#I tried to make it the most ship free possible but if you want you can see it as the potential mate being anyone you prefer

[noellefan101]

Silent Living

Characters: Noelle, Kinich, Lynette, Beidou, Diluc x mute GN!reader

Summary: You're mute, and cant talk? not a problem for your partner, they can find other ways to communicate, and honestly wouldn't have it any other way.

Warnings: mute reader, most of them dont know sign language but there are people where i think they would either have learned it already or will learn it for you, gn reader as always

Note: hehe its kinda hard to write for Noelle tbh, i just can't see her romantically if that makes sense, its like a platonic obsession i have for her. but i chose to write for some girlies bc i felt like it, luv you :P

Noelle

She's a sweetheart and i fully believe she would try to learn sign language the day you meet for the first time. but for the sake of the cute gestures lets pretend she barely knows any words in it, or that you arent the best yourself despite probably needing it heh.

(she would teach you some if so, or learn with you)

In a classic Noelle fashion, she does literally anything for you, though people would normally just have to speak her name, you can't. so she always keeps an extra eye on you to ensure she's there when you need her help. that may be a given, but its truly what shes best at doing.

Loves writing little notes for you, whether its just so you can remember something or if its to invite you anywhere, she loves it. and she has definitely not been carrying pen and paper with her for weeks so you could write notes for each other, no no.

I dont imagine her being the best with words, but is always very good at comforting. so if you need some reassurance or just comfort you can come to her. and you can let her know to be silent by putting a finger over her mouth if you like the silence more. she wont be offended don't worry.

Kinich

Not very good with words and likes silence when possible, so it's very common for you to sit in silence doing an activity together. he's best with actions at least, both giving and receiving, so just doing a tiny chore for him would mean more than words could.

Though it may be difficult to do anything for each other since he's quite busy, and so could you be. but he always has time to sit with you for at least 30 minutes a day and just spend quality time together.

if you ever need anything from him, he has a notebook on him at all times that you're free to write in. Although Ajaw has made a fuss about it being annoying to wait for you, but he'll shut up if Kinich locks him up.

Lynette

She loves the silence you bring. being around her brother all the time can get annoying, no matter how much she loves him, so a quiet tea time with you is often just what she needs. she knows you can feel out of place or left out even since you cant communicate as easily with her siblings. but she is always ready to talk for you.

No matter how much she hates public speaking, and how often she gets her brother to speak for her, she'll speak for you. if there's anything you'd like to say, just write it down and show it to her. she might even know what you wanted to say, by how you stand and how your muscles move. so she will sometimes speak for you before you even get to start writing it down.

She has made sure you're a part of the conversation, not just there and looking around. she might have some knowledge about sign language, but she knows many do not and makes sure everyone understands you.

(she might even ask father if they can get classes in sign language, or at least the siblings of hers that you interact with most often)

Beidou

Maybe not the best at silent communication, but she tries her very best. if she doesnt know sign language she'll learn it, mostly because she feels it would make you more comfortable, but its also something that she may find interesting.

She is very good at dealing with different kinds of people though, so expect yourself to feel right at home wherever you are on her ship. she might even have started teaching her crew how to talk with you properly, whether thats getting you something write down on or learning them a bit of sign language that im not sure of.

Unfortunately it all goes in weird directions when she's drunk, while she talks for you it might be hard to get her to pay attention enough or even speak your thoughts properly. Kazuha is your savior in this case.

Diluc

He has made sure every single maid and anyone he hires learn to speak through their hands. he might even have prepared for it before you started dating, and even some of his staff you have never met before just knows how to speak with you.

Its a given that you're going to be well treated at the dawn winery, but Diluc makes sure you feel the most at home you'll ever experience. you have at least 1 maid whos ready to tend to you in a seconds notice, whether its jsut that you need something to write on or you need to know where you lover is.

Will literally drop anything for you with just a finger on his shoulder. whatever you need, he'll do it. need a hug? no need to even gesture it he knows, someone doesnt understand you at all? he's ready to talk in your place for hours on end.

I might have written it weirdly again sry, im not mute and i just like writing, Luv Ya- Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 29

Din Djarin + Excessive Cum

Hey yall, super late to finish kinktober, hows everyone doing? Changing my major has been a lot more work than I imagined besides usual classwork, so its only now ive had any free time to write. But I still want to finish kinktober, even if its late.

On the shorter side, since I just wanted to finish kinktober.

Kinktober 2024 masterlist

Din Djarin let out a shaky whine, soft and quiet enough that the vocoder of his helmet almost didn’t pick it up. He was never one to make much noise, even when you guys had been apart for long when bounties were drawn out, or when you were busy in return.

The only way you could truly tell it had been too long, was the way Din couldn’t control his hips, and how they jolted and twitched into your hands or mouth. Hed jump and jolt like a rabbit, giving short and fast thrusts of his hips as if he couldn’t control himself or his reactions.

He was always so full after you two had been apart. Din never saw a reason to get off on his own. There hadn’t been much need for it before you two got together, when all that mattered to him was bringing credits back to the clan. And after you two became an item, Din only felt it made sense to allow you to be the one to bring him that pleasure.

Hed never known what he was missing as your hands twisted and pulled at his weeping sensitive cock for the first time, his balls so full you almost cooed at him in pity. It must have been so uncomfortable to be so backed up, to be so incredibly full and heavy, ready to blow from the smallest of touches.

The lack of skin on skin contact Din experienced only added onto it, making him even more sensitive as he oozed and dripped in your hands. It seemed as if his body was trying to catch up to the many years of neglect he had given it, now that it knew you were there to empty his balls when they got too full.

It left Din desperate and panting whenever you got your hands on his dick, after you would remove as little armor as possible to get to his crotch or ass. Sometimes he felt like an animal, his jaw hanging open as his eyes glazed over under his helmet. The Mandalorian felt as if you knew the exact expression on his face, even if you couldn’t see it, making him pulse even more.

You were always shocked at just how much Din could cum, no matter how many times you tried to empty him out or milk him like some kind of cattle. It only ever resulted in Dins noises getting so loud that his vocoder crackled at the volume and pitch, his legs shaking as he tried his damnest to fuck into your grip, no matter how sensitive he was.

There was so much to catch, so much to swallow, there had even been a few times where the sudden gush of spend had made some of it shoot out your nose, only making Din moan even louder when he saw it.

it shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that someone who never got down and dirty with another being, had a lot of fantasies, and luckily for Din, you were willing to try out most of them, even if that meant allowing Din to stand or kneel above you and spill his seed all over you until he was drained dry.

It was attractive, sure, but also made a real mess. Lucky for the both of you the ship you spent most of your time on had the ability to air out, or else the entire thing would reek of your intimacy. And the closet full of cleaning supplies was restocked regularly. In the end you just liked making Din feel good, and you couldn’t blame him for shooting like a firehose. At least it was hot.

[ultraimaginez]

Coping Skills

Sometimes the only cure for big feelings is a big dic-

Ship: Solomon (om!) x GN! Reader

CW⚠️: 18+ MDNI! hair pulling, praise, m!receiving oral, Solomon (he deserves to have his own warning)

Word Count: 1.4k

"Bad day, huh?"

The book that was in Solomon's hands moments ago is now somewhere across the room - thrown without so much as a second thought to where it might land amongst the chaos of his study. He looks up at you, bemused. "You know, there are a lot of cursed objects in here. If you're not more careful, you might hit something dangerous."

The only dangerous thing that you're concerned about in this moment is your temper. To your credit, you have been working on controlling it. You've actually made quite a lot of progress since you found yourself in the Devildom for the first time years ago; but there are still days you cannot fight the acidic lump of emotions that sits heavy in the back of your throat. Today, you feel like a time bomb ready to explode.

Luckily, Solomon is pretty good at grounding you in his own special way.

Now that his hands are free, you are able to straddle him. You tuck your knees on either side of his hips in the large armchair where he spends most of his evenings studying. Your eyes lock onto his stormy gray ones. After a few years of knowing one another, and now several months of living together in Cocytus Hall, the two of you have gotten good at communicating non-verbally. But that's never stopped Solomon from running his damn mouth.

"Want to talk about it?" He asks, signature smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as his hands immediately find your ass and squeeze. He knows that you will share when you're ready, but he also knows that talking is the last thing you want when you feel like this.

Wordlessly, you claim his mouth in a searing kiss that's fueled with an anxious, desperate energy you want out of your body as soon as possible. Your hands are in his silvery hair, trying to pull him closer. The kisses are too much teeth, too much nipping, but you can't stop the urge to try and crawl under his skin to escape your own. No matter how close you get, it doesn't feel like enough. Solomon's little close lipped smile is only making you more frustrated.

Long fingers tangle at the base of your scalp sharply tug at your hair. You let out a noise that you might find embarrassing under any other circumstance, but the dull pain grounds you back in the moment. There is a sense of relief in his firmness. The two of you pant hard trying to catch your breath. Your lips are so close, you know he can feel every heave you make for air. You wait a beat before moving to grab at Solomon again, but his hand tugs at your hair a second time and keeps you still.

Solomon's pale skin flushes a pretty shade of pink and his Adam apple bob against his skin in a way that makes you want to put your feverish lips along his neck. His tongue darts out to taste his lips without ever looking away from you once. He's clearly thinking - studying you closely as he gently moves your head side to side. His free hand comes up to wipe away the frustrated tears that have started to form at the corner of your eyes. He gently tuts and shakes his head. "My poor apprentice. I should be taking better care of you, hm?"

The strange thing about Solomon is that although he tries to sound sarcastic - voice overly saccharine in its mocking lilt- you can tell that he means it. He does feel responsible for taking care of you. It's his job. And say what you will about Solomon, but be takes his responsibility to you seriously.

