of his patrol. He knew what it felt like to fly. To flip through the air at dizzying heights, gravity a mere afterthought. It was cruel, frankly, that he’d found someone who made him feel even better than that, only for her to be someone he couldn’t be with out of principle and professionalism. It wasn’t that he objected to her as a partner - short of his family, she was possibly the best he’d ever met. Frankly, if she was transferred to Gotham, the bat signal would be turned on far less frequently. And he didn’t object to rules about dating fellow officers, especially one’s partner. Objectively it made sense. But it didn’t change the fact that her smile was the best part of his day. That on the rare times she laughed he could swear he heard an angel just straight up quit its position in the heavenly chorus out of pure envy. That when she’d said she’d help he’d wanted nothing more than to grab her face and kiss her till she was breathless. But he can’t. Or at least Dick Grayson can’t. A new voice breaks him from his spiralling thoughts. “Detective Grayson.” The man standing behind his partner's desk has a hand on the back of her seat, preventing her from swivelling around. 

“We haven’t met yet, I’m Sergeant James McElroy. Seems you spent most of my first day back stuck on a stakeout.” “Pleasure.” he responds, with all the charm he’s learnt to use at galas and parties, forcing down the venom incurred by the way his partner had seemed to lose a gallon of blood at the sound of his voice, and the way she had seemed not to breath since the name was spoken.

He's not touching you. Of course not. He knows better than to do anything so blatant. It's how he’d gotten away with it for so long last time. He doesn’t touch you, or say the things he was so clearly thinking. He would masterfully walk the line between making you feel unsafe, alone, and naked, while never crossing over into anything actionable. Till one day he had. It had been in a crowded lift where he’d used the crush as an excuse to grab and to feel, whispering something vile in your ear. 

He’d figured he’d gotten away with it when you tried to tell your captain and he’d asked if you had a witness. You’d thought he’d gotten away with it too. Till a uniformed officer, Janet Rodwell, had stepped up to have your back. You should have known, really. For the second time in 24 hours you feel like a fool. But while the first time it had been accompanied with a dizzying realisation of love, this time the realisation is dark and chilling to your core. You’d thought you’d won, that it was over. But he’s back and he’s not touching you, but you feel the ghost of his hands all over. You can’t win. He’d been sent away and you thought you were safe again, but he’s back and he’s a sergeant now. Because Bludhaven, as it is, rewards men like him. You can’t bring yourself to look over your shoulder at him, so you look straight ahead, across your desk and to your partner’s adjoining one.

It's not Dick Grayson’s eyes you meet though. They aren’t cheerful, carefree and beautiful. Well, they are beautiful. But they are angry, intelligent, and fierce. You meet Nightwings gaze, and you feel the claws around your lungs relax, even if they do not recede. 

His partner did not rattle easily. Did not panic unnecessarily. 

Pinned down by the Penguin’s smugglers, he’d thought their goose had been cooked unless he could work at his true capacity, so he had shot out the lights and gotten to work. He’d taken out nine, but been unable to find the tenth, until he’d heard the struggle. 

She’d taken him down blind, without drawing her gun. When he’d asked her why she hadn’t, she’d told him she’d lost sight of him in the chaos, and was unwilling to risk it. He wished he hadn’t shot the light out so he could have seen it. 

Still, he had been oblivious. It had hit him like a batarang to the face last night, in that moment where she agreed without hesitation to help him find a serial killer. He’d known she was beautiful, and brilliant. That he had a crush. 

He’d realised last night he was in far, far deeper trouble than that. So, if she was frightened and upset by the presence of this man, then Dick would take his looming over her as a serious threat. He trusted her gut. “You haven’t introduced yourself to my partner, Detective—-” He’s cut off with a dismissive wave that boils his blood. “Oh we’ve met. In fact, she was my partner first. Until the misunderstanding.” There are many ways to snap someone out of a panic. He’s seen sheer rage do it many times. As it does now. “There was no misunderstanding,” she says, her voice firm, her teeth gritted. “Well. I want you to know-” he moves from directly behind her, to her side, leaning down over her, invading her space. Dick wanted to hit him. “I understand that what I did could have been seen as invasive, and you may have felt that I overstepped. I have completed a course, as demanded by HR, and will attempt not to cause you to feel that I have been inappropriate again.”

She takes a deep breath. He can practically hear her count in his head. He stands, moving around the desk to stand beside her, not quite a barrier but a comforting presence, or at least he hoped. “Well. Whatever occurred, we have work to be getting on with, if you don’t mind.” It takes a great deal of the restraint his training has given not to add the words ‘you bastard’, or something far more creative. “But of course. Detective. Detective.”  

Your hands shake as you sit back down in your seat. Your partner, Grayson, returns to his own, his gaze - Richard’s gaze, never leaving your face, crumpled in concern. “I don’t want to overstep… but are you alright? What … did he do?” “I…” you want to tell him, in part. Or maybe you don’t, and you want him to know without having to go through the ordeal of rehashing it all. Maybe by consulting whatever ‘oracle’ he used as nightwing. But you can’t right now. So you don’t. “I… need some air.” Your partner just gives you a comforting smile, a nod, and lets you leave without question. Wingding in the window 

It's five days later, on his patrol, when he notices it. The wingding left in her window. He stops on the roof of the building adjacent to her. As far as city roofs go, this one’s relatively nice. Someone’s placed some potted plants around, in an eclectic attempt at a rooftop garden. Some of these pots contain small pebbles as cover for the soil from the wind. Grinning to himself, he takes a handful. 

Was this a good idea? No. 

Was it deceptive? Well, no more than anything else he did as Nightwing… well, maybe a little more. 

But it hurt, holding her at arm's length, when a part of his soul he tried to ignore yearned to be as close as she would allow. He knows it’s not good. He knows it’s a violation of the utter trust she seems to hold in Nightwing. Really, it would only make things even more messy for his chances as Dick. But he wants to make her smile. Blush, even. He knows she finds him attractive, and in both contexts, but he wants more than that. Over the last week he’s realised just how much he wants to have with her, and it terrifies him. 

If it was simple lust he could deal with it.  But it wasn’t, and so here he was, about to attempt the cheesiest move known to hallmark films, just to see if it would make her laugh at him again. 

He’d managed to be professional while surrounded by highly capable, badass women in skintight clothes for most of his life. He’d had crushes before and gotten over them. He wanted everything with her. And that was not something he knew how to handle, given the mess of their situation. Dick shakes his head, snapping himself out of his doom spiral. He had a detective to meet, and a serial killer to find.

Bap. Bap. Bap. You look up from your book. You’d been getting ready for sleep, wearing your cosy pyjamas, curled up in bed with a book and a hot chocolate. You go still, listening. Bap. Bap. A pause. Then, the rap of knuckles on glass. “I ran out of rocks”

You know that voice. “With you in a moment.” You pull on a dressing gown, and take a moment to curse the fact that your slippers are rabbits before pulling the curtains aside. Nightwing is crouched on your windowsill. You lift it, stepping back as he enters through the window with all the grace of a cat. You know that you shouldn’t be embarrassed to be in your pyjamas, it's late, you had no means of knowing when he’d arrive. But he looked divine in that suit. An adonis. And you're in your old bathrobe and bunny slippers. Truely, you must have done terrible things in a past life. “Nice footwear.” Nightwing says with a smirk. Curse him. Curse his cheekbones and the way his lips look so damn inviting. “You picked up what, five rocks?” you sass right back. Nightwing makes a noise you suspect was supposed to be a scoff, but is more of a squeak. “Do you see a lot of pocket space on this?” 

“Fair.” you say, leading him out of your bedroom and into your living room. He sits on your couch, one leg spread wide, the other’s ankle resting on its thigh, as you open a drawer on your coffee table and produce your masterpiece. Nearly five metres of red string. Names, photos, dates, all studded with pins so pressed so tightly in they haven’t a prayer of accidental removal. You prop it up on the coffee table. 

Maybe your friends were right. Maybe you did need to touch grass. A line of thought for later. You look at Nightwing, who’s no longer relaxed and laying back on your sofa like he owned the place. 

Its years of maintaining a poker face in interrogations and more recently, dealing with his shenanigans that prevents you from grinning. 

He's as pale as you’ve ever managed to see him, and leaning forward now, elbow on knee and chin in hand. “Well, this is… impressive.” He sounded like he’d inhaled helium. “Shall we start with Sergeant McElroy?” you offer, smiling your best ‘there’s nothing wrong’ smile, enjoying making him squirm. “You seem to have … a significant amount of evidence against Detective Richard Grerson?” You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you take a ruler, poking your picture of him between the eyes. You hadn’t planned to do him first, you’d hoped to discuss evidence that would actually lead somewhere. 

This was still going to be fun though. You take a deep breath, and pause for a suitable level of dramatic effect, and begin your game. 

“Detective Richard Grayson. He’s my partner. He’s an excellent detective, and a good man. You might have heard of the charity he founded.” Nightwing makes a noncommittal humming noise. “But is it all too good to be true?” you ask, moving to your first notecard. “Exhibit one. He asked about the file. On its own, innocuous. But then, exhibits two through four. He’s prone to frequent disappearances on cases. He often knows a little too much about the criminal underside of Blud. Things that I have triple checked are not in any police database.”

You run a hand through your hair. “He’s a highly trained combatant. I once saw him take down nine men armed with guns, in the dark. They don’t teach that at the police academy.” “No? No.” Nightwing says, clearing his throat. “I mean yes. That is… suspicious.” “Incredibly. Which brings me to exhibit five. Now I’m no behavioural analyst or shrink. But I know my basics. Childhood trauma and instability can have… lingering impacts. I… don’t feel the need to dredge up his past, but I did look into it… and it’s grim. He was then taken in by Bruce Wayne. His relationship to his father, whatever it is, is something he’s even tighter lipped about then… everything else honestly. It’s not on the board because it’s circumstantial at best… but he has this skill of being able to hold long conversations and yet you come away not having learnt anything deeper about him.” 

He was pretty sure he’d been nodding for a good thirty seconds at this point.  

It would be funny if it didn’t hurt so much. 

The worst part was that it was all well reasoned. Practical. He had done everything she accused him of. She had just drawn a far more down to earth conclusion, that he was a corrupt cop, rather than Nightwing. 

It made sense. Too much sense. How could he shut this down without seeming invested in his own innocence? 

That isn’t what causes his lungs to burn though. No. The root of that was that even if he’d forced himself to maintain a professional - if friendly - distance from her, he would have hoped that she trusted him. 

But in this moment, looking at the evidence, looking at her holding that ruler to his photo’s face like a judge's gavel ready to condemn… he knows. He knows that she will never look at Dick the way she does as Nightwing, happy to see him, believing in his mission, ready to help as soon as he’d asked. Even if he clears himself of this crime, she would surely suspect him of others. 

He’d known it, at least on one level, ever since he’d first met her. He knows it now all the deeper, and he wants to scream. Dick Grayson will never get to tell her how truly wonderful she is.

How highly he regards her. 

How she is one of the reasons he keeps fighting for Bludhaven. 

Dick Grayson will never get to tell her that he loves her. 

But… perhaps Nightwing could have something. Because if she was his north star, then the way he’d felt when she agreed to help him had been like being engulfed by a supernova. 

If she was water, then seeing her cosy and ready for bed and smiling as she let him in through the window had been an oasis in the Sahara. 

If music was the food of love, her attempts not to laugh and stifled giggles over his peeps popcorn had been a symphony orchestra. 

But he’d never have her as himself. Not at all. Nightwing though? She at least found him attractive. Aligned with his ideology. No, he’d never feel that warmth of 10,000 stars directed at the real him. 

No, he’d never be able to be quenched by her life saving presence. 

No, he’d never feel her laughter shaking his bones as if in a musical crescendo.

But even the dimmest and most distant star gave off some light.

Even the last drop in an empty water skin was better than nothing.

Even the memory of a melody could be sweet. True, he would only ever have scraps of her affection. True, he could flirt, and perhaps go even further… but he’d never truly be with her. 

But who was a starving man to deny scraps of sustenance? He’d take what he could have and try to ignore the lingering hunger. 

“Perhaps we should discuss… another suspect?” he prompts, realising how long he’s been silent. How long she had been too, watching him with a strange, concerned look.

She nods, and moves on to their Captain.

Dick is almost relieved when some ten minutes later Oracle calls in a robbery downtown. “Well - sorry Sherlock.” He takes a picture of her board for further study. “I’ll be around next week to continue this discussion, and look over this in my own time till then. Duty calls.” “Be safe,” She says softly, as he’s halfway through the window He looks over his shoulder. “As you wish.”

Taglist: @jasontoddproblems

@sunnie-angel

@stormz369

@love-theangel-blog

@torchbearerkyle

@interwebseriesfan24

@love-theangel-blog

@alwaysnervouswitchprince

@underlinekasis

@tiredsleepyandreading

@soradragon Banner credit is to @strangergraphics

If you would request to be added to my taglist, please reblog the fic. Honestly please just reblog it anyway? I worked hard on this. Nothing more demotivating than a fic getting only likes. If you want part three, reblog part two. 

[coco-goat-milk]

#PET NAMES SYNOPSIS: calling your bf a yucky nickname CHARACTERS: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, yuta, inumaki, megumi, & itadori. WARNINGS: cringe NOTES: nanami WAHHHHH

GOJO is ridiculous enough with his pet names for you. he has you saved as "boo boo bear" with a dozen emojis in his phone, and it's been that way since he was a teen. he refuses to change it (he thinks he's funny), so he's not surprised when you start getting your "revenge" on him by trying to embarrass him in public. keyword, trying. because you think you have a disgusting pet name to call him and he counters with ten even nastier ones. he's got them locked and loaded, you're not winning. "poopsie, do you think this looks good on me?"

GETO is a little taken aback, but he flips it on you. he doesn't like the stares that come along with your comments, but you're having fun annoying him, so he doesn't say anything. until one of the names sticks, even in private. so now, you've got him calling you 'sexy'. it's disgusting, he knows, but he gets a kick out of watching you fight the way your face twists in amusement. he drags out the 'y' at the end too in a little sing-song voice and everything. he's mean, he'll even use it around your friends just to poke fun at you. he uses it mostly when you two are fighting and he's being sarcastic to get a reaction out of you. "whatever you say, sexy." ew.

NANAMI immediately comments on it. he loves you, truly. but you need to limit the time you spend around gojo, seriously. he sighs when you call out to him from another room, by anything but his name. hubba wubba? seriously? he opts to ignore you until you realize you're going to have to change that behavior to get him to respond. when you finally give in and he hears his name, he makes his way to your shared room. "you called?" and he pretends that he had heard nothing when you tell him you had spent the last seven minutes yelling for him. "i didn't know you were talking to me. is there something you need or did you just want my attention?"

CHOSO is completely clueless and thinks it's a normal human thing to be called petnames by your partner. he copies a lot of the things you do because he finds you adorable, so he'll take your prank and run with it. calling you a petname is a bad habit you'll have to correct if you don't want to go around in public getting called "muffin". you almost feel bad and you try to get him to call you other things, but in his logic, muffin should be a cute nickname, so he sees no problem. at that point the prank has failed and now you've just got a lovesick puppy-like boyfriend following you around calling you all kinds of names he hears (from yuuji). it's sweet, when he picks the right ones. "sleep well, my love, i promise i'll be back soon."

YUTA thinks you're unaware of how vile your nicknames are, so he tries to let you down easy. he's not particularly fond of being called your "booger". but he's not gonna just say that! that's rude. so he decides to use a little psychology to his advantage. he insists on calling you pet names that are a bit better! ones that he wouldn't mind being called. so you'll start hearing "angel" a lot at the ends and beginnings of his sentences, in hopes that you'll parrot him. when you insist on your original pet name, he has no option but to confront you. (it takes all his courage). "don't.... don't you think booger is a little... out of the ordinary?"

INUMAKI might pull his collar down and command everyone present to explode if you call him "captain cutie" one more time. especially in front of the first years? and gojo?? are you crazy??? he has a reputation to keep as the cool upperclassman; he's avoided his teacher's teasing because, frankly, gojo doesn't have much to go off of. but now everyone's laughing, and he's left defenseless. you throw him an innocent smile, and he swears he'll never prank you again if this will be how you get revenge. but he's petty, so don't be surprised when you receive a text from him later! "next time i see you, i'm gonna scream 'shit your pants'."

MEGUMI looks at you with a look that can only be described as disappointment. no, he doesn't want to be called 'baby cakes' in public. he might let go of your hand, honestly. actually, he will, if you keep dragging it out like that too. he thinks you might be hanging out with the other first years too much for his liking. you stop, and he thinks he'll address it later, but he's safe now. until you start all over again, hoping for a more dramatic reaction. he loosens his hand and rips it away from you as if you have the plague, and when you ask him "why, baby cakes?" especially loudly, he begins to speed walk in the opposite direction of the mall. when you reach him, he's still a little hesitant to hold your hand, "are you done? that was horrible."

YUUJI thinks it's so funny. he probably started it, honestly. it started with making fun of another couple you heard in public, and he hasn't stopped since then. you start calling him "shmoopie" and it happens so much that you accidentally call him that in serious moments. it's a slip up, but he might piss his pants from the laughter that bubbles up in his throat. expect a few tears (of joy) when you mess up during an intimate moment, maybe after a kiss. "i love you, shm- yuuji." you think you're slick? no, he heard that, and you're never living it down. "i love you too... schmoop."

thank you for all the requests and kind messages sent my way, i promise i read and appreciate all of 'em!

[coco-goat-milk]

Satisfied — Yuuta Okkotsu x Reader

々 Today’s Music Recommendation: Dark Red By Steve Lacy

A/N: im waiting for Mappa to finally give the jjk fan service to Yuta girlies.

You have accepted the fact that Yuta has nothing for you.

He is such a sweet and innocent soul with a dedicated heart. You should accept the fact that he truly wants to focus on what he is doing right now or otherwise you’d be the bad person.

Your brain tells you — you’re selfish because your heart just wouldn’t stop the way you look at him so dearly nor stop the way you touch him so tenderly despite the fact that he is only second to Gojo Satoru. Besides he has vowed how his heart only belongs to Rika.

Somewhere along that sentence has shuttered your heart once.

You and him were close, extremely. Extremely to the point where you both easily sleep in each other’s room without breaking a guilt, no nasty or sexual behavior from that. Just as close friends.

Yuta only has you if Maki, Toge or Panda were away for a mission. You are always there to embrace his coldness and bare with it everytime he needs you. You study as a Jujutsu Medical Student to treat physical wounds of your patients but Yuta seems to believe you also have the ability to plaster his scars within his sensitive heart.

You enjoy the thing you have with him. Love doesn’t have to be this and that. You are satisfied with whatever you are sacrificing for him. You hope this would last forever but you know life doesn’t always go as planned.

Higher ranks have decided to send him overseas, and you don’t like where this has headed.

“that meeting was draining for sakes..,” Sighs Yuta who plots down on the bed, next to your warm body, after he has stood his sword against the wall.

Yuta groans in exhaustion while he stretches his legs like a child. He always acts like a kid every time he is back from those old people, though it would lying if you admit you hate him whining over tiny problems.

“You shouldn’t have gone there if you already figured what it is going to be about,” you state, feeling Yuta lean into the crook of your neck while embracing your body.

He nods in your neck before sighing and holding you closer. “I just thought I needed to,” he says.

Silence overtakes the room as you both kept quiet for a long time. No one is really in the mood to talk apparently, with all these missions and all these patients dragging the two of you down to hell. The physically touch is the only way to communicate the burden you are having.

The crickets in the background rhyme each seconds, entertaining the night as it goes on. The hoots of the owls alarmed how the night has been late for the humans to not fall asleep but neither of you couldn’t seem to close your eyes from exhaustion.

“..i must have to wait such a long time for you to come back,” you start the conversation, pushing your head back as you stare at the ceiling blankly.

He nods, again. Not wanting to spit a word nor waste his leftover energy comforting you.

Yuta has never felt so guilty doing this with you. Lately he could feel himself getting nervous and worried whenever you come to meet him even especially if you are busy. In fact he has been craving your touch then he has ever had in the past, knowing he must leave you soon.

Rika might be his first love but he is convinced he has fallen in love once again. This time with you.

The way you touch him so tenderly as if he was as fragile as glass, The way you look at him so dearly that he could melt right in that place, everything you behave around him get him smiling like an immature child.

He knows how he is hurting you like this, how it must have been draining you to accept the fact that he feels nothing towards you when in reality it is all incorrect.

That is when Yuta back his face away from your neck and look at you, staring as your eyelids seem like they are about to shut down anytime soon. He stares as he continues detecting every inch of your face that is illuminated by the moonlight.

A countdown goes on his mind for a good while till your eyes completely close.

“take care..of yourself, silly” he whispers while he brushed the dark circles under your eyes. You have fallen asleep already and he knows it. You are a heavy sleeper, and that is one fact about you that he thinks is cute.

Jujutsu Sorcerers are not ones to be fortunate when falling in love. He knows if he did, one of their lives could end tragically due to how cruel the world can be. Keeping the problem folded is better than unfolding the problem before it leaves you miserable for life. He knows you are in love with him and he shamelessly admits he is a coward for letting himself avoid these problems.

The energy that remains in his body is about to run out yet he could not stop stealing glimpses of you.

He lets out one last sigh for the day before he gives a quick peck on your cheeks and smiles. He quickly pushes himself to the top as he embraces your head in his arms. Glancing over the top of your head before letting himself join the night with you.

Staying in the presence with you like this keeps him satisfied even if everything around him has turned into dust.

Just you and him against this ruthless world.

Reblogs and comments are really appreciated xoxo

[coco-goat-milk]

JUJUTSU KAISEN.

Incorrect Quotes.

-

Y/N: Guilty!

Higuruma: No.

Y/N: Execution!

Higuruma: sigh No.

Y/N: Death Penalty!

Higuruma: NO.

-

Y/N: *sad*

Yuuji: Why are you sad? :(

Y/N: Promise not to tell?

Yuuji: Promise.

Y/N: I’m getting picked on at school :(.

Choso: *barges through the door.* I could smell Y/N’s tears through the wall, what’s wrong?

Yuuji:

Y/N:

Yuuji: The other kids at school are picking on her-

Y/N: YUUJI!

Choso: *gets in Y/N’s face and breathes menacingly* WHO?

-

Kashimo:

Y/N:

Kashimo: So where’s Sukuna?

Y/N: On vacati-

Kashimo: *proceeds to throw Y/N into a wall.*

-

*in the culling games.*

Hakari: So why are you here if you aren’t a sorcerer?

Y/N: Idk, i just wanted to see the hot men and women fight.

Hakari: … I can’t argue against that.

-

Higuruma: You’re accused of 1st degree murder, attempted genocide and mass destruction, how do you plead?

Y/N: Nuh-uh.

*silence.*

Higuruma: The fuck you mean nuh uh?

-

Megumi: They say you attract what you fear.

Y/N: Sukuna, ahhh i’m so scared ahh Sukuna-

Yuuji: Y/N?!

Megumi: I have no words.

Yuuji: *trying to ignore the fact that Y/N just riled Sukuna up.*

Sukuna: Let me out, brat.

-

Nobara: If Y/N jumped off a cliff, would you?

Megumi: *face dark as he considers.*

Nobara: MEGUMI!

Megumi: What?

Nobara: Don’t jump off a cliff!

Megumi: Well, i wasn’t planning on it.

Nobara: But if Y/N did, you would?

Megumi:

Nobara: MEGUMI-

-

:3

[coco-goat-milk]

insecurity

s: dating the general mahamatra comes with insecurities.

cw: none

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you’d like to think you’re a resilient person. teyvat is filled with mysteries and anomalies something you’ve learned to coexist with. you’ve been chased by electro slimes, got rocks thrown from hilichurls, and even punched by those infuriating fungi that hop around sumeru’s forest. you’ve prevailed and proudly call yourself an adventurer, it was even enough to be invited by the traveller herself to investigate some of her own journeys. that was proof enough that you’re confident in your own abilities. you were even able to grab the general mahamatra’s attention (albeit some help from lumine but you don’t need to know that).

even so, why is it, as you sit at a wooden table not far from the chief’s home, do you feel completely defeated? climbing the cliffs of sumeru’s deserts seemed much more interesting than having to sit by and wait for your partner to finish discussing some matters with aaru village’s protector.

your fingers tap the table in an impatient manner as your elbow is probed up with your chin sitting comfortably on your palm. that resilient personality you were so confident in seemed to dissipate the second cyno walked up to candace. she’s an amazing women with everyone in the village trusting her and she does everything in her power to make sure things go smoothly.

this wasn’t your first meeting with candace but this time around you couldn’t help but compare the two. their color schemes from their outfits matched beautifully, their positions of power would be enough to scare someone straight, their strength, their auras, their —

“if you keep staring at him like that you won’t need a pyro vision to set him on fire,” a voice from behind cause your movements to pause. with wide eyes and mouth agape you turn to find dehya smirking knowingly at you.

you groan and bury your face into your palms, “this is so embarrassing.”

“and why’s that?” dehya questions opting to seat herself right next to you. she was around to visit candace as usual and she couldn’t help but notice the way you longingly stared at the general mahamatra. “it’s not like you guys aren’t already together, what’s the harm in staring?”

“i’m just—“ you pause unable to figure out the right choice of words to describe your current predicament. you sigh defeated and turn to look at the two again, “i don’t feel good enough to stand next to him.”

“oh?” dehya hums suddenly engrossed at the topic at hand. her eyebrow raises in a way that says ‘are-you-serious-right-now’, “listen, i don’t know much about the adventure’s guild but they’ve always spoken highly of you, especially the traveller. what’s up with this attitude?”

“i don’t know. i don’t have any fancy moves or a title to my name, if it hadn’t been for the traveller, i don’t even think i would’ve gotten to chance to befriend the people i know now,” you rant feeling embarrassed at the location you’re spilling your heart out. you continue, unable to stop, “am i really the right choice for cyno? wouldn’t he better off with someone like candace? or even the traveller.”

a second goes by of silence before dehya is suddenly giggling softly to herself. your face heats up, a warm red glow radiating from your face, “dehya! i’m being serious.”

“i’m sorry! i didn’t mean it like that!” dehya apologizes, waving herself off. she clears her throat and speaks softly to you, “if the general mahamatra didn’t think you were good enough to be around, he wouldn’t be glued to your side 24/7. he doesn’t hesitate to beat guys up for the akademiya, i doubt he would go out with just anyone.”

her words seemed to struck a nerve in your heart and you smiled thankfully at dehya, but she continues, “also, i don’t think candace wants someone intimidating as him around her village.”

you open your mouth to defend cyno but another voice stops you, “candace is grateful for my methods.”

the hairs on your neck stand turning to find cyno with his arms crossed staring blanking at a smirking dehya. his gaze shifts to you it instantly softens causing you to blush with a small smile, he speaks up, “i’m finished discussing matters with candace, if you’re ready we can depart now.”

“oh! yeah, i’m ready!” you quickly stand hitting your knee on the table but you don’t give yourself time to react before you turn to dehya, “thank you for keeping me company. we’ll be leaving now!”

as you start to leave, a hand on your wrist stops your movements and you turn around curiously. cyno points to the book you had long abandoned on the table. you had brought it with you to keep yourself distracted when cyno was busy, it was a book you had borrowed from tighnari and you both knew if you left it, he would have both of your heads.

“oh!” you gasp but cyno is quick enough to grab it for you. you smile toothy at him and squeeze his hand that traveled down to your palm, “thank you! now, let’s go! i wanna see nilou’s performance before it’s too late!”

he hums and bids dehya goodbye. the two of you leave hand in hand out of the desert and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, all of your previous worries and insecurities disappearing at the mere feeling of cyno’s warm hand intertwined with your own. dehya couldn’t have been any more right, no one in a million years would have imagined the general mahamatra being completely docile and soft with someone else and only you. anyone who’s eyes wandered off towards the two would immediately get shone with the terrifying and infamous hard glare from him.

as the two of you continue your way back to the city with no one around he speaks up, “you know i wouldn’t pick anyone but you.”

“what?” your heart drops knowing that his creepy but impressive hearing didn’t let your conversation go unnoticed.

“you were the first person to laugh at my jokes,” cyno shrugs nonchalantly. he pauses his movements and turns to you and the softest smile you’ve seen grace his face. “it will always and only ever be you. never doubt my judgement.”

note: i’m so in love with cyno y’all do not understand. i need him.

[coco-goat-milk]

GENSHIN MEN AND TROPES

Characters- All male playable characters

Warning- some might be suggestive, nothing explicit though

Note- All characters are aged, a dot '.' Meaning scene change , font meaning past memory.

A/n- hope you enjoy!

Baizhu

Doctor patient dynamic

Gentle hands rubbing your back constantly as your coughing fit seemed endless once again. "I-I don't think I'll be able to watch the next lantern right with you like I promised doctor Baizhu." You smiled through the pain, the said man sighing, "Stop doubting my abilities as a Doctor (Y/n). You'll get better." Running his hand through your hair as you layed down, exhaustion making your eyes droop close. "I'll make sure of it, my Little Violet."

Kaveh

Childhood friends to lovers

"Look what I made!" He looked up as you placed something on his head, one hand coming up to touch it, " A flower crown?" "Mhm. Just for you!" He blushed.

.

"I got you something Kaveh~" He turned to you from where he was writing his thesis, "(Y/n) how many times do I have to say you don't have to buy me art supplies. Um let me buy you lunch as repayment." He looked into your eyes with a gentle gaze as you hopped on the desk beside his papers, placing a box. "Too bad. I already made some for the both of us." "(Y/-" his words got cut short as you gently placed your finger on his lips, "shush Kaveh."