Effortlessly, Solomon lifts you off his body and eases you to the floor between his knees. You speak for the first time all evening, unable to stop the urge to be bratty. "For an old man, you're pretty strong." He laughs and shifts so that he can spread his legs wider, accommodating your new position. "Always so mouthy, MC" He cups your jaw and runs a thumb along your bottom lip, smiling when you kiss his finger gently. "I can think of a better use for these pretty lips."

A thrill runs down your spine as Solomon reaches down to unbuckle his belt. The two of you maintain heated eye contact as he pulls down his dark jeans and sets his aching cock free. Your gaze is pulled lower, now mesmerized by the way his hard length is leaking against his lower abs, flushed an even darker shade than his cheeks and looking beautiful in the low light of the study. You can feel Solomon's eyes on you like a hawk as you move forward to wrap one fist around his base. He throws his head back and lets out a pleased hiss. "Mmm that's good. Show me how talented you are, sweet." His fingers find their way back into your hair, this time gentle when they twine between the strands.

Solomon has given you exactly what you need: an objective. The emotions of the day fade to a dull hum at the back of your mind as a new focus takes their place. To take apart "the witty sorcerer" with your mouth and hands until he cannot think straight.

Looking up at Solomon with big innocent eyes you place a sweet kiss to the head of his cock and bat your lashes. "Like this?" His fingers tighten at your scalp and you let out a pleased gasp at the tug. "Tsk, Tsk. Don't be a tease, MC." He chides before loosening his grip a bit so that you can move again. You smile up at him before wrapping your mouth around him properly. You tongue at his slit before teasing the sensitive spot on the underside of his dick you've learned makes him see stars as you gently bob your head. His eyes screw up immediately as he let's out a groan that goes straight to your ego.

Solomon has been with plenty of partners over the centuries. (With the exception of Asmo, he may have the highest body count of the millennium.) But he can't remember a single one of their names or faces anymore. Not when you're the only person who has ever made him feel this good. He briefly wonders if you can feel it to - the way your magic touches his when you have him this vulnerable and raw. It's never intentional but it happens every time you have your mouth on him and it feels like an electrical storm in his bones.

"So beautiful. So perfect. Can't believe I waited three hundred years for you. It's worth it. Worth the wait. Worth everything for that sweet fucking mouth." He's babbling incoherently as you take more and more of his length - reveling in the punched out little noises he makes every time you swallow around him.

It doesn't take long before Solomon is beginning to unravel. "MC..." your name comes out of his mouth breathless, so he tries again - this time fist tightening in your hair. "MC, I'm so close. Where do you want me?" He asks, giving you an opportunity to pull away and let him cum across your face or chest. Instead you hum contentedly around him, fingers digging into his thighs as you continue to pursue your objective with single minded focus - taking as much of him as you can.

"Fuck. I really can't tell if you're a demon or an angel or a human. You're so perfect and so fucking dirty. God you're incredible." The last word comes out like it's been forced out of his lungs as he finds his release. He chases the high, trying unsuccessfully to keep his hips still as you continue to swallow around him. Your hands on his thighs manage to keep him mostly still as you do your best to take everything he gives you.

When you're finished you look up at Solomon through half lidded eyes, slowly blinking contentedly. The earlier anger and frustration having been channeled into a much more pleasurable activity, you feel significantly calmer. You expect to find the sorcerer equally blissed out but his gray irises have become small rings around blown out pupils.

Before you can react, Solomon is reversing your position - placing you on the chair and falling to his knees. The world's most irreverent devotional. He places his hands on your knees to push your legs apart and takes his place before you. "MC, I hope you're not tired already. This night is far from over."

[lvrcpid]

new person, same old mistakes.

includes: death. this indicate internal thoughts. gn!reader. angst. part 2 to let it happen. not proofread.

meeting the metkayina was possibly the most interesting factor of your life.

the stares were cruel but hey , at least someone spared you a glance.

you didn’t want to leave home. you would’ve been fine if they just left you there with your grandmother. but hey, what dad sir says goes right?

tsireya was kind. ao’nung was alright. the ocean was beautiful.

you thought making new friends in a new home would fill that void of loneliness. you were wrong.

you couldn’t even enjoy a new place without your brothers causing trouble.

you glanced over to neteyam, smirking as he licked the blood off of his lip.

son of a bitch had it coming.

what are you thinking? neteyam did nothing wrong.

your fathers loud voice shook you from your thoughts.

“you were supposed to be watching them! why did you let them fight?!”

i didn’t. i wasn’t even there. this isn’t my fault.

“i’m sorry sir. i will apologize as soon as i can”

taking the fall for your brothers. again.

the apology never came. to hell with them.

so you threw yourself back into your shell.

you gained a lot of new skills. you grew your hair out. you got taller. all new things. you were a new person.

you then found yourself on a ship, covering for your siblings, as usual, when suddenly,

you were hit.

the bullet was meant for neteyam.

it should’ve been him.

then maybe i would’ve had a chance.

you sat slumped against a door.

the cold metal freezing against your hot skin.

your siblings were already on their ilu riding back to shore.

forgetting you.

they had just assumed you were behind them.

but not one person turned around to see and check.

blood was filling your mouth at a rapid pace.

the metallic smell made your nose sting.

you stared down at your chest and removed your hands that tried to apply pressure.

there was no point anymore.

you couldn’t help but feel relief. you’re finally out of the picture.

the family doesn’t have to worry about you anymore. your final mistake. the one you’ve been making your entire life; covering for your siblings.

you died with a smile on your face. finally free from the retched horrors of your life.

sad thing is

it was days before anyone noticed you were gone.

it was too late. your body was already one with the ocean.

although you were a new person, you still found yourself making the same old mistakes.

next.

[moodymisty]

𝕴 𝖉𝖔𝖓’𝖙 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐, 𝖆𝖘 𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖘 𝖎𝖙’𝖘 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖒𝖊

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Part 1, part 2

Author’s note: Decided to have a more fleshed out version of the Cato bullying arc. This is the timeline where Titus and reader are just friendly, and it's all Sicarius/Reader. If you want a Titus/Reader/Sicarius sandwich fic, feel free to say! I'd be happy to make another fic because I have a bunch more ideas that would work for a love triangle version of this plotline. I just really wanted to do this one first, since it's kind of the original idea.

Summary: Cato Sicarius continues to fume over Primarch Guilliman's diplomat, unable to hide his disdain; But neither you or himself are wise to how he truly feels.

Relationships: Cato Sicarius/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Degradation, Sexism/misogyny, Choking, Size difference, Toxic relationship

Word count: 798 (short but don't worry chapter 2 is a doozy this is just plot)

Your steps towards Guilliman’s personal holotable are hesitant, hands knitted at your front. Your skin is mostly covered by the delicate fabric of your dress, but you still struggle to not shiver. The air of the ship is always so cold.

“You called, Lord Guilliman?”

He looks up from the sickly green glow of the table, of which makes the tired, wrinkled expression on his face more exaggerated - and raises his brows.

“Yes, I did. I have a task for you.”

It’s still daunting to speak to him, especially so casually. It is also just as daunting to have him speak so casually to you back as well, as if he doesn't even realize the magnitude of who he is.

Primarchs are- they’re demigods. Gods, to some.

But Guilliman has shown himself to be remarkably human, and you’ve tried to respect his demands be treated as such. It seems most of the time those requests have fallen on deaf ears, as he has begrudgingly remarked about the frequent prayers and prostration of Imperial priests whenever they are in his presence.

You never thought about how a god might find the dedication of his worshipers exasperating, but either way you nod and look at him expectantly.

“I need you to speak to some of the planetary officials here about using their world as a logistics hub.” You don’t need much more information to know the gist of what Guilliman is asking.

He needs worlds- an ever increasing amount of them - to produce and send materials around Ultramar and the broader Imperium. They would need to give up significant independence for that. Permanently. The likelihood of this war ending in any of your lifetimes is a wish upon dead stars.

“I am assuming this isn’t a question you’ll want a no on,” You say partly joking with a hint of a smile at the corners of your mouth. Guilliman nods.

“Convince them this is a good idea so we do not have to apply force. I would like to save the bolter ammunition, if possible.”

You’re used to this type of work, and so you nod with sufficient understanding. Guilliman shifts in his armor, briefly looking down at a blinking dot on his holotable for a moment. One of many; You wonder how he is able to absorb and remember such an overwhelming amount of information as he looks up to speak to you again.

“I will send some of Second Company with you to-“ Guilliman notices you expression sour, and you catch it too late for him to have not noticed.

“...Is there something wrong with that?”

Your hands unknit from your front to try and wave away the disrespect you thought you just showed him, pursing your lips. You were once warm, but not your face feels overwhelmingly hot.

“I’m so sorry lord Guilliman, that was immature of-“

“It’s Sicarius, isn’t it.”

You stop speaking and look away, licking your lips. Guilliman sighs and rakes a gauntlet over his dusty blonde hair, before returning them to rest on the edge of the holotable. You can hear the metal of either the table or his armor creak and groan under his strength.

“I have confronted him on his attitude once before, has he still not stopped with this nonsense?” You swallow a knot in your throat.

Sicarius looked to you with a sneer on his lips, as he faced you. His olive skin shines with a red glow from the hazard lights around the ship's cargohold.

‘I struggle to think of a reason why we need you here.’ You- perhaps naively - spoke up in response.

‘Agriworlds are important logistically and diplomatically, and they’re prime targets for e-‘ Sicarius looked at you like you were nothing more than mud on the sole of his boots.

‘Did I ask for you to speak?’

You pursed your lips, and soaked in the frigid silence of the refiltered air. All the other marines stayed out of it; They have no stake in this and want not to get involved, or know they can’t without punishment from their captain.

Sicarius sighs and shifts in his armor, looking away from you with a petulant expression.

‘It really is true that women do nothing but talk.’