Al haitham

Academic rivals to lovers

"Ugh not again." You muttered under your breath as you looked at the list of top scorers. "Try harder. Maybe you'll be able to get a little better if you work on your gold fish attention span." A voice came as someone passed by, knowing very well who this person was as you sighed in irritation.

.

Soft clicks of shoes were the only echos in the house of daena as Al haitham made his way towards a bookshelf, his eyes falling onto a figure. He placed his book on the table gently, rounding the table, he placed the pen down from your hand as he placed his cloak on your shoulders, covering you to keep you warm as he pushed the hair away from your face. "Stop pushing yourself so hard."

Wanderer

Grumpy x Sunshine

"Oh c'mon would it kill you to come with me?" You pleaded as your partner kept ignoring your request, "There's no point in me going with you-" "I think you should go with them. It'll broaden your spectrum and give you a new way of looking at things." A gentle voice came as your eyes sparkled at the person. "See?! Even Lesser Lord Kusunali agrees with me!" "NOT YOU TOO " He yelled, grumbling. You pout, crossing your arms over your chest as you stood up, "I'll be leaving Lord Kusunali, since he doesn't want to go, I'll go and ask Cyno. I heard there's a new card back released there too, he'll be happy to come with me." Nahida blinked up at you as you started walking, observing how your frown turned into a sly smirk as soon as a hand gripped your wrist. "Not happening. I'm coming with you."

Cyno

Co workers to lovers

"Hmm how long do you think this water will last us here Cyno?" You eyed the big bag of water in your hand as you kept walking on the flaming sand in the middle of the desert, "It should last us till tonight. Don't worry, there's a village nearby, we can restock our supplies and get some well desserved rest." You looked at Cyno, unamused "Get it? It's because we're in a dese-" For the first time he cut himself from his explanation, you sighing as if the heavens saved you as he told you to stay put, going to converse with a group of eremites that were closeby. You took a seat in the shade of a giant rock. 'Wait, why is he coming back with a-' "Get on it. Your feet aren't used to the hot sand of the desert, they're already red from the external temperature, it'd be bad if they get blisters. I borrowed us this Sumpter Beast, we'll return this on our way back." Your face started getting warmer, whether it was because of the temperature of desert or your general Mahamatra, you didn't know.

Tighnari

Student teacher dynamic

"Ow!" A book came in contact with your head as you sat on the chair listening to your master's unending lecture. "So the next time I see you head into a withering zone all on your own, I'll be cutting down your sweets that you love so much." Your eyes widened at that, not your sweets! "What did my sweets ever do to you! Plus, I had it covered in the whithering zone!" Smack "Ouch! Stop hitting me-!" Your breath got caught in your throat as Tighnari placed his book under your chin, tilting it upwards as he brought his face close to yours, looking into your eyes, "Next time you won't be doing something so reckless. Okay my Lotus?"

Heizou

Undercover agent(you) to lovers

[ (C/n) -> cover name]

"I'm so sorry I wasn't looking where I was going!" You apologised to the young looking male. "Oh it's totally fine. Don't worry about it" He smiled, asking what your name was. "(C/n)" You replied, your smile widening when he asked if you'd like to go get a cup of coffee with him.

.

"Can you actually be serious for once Heizou?" You rolled your eyes as you kept walking through Chinju forest, sighing at your companion's carefree nature. He chuckled, " You want me to be serious huh?" You nodded," yes! It'd be- wa-!" Your sentence was cut off as your back hit a tree bark, your eyes leveling with none other than Heizou's himself. You shifted as he gazed at you in silence, noticing how he got much closer as each moment passed. His lips barely apart from your ear, he whispered, "Is this serious enough for you?.....(Y/n)."

Xiao

Eternal acquaintances to lovers

"You guys just loveee drawing on his face while he's sleeping don't you" you chuckled, feeling the cool breeze as other 4 yakshas drew little shapes on the face of the one sleeping. "Oh you know his expression is priceless whenever he finds out what we did!" Bosacius laughed.

.

"Do you ever know when to take a break?!" You were used to scolding him, and he was used to hearing it. A little too used to it. "Don't you smile when I'm here telling you to take care of yourself!"

.

Your eyes opened slowly, sounds of fireworks and a hand stroking your hair waking you up. You rubbed the haze out of your eyes, "Did they already start?" You pushed yourself up from what you thought to be ground, but lifting your head up you realised it was, "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to-" He shushed you, gazing down at you gently as his thumb stroked your cheek. Your face grew warm as you sat up to avoid his stare, only to be turned around, feeling his head on your shoulder, his breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. "S-Shouldn't you watch the fireworks as well?" You stuttered out, not able to focus on the display yourself. He just sighed, tightening his grip around you.

Zhongli

Newly shifted neighbours to lovers

He was in the middle of pouring himself some freshly brewed tea when a knock landed on his door. Your head tilted upwards to look at the tall male. You didn't know what you expected your neighbour to look like but you certainly didn't think of this. He looked... ethereal. "Umm I just shifted here and please take this." You handed him a paper bag. He looked at it and then at you, smiling, "Grace me with your company over some tea?"

.

"You really don't have to stay up this late for me." You said apologetically to the man sitting beside you, helping you with your thesis you had to write last minute. "It's totally okay. So as I was saying, this part of Liyue------" this went on for hours until he saw you rubbing your eyes. He chuckled," Is Liyue's history that boring?" "Wha- no of course not! It's interesting. I've never thought Liyue had so much to it." You smiled. A large hand came up to cup your cheek, making you look at him, and suddenly you realised how close you two were sitting for all this time. "Sleep's evident in your eyes" he noted as your eyes became hazy with sleep, "I'll take you to bed. My little dove."

Albedo

Klee's babysitter to lovers

"Klee no bombing the fishes again!!" You said to the little girl, so done with her shenanigans for this week. The little girl pouted, looking down until an idea popped into her head, "Lets go see Albedo then!" She smiled.

.

The little ball of sunshine was sleeping peacefully in the corner of Albedo's lab wrapped in two blankets while you laid beside her, trying to fall asleep as well because you had nothing to do and there was nothing Albedo needed help with, but the cold was making it too difficult. Were you actually jealous of a little girl's pyro vision? Absolutely not. You don't know when you fell asleep, or rather, passed out.

'Oh. They're both sleeping peacefully.' He walked up to the two of you, quickly noting how your face looked a little pale. His fingertips touched your skin 'Cold' he thought.

The little girl was the first one awake," Albedo! I had this dre-" she cut herself short when she noticed her brother sleeping too...while holding you close to his chest. "Maybe Klee should sleep some more~!"

Razor

Pack members to lovers

The chase of two little pups continued in wolvendom until they reached Andreas, where they started their chase back to their destination, their minds on the piece of juicy meat the winner will get.

.

Some things never really change, like you and Razor having a game of chase. The difference is, however, he's chasing you this time and you two's size differences now that you've all grown up. You landed on the ground with a soft thud, your back hitting the soft grass as you saw Razor on top of you, his skin glistening in sweat as he gave you a cheery smile, "I won again (n/n)!" You playfully rolled your eyes, "Yeah yeah I get you're faster than m- eep-! Razor-!" You giggled, trying to move away as he started licking your face and neck. His hands tightened around your wrists," No running far anymore" He whined.

Chongyun

Strangers to lovers

"But I asked for that popsicle first!"

"And I saw it first!"

"I'm their regular customer!"

"Not like I have them once a year!"

.

You bit off a little chunk of Chongun's icy popsicle," Hey what did I say about no having my popsicle!" You laughed, getting closer to him all of a sudden," Well if you don't want to share this popsicle, I can always make do with the other one you have~" thump

Yes he fainted.

Diluc

[Childhood known] Bartender-owner relationship to lovers

"If you'd like, you can work at my tavern. I can use the help and you can use the money." A kind offer he made to his childhood neighbour when you came back from sumeru and needed a job, not wanting to stay away from your homeland.

.

A soft cry left your lips when a broken glass shard pricked your hand, you continued picking up the glass pieces the customer accidentally broke, ignoring the bleeding hand 'I'd have to mop the floor anyway.' A strong yet gentle grip pulled you up and towards the sink to wash and dress your wound, "Why'd you ignore it?" You bit your lip, not knowing how to answer. "Be careful next time." He sighed.

.

The number of people were relatively less today, maybe because of the windbloom festival, giving you an opportunity to relax and unwind with a drink yourself. The door opened as you turned your head to see who it was. "Ah master Diluc! Let me go get you some grape juice-" You were about to stand up when two arms caged you against the counter, leaning towards you," Stop calling me that. It's Diluc for you. Just Diluc."

Ajax

Contract marriage

'To stay with party A's family and take care of party A's siblings, treat A like a husband in front of A's family. The contract shall last for three years.'

Signed, (Y/n)

.

It's been 2 years since you signed that contract, staying with Childe's family wasn't bad, they all treated you very nicely and that a corner of your heart knew that your family was now out of bankruptcy because of this, you were content....for the most part anyway.

"Look who's home~!" A very excited Childe emerged through the main door, his servants taking away the bags he was carrying as he picked up Teucer. "I brought you Mr. Cyclopes figurine Teucer!" You smiled to yourself as you watched each of his sibling hug their older brother, used to watching the scene from afar at this point. What you didn't expect was him making his way up to you, his height towering over yours as you looked up at him confused, your face flushing as he pulled you closer to him by your waist, kissing your forehead, "How have you been my love?"

"G-Good." You stuttered out. All his siblings left the living room to give you two some privacy, happy to see the sight. He brushed the strands away from your face, looking into your eyes," Sorry about that. But I missed you. I don't know why, maybe because I look forward to seeing you now." Your eyes widened, "And... I want to take you with me the next time I leave. If you'll join me."

'It's not just a contract to me anymore (Y/n).' He thought.

Xingqui

Library crushes to lovers

Your eyes peeked over the book to look at the blue haired male, quickly hiding behind it again as his eyes fell on you. "Oh god please tell me he didn't see me." You muttered to yourself.

.

"The realm of humans was known as the Zhongzhou, while the gods reside in Shenxiao. At the end of-------" he kept explaining the plot of his favourite book, not like you weren't listening, but half your focus was on looking at him.

.

"Umm (Y/n). There's this new book shop that opened in north Liyue. Will you join me tomorrow?" Both your faces were warm when he said the words as you nodded shyly.

Itto

Oni dynamic

"Haha I won again! Take that (Y/n)!" The little oni jumped up as he came out victorious again. "Alright alright no need to rub it in the face Mr. Onikabuto."

.

"Do you really have to leave (Y/n)?" You nodded as tears pricked your eyes, hearing the sad tone from your oni friend who you've always heard cheery no matter the situation.

.

"As my great partner (Y/n) came back after years of staying in Natlan, they'll be joining the one and oni Arataki gang! Isn't that great!?" The said oni swung an arm around your shoulder as you ducked, "Your arm's heavy Itto!" "Of course it is I'm an Oni you know! You don't expect me to weigh like a twing do you?" He wiggled his eyebrows. "But boss should we trust them? I mean-" "Well of course! I know (Y/n) for agesss do you think I'll take just anyone into the great Arataki gang huh!?" He pointed smugly to himself as you sighed. Yup, he'll never change, and you won't have him any other way.

Kamisato ayato

Arrange marriage

Your eyes faced the floor of komore teahouse during the whole conversation of your father and the head of Kamisato Clan, accompanied with his sister and their most trusted servant. You saw the two Clan heads shaking hands from the corner of your eyes, knowing everything is sealed. You never even saw what your to-be husband looked like.

.

"Wouldn't you look at me even now (Y/n)?" Gentle voice of your soon to-be husband spoke as he held both your hands in his significantly bigger ones as the priest made preparations to start the wedding rituals. You swallowed nervously as you slowly looked up, your eyes falling on the mesmerizing lilac ones.

.

An arm wrapped around your waist from behind while the other one took away the hairbrush in your hand, placing it on the dresser as kisses were placed on your neck," My gorgeous wife." You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against his shoulder," Says the man who gave that word a meaning."

Bennett

Adventurer-medic to lovers

"Yup, bad luck again." You sighed as you bandaged his knee again. "I'm sorry (Y/n), for troubling you so much. I try to be careful but..." he rubbed the back of his head. "I know Benny, not your fault, just your luck." He nodded, giving you a thumbs up and a cheery smile as you finished bandaging his wound. "Butttt" you intergected when he was about to say something, "Nothing some tasty Chicken-Mushroom Skewers can't solve!" His eyes started sparkling the moment you said those words, making you giggle. "Yay let's go!"

Kazuha

Crew mates to lovers

"Wait up please!" You yelled to the ship that was about to leave the docks of Inazuma. You ran as fast as you could against the wooden planks 'Bad day to be wearing a Kimono damn it.' Apparently your voice wasn't loud enough for the Captain of The Crux to hear and your heart already started grimacing the loss of boarding the ship just a foot away as it started leaving. A sudden gust of wind lifted you up as your eyes closed shut in terror, the next time you opened them, you were on the ship, with nothing but a maple leaf in your hand.

.

You were leaning against the railing of the ship, looking at the vast ocean in fasination until a strong gust of wind passed, swaying your footing, almost tumbling you over but a hand to your wrist pulled you back just in time before it could happen. Your breath was caught in the throat due to the event, and because of the stranger with platinum hair and ruby eyes that saved your life. He was.... breathtaking. "Careful, the wind can be flickering unexpectedly once in a while. It's a vast ocean after all." He smiled.

Venti

Troublemaker and muse

You raised an eyebrow as your beer fell off the table, a person climbing on it instead. You looked up to see who it was, silently grimacing over your spilled beer. "Are you gonna pay for my beer or not" you said looking up at him while he ran his fingers along the lyre, "I'll pay you back with my wonderful performance~!" You sighed in irritation.

.

Your form busted through the tavern's door in the middle of the night, scanning over your surroundings before your eyes landed on the mop of green you were looking for. You swiftly made your way over, carrying the windy bard over your shoulder like a potato sack as you slid a pouch of mora in master Diluc's direction with an apologetic smile. "Put me downnnn I wanna kiss you!!" He whined on your shoulder as your face matched Master Diluc's hair.

Thoma

Ayaka's best friend

"Here let me help you with that." He took the heavy looking bags from your hand just as you entered the Kamisato estate. "Ah thank you Thoma." You smiled at him.

.

"I'm also inviting (Y/n)." Ayaka spoke to her brother over supper and Thoma couldn't help but chime in," If they're coming, It'd be great if I can make their favourite dish." Ayaka and Ayato gave each other knowing looks as Thoma looked between them, confused, "Did I say something wrong?"

.

"I'm sure (Y/n) could use some help for this event. I hand this task to you Thoma." Said Ayaka as she gently pushed him into a room and slid the door closed so he couldn't escape. "Thoma it's you-!" You squeaked, surprised by the sudden entrance. "Y-Yes Lady (Y/n). Lady Ayaka said I should help you if you were to face any difficulties. So do you need any assistance?" He scratched the back of his head. Your eyes fell onto the kimono belt in your head and then at him, your cheeks warming, "N-No it's fine." He wordlessly came towards you, taking the fabric from your hand, silently waiting for you to turn around as permission. You did, your breath getting caught in your throat as you felt his hands do their work, his hot breath hitting the back of your neck. A few moments passed, your head becoming lightheaded with each second until he did the final knot, whispering in your ear, "It's done, my princess."

Gorou

Subordinates to lovers

"Bear with it" you said as you poured the disinfectant over your commander's bleeding gash. He suppressed a hiss as you blowed on the wound in hopes to make it feel less burning. "Can you be more careful Gorou? There was no reason for you to come in front of me to stop that arrow!" You glared at him. "Your mother entrusted you to me (Y/n)" he tried reasoning. "As if Lady Kokomi didn't tell me to bring you back safe and sound!" He just chuckled at that.

.

You were laying down on the make shift infirmary's bed when a very happy Gorou emerged through the door, out of breath as if he ran all this way (yes he did) "(Y/n)! We did it! The war's over!" He ran over to you and hugged you tightly, you noticing how his tail was swaying back and forth. You chuckled. "I'm so happy (Y/n)! I can finally ask your mother for your hand in marri-" Your eyes widened.

"Oh god i shouldn't have said it like that- (Y/n)? (Y/n)?! Oh god don't faint-!"

Mhm, franatic Gorou is pretty cutee~

Kaeya

Fake dating

"Oh~, who is this pretty person beside you Kaeya?" Lisa ask, intrigued. "My partner." Kaeya smiled.

That was five months ago.

.

You two sawyed from side to side to the silent beat of the music as you looked at him, "So when is your 'target' arriving Kaeya? It's been 4 hours." "Oh don't worry. He'll be here soon enough. My brother can be a little late. He is returning to Mondstadt after months after all." He replied, looking into your eyes just as the venue's door opened to reveal the said man. In the blink of an eye, Kaeya's face was buried in the crook of your neck, " The hell are you doing?!" You whisper yelled at the man, not knowing what he was up to now. If you knew something about Kaeya, it was his unpredictable mind. "Just making sure my brother believes this of course. He has very keen eyes for lies you see. I want to prove to him that I can infact find an adequate partner for myself." "You sure it's not because of that 5 dozen wine bottles he put at stake." "That's just an added bonus!" He smirked as he rose up to his full height, taking your chin in between his finger and thumb, bringing your face closer to his, " Plus, Who knows? I might actually persue it to make it real."

Neuvillette

Second chance [mates][immortal reader- non specified species]

"I'll wait for you" said the man you loved so dearly with a solemn look in his eyes. "Don't" was all you said before you departed to the underworld, having not done anything wrong yet having no choice.

.

A hundred years passed since your own lover sealed your verdict, your heart wrenching with pain each time you think of it. 'He had his reasons. It's for the sake of fontaine.' Your heart longed for the hydro dragon, but you've made your heart think that 'He must have wanted this.'

.

The day finally came when you reached the surface again, and what you didn't expect was to see him waiting at the entrance. "Neuvillette...." You whispered, your eyes trying to drink back the tears they started producing on their own. The said man walked towards you in slow strides, his mind detached from his surroundings except you. Strong arms engulfed you in a delicate embrace, cradling you against his chest as if you were made of porcelain. And as much as your mind told you to pull away, your hands only gripped him tighter, crying against him. A few moments passed when you looked up at him, " Where's your partner?" Your heart broke as you asked that question, but you needed to know. "Right in front of me." He whispered. It was hard for you to believe him, you expected him to move on. "Did you forget.." he started, his lips placing a delicate kiss on the corner of your lips," That dragons mate for life?"

Wriothesley

Classic Husband x Wife

As soon as you stepped foot into your husband's office, the door being shut behind you, you heard fumbling noise. You made your way up the rounded stairs, crossing your arms over your chest as you made your way over to him, "Don't tell me you're drinking tea again Wriothesley." You narrowed your eyes at him. "No of course not. Why would I drink more when you set a boundary of 7 per day" he chuckled. "Oh?" You raised an eyebrow, leaning against his desk as you wiped the corner of his lips," What's this then?" You showed him the sugar powder on your fingertip. He chuckled nervously, "You see-"

.

Gentle kisses across your face is what woke you up, your hand tightening against the fabric....wait. You looked up and around you, realising you're in Wriothesley's office and in his lap, clutching onto his shirt. He softly kissed your forehead," Morning sunshine. Ready to go to the surface today?"

Lyney

Opposites attract

"Well someone looks a little out of it on a fine day like this." Your footsteps came to a halt as a guy stopped in front of you. His hand came up and passed by the side of your hair," Let me make it a little better" he chuckled as he pulled a rose 'out of your hair.' It was pretty, you thought taking it from him and giving him a small smile,"Thank you."

.

You pulled him along with you by his ear gently while he tried keeping up with your pace," I was just entertaining them!" He reasoned as you continued walking," You were clearly still there when they told you they didn't wanna see your tricks." "But it looked like they could use some help!" He whined. "Not everyone deserves you lifting up their spirits Lyney." You sighed. "Well, I can always lift your spirits up. If you know what I mean." Bonk

Freminet

Fated divers

Your hands splashed the water around you as oxygen depleted at a fast rate from your body, you tried tugging on the vines tightly wrapped around your foot in hopes to break them but they won't let up. You extended your arms up in an attempt to swim back to the surface but it was becoming harder by the second. It wasn't long before black dots started covering your vision and you started sinking further down.

Your eyes open with a start, the endless water still surrounding you but there was a stranger, with his lips on yours.

.

"Hey there Freminet~!"

"Oh hi (Y/n)" he gave you a small smile, looking up from where he was tinkering with clockwork. "I got you Seabird Sojourn!" You smiled as you sat beside him, looking closely at the details of his doing. You took his hand into yours, making his freckled cheeks blush a pink hue," Let's eat first before it gets cold."

Written by Yours truly

Masterlist

[coco-goat-milk]

"suguru, shoko... it's been nice knowing you guys. i always loved you both. please, tell y/n i loved her too, yeah?"

it's a tense moment. after satoru received your social medias, he did some snooping around and found the harsh truth — or so he calls it. comparing himself to what he found did nothing but install a depressing, hallow sadness into his system.

"satoru, get the fuck down from that chair," shoko's having none of it. the moment she glimpsed group-chat's notification she practically teleported to satoru's. her heart dropped, palms got sweaty, throat dry at the thought of satoru ending his life. when she arrived, suguru was already there, weeping for his dear friend's life.

it must've been serious, right? it wasn't.

what came into her vision was a grown, silver-headed man standing on his desk chair. around his neck held one of his ties. now, this is where it got unserious. everything seemed true until shoko's eyes traveled to satoru's neck. his tie was wrapped around it with his very own hand holding the longer piece of the tie.

in short, he's fucking dramatic. suguru doesn't fall far, too. it must be hard on shoko for being the only one with a decent brain... kind of.

"shoko, how can you be so... so mean?! he's dying over there! your own friend!" suguru wipes his tears, furious at his other friend's own indifference to such a sight.

"don't," she begins, walking to satoru's position to kick him off the chair. "don't piss me off."

satoru's now on the floor; laying on his back, body straight, arms clasped on top his stomach. this must signal his final moments. it's peaceful in his mind.

"satoru, i swear to god. get the fuck off that floor." she nudges his body with the front of her shoes, eyes twitching at the foolishness.

it takes a mere minute before satoru's tired of ignoring the obnoxious foot harming his body. so he sits up, hanging his head low.

"i just can't, y'know? it hurts," his voice cracks, radiating sadness throughout the room. his words receive two varying responses.

from suguru: "it's okay, satoru. there are many other fishes in the sea."

from shoko: "this is why you mind your business sometimes."

at shoko's response, he sighs loudly, "it won't kill you to be nice, shoko ieiri."

she sits on his bed, placing a pillow on her lap, fixing her posture, and re-positioning her imaginary glasses. "well then, satoru. tell me what you felt, what you saw, and what you think. you can let it all out to doctor shoko."

suguru stifles a laugh, eyes switching between shoko's new persona and satoru's defeated expression.

"okay, doctor shoko. i felt horrible — no, nauseous. i went through her followings and saw that she follows other men. she knows other men. i'm sick to my stomach," his rant begins. it all started when he decided to go through your profile. this meant snooping through followers, followings, tagged photos, and even comments. you both are in — what the youngsters call it — a talking stage.

there are no labels within this relationship, nor are there any confirmed feelings but this? this betrayal? what do you mean he's not the first man on your profile? this is devilish. all went well until he saw one specific comment that said: "baby you're so sexy ily," to which you replied: "i love you more."

the fiend ( as he calls them ) had the profile photo of a man. when he did the internal math, the unbearable truth was found. he is not the only one you're talking to. he feels hurt.

suguru, too, shares his friend's pain. shoko, however, doesn't. why? it's because the commenter was in fact not a man. had satoru did deeper research, he'd have known that the profile photo is the famous singer the weeknd, and the profile belongs to one of your girls who's a diehard fan of him. well, who's shoko to tell the truth? she'll wait for satoru to come to a realization.

[coco-goat-milk]

Hurricanes / Hummingbirds: II

Series Synopsis: As the years go by, you find that it is incredibly difficult to survive wars and fight storms, especially when the only thing you have by way of a cursed technique is the blessing of a tiny bird.

Chapter Synopsis: You get acquainted with Nanami’s least favorite upperclassman, as well as with your sword.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x Female Reader; slight Kento Nanami x Female Reader; slight Satoru Gojo × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4.2k

Content Warnings: swearing, enemies/rivals to lovers, character death, canon-typical violence, angst, gore, original characters included

A/N: very unserious chapter apologies in advance

“Are you Satoru Gojo?” you said. He certainly looked like somebody who you’d expect to be a clan heir, with a shock of white hair and pitch-dark glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He was currently engaged in conversation with another boy, this one with messy black hair tied into a bun and discerning brown eyes that widened slightly when they lit upon you.

“Me? Yeah, whaddya want?” the white haired boy said, pointing at himself. You clasped your hands in front of you.

“Please, sir, oh, please please please let me have the Sword of Syrinx! I’ll do anything — okay, no, I won’t — if you just give it to me. I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I want it, and I promise I’ll be the best underclassman you’ve ever had if you let me use it! I know it’s a special grade cursed tool, technically, so it’s super-duper valuable, and I’m just a random first year student who can’t even use a sword, but I really really want it!” you said, all in a rush. Both boys gave you bemused looks.

“Uh, what?” Gojo said, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing at his friend, who shrugged in confusion. You steeled your expression before dropping into a bow.

“Satoru Gojo,” you said.

“Yes?” he said nervously.

“I ate the sandwich you made for Nanami,” you said.

“Oh, no way! Did you like it?” he said. You knew you should lie — after all, Nanami said that Gojo’s ego was already the size of Tokyo, and there was real danger in inflating it further. However, you knew the ways of men very well, and there was only one way you could convince him to let you have the Sword of Syrinx, which you coveted so dearly.

“Yes,” you said. “Very much. It was the best sandwich I’ve ever eaten.”

“Awesome!” he cheered. “Yeah, see, I’m a good cook, too! Take that, Suguru. I can’t believe you doubted me!”

“It was just a sandwich,” his friend muttered. “Don’t go thinking you’re some kind of a chef.”

“But it was the best sandwich she’s ever eaten! Of course, it only makes sense. As one of the strongest, I’d naturally make sandwiches deserving of the title. By the way, you have good taste, random girl!” Gojo said, reaching out to pat your still-bowed head. You clenched your fists in determination.

“Y/N L/N, sir. Please call me Y/N,” you said.

“Okay. Please don’t call me sir,” he said.

“Alright,” you said. “So, about the Sword of Syrinx…?”

“Huh? Oh, that piece of junk? Sure, you can have it,” he said dismissively. You froze before slowly looking up at him, his casually arrogant grin, his lazy posture. He was tall, but the height gave him a gangly appearance. He was almost awkward, in that way of a foal or fawn, all legs and little else. The effect was especially exacerbated by his friend who stood beside him; this boy was broader, more filled out, though he was about the same height as Gojo.

“I can?” you said. Gojo gave you a double thumbs up.

“I don’t use weapons, and even if I did, I definitely wouldn’t pick such a useless, random one. Why, did you think I’d say no or something? As if! If you can use it, then at least someone can, and if you can’t, then it’ll be back in the cursed tools warehouse before long,” he said.

“Oh,” you said, realizing there had been no reason for you to flatter him. Now you had pumped his ego even more, and you hadn’t even gotten anything out of it that you wouldn’t have otherwise.

“Yeah,” he said. You blinked before what he had said really set in, and then you squealed in delight.

“Wait, I can really have it? Like, really really?” you said. Gojo nodded eagerly.

“Like, really really!” he said. It was almost condescending, but you were too excited to care. The Sword of Syrinx was yours, it was really, truly yours, and now all you had to do was learn how to use it. You didn’t even care that your only cursed technique was Hummingbird’s Blessing; if you had that sword, you were certain that nothing could stop you.

“Thank you! Thank you so, so much! If you ever need a sandwich taster or something, you know where to find me!” you shouted over your shoulder, taking off in a full sprint towards the cursed tools warehouse where Hinode, Haibara, and Nanami were waiting for your triumphant return.

“Sure thing!” he shouted back.

You were out of breath and panting by the time you returned to the cursed tools warehouse, but not even your exhaustion was enough to dampen your spirits, which had been immeasurably raised after the brief exchange with Gojo.

“He’ll give it to me!” you huffed out, doubling over to calm your racing heart, your palms pressing against your thighs as your breathing returned to normal. “Hinode, he said I can have the sword!”

“Congratulations,” Hinode said, presenting you with the scabbarded weapon. “To pay him back for his kindness, make sure take excellent care of it.”

As soon as the Sword of Syrinx was in your hands, it began to murmur with cursed energy, seeking out your own like it was trying to greet you. You weren’t really sure how to respond, but it seemed that at least your cursed energy did, rushing up to meet the sword’s, weaving in and out in an undulating motion that you could only describe as dancing. It was not something you could see; rather, it was something you felt, against your skin, in your soul, the meeting of your heart and the Sword of Syrinx as comforting as the embrace of an old friend.

“Why are you standing there with a stupid expression on your face?” Nanami said. You hugged the sword to your chest, tracing your fingers over the designs on the scabbard to occupy your ever-racing mind.

“It’s my sword,” you said simply. “I was just getting to know it.”

Nanami side-eyed you. “Um, okay. Should I introduce myself as well?”

It was obvious he was confused; to be fair, you did not blame him. The notion of getting to know a sword was a ridiculous one, especially in the way that he likely assumed you meant it. But you weren’t doing some kind of formal interview with the Sword of Syrinx, you were just letting it feel your cursed energy, which, considering the fact that it was a Special Grade Cursed Tool, didn’t seem like too far-fetched an idea.