Mouth pursed tightly shut, you looked away from Sicarius to Titus and an astartes beside him; They looked back with stoic, but sympathetic expressions. They can't say anything, but at least you know you aren't alone in this.

Letting out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, the feeling offers a bit of relief; But it does little to temper the frustration you feel overall.

"No, it hasn't stopped. If anything, it seems to have only gotten worse since you spoke to him."

The primarch moves and leans away from the holotable, and you reemerge fully from your memory and speak up. Perhaps you shouldn't speak out of turn to him, but he hasn't punished you for doing so yet in your conversations with him.

“Can you not have Titus lead the retinue?” Guilliman furrows his brow and sighs. Sicarius' unfounded hatred towards you is proving to make something that should be quite simple overwhelmingly difficult; And frustrating.

“I wish to abide by the proper chain of command, but he’s experienced despite his demotion.” He places a hand on his hip. You hope that your hesitation comes across as less whiny as you think it does, but given that Guilliman broached the topic first, you assume that he is in agreement with you that Sicarius' has been, in Guilliman's words of which had made you nearly choke hearing come from the mouth of the Lord Regent:

A colossal pain in the ass.

You take a step forward, crossing your arms shrugging your shoulders at him.

“I don't need the man to like me. But his attitude is so unbearable that I struggle to think of a way where we could co-exist without him despising every moment of it."

Guilliman sighs, and you feel bad for bringing yet another problem to his plate, when he already seems so overwhelmed with it all. You are too in extension; Since Guilliman recruited you as his diplomat he has been desperate to delegate you tasks to give him breathing room. Even if they aren't entirely diplomatic in nature, he seems quite appreciative when you handle things for him.

Getting the Imperial priests to stop praying in his presence had been one of the more amusing non-diplomatic tasks he had delegated you.

"I will have Lieutenant Titus informed so he understands the situation." You try not to smile.

"Thank you for being so understanding about this. Titus is already quite aware of this situation as well." Guilliman raises his eyebrows. "As much as Captain Sicarius seems to expend significant effort in hating me personally, Titus has not been spared his wrath as well. It's why I mentioned him; I, would consider us friends."

Guilliman wears a soft smile; One while gentle, seems quite tired. That would explain why you don't use any sort of title for him, unlike Captain Sicarius.

"I am glad at least one of my men is at least somewhat well adjusted," He continues. "I have been in great shortage since waking in this new Imperium." You wonder what he means by that, as he seems to have a deeper implication than you can understand, judging by the look in his eyes.

Either way, you don't have much time to think about it as he sends you off.

"Your ship is nearly ready to depart, make your way there and I will update your retinue with the changes. Good luck."

[sunlit-skycat]

Pale by Wildbow shill post

“The practice, as we call it, is best summed up as an ongoing contract. By pledging to make your word inviolable, forces in this world will start listening. Routine, ritual, and expectation have formed the grooves and determined how best to communicate with those forces. Diagrams, symbols, knowing who and what to appeal to. Many, many things become possible. If your word is inviolable.” [...]

“Something terrible happened, of a scale that words cannot easily convey. We need you to look into it,” Matthew said. “No need to solve it. Simply… look into it.”

Overview

Pale is an urban fantasy web serial about three girls Awakened into a world of magic in order to solve the murder of a Judge, a supreme being that oversees magic in an area. Soon, however, they discover that the very roots of magic are built off of systemic injustice, and that outside forces want to destroy the meager sanctuary that they have been charged to protect.

Why you should read it

Pale has a huge meta-system that tries to provide an explanation for how all fairy tale type of magic works. When one Awakens, they give up their ability to lie, but that doesn't stop Practitioners from trying to mislead everyone around them. Nothing comes for free. The easiest way to deal with the costs of Practice is to pass them off to someone else, which over the years has led old Practitioner families to exploit magical creatures and each other to do their bidding.

In a way, Pale really reminds me of the Harry Potter fandom, particularly the newer fics that try to examine all the unexamined issues that Rowling put into the worldbuilding and never explored. It tackles subjects of imperialism, child abuse, community building, and justice. There's a lot of fun things to discuss about it, including whether the protagonists ultimately got it right at the end.

Many of the characters in Pale are marginalized in some way. Of the main characters, Lucy is the only black girl in a rural Canadian town and sick of it, Avery is a lesbian and doesn't know how to come out to her dubiously tolerant family, and Verona's single father is an abusive emotional black hole that wants to drag her down with him. Overall, there are a lot of well-realized female characters who are allowed to let their sharp edges cut others in the story.

The fandom

Pale had an earlier prequel work set in the same universe called Pact, which features different characters and settings but has roughly the same magic system. Because of that, it's most useful to think of the fandom as an being composed of an umbrella group, called Otherverse or P-verse by different places, and then subcategories of Pale, Pact, and OC focused works.

The main cast runs young, so shipping isn't big in the fandom, but if you like f/f potential Pale is pretty decent for it. The OC fic tends to have a lot of queer main characters as well.

On Dreamwidth, I run sister communities at blueheronteanook for canon character based fic and meta, and hillsgladehouselibrary for OC fics. There also is a discord server for these communities, the Blue Heron Tea Nook.

You can read Pale fic on Ao3 here.

Where to read it

Pale can be read online here: palewebserial.wordpress.com/

There also is a fanmade audiobook that goes up to arc 10, about 1/3 of the story. It's on Spotify and Podchaser.

[spacedustmantis]

list of shipnames in jrwi and who they are referring to

this is (and probably forever will be) a work in progress. i plan on expanding this list with any and all shipnames i come across, so if you want to see the up-to-date list, make sure to open the original post. also feel free to send me shipnames that are missing from this list to my inbox or over dms.

note: not all of these are extremely common or in circulation quite yet, but you might encounter them every now and then anyways.

note x2: for some of these ships there are multiple names in use, i tried to sort them by how common they are (most common to least common)

‼️ important disclaimer! this is an archival work, meant to list as many ship names as possible for a variety of uses. this means this list does include ships that might be triggering for some. regardless of my feelings about it, abusive, unrealistic, or violent ships as well as underage and incest are pretty much always a facet of fandom, and as such they are represented here, partially to give people the necessary information to be able to circumvent being confronted with said content (e.g. via muting tags) should they want/need to. ‼️

riptide:

pc/pc

fish and chips (fnc): chip/gillion

navyseal: jay/gillion

mockingjay/phoenix: chip/jay

poly pirates: chip/jay/gillon

pc/npc

catnip: chip/la alma

sailorsong/scarlet captains: chip/jazz

fools gold/bargaining chip: chip/niklaus

drunken sailors: chip/caspian

chiptune/chipped crown: chip/queen

stoneflame: chip/igneous

midnight memories: chip/drey

homeowners association: chip/ensa

tboy polycule: chip/jazz/igneous

birdbolt/clockwork rivals/women in STEM: jay/ensa

pistolwhip: jay/lizzie

sharpshooter: jay/kira

bloodshot: jay/anastasia

sheshells: jay/edyn

artemisanchor: jay/aslana

songbird: jay/queen

bloodbath: jay/anastasia/aslana

hook, line and sinker: jay/edyn/lizzie

jay's harem/let's go lesbians: jay/her many girlfriends (ever changing, always evolving)

swordfish: gillion/caspian

dealbreaker: gillion/niklaus

sea shanty: gillion/queen

goldfish/dragonfish: gillion/clorten

sunken anchor: gillion/marshal john

catfish: gillion/kuba kenta

destined sails: gillion/caspian/marshal john

fish and chips and more fish: chip/gillion/caspian

manlet, manwhore, manslayer: chip/gillion/niklaus

sea sharp: chip/gillion/queen

deal with the devil (dwtd): chip/jay/gillion/niklaus

bardic inspiration: chip/jay/gillion/queen

full ensemble: chip/jay/gillion/queen/jazz

npc/npc

drearl: drey/earl

watergun: drey/finn

old man yaoi/drearlinn: drey/finn/earl

cattlepunk: drey/ichabod

roseshot: drey/captain rose

dreyson: drey/jayson

metal detector/gunmetal/robopanda: alphonze/gryffon

popshot: gryffon/queen

precious metals: gryffon/igneous

seawitch: niklaus/edyn

frigatebird/warbird/waning crescent: lizzie/ava

fighting chance/boxer briefs: la alma/clorten

naval orange: marshal john/amanda rinn

message in a bottle: marshal john/edyn

field medic: marshal john/rudith

rose tides: lizzie/edyn

rosewater: lizzie/caspian

lunar eclipse/sea serpents: ava/lizzie/edyn

smoothjazz/singing the blues: jazz/caspian

jam session: jazz/queen

saltwater pearl: caspian/edyn

soundwaves/sea shanty: caspian/queen

frost flowers: caspian/rudith

pearlescent: edyn/aslana

hammer to fall/songsmith: queen/alasse

lamprey: anastasia/aslana

starcrossed survivors/starstruck: zamia/star

apotheosis:

pc/pc

angelstone/stonesong: peter/rumi

deicide: rumi/thanatos

tech support: peter/thanatos

eldritchstrings: rumi/exandroth

pc/npc

divineshifter/shape4shifter: rumi/rhymir

prime defenders:

pc/pc

ghostknife: william/vyncent

ghostkicks/blue raspberry: william/dakota

cardiac arrest: william/dakota/ashe

dancebattle/spacejam: vyncent/dakota

revenant/wispy winters/evildead/haunted house: william/ashe

tomeblade/gamecube/demondagger: vyncent/ashe

demonkicks: dakota/ashe

polypd: william/vyncent/dakota/ashe

pc/npc

decharge/soulfire: william/doug

sunghost/sunshade: william/summer

parasol: william/vyncent/summer

spare the dying/exquisite corpses: william/cantrip

ghostlysigns: william/jimmy

npc/npc

tidalwave: tide/mark winters

suntrip: summer/cantrip

doodlejump/pencilfrog: le frog/pencilman

cops and froggers: le frog/officer frank

zebrafish: tide/harlem

car manual: wordsmith/pretender

shooting star: mrs g/lightspeed

shadowfold: harlem/jason

blood in the bayou:

pc/pc

keeperschampion: rand/rolan

rollingstones: kian/rolan

smokeshow: kian/rand

nightmare blunt rotation (nbr): kian/rand/rolan

pc/npc

heartstrings: kian/becky

meddling kids: kian/rand/rolan/becky

bleacher ghosts: kian/becky/jesse

milf season: kian/donna

private performance: kian/donna/john

the suckening:

pc/pc

guarddog: emizel/shilo

alleycat: emizel/arthur

royal pain: shilo/arthur

boynabbing: emizel/shilo/arthur

pc/npc

fizzfangs/monster energy: emizel/soda

backalley kiss: emizel/gabriel

armored pheasant: shilo/grefgor

woodland prince: shilo/grangel

vampistol/shadowhorse: arthur/deacon

burnt stake: arthur/magnus

wisdomtooth: arthur/viv

wailing crown: emizel/shilo/vex/viv

npc/npc

weylincest: viv/vex

wailing flesh: viv/vex/the unseen one

total monster kill

n/a

wonderlust

pc/pc

featherfall: troy/blink

pc/npc

lintroller: troy/lint

old campaigns and one-shots under the cut

mythborne

supernova: connor/aster

achilles heel: connor/ryan

sunspot: aster/ryan

paperball: ryan/gary

spotlight: connor/aster/ryan

playwrat: connor/aster/ryan/romeo

final episode one shot

bluecherrylite: cherry/jebediah/aren

jebebriadic/ringbearers: jebediah/brian

twitch chat one shot

hoofin' it: icarus/gravel

convergence:

krangle: kasper/strangle

the fated:

br'aaxi: br'aad/taxi

scythebelts: sylnan/velrisa

kathnan: sylnan/katherine

sylgarth: sylnan/ugarth

velriana: velrisa/oriana

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

By fire and heart.

PT.2

Daemma Targaryen. Second daughter of King Viserys and queen Aemma, you're the living portrait of your mother with the character of a true dragon, as a second daughter you don't have right to the throne but certainly, you will protect your sister's succession by heart.

You can read Pt.1 here and Pt. 3 here

Warning ⚠️: Credits of this images goes to whoever they belong to, I found them on Pinterest. Grammatical and spelling errors, maybe this won't be good enough but In my head the story was a good one.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

After the ceremony your routine changed, your training became harder, you study until midnight, now you and your sister attend the council meeting.

«Both have to learn and listen to what those meetings are»

So here you are, listening about a lord who died, at least he died in his sleep, he didn't suffer, that's what they were commenting when Corlys Velaryon appeared.

- 4 ships burned, destroyed! The last one had the flag of my house! You sit here and talk but there's no solution about nothing!

- We already heard, and the council will consider...

- I want to know what will be your solution about my men and my ships.

- The crown will compensate you and will make an offer to compensate the families...

- I don't want compensation, I want you to do something about the crab feeder and I want to take the step stones by force!

- I will not start a war with the free cities.

(...)

Finally your father talks, but doesn't say nothing that could be interesting. You are waiting for him to say yes and have some action on the battlefield.

«You have Dragon riders, Father. Send us.»

Suddenly you feel Rhaenyra's hand squeezing softly on your forearm, you take that as a plea to support her idea.

- That would show our force, Rhaenyra is right Father...

- At least the princesses had an idea.

Corlys says clearly exasperated, but your father still looks uninterested.

- It's not that simple, girls.

- Perhaps the princesses can help us to pick a new guard, Lord commander would you take them with you?

- Good idea my Lord...

You roll your eyes, that asshole thinks he can control everything. But it's not time to complain, you and your sister simply walk away. Once you're there you decide to leave that to your sister, you have better things to do.

You were walking to your dorms when you stopped, Alicent was waiting outside your father's chambers, of course it was suspicious for you, once she was inside you approached to the door and tried to hear what was going on.

«Sometimes I would prefer to confront something else than my daughters»

Since for you it's suspicious but still those words weren't precisely something that could make you think there was something dark in the situation you decide to save it for you, your sister doesn't need more worries over her shoulders.

The king requested your presence for dinner, the most silent dinner you ever had.

- We barely talk since...

Rhaenyra breaks the silence and your father quickly talks.

- I Know... You are free to talk whenever you want, after all, you're the king.

They exchange some words and just when it seems like everything is going well, your sister talks about the council meeting, which your father quickly rejects, he never wants to talk about war or about what happens around the kingdom, he pretends everything is peaceful. So once more, everything goes back to silence.

None of you know that your father, is now, considering the possibility of a marriage, none of you expected it.

It's until the next morning you and your sister observe with surprise and annoyance the walk your father is taking with the very young Lady Laena.

- Does it make you feel angry?

Rhaenys your aunt and Laena's mother asks, apparently it's not only you who feels uncomfortable with this situation.

- Our father's the king, it's his duty to eventually get married again.

- I didn't ask that, I Asked if this annoys you.

- Laena is your daughter, doesn't it bother you?

- Of course, but I understand the order of the things. I doubt you do.

Your sister looks annoyed by all the conversation, but somehow, you understand what your aunt is trying to say, your father's marriage will bring more children, one will be a boy and the council will prefer to put him on the throne, they will not want to support your sister's right to the throne.

But your sister insists, she will break the wheel, she will change the order, but once more, your aunt's words are not more than true.

«The kingdom demands me to give them a new queen.»

«The Velaryon's offer me their daughter's hand»

Your father's words are like knives in your chest, but your uncle's words echo in your mind, someone needs to be strong to support your family. You're hidden in your father's chambers, you still believe there's something strange in those Alicent's visits. Suddenly Otto Hightower appears informing about an emergency council meeting, your father demands for you and your sister's presence.

Once there, the news of your uncle's future second wife, the stolen egg that belonged to your baby brother and him calling himself future and legitimate heir, send shivers to your spine and a strange rage grew inside your heart, you couldn't hear the rest, or the actions the council would take but you're sure of one thing, your loyalty now rest at Rhaenyra's side, whatever she decides to do you will follow.

Otto Hightower offered himself to travel to dragon stone to recover the stolen egg and bring your uncle back to the capital.

But your sister had different plans. You saw her getting ready to ride on Syrax, you're maybe not so close but you know she's planning something.

- Where do you think you're going?

- I'll go by my own to bring and confront Daemon.

- Rhaenyra, let that idiot of Hightower do his job, you can't put yourself in danger!

Rhaenyra sighs, frustrated and angry she looks at you with a determined look and simply takes your hand.

- Daemma, Otto Hightower will start a war, I can prevent it... come with me, You say I'm putting myself in danger, then come with me, you promised you would be at my side...

She's right, the hand and his hate against your uncle would start a war, there's no need for it, you made a promise, now you have to attend her call.

- Seven hells... Fine, let's go.

You nod and go to your dragon, whitefyre, a dragon as large and majestic as Syrax, white scales that shine in the sun as a diamond, a magnificent and loyal beast.

Both dragons flew side to side all the way to dragon stone, for the first time you felt close and connected to your sister, you could say you felt happy and excited until you saw the sea of soldiers and Caraxes roared, you and your sister's dragon roared too, all the people on the ground now looks at your dragons flying over their heads.

As soon as both land, Otto Hightower questions your sister, what is she doing there? Does the king know about this? He sends Ser Criston to take her to a safe place but before Criston could walk to her you give a step first, in front of her.

- If I were you I wouldn't put a finger over the princess head, Syrax is very protector with her.

Your defiant attitude pisses Otto, clearly he doesn't have the control of the situation. Your sister continues her walk to Daemon, you can see them talking, Daemon doesn't seem happy or pleased but there's something in the way he looks at Rhaenyra, it's not an evil look, maybe he's angry but not with her, he has a soft spot for her.

Both stay quiet, you're only observing, prepared to jump and protect your sister when suddenly, Daemon leaves the dragon egg and walks back to the castle. Rhaenyra looks at you and nods, both walk to your dragons and leave the place.

The trip was full of laughs and races between sisters and dragons, jokes about the faces of Otto Hightower, you clearly know how to piss the poor man.

The king was notified about you and your sister's little visit to dragon stone, as soon as he knew about your arrival, he requested your presence. Both rolled your eyes, you know what is coming, another discussion about how dangerous it was.

- Father, Did you want to see us?

- You disobeyed me, you escaped without saying anything... And you, Daemma, followed her, did you think about the consequences? Both acted against the crown's lead!

- Can we sit?

- Father, Rhaenyra made something good, something that Otto Hightower couldn't do without spilling blood!

He leaves a small laugh escape, you were right, your sister prevented the violence and blood, and then with a loving look he smiles at your sister and talks about how similar she is to your mother, a small talk about how much all of you miss the Queen. Suddenly the news you and your sister were expecting, whether you like it or not, this is something that needs to be done and the only thing you can do is support the family.

The next day, at the council meeting, all of you are expecting your father's decision.

- I've considered and decided to take a new wife.

He looks at you and Rhaenyra who kindly smiles at him, but her smile vanishes as soon as she listens to your father's next words.

- I decided to marry Lady Alicent Hightower.

You don't remember much, the anger inside you doesn't allow you to remember what happened after that, Corlys Velaryon opposed to the king's decision, meanwhile the rest was quiet, Corlys disappears and right behind him were you and your sister.

Later, weeks later you heard the news of your dear uncle joining and supporting Corlys Velaryon In the battle at the step stones against the crab feeder.

It was in the middle of a warm night before spring ended when you made the decision, you left your home, maybe the king wouldn't support and wouldn't care about this war but you certainly wanted to help, and your adventurous spirit pushed you to fly away from your father and sister.