“Don’t be so critical, Nanami.” To your surprise, it was Hinode who jumped to your defense. “Tools of such power can be finicky. It could very well be that allowing the energy of the sword to grow accustomed to hers might be the key to letting her wield it properly.”

“Kind of like boiling a frog!” Haibara said. “You know, like she slowly feeds it more and more of her energy until it accepts her as its new owner? If it gets overloaded all at once, it’ll obviously not want to cooperate, since it’ll recognize that she’s not the one that forged it, but if she’s slow and methodical about it, it won’t even realize the difference.”

“Actually, you have a point,” Hinode said. Haibara clapped his hands together in excitement; however, in doing so, he neglected to remember the cursed knives he was attempting to hold. They clattered everywhere, and he gave you all a horrified look that caused a small giggle to escape you.

“Haibara,” Nanami groaned. “You are such a disaster. It’s a wonder you’ve made it this far.”

“Sorry!” Haibara responded in a tone that suggested he was actually not at all sorry. Kneeling, he deftly swept up the knives and shoved them into the pockets of his uniform — pockets which must’ve been extremely deep, considering the fact that he was able to stash away the entire set. You wondered why he had been balancing them on his hands in the first place, if he had had such pockets available the entire time.

“That’ll be your homework, then, Y/N,” Hinode said. “Every day, you have to slowly but surely increase how much of your cursed energy the Sword of Syrinx will accept. Until the day comes that it’s entirely under your control, you’ll practice with a normal sword. It shouldn’t be a problem; it’s not like you need a special grade tool to spar against Nanami and Haibara, at least not at first.”

“Spar against who and what?” you said, glancing at the muscular Haibara and the towering Nanami, both of whom appeared to be slightly undefeatable for someone like you, someone who was lacking in training even more than knowledge.

“That’s how you get better,” Hinode said. “You practice against opponents who can really test you without the fear of them actually permanently harming you. It’s dangerous to go against cursed spirits without having experience using your technique in battle, you know.”

“I don’t even know how to properly hold a sword,” you said.

“We’re not going to spar with you until you’re ready,” Nanami said. Although he seemed generally annoyed about everything, there was a nagging thought in the back of your mind that he was just actually always like this and it was not something he could help or choose to do.

“If you want to get started now, you can go put the Sword of Syrinx in your room and meet us at the training grounds,” Hinode offered.

“Okay!” you said.

“I can show you the way, if you want,” Haibara said. “Since I doubt you know where the training grounds are.”

“Wait,” Hinode said with a shifty wink at Haibara, whose jaw dropped before he winked back in understanding. “Maybe Nanami should do it.”

“Huh?” you said.

“Why me?” Nanami said, true despair contorting his features. You wrinkled your nose.

“You didn’t have to say it like that,” you said. He ignored you.

“This better not be one of your schemes, Hinode!” he said. Hinode whistled innocently, shoving his hands in his pockets and speeding off, Haibara doing the same and leaving you and Nanami alone in the warehouse. For a moment, neither of you spoke, simply watching the empty doorway, utterly bewildered at what had just happened.

“What was that all about?” you said.

“Nothing,” Nanami said, stomping towards the door. “Let’s just go.”

“Oh, uh, Nanami,” you said, following after him, though without as much fuss and stomping. “I have to apologize.”

“Apologize? For what?” he said, stopping in his tracks and turning to you with pursed lips. He obviously expected the worst, and he was right to do so. After all, you had done the one thing he had told you not to.

“I…I told Gojo I thought his sandwich was good,” you said. His eyes widened, and he grabbed your shoulders, shaking you back and forth like he could imbue some sense into you if he did so.

“Why. Would. You. Do that?” he said.

“I really wanted the Sword of Syrinx!” you whined. “I thought if I flattered him, he’d be more likely to give it to me, but it turns out he would’ve given it to me anyways, so I did it for nothing!”

“He’s never going to leave you alone now,” Nanami said before instantly brightening. “Wait. Maybe this means he’ll leave me alone now!”

“Is he really that bad? I mean, he wasn’t horrible when I talked to him,” you said as you began to walk again. Nanami shook his head.

“See, the thing is, Haibara really looks up to Geto, one of the other second years and Gojo’s best friend. They have this whole mentor-mentee relationship, and I honestly respect it, because Geto is marginally more normal than Gojo. Gojo feels left out, though, and I think he’s been trying to cultivate that same relationship with me, but I am not interested in being mentored by some white-haired idiot that’s built like a tree, even if he is one of the strongest sorcerers alive,” he said.

“That’s harsh,” you said. “Seems like you have a lot of built up rage against him.”

“He got us matching t-shirts once,” Nanami said.

“That’s kind of cute,” you said, unlocking the door to your room and motioning for Nanami to come in. He did so hesitantly, tip-toeing over to your desk and sitting in the chair primly. He kept his back stiff and straight, his feet planted firmly on the floor, his hands folded in his lap uncomfortably.

“It is not cute! It’s degrading,” he said. You scanned the room, trying to find a good place to put the Sword of Syrinx.

“I don’t know, I think maybe you should wear it. It would probably make him happy,” you said.

“Never. Why would I feed into his nonsense?” he said. You settled for resting the sword atop your bookshelf, where it would be unlikely to fall or be knocked over by accident.

“Dunno, it was just a suggestion,” you said.

“Whatever. Like I said, he’s going to try to foster a bond between the two of you now, so I think I’m probably free from his clutches for the moment. I hope you can survive,” Nanami said.

“He’s not a natural disaster or anything. He’s just our upperclassman,” you said. “He’s definitely not as bad as you’re making him out to be. Now, let’s go, I’m sure Hinode and Haibara are waiting for us.”

“Don’t come complaining to me when he tries to get you to coordinate your outfits, then,” Nanami said.

“I think it would be nice to coordinate outfits with someone,” you said. Although you had had friends back home, they had never been best friends, they had never cared about you that deeply. Plus, when you got older, you had been considered something like a freak by those who genuinely got to know you, so while on the surface, you seemed popular and well-beloved, the end result was that you had spent much of your life almost entirely alone.

Haibara had rolled up his sleeves and was punching Hinode’s arm when you and Nanami joined them at the training grounds; for his part, Hinode was entirely unaffected, sipping on an iced coffee and occasionally swatting at Haibara’s hands.

“There you two are! We were beginning to think you guys got lost,” Hinode said, tossing the now-empty cup of iced coffee into a nearby trash can. “Alright, that’s enough, Haibara. Just because I drank bleach earlier doesn’t mean I’m entirely immune to pain.”

“It doesn’t?” Haibara said. “Oops. Sorry, sir.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hinode said. “It does numb most unpleasant sensations, so it’s more like a bug bite than a full on hit, but after a while, it grows tiresome. So, go beat up Nanami.”

“Maybe don’t do that,” Nanami said.

“Isn’t it a good plan?” Hinode said, ignoring Nanami’s protests completely. “You guys can have a practice match so that Y/N can see cursed techniques in action, as well as get a feel of what sparring is like. Plus, it’s been forever since you guys went all out in a spar, so it’ll be beneficial for you two, too.”

“Sounds good!” Haibara said. “I can try out my new knives, too!”

“They’re going to use actual cursed tools?” you said, moving to stand beside Hinode so that he could answer your questions as they arose. Nanami had pulled out a blunt blade wrapped in cloth from his bag, and Haibara was twirling his knives in between his fingers as he made his way to the dusty practice arena. Hinode hummed in assent.

“There’s no point in practicing with less. Of course, they’re only fighting until surrender, not death, so they’ll hold back the full power of the tools,” he said. You took your bottom lip between your teeth in worry.

“They won’t get hurt, right?” you said.

“Hurt is fine. We have a reverse cursed technique user on campus — one of the second years, Shoko Ieri — so if anything really bad happens, she can take care of it. Otherwise, though, they can just walk it off. Jujutsu sorcerers have more durable bodies, and we generally heal quicker, so minor injuries can be cured in a day’s rest, more or less,” he said.

“Still,” you protested weakly. Hinode gave you a calm look.

“Would you rather twist your ankle or lose your leg? It’s minor, in the grand scheme of things,” he said. “As for me, I would much prefer getting hit by Nanami or Haibara than a curse. Now, watch them carefully, I’m going to ask you questions about their fight afterwards.”

They had not quite yet begun in earnest. Nanami was crouching slightly, assessing the situation, while Haibara was jogging in place, warming up his muscles. Hinode whistled as if to remind them to get started, but they didn’t even acknowledge it, each focused only on the other, playing a game of waiting, of chicken, daring their opponent to go first but simultaneously refusing to be the one to rise to the bait.

All of a sudden, Haibara sprung into action, blitzing forward and then punching at Nanami with the ferocity of a tiger. It was strange to see the happy boy in this context, and you wondered how someone so kind could become such a vicious creature in the blink of an eye.

Nanami ducked out of the way of the hit and swept his leg into a graceful motion, kicking Haibara’s legs out from under him and knocking him off of his balance. Right as Haibara was about to thud onto his back, he reached his left hand out, catching himself in a back handspring and using his momentum to flip back to his feet while using his right hand to send a knife flying at Nanami.

“They’re going so fast,” you said in awe. All of this had happened in a couple of seconds, the two boys moving at speeds you did not even realize the human body was capable of attaining.

“They can go faster, but I’ll cut them some slack,” Hinode said. “They haven’t sparred in a bit, after all.”

Nanami brandished his sword and used it to deflect Haibara’s knife before smacking Haibara upside the head with it. Haibara was unable to dodge and settled for covering his most vulnerable spots with his hands, crouching so that Nanami barely inflicted any damage to him. Then he laughed and, while Nanami was still within his range, spun on his heel and punched him squarely in the gut. Nanami doubled over, and Haibara took advantage of his prone position to slam him into the ground. Haibara raised his foot to step on Nanami’s back and hold him in place, but before he could, Nanami rolled over, onto his back and out of the way.

“Oh, are we being serious about this?” he coughed out, pushing himself to his feet and gripping his sword. Haibara smirked.

“No point if we aren’t,” he responded.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do so much work,” Nanami said. Suddenly, the very air around him shifted, and he rushed towards Haibara, swinging his sword at him. At the last instant before impact, he spun the sword so that it was the flat side smacking against Haibara’s legs. Though the hit really shouldn’t have done anything to Haibara, it caused him to fall to the ground, his legs twitching uselessly as he slapped the ground in surrender.

“You win!” he yelped as Nanami walked towards him. As soon as he said that, Nanami offered him his hand, but Haibara shook his head. “My legs will take a second to recover. Give me a bit.”

“Sorry,” Nanami said. “You did say to go all out, though.”

“Nah, you’re good,” Haibara said. Both of their faces were red, and sweat dripped down their brows. Though the match had barely lasted a few minutes, they were as exhausted as if they had just run marathons. “I was too slow in reinforcing my legs with cursed energy. You wouldn’t have gotten me if I had.”

“Probably not,” Nanami agreed.

“What did you think, Y/N?” Hinode said.

“What did I think?” you said. “Well, it all happened so quick.”

“You should see Gojo and Geto when they spar. Now that’s fast,” he said. “Speed is important. Using cursed energy is taxing, so the quicker you can get your opponent out, the more likely you are to survive. Unlike sorcerers, curses have no issues using cursed energy, so if it comes to a battle of attrition, you will lose every time.”

“I get it. That’s why they both went for decisive blows every time instead of trying to wear down on each other with smaller strikes,” you said.

“Good!” Hinode said. “You’re quick on the uptake. That’s good, I hate dull students. Uh, but don’t tell my boss I said that, I’m not supposed to have preferences…”

“Your secret is safe with me,” you said, pretending to seal your lips shut. “Did Nanami use his cursed technique at the end? Is that why Haibara can’t stand up yet?”

“Yes, that’s correct. He didn’t put too much cursed energy into the technique, so Haibara should regain motion pretty soon, but that’s why such a lame hit managed to completely take his enemy out. That’s the power of an innate technique,” he said.

“You said that my innate technique, Hummingbird’s Blessing, allows its user to borrow the strength of the hummingbird,” you said, staring at the lines of your palm, flexing your fingers experimentally. “I still can’t quite figure out what that means, though.”

“Your technique hasn’t fully awakened yet. Although most people figure out their techniques when they’re young, for some reason, you didn’t. It might just take some time before you can properly utilize it to the fullest extent,” he said. “Don’t worry about it for the moment, though. Just practice with the Sword of Syrinx — even that alone will be enough to exorcise most curses,” he said.

“I see,” you said. “I will do that.”

“Come on, Y/N! Let’s get ice cream to celebrate Nanami’s win!” Haibara said. He had been yanked to his feet, presumably by Nanami, whose shoulder he was leaning on as he beckoned for you to join them.

“Isn’t it still the school day?” you said, looking at Hinode unsurely.

“I don’t care. There’s nothing else planned for today, so you guys can do whatever you want. Just remember to spend some time with the Sword of Syrinx later, alright?” he said.

“Yes, sir, I will! Thank you!” you said.

“Go on and have fun,” he said. You did not think twice before darting over to where Nanami and Haibara were waiting for you, Nanami with his trademark glum expression and Haibara as thrilled as always despite the fact that Nanami literally had to drag him along as he could still barely walk.

“By the way, Nanami said he’ll pay for everyone!”

“I did not!”

Later that night, when you were alone in your room and everyone else was surely asleep, you pulled the Sword of Syrinx out of its scabbard and sat on the floor with it in your lap. Deciding you might as well multitask, you began to painstakingly polish the sword before tentatively becoming aware of your cursed energy again.

You still didn’t know how to control it. Hinode hadn’t taught you, and you had no previous experience. You simply had to trust that your instincts would guide you well and that the sword would be amicable to your fumbling approaches.

“Nanami would probably call me stupid for this,” you said aloud before sighing. “But, uh, my name is Y/N L/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

It took a while for the sword to respond, as if it were carefully regarding you, judging you and trying to decide if you were worthy to wield it. You continued to doggedly polish the blade — even if you did not keep it, even if you had to give it back to Gojo and the cursed tools warehouse, at least you would return it in a better condition than you had taken it.

Of course, swords could not talk, and this one was no exception. But at the same time, this was not an ordinary sword; it was the Special Grade Cursed Tool, Sword of Syrinx, and so some rules could be bent. Though it could not speak, its cursed energy had a language of its own, not direct speech but emotions, feelings, sensations. That was why, when the sword decided to accept you, you could feel its happiness, its sense of belonging, as if it had finally returned to someone it had lost.

A single tear traced its way down your cheek and splashed onto the iridescent blade. You weren’t sure where it had come from or why you were crying, but regardless, you wiped it off, though you let your finger linger on the cool metal.

It took a moment, but eventually, in its own way, the sword responded.

Hello.

[coco-goat-milk]

steal the thunder - I -

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x fem!sorcerer!reader Word count: 5.8k Tags/warnings: no y/n; unhinged reader; manga spoilers (Culling Games + Perfect Preparation arcs); fight description; canon-typical violence; there will be eventual smut in the later parts fyi Summary: There's murder in the air – with the Culling Games underway, a simple task of finding an angel turns to a fight for life when you meet a certain, static and 400 years old sorcerer with cyan hair and wicked intentions.

Artwork by poro (poro06625649) on Twittter [source]; divider by @skylightlantern [source] For a better understanding of the reader's CE and CT, visit this Tumblr post.

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

There's murder in the air – an unsettling undertone that pollutes the atmosphere. Gentle breeze carrying the metallic fragrance of blood within its currents.

The dockside keeps quiet. Sky clear, devoid of seagull calls. Walking by colossal steel shipping containers, stacked high, the scent persists. Clings to the air like a persistent specter. Each step accompanied by the gentle lap of waves against the pilings, their rhythmic cadence a stark contrast to the horrors you've seen.A soothing lullaby in the midst of chaos.

The maze-like layout of the quayside comes to an end when your muscles strain, lifting off the ground and landing atop the steel structure.

A giant panda comes into view. Its relaxed posture, perched on hindlimbs, contrasts with its impassive countenance as it gazes your way.

"Panda," you address what some might believe to be an actual animal; innocent, cute and completely harmless. Except for this Cursed Corpse – your subordinate – is none of those things.

He fixes you with your very name; a disturbing familiarity in his eyes, then the words escape his lips.

"The smell of blood's so thick," he voices as you draw near, words cutting through the tension. "There must be about three people dismembered here–"

You hold up two fingers, the other hand nestled in your pocket.

"Two actually," you intervene, voice a measured interruption, "walked past a man with a hole the size of a soccer ball in his chest."

The memory resurfaces – the sight of the man, head drooping, neck bent at an unnatural angle. Eerie web-like burns sprawled across his bare flesh. The smell of singed skin and ozone hangs in the air, a pungent reminder. Yet, it's not just that which jolts your senses. It's the residual static of someone's cursed energy, an unsettling presence that lingers.

"But that's not what troubles me," continuing, you stand next to Panda, arms now crossed as both of you watch the lifeless skies, "something bad's here. I tried following the remnants of the cursed energy of the perpetrator but it was very faint."

"Could be an expert who can turn their cursed energy on and off at will…" Panda thinks out loud.

You let the idea sit for a second. Could it be the case? Could someone in this colony be capable of doing it? Known, registered sorcerers are absent here. The majority are newly awakened, scarcely equipped to comprehend a sophisticated notion like this. And why would they feel the need to hide their cursed energy?

No.

Dismissing your doubts, you shake your head and stride toward the edge of the shipping container.

"Don't think so. Nevertheless, we're here to find that angel girl and negotiate with her." Stepping onto the container's edge, unfazed by the high drop; balancing skillfully, you extend one leg over the edge, about to step into empty space. In a seamless motion, you touch down on the solid concrete ground below.

Panda follows suit, rolling off the shipping container with agility, landing right beside you. Then he stands, an odd combination of human-like stance and panda appearance, more akin to a person in a panda costume than an actual animal.

"Our safest bet is to leave the docks. Fast. Just play pretend, avoid any unnecessary conflicts and make it out of this colony in one piec–"

The sentence's left hanging as a sudden shift in the atmosphere catches your attention. Panda falls on all fours, frozen still.

"Ah," a deeper, resonant voice rumbles from your right, the words echoing as the familiar sensation washes over you. A sudden buzz inside your mind, an abrupt surge of awareness regarding another sorcerer's presence. Heart mirroring the rapid flutter of a startled bird's wings.

Their cursed energy, concealed and latent, manages to evoke an almost primal response within you. A sense of fight or flight.

You pivot to face the uninvited presence before you.

A cascade of hair, vivid as a robin's egg and kissed by the hues of a clear summer sky, is gathered into twin buns atop his head while tendrils of untamed locks dance freely in the breeze, resembling a stormy sea. Longer bangs frame the contours of his face, softening his visage.

He stops when his eyes – the same uncanny shade as his hair – bore into yours. Carrying what you'd guess is a Nyoi staff slung over his shoulder, he stands at a slight angle. Excludes casual confidence, a sense of poised readiness.

"Another one," he breaks the silence. You stand your ground in response to his observation.

"Not interested in a fight," you remark, hands risen in a defensive gesture. Yet you don't dare take your eyes off the sorcerer. Ready and composed.

Panda, ostensibly cautious, inches closer to you, fur bristling in sync with his unease towards the newcomer's presence. The air tightens, charged with the unspoken potential for violence.

"Kogane," he calls out to the shikigami, summoning it like a wisp from the aether; the small creature materializes, its hue the shade of a serene lake, light and amicable as it floats near his head, "is the panda a player too?"

The shikigami screeches its answer, its words setting everything in motion.

"Indeed!! A player! Yep!!"

"That's a function," your pondering voice meets a forced silence. The state of perturbed ambiance vanishing as your thoughts are cut off.

A flesh of white. Empty space occupies the spot where the sorcerer was standing less than a second ago.

You sense his presence before your eyes even settle on his countenance; his eyes, framed with short zig-zag lines reminiscent of lightning bolts underneath them, a furious cauldron of murderous excitement as they lock onto yours. They widen with a manic intensity. An undertone of madness lurking deep within their depths.

A predator's gaze fixated on its prey.

In a heart-stopping moment, time stands still. The world around you fades into a blur as a primal instinct takes over. Your body reacts; a precision born of pure reflex – muscles coiled like springs, you counter his attack with a swift and calculated movement.

His volatile energy crackles in the air. Your hands snap up. Fingers attempting to curl around his bandaged forearm. Channeling your cursed energy to your clavicles, the place where his palm lays flat against you –

But your reactions prove inadequate. You're too slow. A shocking speed and heavy push; a surge of force is sent through your body, catching you off-guard. The ground beneath you becomes a temporary adversary. Your balance disrupted as you're sent flying backward.

Back colliding with the hard, metal steel of a shipping container – you watch in horror as the sorcerer mercilessly attacks Panda. Using his staff as a weapon. With unnatural speed and agility, Panda struggles against him; his valiant resistance a testament to his determination, his form a blur of motion as he evades the sorcerer's attacks and manages a few good blows of his own.

Your body feels light. A tingling sensation surging through your veins. Electric current's rushing beneath your skin, setting your pulse racing and your focus to a razor's edge. The metallic taste of blood floods your mouth. Mingles with the adrenaline in your body. Every nerve firing in response to the raw energy pulsing through your body.

It hits you then–

"Heh, electricity," you mumble, the word slipping from your lips as you raise your palms, clenching your fists. Feeling the tingling in the tips of your fingers. The slight buzzing in your ears.

–his cursed energy has a special trait. One certainly hard to defend against.

Barely seconds have passed since your body was forced to rest against the ground. It still feels too long with Panda barely matching the man's speed and force.

Gritting your teeth, the urgency of the situation anchors you, overriding any pain or disorientation as you fight to regain your footing. A sense of pride fills you when you watch Panda use his technique, striking the sorcerer with enough force that'll easily knock him out cold. One of Panda's winning moves.

Except it doesn't.

"Nice one," the man's voice rings out. A taut smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Your teeth clench, disbelief intertwining with unease as you watch. With a predominated precision, the sorcerer maneuvers his staff, entwining it with Panda's arm in a smooth motion that catches you off guard.

Exerting a forceful pull, he forces a grimace from Panda. Right arm caught in the vice-like grip, a sickening crack underscores the moment. Followed by the nauseating sensation of Panda's arm being torn from his body. Violently. And mercilessly.

Panda stumbles. Pain and agony escaping in a cry. The sorcerer doesn't waste a second. Hurls the arm back at Panda, using the momentum to charge forward. Palm aiming flat against his chest, he sends Panda flying backward – the same way he did to you. Causing your junior to experience a similar sensation to yours.

The cyan-haired man straightens, seemingly relaxing, already content with winning the fight.

"But I'm not impressed," he taunts, words an ominous echo of the violence just unleashed, "It's too ordinary."

Feeling the concrete beneath your feet, you take deliberate steps forward. With an inkling of Panda's potential strategy, you expel the pooled blood from your mouth, spitting it onto the ground.

"...Sukuna, you know where he is?" The man's words flow, attention diverted, ignorant of your presence.

A fortunate circumstance.

"No clue," Panda responds. His reply burdened with weariness and defeat; yet his gaze remained fixed on you, a silent exchange of understanding passing between you as you position yourself, tension radiating from his weary form.

The sorcerer scoffs; a contemptuous tilt of his head, a gesture laden with superiority. "Sounds like you know something, then," he snarls, his grip on the staff constricting as his fist clenches, "Spit it out. I'll be merciful."

With the sorcerer's back turned you raise your arm. Your gaze remains fixed upon the convergence point of the two delicate lines, their path crossing at the very heart of the expanse that's the upper part of his broad back.

"I won't be," you declare; voice carrying a firm tone. A deft flick of your wrist – the current of cursed energy takes the desired shape before it's hurled toward your target. Slashing the air in front of you, aimed right at him.

His gaze veers to the side. And in a fraction of a heartbeat, he moves; executing a skillful sidestep. Body positioned to face you from the side, both hands now gripping his staff, aiming it at you; a glint of fervor ignites his eyes as they widen, locked onto the shipping container stationed behind Panda. The unforgiving force of your attack rends the shipping container apart, leaving two gaping slashes that could bisect a man.

You don't give him time to react properly.

The moment blood begins to stain his white robe crimson red from the nick on his shoulder, you lunge forward. Like a bull being waved a red flag. Feet imbued with your cursed energy, reinforced to ensure protection.

As you close the distance at a breakneck pace, you sense the distinct composition of his cursed energy. With your fingers curled around the staff, your eyes meet his, a faint grin playing at the corners of your mouth as you tug on his weapon with your full body weight. Lifting your legs off the ground, you use the staff as a fulcrum. His body feels resilient, akin to forged steel, against the soles of your shoes.

With the potency of your cursed technique coursing through your strike, the man is propelled backward, his body hurtling through the air. The Nyoi staff clings to the concrete. Left untouched upon the impact.

Flying through a shipping container, he quickly finds his footing. Stance shifting in response to your aerial maneuver. Legs splayed to establish a firm foundation, you focus your intent on targeting his jaw. Fists charged with cursed energy, you hit once; knowing how troublesome the push-and-pull effect of your technique feels once your flesh makes contact–

"Not bad," he manages to spit out, the corner of his lip stained red. A smile tugs at the corner of his lip as you sprint toward him.

The surroundings blur into a muddled backdrop, irrelevant in your unwavering concentration. The sorcerer becomes the sole axis, a focal point in a world that seems to slow to a crawl, even though only a fraction of a second has passed.

The tip of your foot touches his; a mere whisper of contact between two opposing forces.

"Not bad at all."

–he counterattacks. Hand darts forward. Grabs your wrist. With an economy of motion, he employs your own momentum against you. His grip becomes a pivot, briefly throwing you off-balance, diverting your forward surge into an unexpected spiral.

Fluidity. That's how you'd characterize his movements. A seamless transition from being a passive target to an active agent.

His chest brushes against your back as his right hand remains locked around your right wrist. Single-handedly swinging your body like a marionette, you exploit the vulnerability of your position. Using his grip as leverage to move backward, simultaneously grabbing hold of his bandaged left forearm and pulling. Crashing your body into his, redirecting the movement into a collision.

With a potent surge of intention, you force the prepared rejection and attraction effect within your clenched fist, propelling it like a bolt toward the rear of your skull. Teeth gritted, you throw your head back.

Crack.

He stifles a groan, a step taken back but footing resolute. A red trail paints his nose as you swivel to confront him. Pausing briefly to charge your energy again, you grant him a moment to speak. His expression freezes as he locks eyes with you

"You," he speaks up, his voice textured with the tang of iron as his tongue grazes his lips, "Have we met before?"

With your hand still tingling, the ripples of sensation spread up your arm, an electric current tracing a pattern beneath your skin. Your head sways subtly, dispelling the notion of a previous encounter. "Unlikely. You'd be history."

A chuckle dances from his lips, a response to your retort. "What's your name then?"

You share it deliberately, each syllable a measured beat in your dance around one another. He nods, his head tilting with self-assured grace. It's then that he takes his stance – feet planted firmly, palms outstretched, a grin playing on his lips.

"The name's Hajime Kashimo."

The words hang, a telltale echo–

Hajime Kashimo.

–recognition snaps into place when you repeat his name in your mind.

The Hajime Kashimo, the sorcerer whose score reaches a hundred points; a mark that sets him apart from any other Culling game player (except for the intricate Hiromi Higuruma). Hakari's elusive target.

And here, right before you, stands the man himself.

"Hey," you call out, a new determination blossoming, your stance embracing the challenge; retreat is no longer a consideration, "if I beat you, can I get your points?"

The corners of Kashimo's lips twitch, smile fading like a wisp of smoke carried away by the wind. Expression blank, with only his brows furrowed as he responds, "Sure, but you tell me everything y'know about Sukuna," his voice lowered to a dangerous undertone, a velvet threat veiled in words, "that is–if you're still alive."

He charges then. Doesn't spare a single consideration. The air crackles with tension as his presence engulfs you. His hands make contact – not with fists or strikes – but with the calculated pressure of his open palms. You feel the weight of his touch on your skin. Pressure on your left, then on your right ribcage.

"Don't disappoint me now," breath tickles your ear, voice a tantalizing, dangerous melody. His fingers anchor firmly onto your right shoulder, an assertive grip that both commands and unsettles, while his other hand exerts a calculated force on your left shoulder guard, propelling you into a spin.

Your training surges forth, a symphony of muscle memory and instinct harmonizing within you. With the resilience born of countless battles, you swiftly adapt your stance, shifting your weight to face him.

An annoyed huff leaves your now-bruised lips. You channel your own cursed energy, a torrent of power surging through your veins.

Detain an attack when it comes,–

Knees bending, body swaying to evade the incoming fist; your left hand grips his left wrist, fingers tightening with determination, followed by your right driving into its intended mark.

–and send it away when it retreats.

Your palm meets the solid plane of his chest with a resonant thud; pushes and then pulls him back to you before sending him away again; successfully pushing back against Kashimo's pressure. It's a momentary reprieve. One that sends the sorcerer tumbling back, makes him roll on the ground, lending on one knee.

"Here I thought we were just getting started," you quip with a hint of playfulness amidst the dance of combat. Moving swiftly towards the target. As Kashimo's force ebbs, you seize the opportunity, your muscles coiling like springs.

"You're getting me–" he barely makes it back to his feet before you're at him again. With enough cursed energy imbued into your foot, utilizing the momentum of your motion, leg rising up in a calculated kick – only for Kashimo to shift; a fraction of movement that proves decisive. His arm weaves beneath the arc of your thigh, a sinuous and serpentine maneuver that seeks to entwine and subdue. As his grasp tightens, his fingers snake around your throat, lifting you from the ground, suspending you momentarily.