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: Izutsumi! and Elves

Chilchuck my love, you so fucking asked for that one.

.

You woke him from his nap!!

.

Asfslkfjsk was the fact that Senshi accidentally made this guy in the show? I don't remember it.

.

I love how this fight showcases how fast Izutsumi is. Girl's got a Dex of like 22.

.

Fuckin' tragic that this is just a chapter cover and they never actually, so far as I'm aware, dress in sheepskins the way they dressed in frogskins.

.

Not to be Edgy(TM) but I'm pretty sure that by this definition, humans, especially magic-users, are also "monsters."

.

The green-growing, snow-free cavern with the barometz suddenly appearing is I'm pretty sure the most blatant the dungeon has been so far about giving people what they want - except possibly for this usually hot & humid floor being freezing in the first place, just because Laios said he didn't like the heat.

I hope it keeps doing this sort of thing after he becomes king. I know that's not how this works but god I love a sentient land, especially one that tries to accommodate its people. Alas that this one's all a honey trap for flies.

.

It's very clear to me that, while Izutsumi may genuinely prefer to avoid strenuous effort, either physical or emotional, most of her argument with Marcille in this chapter is about her testing the boundaries of the group's tolerance for her. Where she was before, they'd tell her, "You'd think you could be a little more grateful to us for taking you in." And this is a philosophy that Tade, Izutsumi's closest friend and the one other subordinate-due-to-species person among them, bought into:

Izutsumi was skeptical...but that's still what she lived with. Until now, with this new group, where she's getting mixed messages - or, what feels like mixed messages, between what the group does and says and what she thinks they're saying based on her past experience.

Chilchuck calls her a beast, then basically has her act as distracting bait for a dangerous period of time while the rest of the party (is busy being injured or tending to the injured) does nothing to help, and all Chilchuck does to help Izutsumi kill the ice golem is mark its weak point for her. But then he compliments her skills, apologizes for being rude, and gives her her own pack and bedroll, truly welcoming her to the group. And when she remarks sarcastically that nobody cares about a beast being naked, Marcille only redoubles her efforts to help her keep her modesty, while the others bind Laios's eyes because he's the one who's going to Make It Weird - not Izursumi. Laios stays blindfolded throughout the steam bath scene because the party respects Izutsumi as a person.

So then she starts that fight over food, partly because she genuinely doesn't want to eat gross things - and more importantly, doesn't want to risk becoming even more a monster than most people already view her. But also because she wants, perhaps subconsciously, to see what happens when she's "supposed" to be a "team member" now but she disobeys the more senior members of the group.

This chapter threads two needles, builds two distinctions: between "earning your place" and "pulling your fair weight", and between "doing things you don't like for others (on their orders/for their goals)" and "doing things you don't like for you (for your own goals)." I think it...could do better at it? Like, Tade is kinda failing at step 1, because it's not clear to me that she realizes needing to "be useful" in order to stay is inherently fucked up. But she DOES think of that as her personal goal, even if it's actually externally imposed, and she's okay with putting in hard, sometimes unpleasant work in order to achieve it.

.

Kabru internally, triumphantly: CAHOOOOOOOOTS!

.

{fond sigh} the Elves from the West on their white ships with avian figureheads... They may be dicks, but we do love a Tolkien reference.

.

CANARIES IN THE COAL MINE. I have NO idea if that translation is intended but my god I love it. If it's deliberate, is it a subversion of that concept or is it an indication of what the Elvish government thinks of their crack team of dungeon-delvers?

.

BIGGEST, BLUEST EYES OF PERFECT* HONESTY*...followed by the visible pupils of honest evasion. Man, I'm really enjoying the Shuro-Kabru dynamic here, too? Shuro like, "Don't bullshit me. I'm a prince. I'm willing to help, but I know a politician when I see one." They vibe, your honor. They bonded over one of the weirdest and most traumatic meals of both their lives.

.

LMAOOOO. This was NOT in the show!

.

I love how Namari greets him excitedly and immediately asks for news of Falin, and Shuro says nothing but, really, everything; and Namari changes the subject to something lighter that's still gossip about their friends. I don't really expect it to happen but I'd LOVE to see the whole old Touden party reunite in battle or just around a campfire again, because it's clear they were a very good party of dungeon-competent people who worked and got along well together.

.

Srsly though the opening view of this scene is such eloquent dynamic-establishing, vis a vis the elves relationship with the Island Lord and, well, everyone else here. We heard people muttering nervously in the streets, we heard Kabru's brief but heartfelt story of Utaya... And now we get this:

.

The words of a man who would definitely for sure not have a single problem, not a one!

.

Wait, what shady side business did Shuro have?! I love that Chilchuck is objectively the most reputable person in the party... Except really he fits in with the others: I bet a lot of parties don't want to hire That Bitchy Pushy Halffoot, any more than they want to hire an Easterner with weird vibes or the daughter of an infamous thief. (Or a mysterious elvish mage who won't explain her real reasons for wanting to explore dungeons, but Marcille would've joined the Touden party anyway, for Falin.)

It shows how Laios's trust of others pays off just as often as it doesn't.

.

THIS IS IT, THIS SORT OF IMAGINE SPOT IS WHY I LOVE KABRU VERY MUCH.

.

THE WORDS OF A MAN WHO WILL DEFINITELY FOR SURE NOT HAVE A SINGLE PROBLEM, NOT A ONE!

.

...hot.

.

kitty cat

.

I like how this sort of comment is obviously genuinely hurting Laios, and Chilchuck does kinda genuinely mean it, but also he's saying it more reflexively than anything. Laios says or does something Particularly Fucking Weird; Chilchuck comments and keeps going along with him. I do look forward to Chilchuck growing accepting of Laios's weirdness rather than just resigned, but it's a good character beat all around.

[sleepiexx]

I Still Love You

Valeria Garza x fem!Reader

Link to Pt.1

Note: I’m not even going to tell u the excuse for why this took so long, terribly sorry for that, more stuff is coming I love y’all 🫶

Summary: How can you expect to get the woman you’ve loved for such a long time out of your mind?

Warnings: small mention of blood, someone threatens someone w a knife

Word count: 1463

A familiar scene was spread across the prison floors, the deep crimson that Valeria knew all too well along with its pungent metallic smell and the unmoving bodies of prison guards. Carnage.

Valeria could be a philosopher with how often she thought poetic thoughts of carnage. It followed her around— or rather, she created it— how could it not take president in her mind? Be it guilt, or justification of her actions, or even past traumatic events she had witnessed, carnage was always there. But during her time behind bars, the time it seemed the most fitting to reflect, she found that something else took up her every waking thought.

This led her not to one of her many safe houses, as she had planned in the event of her capture and prompt escape, but to an apartment she’d only narrowly been able to discover through research she had her lawyer conduct. Fourth floor, number eleven. She repeated it over and over, until it may as well have been etched into the tough bone of her skull. Y/n’s place. All she wanted was y/n.

At night, in her cell, it wasn’t the stiff mattress, or the freezing cold air which was barely combatted by the all-too-thin blanket that kept her awake. No. It was the constant replay of y/n walking away from her that had her staring at the concrete ceiling. She could still feel her lips, as if they had only just parted despite the months they spent apart. You can never just forget the woman who ran through your mind rent free for years, especially not when she makes an exit like that after you see her for the first time since you left the army to start a cartel.

So she followed her gut, followed it all the way to the fourth floor, and all the way to number eleven.

The room was dark, but cozy, sleepiness seeped from every pore in y/n’s body as she sat nearly fused to the couch, yet despite that, she continued to raise the tv remote and click “play next episode” on the series she had been watching on Netflix. It was mindless, truly, she hated it. The show was lame with it’s bland plot lines mashed between mediocre sex scenes, but y/n would not dare consider the alternative. Sleeping ever since she had left Valeria in that shipping container was not an option. When she tried, all she was met with was a gut wrenching guilt which left her staring at the ceiling like her eyelids were stapled open.

She wondered what Valeria was up to. If she was getting any sleep in prison, y/n guessed not so she rationalized her own insomnia by saying she did not deserve sleep as long as Valeria could not. In the beginning, she almost hoped Valeria would break out. It was wrong, sure, but y/n couldn’t force herself to want the woman to rot in prison. Now, though, as the months dragged on, her hope seemed to dissipate and what had happened felt all too real. Valeria was stuck in a cell now, all because of her. The guilt ate away at her spirit like acid.

So, yeah, maybe she did really need sleep, but no she would not turn off the trashy Netflix series because it was the only thing keeping her mind off of it all. Until her attention was caught by a slight noise in the kitchen. Nothing loud, in fact it would have gone undetected to the untrained ear, but y/n was anything but. She left the tv on, so as not to alert any possible intruder to the fact that she knew they were there. Ever so carefully, she crept into the kitchen, grabbing a pocket knife she left on the coffee table after opening a package earlier in the day.

A figure stood in front of the window which led to the fire escape outside, closing it quietly. Y/n let it close all the way before shoving them into the wall, knife pressed against their neck. The lack of fight that the opposing party put up was a shock, that is until y/n got a good look into their deep brown eyes.

“Valeria?” Shocked, y/n pulled away. She dropped the knife on the dinner table, in favor of walking a few paces backwards away from the woman.

“Did you miss me?” She smirked, that same smirk y/n had seen time and time again.

Y/n scrunched her brows in disbelief, “Christ, what are you doing here? And why did you come through the window?”

“I thought you would be asleep, and isn’t it obvious why I’m here?” Valeria stretched out a hand.

Y/n shook her head and turned away, furious, attempting to walk away. Maybe she could just crawl back under her blanket on the couch and everything would all just go away. But that couldn’t happen with Valeria chasing after her, grabbing onto her shoulder and spinning her around.