"–quite excited," he concludes, his voice tinged with an eerie excitement.

Once the hand is freed from contact,–

A heartbeat's pause feels like an eternity. With your legs rendered weightless and no stable ground beneath you. Despite the vulnerable position, your mind remains steadfast, honing in on Kashimo's Achilles heel. His hands are preoccupied, his grasp unwavering but his neck and face exposed.

–carry out a strike with it.

Seizing the opportunity, you make the most of the opening. Your palms press against the sharp contours of his cheeks, each hand finding its place on one side of his face. In one swift and deliberate motion, you channel the wellspring of cursed energy that resides within you into your technique. The currents of your energy converge between your palms, weaving a tapestry of arcane force that manifests as a palpable vacuum, centered precisely where his head rests.

It's an intentional manipulation. One – if done right, that is – could even lead to a cataclysmic implosion. A violent severing of life from the body. But you don't want to kill him; not yet at least. You need the points. And so, you temper your approach, exerting only the necessary amount of energy to induce a sensation of compression.

As the feeling envelops him, Kashimo's expression shifts, a flicker of realization that dances within his eyes. He instinctively withdraws. Bandaged forearms push at your body, sending you hurtling backward; a testament to his strength and strategic finesse.

"You cheeky little thing," a bead of blood traces a path from the corner of his eye. At the same time, another droplet emerges from his nose.

This time it's him who doesn't let you regain enough control as he charges at you. His approach swift and unrelenting. The tables are constantly turning – now being his time to dictate the tempo.

Another dance of offense and defense plays out as the two of you clash once again. Each move a deliberate response to the other's actions.

Chase the movement of the opponent–

As the flurry of his strikes slices through the air, you find yourself navigating the ebb and flow with a synchronicity that borders on the sublime. With a hawk-like focus, you track the trajectory of his hand, your senses attuned to his every motion.

While his hits continue to swing through both empty space and meeting your body, a fleeting opportunity presents itself. With the precision of a seasoned sorcerer, you follow the path of his hand with your own, fingers closing around his forearm as it narrowly misses your cheekbone, the other digging into the open slash wound on his shoulder.

–to continue the attack.

It earns you a hiss. A "Tsk," coming from his damaged lips.

One fluid motion; one that belies your strength. You capitalize on the momentum of his own swing, utilizing your grip to exert control. Your foot surges forward with unbridled force, the sole of your shoe connecting with the vulnerable juncture of his knee.

Kashimo's reflexes kick in as he instinctively leaps back the moment your foot makes contact with his leg. His visage bears the marks of battle, a canvas adorned with streaks of red, the vestiges of blood from the prior exchange. A mirror to his appearance, your own face likely reflects a similar narrative. Marked by the intensity of the confrontation. By his pure, physical prowess. One that, even if you use all your cursed energy, you're certain you couldn't match.

The shadows of weariness begin to cast their subtle touch on you. A weight that tempers your movements and shadows the clarity of your thoughts. Each calculated step, each strategic strike, seems to bear an additional burden now.

Still, resolute, your unwavering determination fixated on Kashimo, persevering in the face of creeping exhaustion.

Then you take off.

With a surge of action, you propel yourself into motion. Pivoting on your heel, you sprint toward the towering container crane a mere few meters behind. Kashimo's quick thinking registers in the corner of your vision—a flash of white on your right, drawing nearer.

"Running so soon?"

His taunting words reach you.

"Just limbering up," you reply. Muscles tensing, you feel his energy almost brushing against your own. So, with a leap, you vault into the air. Fingers curling around your ankle.

Time seems to slow as Kashimo's grip tightens around your ankle, his fingers like a vice attempting to anchor you to the ground. The world spins around you, the crane's towering structure becoming a blur as your body is abruptly yanked back, denied the freedom of flight.

Instinct kicks in, your mind racing to find a solution. With a swift twist of your body, you channel the energy within, your cursed power surging to your fingertips. A burst of force courses through your arm, the concentrated energy propelling your free leg forward in a powerful kick. Your heel connects with Kashimo's face, the impact forcing his grip to release.

In the split second of regained freedom, your body soars toward the container crane.

Muscles strained, you manage to grab hold of a protruding metal edge, fingers gripping with an iron determination. The harsh clang of metal meeting metal reverberates through the air as your body comes to a halt, swinging slightly from the momentum before you propel yourself higher onto the structure.

A smirk tugs at the corners of your lips. The distance between you and Kashimo now a tangible reminder of your evasion. His frustrated gaze meets yours, the tension between you electric and palpable.

"Nice try," you retort, voice laced with a mixture of weariness and defiance. There's an undeniable satisfaction in defying his grasp, in proving your prowess even amid exhaustion. Without wasting a moment longer, you hoist yourself up more, using the crane's structure to propel your body upward. Your form melds with the steel as you ascend, a maneuver to gain the vantage point.

Gotta limit his movement to the minimum.

Kashimo's expression shifts, a glint of admiration piercing through his irritation. "Impressive," he concedes, the words carrying an unexpected note of respect, "but you can't run from me."

He follows your lead. The two of you ascending the crane in a synchronized rhythm

"I told you, Kashimo–," you declare, your voice echoing between the steel beams as you reach the crane's zenith, standing face to face on the narrowest edge.

Now standing face to face on the crane's uppermost beam, the narrow back reach providing only small support. Your breath heaves, each inhalation a reminder of the intense exertion. Across from you, Kashimo's gaze remains fixed upon you, his expression deceptively relaxed.

"–that I'm only stretching."

His eyes, however, tell a different story – a depth of focus that cuts through your form. Anchoring onto you with an unwavering intensity.

A mournful melody weaves through the metal lattice, the wind's haunting whistle creating an eerie harmony with the tension in the air. The gusts playfully tousle both your hair in the process. You steady yourself into a stance, your body a testament to both resilience and purpose.

"Plus I want those points," you remark, a hint of determination coloring your words.

It's then that you charge — cursed energy flowing through your body like currents of compressed emptiness. A void. Unyielding. Relentless. And pneumatic.

With a flick of your wrist, you send it slicing through the air. A blade of nothing. A thin line etches across his chest, traversing from ribcage to his already wounded shoulder — a mark of your earlier endeavor. Nowhere to dodge now that he's standing between two metal beams.

Or so you thought.

Kashimo charges. The white of his robe tainted with scarlet. The cut isn't deep.

He must've reinforced his cursed energy.

"Tsk," you utter. A flicker of irritation crosses your features. Agitated. With waning stamina, the dwindling reservoir of cursed energy depleted by your previous usage; this could've been your last-ditch effort.

The final move.

And it failed.

It makes him smile. A sinister twist of lips that morphs into a grin. Moving fast, his expression resembles one of a predator closing in on its prey. The ruby stain on his robe seems to accentuate his aura of danger, a stark contrast to the pristine white it once was.

As your body contorts and arches backward, you skillfully evade the incoming fist aimed at your face. Your unwavering gaze remains locked onto his intense stare. With your palm pressed flat against the ground of the crane, you swiftly raise your leg, delivering a targeted strike to the meat of his thigh.

But before your maneuver can fully unfold, his hand seizes your ankle, pulling you towards him and locking your leg in place as he maneuvers over your body. Kashimo's grin widens, a predatory glint in his eyes that triggers a ripple of unease down your spine.

As his fist whizzes past your face, you seize the opportune moment to mount a counterattack. His fingers, still harshly locked around your right ankle, you push and pull against his grasp. Leg successfully moving to close over his thigh, the other hooking around his hip.

Legs now firmly encircling his waist, you use every ounce of your strength to push. Destabilize the sorcerer. Break his foundation. Disrupt his equilibrium.

The outcome? Both of you soaring through the air and down the crane. Kashimo's form aligns perfectly with the approaching solidity of the dockside concrete.

A rapid free fall, gravity's pull unrelenting.

If you're not getting the points, he's not getting his answers either.

His eyes momentarily flit to the ground below. Unspoken recognition of the shared peril that binds you both. The realization dawns in his eyes, widening them momentarily, before his gaze settles onto your face once more – unimpressed. Jaded.

"Oops," you jest under your breath, fingers finding purchase on the fabric of his torn clothes. An unhinged smile on your lips, eyebrows lifting in a mix of audacity and exhilaration. The wind sweeps through, rustling your hair with a cool caress that contrasts starkly with the warm stickiness of blood on your skin.

"It's accumulated enough."

That's the only forewarning you get. In an instant, the atmosphere shifts; an electrifying tension that dances along your skin. You sense the already familiar tingling as the static charges from the man beneath you. Kashimo's cursed energy now gaining intensity.

His open hand thrusts towards your face, a surge of energy gathering at his fingertips. Only to get countered by your own palm. Flat against each other. Forcing a focal point of energy converges and resistance to form. As the push effect comes into play just in time with waves of electricity.

The crackling intensity escalates, its tendrils reaching out with an insatiable hunger. Only to be pushed back by your own manipulation acting as a steadfast wall. It's a symphony of sensations — the tingling of your skin, the hum of power in the air, the gradual crescendo of pressure between your palms. The vortex throbs and pulses, a living embodiment of the forces you both wield.

The thing is – The conductivity of the vacuum…depending on how you look at it, it behaves in two different ways:

Firstly, when you examine the motion of charged particles with a constant velocity within a vacuum, you encounter an interesting phenomenon. Unlike in other mediums, there is no opposing force acting against these particles. Consequently, maintaining a steady current across any surface within a vacuum demands no additional effort.

However, a contrasting phenomenon manifests when we consider the existence of free charges within conductors. When an electric field, denoted as E, is imposed upon a conductor, it triggers a flow of electric current. This internal charge movement gives rise to a current density described by the equation: J = σE, where σ symbolizes the conductivity of the material. Notably, within a vacuum, σ assumes a value of 0; hence, electric fields lack the capacity to spontaneously induce current flow.

In this context, the vacuum departs from the role of a conductor. Even materials known as insulators, which typically restrict the flow of current, possess conductivity values that are low but not completely absent.

As a result, the resistance exhibited by a vacuum effectively amounts to infinity—particularly when you define resistance through the lens of how charge carriers in a substance respond. Viewed from this perspective, you could liken the vacuum to an insulator, given the absence of charge carriers that are essential for the propagation of electric current.

So in the end, your innate ability functions like an antistatic force.

It should be enough to counter his attack. Neutralizing his endeavor and ricocheting it back to him. Only if his other hand, clenched into a fist, suddenly hasn't entered your line of sight, aiming for your jaw.

The controlled push-only effect falters. Then crumbles. The void's pull reclaims all that Kashimo had imparted, drawing it back with an insatiable greed.

"Damn you." It now comes down to the last aspect of your technique.

Implosion.

The energies within your vacuum field converge, collapsing inwards with a blinding intensity. A jarring impact against the back of your head – or it might be the ending of your fall. Everything's just confusing. Everything blurs into a disorienting haze of continuous events.

The unforgiving touch of concrete grates against your scraped back. Each breath, now shallow and ragged, causes pain.

Above, the sky stretches wide and boundless. Until the sight is blocked by a mop of cerulean blue hair. Two buns somehow still in place. Same-colored eyes staring at your form. Arms folded and a countenance marred by bloodstains and scrapes. Each leg positioned on either side of your hips before one presses against the flat of your clavicles.

"You're quite durable," Kashimo retorts, pushing his weight down on you, "that should've killed you right there."

"Heh," you manage a wry chuckle, your voice strained but defiant, "guess I'm full of surprises."

He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of almost-amusement dancing in his eyes. The world around you seems to blur at the edges, the strain of the plummet combined with the failed attempt of your innate technique taking a heavy toll on your senses.

"It's been a while since I've encountered someone who can keep me on my toes this long. Now tell me," your name rolls off his tongue in a taunting lilt, "where's Sukuna?"

The distant sounds of the dockside begin to fade, replaced by an eerie emptiness. Despite your unwavering determination, a tide of dizziness threatens to engulf you, and you struggle to maintain your focus on Kashimo's face.

"On vaca–"

The weight on your chest vanishes abruptly. Kashimo's foot makes fleeting contact with your cheek before returning to its original place.

"Don't play with me. Spit it out."

"Oi," a voice calls to your right. A voice you know; Hakari's, "It's not very chivalrous to strike a lady like that."

From here, everything dissolves into darkness.

The world sways, a disorienting dance of shadows and sensations. Light pressure settles on your stomach with sounds echoing faintly in the distance. A gentle, steady rhythm envelops you as if you're being cradled in a cocoon of safety. Your limbs feel weightless, as though the ground beneath you has transformed into a soft cloud that carries your burdens away.

Your mind struggles to tether itself to the present, grappling with the fragments of consciousness that slip through your grasp. Colors blur, merging into a hazy kaleidoscope of fleeting images. The arms that encircle you exude warmth thought. One that lulls you back to sleep.

Yet you manage to summon the strength to part your heavy eyelids. Through the haze, you see a blur of black and white on top of you. Head resting upon something firm and solid – a breastplate, you realize. The rhythmic cadence that envelops you is accompanied by the subtle rise and fall of breath, a heartbeat that resonates beneath your cheek.

"Panda," you murmur, voice a tentative whisper as you attempt to comprehend whether or not you're dreaming, considering the creature on you is now a size of an actual teddy bear.

The toy-sized Panda remains seated on you but looks your way, emitting a surprised yelp at the sound of your voice, before swiftly turning his gaze forward again, "Hakari, she's awake!"

Your vision – still blurred – manages to trace a figure walking at the edge of your peripheral sight – left arm missing, shirt gone (he's shirtless, you discern), and crowned with purple hair. Hakari. But if Hakari's walking in front of you. Then…

Lifting your eyes, you suddenly lock onto a fleeting sight of vibrant cyan hair. The once-pristine white attire now soaked and marred with splotches of vivid red, creating an unsettling contrast. Your heart skips a beat as the realization dawns upon you.

It's Kashimo who bears the weight of your limp form.

"She's gonna pass out soon again," his voice carries vibrations that travel from his chest to your cheek with his gaze fixed upon you.

And he's right as your body, weary and battered, succumbs once more to the embrace of slumber.

[coco-goat-milk]

Stinky

I ate durian and i wanna kiss people.

Absolute crack,OOC

I am asian, durian is nothing to me, just some sweet soft fruit

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In another universe..

[coco-goat-milk]

Sick and tired of people who keep spoiling, like im just here reading fics but i keep seeing spoilers.

Its so fucking annoying.

[coco-goat-milk]

This is so beautifully written, fell in love fr

♡ ､､ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

꒰summary—wc꒱ poor, poor rosalyne. 1173 words.

꒰warnings꒱ major character death, angst w/ unhappy ending, reader is a fatui soldier, barely edited.

꒰adi moment꒱ still can't believe they robbed us of playable signora when she's literally my wife and we're literally happily married and just celebrated our anniversary together smhhh ꒰struggling to cope꒱! would like to be delulu and hope she gets revived somehow, cuz she fr deserves it. anyway, hope you enjoy! ໒꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀི১

Celestia does not pity the sinners.

When you'd first found yourself involved with the Fatui, your failure to pay back your father's loans indebting you to the organization, you'd already known that you'd be destined for a bad ending. When you'd first found yourself being placed beneath the authority of the Eight Harbinger, you were surprised that Celestia did not strike you down right then and there. Namely, because unlike the other wide-eyed recruits that stood at the entryway of her manor, your cheeks were not tinted pink by the sub-zero temperatures. 

She was an interesting person, laced in webs of contradiction and mystery. She boasted a haughty personality, a sharp tongue that could slice through the egos of even her most self-conceited underlings. She dressed herself in luxurious shades of red, hair elegantly styled and makeup perfectly applied. But there was something strange that lurked beneath the surface of icy-blue eyes, like a flame, one that was too stubborn to be snuffed out—brazen, and burning beneath layers of snow and frost. Her face was fair, long hair draped over half of it, but in moments where she turned too fast, or the wind picked up, you could see charred flesh beneath it—a reminder, it seemed, to something she wished to forget.

Her home was warm, the furniture all imported from Mondstadt, a land of freedom that many deserters fantasized about escaping to. A fire burned within the servant's quarters, your colleagues and you huddling by it whenever the night fell and you'd been released from your duties. And yet, despite the feelings of positivity that her choices in furnishings tried to radiate, she seemed to be a bitter woman—locked in invisible shackles and tugged along like a doll. 

Oh, and you knew she was aware of your blind devotion, aware of the way that your back straightened up whenever you heard her heels clicking against wood paneling, aware of the sparks of awe that danced around in still-bright eyes.

What you didn't know, however, was the fact that she'd reward it.

The feeling of her arms languidly wrapping themselves around your waist, tugging you close and trapping you on her lap as she'd complete paperwork. The feeling of long nails gracefully sifting through your hair, tugging out any tangles she'd find along the way because, of course, she was not one to be deterred—and it was impossible to be annoyed by this trait when she'd coo so gently in response to your whimpers. The feeling of your lips on hers, flesh soft but oh so cold, with a near intolerable heat that thrummed beneath it. 

All these feelings, and the ways that she'd allow you to spoil yourself in her love. But how, so quickly, she'd push you from her embrace the second a knocking came at her door, leaving you to compose yourself within a second as she beckoned for her visitors to enter. How they'd leave, and in the next second you'd already be draping yourself against her, bodies intertwining in a hardly useful attempt to combat the room's constant chill. ꒰At the very least, it was more effective for her than you.꒱

How the pathway to her personal chambers would become so familiar, with her commanding you to come and meet her after all of the other soldiers you shared your quarters with drifted off to sleep. And, oh, how you'd listen, awoken before the crack of dawn by the feeling of her lips and a soft hum in order to scurry back before anybody could note your disappearance.

When did all of those feelings become familiar to you?

And, when did those feelings become strange once again?

"The Eighth is dead?!" You hear, once again, a shrill shriek that grates on your eardrums as it reverberates through the common room. Another Fatuus has just been informed of her fate, it seems, a newer recruit from the House of Hearth that you hadn't had the chance to properly introduce yourself to. Not that it even mattered anymore. 

You sigh, for what seems like the hundredth time within the hour, a futile attempt at keeping the tears brimming in your eyes from spilling over, from keeping the wail bubbling inside of your throat from escaping.

La Signora is dead. 

Your lover, dead.

Dead, in a foreign land, practically on the other side of Teyvat, on a mission she'd insisted she'd return alive from.

Dead, on a mission that—when you'd initially questioned her about it—caused a prideful sneer to emerge on her face, familiar fingers gently pinching your lips shut as she teased you for your concern.

Dead, on a mission that she'd outright refused to let you accompany her on, half-jokingly stating that she didn't wish for the other Harbingers stationed there to catch a glimpse at you—stating that they might just fall in love at first glance, and she didn't want to share.

Looking back, you should've protested her decision more, insisted more instead of looking away to hide the red hue dusting your cheeks. You should've begged, even, instead of allowing her to steal a kiss from you, lips lingering with an unspoken promise of return that could now never be fulfilled. You should've followed, even if it would've made her upset, instead of allowing her to depart from the estate and board the one-way ship at the harbor, leaving you behind for good. 

Anything, anything. You should've—would've done anything, if it had the chance of making her stay.

Unlike her fellow Harbingers, you would not be granted the honors of peering into her casket, witnessing her remains before her manor—and her, by extension—are sealed away forever—a memory hidden away in the snow. ꒰You cannot decide if that makes you relieved or upset, because thinking about it for too long instead makes you wish to vomit.꒱ 

Instead, you are made to pack your belongings, flowers native to Mondstadt that she'd gifted you pressed beneath your pillow—not that you even slept on it all that often to begin with. You hold them as though they're made of glass, hands trembling and vision blurring as you attempt to keep even a single one of your teardrops from sullying them.

"What a shame, it is, that she was so far out of the Archons' favor." Comes a hushed murmur from another soldier, a recruit who'd been enlisted around the same time as you, devout to the point where you'd questioned their motivations for joining the ranks of such a morally ambiguous force.

A bitter laugh escapes your mouth at that, shoulders tensing as it devolves into nothing more than a strained sob. And while a part of you aches to destroy them, to rip them apart in some cruel way of reminding yourself that whatever you had with that woman is gone—you don't—simply shoving them back into their hiding space, hoping that they're also preserved within the icy wasteland that will soon take over your old home.

Poor, poor Rosalyne. 

Celestia does not pity the sinners. 

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

[coco-goat-milk]

no more "in my humble opinion", from now on it's "from my grandiose and objectively correct deductions".

[coco-goat-milk]

You always got strange looks whenever you fed the neighborhood ravens. “I give them food, they give me company,” you’d say. One day, a raven excitedly comes up to you and whispers, “A neighbor plots against you, my lord.”

[coco-goat-milk]

[coco-goat-milk]

Hi! I love your work and hope you’re doing well! Can I request Tecchou, Chuuya, and Dazai with an s/o who doesn’t see the consequences of risking their life? Sorry if that doesn’t make sense but thank you!

𝐃𝐮𝐦𝐛 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐞!

𝐁𝐒𝐃 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Crack

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Them being done with your bullshit<3

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Mentions of suicide, you're stupid, Dazai is stupid, you're making Chuuya shit his pants with worry, Tecchou being the best bf in the world, stupid suggestive jokes maybe, mentions of coochie (don't question it)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Chuuya, Dazai, Tecchou, Nikolai

A/N: Dropped this account as hard as the last time Rihanna dropped an album😍

ℂℍ𝕌𝕌𝕐𝔸 ℕ𝔸𝕂𝔸ℍ𝔸ℝ𝔸

MOTHERFUCKER

STOP TRYING TO KILL YOURSELF

Shit is NOT funny

At one point he considers buying a leash for you (not in that kind of way...) so he could tug on it when you decide to wander off

Or buy those backpacks with a long...fabric stretchy dingaling thing so he can just yank you around

He just wants to look at clothes and the next second someone is screaming bloody murder and BOOM

You're in the middle of the road😨

"OH MY GOD BABE WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING???"

He is so sick and tired of you; you remind him of Dazai and it makes him want to put his brain in a blender.

Idk how a car approaching you in 250mph doesn't ring an alarm in your head but go off babes❗❗❗

With everything being minimalistic these days, I do too wish to give the world some colour with my blood

Blood donation bout to go wild

No seriously stop doing it or he's going to start demanding the police to put you on house arrest

But you somehow still figure out a way to put yourself at risk

He literally childproofs the entire house, and YET

You still find ways to put yourself in danger

"My god can you S T O P."

Shit is even more worse when you try to protect him when on a mission

Always briefs you before the mission that if anything happens, it happens. Don't try to play hero. Because you're not going to die a hero, you're going to die as an idiot.

And you're going to put his name into shame.

So don't.

He hopes if you die you at least die in a good memorable way and not with big red large fonts in bold in newspapers with the words "Person dies after getting struck in the anal by lightning, with lingering scent of mustard gas."

He wants coochie and cream not coochie and beam😕

"I won't die babe, trust me, if I got in a fight with a bear I'm winning for sure" keep telling yourself that, I support the gaslighting

"You're gonna be devoured."

"AS I SHOULD."

"THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT."

He loves you; he really does.

But you make him want to live in a retirement home sometimes💔

Your safety percentage with him is 7/10

𝔻𝔸ℤ𝔸𝕀 𝕆𝕊𝔸𝕄𝕌

Oh wow look it's the sanest couple ever

Neighbours called, they demanded to get you both sent to the ward!! NOT Harvard.

An angel must have descended to bless him with such a loving partner<3

Dates on the rooftop, but instead of stargazing, you both wish a meteor comes to blast you❤️

Meteor shower together in a different context🤭 getting showered in meteors, big, gigantic balls on your face LMAO

That's what Dazai wishes

But you're on the edge of the roof staring down in awe

"What cha doing? Tryna kill yourself without me, sweetie?😍"

The difference is Dazai knows the consequences, but he doesn't care

You don't know the consequences- or maybe you do but you just dgaf, and you're just stupid (it's okay he still loves you)

He finds it funny while everyone else in the agency is on the verge of putting you on agency arrest🫡

Tbh he is the main reason why you keep continuing this habit of yours because he does not make any attempts to stop you

In fact he encourages you to do it more😧

"Should I stick my hand in the blender while it's on?"

"YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES"

Okay but he does stop you when your life is at risk

"I would take a bullet for you," you say

"Oh darling there's no need for tha-"

Oopsie now there's two graves underneath the large tree

Oda gonna be your partner in graves😍❗

Jokes aside he will actually get a heart attack if you do that

"I love you and all, my Mattress base, 150x200 cm, but please don't do that"

If anything big arises, you are staying PUT.

You're staying with Yosano so if you actually do anything stupid while they are trying to save everyone's asses, mommy Yosano can come and heal you

But I think you two will be having fun since you really don't see the problem with her amputating your leg and ripping your heart out so...

If you like Yosano and is a masochist, big win!

Dazai is quite relaxed with you, as long as you don't fight a mimic and decide to make your death an entire philosophy class

Your safety? With this guy? 2/10

ℕ𝕀𝕂𝕆𝕃𝔸𝕀 𝔾𝕆𝔾𝕆𝕃

"Woah, that's a new magic trick!" BFFR.

Can't tell who's worse tbh, him or Dazai

He really does not give a shit, not in a "idc if you die" but in a "wait omg that's actually so fun, do it I wanna see what will happen" kind of way

He finds it extremely amusing 😐

If you ever try to protect him in a fight

Lord

LORD

"My little pookie meat shield🥰 Wanna see which meat is stronger?😍 MY ME-"

None of you are even protecting each other LMAO you're just making matters worse (or fun to him) because for the love of god you cannot dodge a gazillion bullets sweetie, you're not Chuuya

But you're not Dazai either so he just throws you into his portal and disappears, and also using his hands to cover your forehead so you don't get shot specifically there😇

Whenever trouble arises he just picks you up like a sack of rice and teleports away

He's silly and goofy but be grateful he at least cares for you enough to not let you die

When you guys are on a cruise ship for one of Fyodor's plans he sabotages the ship so it sinks and then decides to play titanic with you while you're like 5 minutes away from drowning

"It's gonna be romantic trust me"

Yeah with like 900 people screaming in the background with explosions

Definitely played Russian Roulette with you at one point...

"You do know there's a bullet in the gun, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"😇 No objections?"

"Why would I have one...?"

Chances of Nikolai killing you is a 50/50

But the chances of you killing yourself first because of your stupidity is a 100

"If I can't have you, no one can" was his mentality but after finally dating you he realizes it's "If you somehow survive, only I can have you- because everyone is already fucking dead because of you"

He is totally fine with you risking your life, and he's happy to tag along too!

If you were expecting comfort, sorry but there's none to comfort🙂

3/10, one extra point because he protects your head

"Babe wanna see my new trick? It's called disappearing forever!"

𝕋𝕖𝕔𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕦 𝕊𝕦𝕖𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕠

MEEEEEEEEOWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

He's...really dense

You're standing on a bridge and leaning so close to the edge and he still isn't alarmed

Has a hand tugged on your shirt in case you do get too close🥰

He doesn't react much because his thoughts are just "It's okay if they do fall I can catch them" and it's honestly adorable

BUT I THINK YOUR CONFIDENCE IS A BIT TOO HIGH

What am I saying he legit managed to get his ass on a helicopter that was high up in the sky with his mf SABER.

He does not want you to protect him though☹️

Not because he thinks you're weak or anything but because he doesn't want you to get hurt💔 he wants you to depend on him and to let him take the fall :(

"It's okay, I'll be fine." BABY NOOO

Honestly all us Tecchou lovers would react the same

I WILL BE PROTECTING HIM WITH MY LIFE

Both of you need someone to monitor each of you too tho...cuz he keeps risking his lives for others too without knowing the consequences😕

It's a constant back and forth of "no, you"

"Tecchou, let me help you-"

"It's okay, you just stay put and let me do the work instead"

Both of you stfu you have a broken arm now SIT THE FUCK DOWN.

No one is surprised when the both of you get sent to the ER

He's quite impressed with you

You pull so many stupid stunts- swinging on chandeliers, jumping from roofs to roofs, climbing a mountain without any proper gear or protection- YOU'RE SO COOL (In Tecchou's eyes, that is. To others, you're a wild rabid monkey.)

You could be jumping off a skyscraper and Tecchou would have full confidence that he could catch you

And surprisingly, he does.

Nothing stops him.

Jouno hates having meetings with the two of you because your stupidity drives him crazy

"I sound crazy because I am, you sound stupid because you ARE."

He supports all of your stunts, because he is not worried at ALL

"So the plan is- I'm going to jump on this guy who is armed with a grenade and like 2 pistols, and I have nothing, I'm going to scratch him with my nails and then bunny kick him."

"Okay. Tell me when to start fighting."

But in the circumstances where you are in big big trouble, he goes bat shit crazy

Okay well, not screaming and raging- but like "Where is my s/o :("

The airport scene where he couldn't find Jouno? Yeah. That. But with you.

"I love you" they say, but Tecchou said "For 5 minutes, I'll put Jouno above justice."

HUSBAND

MATERIAL

"Where is my s/o :( s/o?" YOU BETTER GET BACK TO HIM RIGHT NOW OR HE STARTS SULKING

He always has a hand on the hem of your shirt so you can't wander off

If you still somehow manage to go missing

He buys those matching shirts like "If missing, find xxx" and "I'm xxx"

Yeah ownership and possessiveness kink in a cute wholesome way ig

For safety (in the sense that you actually come out alive and not brutally injured), he gets a 8/10. But because he gives you freewill to do as you please, it's a 1/10.

How are you both even alive what kind of plot armor do you have

A/N: Did you guys miss me

[coco-goat-milk]

MAPPA catering to my side character loving ass