“I told you this couldn’t happen again.” Y/n fumed.

“Yeah, well, we both know you didn’t mean that.”

Valeria pushed y/n up against the wall of her apartment, breaking the tension without hesitation by kissing her. Where the prior kiss had been tender and loving, this one was rough. Fast paced and dirty, with Valeria digging her teeth into y/n’s bottom lip. The girl let out a yelp from the pain, only giving Valeria further access to her mouth.

The kiss was reciprocated, as y/n threw all coherent thought and caution to the wind, grabbing onto Valeria’s shirt and pulling her closer.

All at once it was like she was taken back to years ago when all she knew was her love for the spitfire lieutenant who saved her like she were nothing more than a damsel in distress.

She stood in her own apartment and yet the walls seemed to morph into the one Valeria used to own. She felt younger, as though her sergeant patches and all of her ribbons had been ripped off in exchange for her old private ones. Years of separation and the passion had not changed.

They parted for air, y/n still clutching Valeria’s shirt. She stepped forward, closing the space between them as she wrapped her arms around Valeria and buried her face in her neck, inhaling the scent that was so uniquely hers.

“As much as I don’t want to admit it, it’s so good to see you.” Y/n whispered.

Valeria pushed away, only so that she could stare at y/n’s face, “what, didn’t think I’d come back?”

Y/n shook her head, scratching the nape of her neck awkwardly, “I didn’t know if you wanted to.”

“Do you want me here?”

The abrupt silence that followed was overwhelming. The answer was yes, god, yes y/n wanted her there, but how could she ever admit that?

She worked hard to get to where she was, trained tirelessly, and fought tooth and nail for her rank. It was not an easy feat, not from how she had started, and especially not from the major set back Valeria’s disappearance had caused her. But she persevered through it all, reigning victorious, claiming the rank she proudly wore against her chest every day; with no help from the woman who stood before her, mind you.

So how could she cave in that moment? How could she give it all up for someone who was not even there for support? Neither without great internal struggle.

“I shouldn’t.” Y/n muttered, beginning to pace around, “fuck, I really shouldn’t, everyone- everyone would be so mad at me but, damn it, I can’t help it.”

Valeria made her way closer and closer, until y/n was up against the wall again, unable to focus on anything but her. No more pacing, no more fighting with herself, just Valeria. Valeria pressed the palm of her hand to the side of y/n’s face, running her thumb over the girl’s lips, mesmerized, “no one else is here. Just you and me.”

“Just- just you ‘n me.” Y/n whispered, “you gonna leave me again?”

Valeria shook her head, “never meant to the first time.”

Y/n nodded and tilted her head so she could press a kiss to the heel of Valeria’s hand, content with her answer, allowing herself a moment of respite in her old flame’s grasp.

“‘M tired, and I bet you are too. Come to bed with me?”

Valeria agreed, following her into her bed and shortly thereafter into a deep sleep. It wasn’t much, it certainly wasn’t perfect, but they were right where they belonged: together.

[nightmarerosely]

Jayce x Viktor Fluff

Okay, I came out of retirement just for this ship. I wasn't really interested to write anything, but now that problem is solved.

Viktor sat hunched over his desk, his shoulders and neck tense after hours of relentless work. Loose strands of hair fell into his face, and he pushed them back whenever they bothered him, trying to keep himself focused. He held a pen between his teeth, while notes and blueprints lay scattered across the table in a chaotic mess. The remnants of an abandoned attempt at organisation were barely visible beneath the sea of papers. In his hands, he held a pulsating, blue-glowing device etched with runes—the Hexcore.

Frustration etched across his face, he turned the Hexcore in his hands, taking a look from every possible angle. Viktor brought it closer to his face, narrowing his eyes and taking a close look at the runes that are carved into the surface. The concentration in the room was broken by a sudden clatter—his cane, leaned against the table, had slipped and fallen to the floor. The sharp sound startled him, and he nearly dropped the Hexcore onto the ground. It tumbled onto the table, and Viktor froze as its glow intensified, pulsating with energy. Does it react to impact? Viktor wondered. Testing the theory might give him minor progress, but the risk of damaging the Hexcore was too great. Reluctantly, he set the idea aside, his mind racing with safer possibilities.

He pinched his eyes keeping them closed for a moment. Viktor knew research and progress weren't easy, but this was the most frustrating dead end he had ever reached. This thing was powerful, but he wasn't sure how to safely utilise it.

"Are you trying to make us run out of paper?" Jayce said. He pushed into the room carrying a plate and two coffee cups. Viktor barely looked up which concerned Jayce. He often saw Viktor frustrated over work, he was a perfectionist and often gave himself hard times. Just when he wanted to ask the other if he was alright, he got a reply from him. "One of us has to make progress while the other hunts for recognition." The comment was dry almost sarcastic.

Right after, a terrible cough overcame him. He tried to turn away as if he could hide it from Jayce. The other man quickly frees his hands and gives Viktor a cloth. "If you collapse because you don't rest, you won't make any progress. You should eat and take a break."

"That's what I'm afraid of—what if I collapse, and it's all for nothing?" Viktor's voice was unsteady, his eyes betraying a flicker of desperation as he instinctively clutched the Hexcore tighter.

Jayce carefully pried it from his hands, his movements direct but gentle, like handling something as fragile as Viktor's research pride. "I won't let that happen," he said firmly, his voice softening as he placed the Hexcore back in its container. "But you have to let me help you."

Viktor's lips parted as if to protest, but Jayce didn't give him the chance. He pressed the warm mug into Viktor's hands, sliding the plate closer with a quiet insistence. "You're right," Viktor mumbled after a moment, his tone heavy. "But I… it feels like the progress is mine to bear. Like it's like sand slipping through my fingers, and you—you're out there, and I'm left here alone with it."

Jayce leaned in, his gaze steady and confident. "You're not alone." His words were resolute yet laced with a tenderness that Viktor couldn't ignore. The weight of that assurance was almost too much, and Viktor's grip on the mug tightened as his gaze fell, unable to meet Jayce's earnest eyes.

Jayce leaned against the table after picking up the cane. "The council expects me to know everything about the Hexcore. They involve me so much, and I'm worried I'm letting everyone down—especially you, Viktor. I wish I was a better partner to you. At first, I loved all the attention and recognition, but now I feel lost with it." Jayce placed a hand on Viktor's shoulder without thinking about it. Viktor looked up, and in his tired eyes, there was a soft sort of affection, something he had never seen before.

"Maybe there is still reason left in you," Viktor said, taking a bite from the food Jayce had brought to him. "Was that a compliment?" Jayce asked with a bright smile on his face. Viktor's eyes slightly edge up in a smile. "Don't get used to it."

"Viktor, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately," Jayce began, his tone thoughtful. Viktor glanced up from his mug, his expression neutral but his eyes faintly curious. Jayce knew that expression, he wanted to know more, but would not ask.

"It's never too late to start," Viktor quipped, his dry wit sharp as ever.

Jayce chuckled softly, warmth flickering in his chest. This—this sharp humor, this brilliance that Viktor held so effortlessly—was part of what he admired so much about the man. But more than that, it was the things Viktor couldn't see in himself that Jayce valued most. His skill, his resilience, his quiet strength—traits Viktor dismissed too easily because of his imperfections.

Jayce would never understand how Viktor could see his flaws as something that made him undesirable when, to Jayce, they were nothing. Everyone had their imperfections, and that was okay. Why couldn't Viktor see that?

"I thought a lot about us. I know that I should have been here more. This is our project after all." Viktor turned to Jayce who was playing with his cane, letting his fingers run gently along it. For a moment they were both silent, they stole glances at each other but didn't speak. "You' are my best friend J-"Jayce didn't want to hear what Viktor had to say. They were never just friends, yet they both kept repeating it to make it the truth, to erase the electric feeling between them, the heat when they looked at each other. The way they always tried to find the other in a crowd.

Jayce placed his hand on Viktor's jaw, his thumb brushing against the edge of his cheekbone as he tilted Viktor's face upward. Their eyes met, and Jayce leaned. He could feel Viktor's breath against his lips. Viktor's breath hitched, his chest rising and falling unevenly as he tried to steady himself.

Jayce angled his head slightly, closing the distance until their lips met in a soft kiss. His fingers slid into Viktor's hair, threading through the strands as his hand cradled the back of Viktor's head. Viktor froze, his thoughts momentarily gone, unsure of how to respond. Yet, he didn't pull away. Instead, he let himself feel a warmth he hadn't expected—and didn't want to lose.

"Jayce," Viktor began, his voice quieter than usual. He couldn't bring himself to finish what he wanted to say, but he did not have to. "You don't have to say anything," Jayce murmured, his voice soft. He let his forehead rest gently against Viktor's, grounding them both. "I just… I needed you to know. You're not just my best friend, Viktor. You never have been."

Viktor exhaled shakily, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You are a fool," he said, his dry humour masking the vulnerable warmth in his tone. "But at least you are my fool."

For once, Jayce didn't need words to know what Viktor meant. And for the first time in what felt like years, Viktor didn't feel like he had to push Jayce away.

Viktor let himself stay because to be with Jayce, he was enough the way he was.

[anotherbluesunday]

✨Moodboard Teaser: In Technicolor✨

With the release of the first chapter coming in hot with its expected release being this Friday at the latest or sooner (possibly as early as tomorrow) I wanted to take the time to acquaint everyone with the primary couples in this story. Usually I cap it at two couples and have auxilary couples and characters on the fringes. But because this is a crossover between two of my favorite shows, I have expanded it to three—possibly four—couples with auxilaries (secondary) on the fringes. These couples will include original characters i.e. Wynn Galpin who is Tyler Galpin’s younger sister. There is a crossover couple that joins the Wednesday group with the Riverdale group. This couple is where I expect to receive the most backlash but idc. Their my crossover otp and I hope you all trust me enough to keep reading and join me/the characters on this journey. I have also switched some things up with one of the Riverdale characters because the ship only got screen time in the last season and it did more for their character than their actual failed relationships did the entire season. Fight me. But don’t. Or do.

Anyway, here are the couples moodboards, as promised. The visuals were inspired by Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juilet because these past few months since January I have been on a 90’s and 2000’s kick and I am dying for how that movie captured the beauty, grit, grime, and excitement of LA. So enjoy and let me know what you think! 💜

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We open with our crossover couple who are the star-crossed lovers—Cheryl Blossom, the queen of the Palisades and star tennis player and Pugsley “Lee” Addams, the king of Elysian Heights and leader of his grunge sleeze band Texca. Born second generation to a working class defense attorny and day-time caregiver to the elderly, Lee Addams has just wants to make it through his senior year of high school and hangout with his friends on the weekend. But when he and his twin sister Wednesday step a little too far over the line at their old school their parents pull some strings to have their three children—Wednesday, Pugsley, and Pubert “Bertie” attend Morticia’s former high school. There, Lee unwittingly comes face to face with the campus queen, the indomitable and untouchable Cheryl Blossom. Born into privilege with the face of an angel and the bite of a viper, she has everything and anything. Influence thanks to her parents name. Adoration by way of her beauty. And power because of her abilities to manipulate others. But what happens when a hurricane meets an immoveable force? Will they fold? Destroy one another? What happens when the pretty vicious face isn’t all it seems to be and the cutting confidence is stripped away? Who are the real people that lie beneath it all?

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Next are our second pair of the four star-crossed lovers. While it is never a good idea to fall for your twin flame, for Tyler and Wednesday it isn’t so simple. Twin flames and soulmates fused into one as if it were a sick joke, their story begins at a party—the raven haired twin sister with her face painted like a Catrina (see: Dia de los Muertos symbols and iconography) and the Galpin golden boy dressed like Sir Lancelot with the sacred heart etched into his chest plate. Like her brothers, Wednesday grew up living a modest life where nothing was taken for granted and family sits at the heart of all major decisions. For Tyler, he has forgotten the importance of family and community after starting university where his life has evolved into an endless stream of parties and hookup’s. Never struggling but also never being challenged to be better or grow, he’s hit a wall. A mid-life crisis of sorts but at the already chaotic age of 18 with his 19th birthday right around the corner. But from the moment he lays eyes on Wednesday she is all he can think of. All he breathes and dreams of—a beautiful stranger that won’t free him. Yet when this silver tongued Casanova tries to approach the dark beauty he’s shot down. Challenged to question who he is and what he truly is doing with his life that matters. What is in store for the idealistic social revolutionist and her troubled admirer? Where will they land when the walls of his kingdom come crumbling down?

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The youngest of three siblings each yet one is protected and coddled like a greenhouse flower while the other has flourished amidst hardship and bouts of poverty. Wynn Galpin is caught in a never-ending loop of compassions to her twin older siblings, Tyler and Enid. Both are straight A students. Both star athletes with Tyler winning championship after championship for swim and Enid earning a full-ride scholarship to UCLA for volleyball. Both are charming and charismatic. Both are perfect and Wynn can never compare despite how she tries. She doesn’t have the passion for swim or volleyball so she chooses cheer. “That’s not a real sport” she’s told. Her siblings get A’s but she can hardly scrape by with B’s while battling her depression and anxiety. At all times, her mind is screaming for her to just run off and disappear. And after the loss of her friend and pseudo-sister Polly, the darkness has become more persuasive. More invasive and vicious. But it is during a spiral that forces her out of the gym during cheer practice that she runs into the new kid. The brainiac junior in her senior level AP classes. Pubert “Bertie” Addams. A carefree class clown with a heart of gold and the virgin Guadalupe drawn in vibrant neons on the bottom of his skateboard. Where will this new path take them when the class clown and the beauty queen who seems to always be in tears meet to form an oddball friendship? And what happens when their hearts begin to long for more than just friendship but their worlds couldn’t be more different? How will things turn out for the greenhouse flower and her sidewalk dandelion?

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What’s the worst that could happen when you fall in love with your best friend? What happens when you think they love someone else? When you think they could never see you the way you see them in return? Do you stand there and wait for them to turn around? Or do you walk away while piecing together your heart that will never know real closure? Reggie has asked himself these questions nearly every day for the past six years since his family moved to the fringes of the Palisades and enrolled him in the affluent junior high nearby. Archie Andrews was his first friend at his new school all those years ago. The first one to get up during lunch time and sit down next to him. The one who didn’t care that his parents weren’t from money and had only recently come into their fortune. The one who didn’t care that he didn’t have the newest clothes, phone, or hairstyle. Like a guardian angel come to save him from perpetual solitude, Archie befriended Reggie with a bright smile and a silly joke. And since that day, Reggie has kept his love for the redhaired boy wonder to himself. Has been the picture of what a bestfriend should be. Has supported Archie and defended him. Joined their high school swim team with him just so that they could live out Archie’s dream of being the one’s to break Tyler, the former captain’s, record and win more championships than him and his team did. Reggie has lived a beautiful but painful lie for nearly a decade and the cracks have begun to show. The devotion now agony. The love a barbed dagger twisted liettle by little every time he has to play third wheel on Archie’s dates with his girlfriend Veronica. But one night their eyes meet across a sea of moving bodies at a house party. Archie kissing Veronica but can’t stop looking at Reggie. There’s a spark. A sadness. Hope. But is there truth? Is there a willingness to be honest? To accept this attraction that has been there waiting from the start? Does Archie know what real love could be like if he just turned around? Or will the lovefool angel look away once again and leave the poor friend and saint in the dark?

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Stay tuned for more because this is only the beginning. Next will be the auxiliary couples, characters, and family boards for the three main ones at play. But the next next post that will be following this one will be the official titlecard for Chapter One. Can’t wait to see you all again there. 💜

[lxmelle]

Thoughts/Ponderings/Musings on ch 236. About Gojo reaching Sukuna, his death, his relationships, etc.

I know there are people who really dislike the characterisation here, expressing that Gojo is likely far more kind and caring for his students, etc.

Gege and his infinite wisdom over his creation seems to like encouraging headcanon kaisen, lol. He certainly keeps things quite true to life and allows the reader to make their own conclusions.

It is not my place as a casual reader to judge his writing, and I will defend it inasmuch as I also had hoped for more: Just because it isn’t explicitly said, doesn’t mean those things we have seen about Gojo aren’t true. I agree that it is also a shame that more wasn’t or couldn’t be included in this chapter to either dispel or confirm, but that’s masterful writing in itself, I guess.

I take small refuge in my interpretation that this is a glimpse of a conversation; as in real life, we ease into conversations. I enjoyed the dynamics and overall tone. I like to remember that each expression was a decision made, and these details can hold a lot of weight in meaning.

So we see that Gojo prefaces with something else and was responding rather specifically to Geto’s question regarding his fight, his end.

Geto, a natural conversationalist, who is said to be good at being at Gojo’s level, enquires about his fight - entering into neutral territory after Gojo expressed frustration and being stunned after his sudden arrival there.

Geto reads him / the atmosphere well and responds to tune the conversation to a level he can reach Gojo, despite possibly having a lot to say and catch up on himself. (Like, we never hear him talk about his family aside from confirming they escaped.)

He is showing respect for his friend. What do they have to rush for, anyway? I don’t think there is a specific afterlife if they chose to go south. Time may be infinite?

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A lot more under the cut. Feel free to skim and apologies in advance for tangents. I hope it makes sense overall. I tried to make it as cohesive as possible despite being lengthy.

:: Beware the Word Vomit, overall reaching, meta, interpretations, some satosugu shipping, and general weaving and stringing of themes. ::

Disclaimer: I’m fully aware I may be wrong, as I am with many things, and you’re welcome to drop me any comments or thoughts.

One of the glaring issues was the “Sukuna glazing” as some fans called it. To see Gojo having regard for Sukuna’s strength doesn’t take anything away from Gojo imho, but I get it. What was all this reaching that Gojo was expressing? Surely that doesn’t that precedence? Of all things, is this what he’s regretting in what is possibly his last significant scene in the manga?

A part of me relates to this outrage, but then I try to bring myself down, because we are often kept out of what intimacies are exchanged between Gojo and significant ones (Geto, students, etc.) and we aren’t / haven’t been privy to many deep and elaborate reflections of Gojo or Geto. All we get are ellipses “...” and depictions of longing stares that don’t quite betray their honest thoughts.

So, within the context of the above, Geto asks directly and Gojo describes. Of course he’d want to know how Gojo experienced it. He’s always been the one who cared about how Gojo actually feels or experiences things. He might join in a bit of friendly ribbing, but Geto and Gojo communicate on another level with banter, etc. there’s a reason they’re each other’s best friend.

I also see an interpretation where it cycles back to love is the most twisted curse: it can save people, but it may hold you back from being the strongest. Love has been a theme since the origin story in jjk 0. Gojo’s love for his students and Megumi may or may not have affected their chances of success, but he nevertheless cares and bets on the future (students).

Geto has always been shown to be Gojo’s significant person - a safe person, if you will. Thematically, their designs are two parts of a whole. Their fates intertwine in so many ways, only to be separated ultimately to death.

Since, he’s described not feeling lonely anymore, through love for this students (his legacy and will) and even more now (for himself) that he was wrong about dying alone. He had wanted to find a way to bring Geto home (to jujutsu high [Geto’s theme song “come back home” given by Gege is all about this after all]) but despite all that’s happened, he is with him at the airport, and Gojo is satisfied enough with that, but won’t waste time not bridging gaps any longer -

Gojo is so very forthcoming with Geto in his adult years. Given the opportunity in jjk 0, he not only asks for his last wishes, but conveys his as well. He then speaks his heart in his conversation with Geto; he is candid, yet serious.

I’d like to think it’s infused with more emotion than he ever did in their early days. He confirms his feelings to Geto and confesses his desire to have had him there to send him off. More on this later.

In the original version of the manga, Gojo momentarily reverts back to the use of “ore” just once, before it becomes “boku” again - a shift had taken place in him due to what Geto said in the past. To demonstrate that in a few short panels is quite something too. People change; we evolve through the influence of significant others.

Gojo knows loneliness as he has learnt about love in its different forms. To really know it is perchance what Sukuna doesn’t, despite saying he does.

From this point of view, he says he is sorry for him, as he’s got empathy for Sukuna; that Sukuna couldn’t learn what he had wanted to convey, but perhaps the emphasis was more of a pity for him than feeling disappointed.

In a typical Gojo fashion, he captures it clumsily and makes it about strength in his speech, as if punches and skills thrown at each other could convey that it doesn’t have to be lonely and that they could understand each other - that having a peer would be interesting / satisfying - perhaps also seeking a sense of validation himself in Sukuna. It’s possibly also what prompts people like Nanami to call him out on the extreme emphasis on strength. But maybe that’s Gojo’s defence mechanism too, who knows. If Gojo had a love language, would it be fighting talk? Ha ha.

This reminds me of how Gojo was perhaps unintentionally condescending to Geto at the KFC breakup scene - it was the final nail in the coffin for Geto and he shut down completely, remarking the now infamous, “Are you Gojo Satoru because you’re the strongest or are you the strongest because you are Gojo Satoru?” But that’s by the by I guess. It wasn’t as if Sukuna was going in for therapy / love intervention with anyone, lol. Fighting was the conversation.

So moving on, what is Sukuna’s perspective and what could it be that Gojo wanted to convey, and presumably died trying? Looking at the next fight, he is asked directly about his perspective as the strongest in history who stands above the rest.

Sukuna. The pinnacle; the epitome of strength, solitude, and one who has cast away everything - seemingly peacefully - in favour of being formidable at the top. Revered and feared in equal measure.

He is so strong yet he doesn’t need anything the others facing off with him seem to yearn. The all want to reach him for their own reasons. Maybe like disciples chasing the Buddha. What is his message? Can I understand him, and he, me? And then, ourselves?

This fight was supposedly for himself too - but what was he yearning? Gojo at first glance appears to wish to defend himself, everyone, and save megumi. Mourn Geto too. From what we understand, he's been lonely, despite this improving over the past year (through his admission to Geto later on in the airport scene).

The mark of The Strongest has been left: As soon as Gojo became strong, Geto left. Geto didn’t love him for his strength - he had to leave; in part, because feeling out of place and left behind in the a shadow of a person who is now living by “the strongest, alone” hurt, making the ills of the world unbearable, as it tipped the balance greatly for him. He could not see beyond Gojo’s apparent selfless selfishness, and he did the same with his own version of it. He had to pave his own way and build another family & world - even if it was a shell of what he had with Gojo.

But I digress. Gojo had strength but it wasn’t enough to reach Geto. He has been using his Strength as a teacher to foster a new generation, allies, in a bid to change the Jujutsu world in a different way to Geto. Yes, they shared a dream. (I hope this comes back into the picture with Geto's side fighting Sukuna too.)

He sees this curse taking shape - first with Yuji and then Megumi. I can’t imagine the outrage, and how it’s internalised by Gojo. He possibly dissociates to some degree, as one wouldn’t be able to function if they carried the weight of the world (in information and in sensation overload) all the time. He’s trained himself to be selective. So, nevertheless, there is a call to defend his title; he is also bored, wants to be a good example, and plays his part to assist with defeating Sukuna - tries to reach him but maybe it just wasn’t his message to relay. Gojo’s job was done here. He got what he wanted - a satisfying fight. More on this later.

We see the futility this far in reaching Sukuna across chapters. Responding to “love”… Harming those along the way carelessly, as he wanders simply proving his existence, as if that alone is enough to justify and bring it purpose. As a calamity or curse, he doesn’t need to consider what he is.

This is the extreme of what strength is - of what Gojo could have become. Perhaps if he wasn't so deeply touched by having someone complete him, so he could be a brat in his youth and actually trust someone to fall back on. And had he not suffered loss through Geto leaving, would've meant he never had to question himself or experience doubt or longing in his life, as he was gifted, was he not? Or was it actually a curse?

Is it meaningful to be the only one at the top of the mountain where nobody can even reach? What good does the embodiment of strength bring, if there is nobody to recognise that it is, no one to yield the power for to give it meaning, and no use for the sheer magnitude of what you can do to give it purpose?

Sukuna says he knows love and cast it away, finding it worthless, that he responds to others’ strength with love through besting them in a fight. He gets his “kicks” like Gojo did to some degree like in the theme song for Gojo by Aviccii:

(Oh, my, my) That's what I get for lovin' you

(Lie, lie, lie) You know I can't live without you

(Why, why, why?) And all the things you put me through

(Cry, cry, cry) 'Cause I'll get my kicks without you

Life must be pretty monochromatic as The Strongest. Rinse repeat until no one is left.

Following the loss of love, Gojo tried to find meaning and pass the time in ways befitting of him too. Everyone has to find a way to move on, right? But it doesn’t mean everyone feels fulfilled or healed. He drilled skills into his tempered body throughout the years of his existence; he wanted to showcase it all to Sukuna - the reason he fought and battled and trained and developed his incredible sense - his spirit that does so for himself (yes he does get kicks from it) but also for others - because Gojo is an evolved form of The Strongest. Maybe The Strongest 2.0 and Yuta is version 3.0. You get my drift.

Gojo is representing the sorcerers of the modern world. Whilst Gege likes to poke fun and say he is devoid of a personality; I’d say that isn’t it quite natural when your role in life has already been partially determined for you at birth? Further, as a “victim” of circumstance due to the setting, trauma and heavy reliance on Gojo to fulfil all sorcerer duties from a young age (esp after Geto left) can certainly leave you in a state of emotional arrested development.

To reiterate, Gojo, unlike Sukuna, DOES find meaning and purpose in his students. He wised up and found the sense in what he and Geto discussed, learning from the past and adopting certain philosophies that suited him.

But still, as the strongest, Gojo was lonely with the line drawn - as a human being (self/identity) hiding behind a living creature (of strength/facade); Gojo seemed to be saying through the blooming lotuses (flowers growing out of literal muddy waters - rich in religious and cultural sumbolism) that he loves everyone but despite that they couldn’t understand him, and him, them. This is the main interpretation that makes sense as Gojo is talking about himself, his allies (esp Megumi), even possibly Geto, but he is also talking about reaching Sukuna.

Considering the possible interpretations for who the lotuses symbolise... he less common one from my readings thus far would be Sukuna; but it kinda makes sense: Sukuna, who was born to unfavourable circumstances, and similar to Hakari who described the strong looking down at others as if they were dirt. And achieving so much like a rising from the ashes. We also see him glorified as the strongest of all time now.

And it reinforces the “unreachability” (made up a word here) and how it was an impossible task in the first place.

The message being: How can Gojo reach someone who does not want to be reached? This cycles back to what he said to Yaga when Geto left. He cannot save anyone who does not want to be saved by others.

If Sukuna was the lotus, and was a beautiful flower in strength that defied odds to bloom in the murky depths of dirt - he certainly isn’t pure as the flower symbolises, but he certainly is some kind of divinity. But I really don’t want to glorify Sukuna.

I prefer the interpretation of the lotus being Gojo or those around him, but narratively, it is simply possible he is describing several people’s parallels here with how solitude accompanies being strong. Sukuna is like the unreachable Enlightened One. Yet, he strangely doesn’t seem to have a solid sense of identity - there is no “I am the strongest” that Gojo embraces, not that this is anything to hinge one’s identity upon, as it is part of Gojo’s problem.

And yet this still brings us to what Gojo wanted to reach Sukuna with aside from a demonstration of his skills. Does Yuta have anything to add to this, as the next Gojo Satoru?

Yuta, if we can appeal to his character for parallels in messages, and if we can consider him The Strongest 3.0 asked Uro - don’t you have a lover or friends? Implying that if one fights so desperately for their own sake, it reaches a dead end fairly quickly. Just WHO are you fighting for, and doesn’t fighting for yourself get a little old after decades?

Even Toji (without his soul when ressurected) instinctively ended his rampage at the sight of what his reason for living was, his son, albeit he cared for Megumi in a very dodgy roundabout way, fearing his closeness would ruin / stain his son. I’m reminded here of how Geto’s body reacted to Gojo’s voice; momentarily seizing Kenjaku by the throat.

Somehow the bond between Gojo and Geto is marking its significance again, isn’t it? They all had reasons they fought for, and through the many evidences of these, we are allowed insight into recurring ones that may hold more significance than others. You know, like: my students are watching, let’s schedule it on the 24th of December.

These are important things to gojo, he is also showing Sukuna what he doesn’t have. He didn’t need to live like a cursed object for decades, etc and his significance doesn’t die when he does. Yes, a big part of Gojo had craved this “all out” but as he lives his life and engages in the battle, all the pieces of WHY, WHO, and WHAT he is wielding power for start to surface.

As the reader we are finding these Easter eggs along with him, because the narrator and Gojo don’t disclose this openly. Gojo has people modelling this for him throughout his short life, and he seems to be quick on the uptake, despite preaching about strength. Maybe he isn’t terribly aware, but he knows more than he lets on - Gojo had a persona.

We probably can say the same about the “I’d win” scene that pretty much foreshadowed his defeat. That kind of a Champion enters the ring without fighting talk?

The scene depicting him reflecting upon his first ever defeat showed him to be chasing a “high” of satisfaction from going all out and fulfilling the itch of Boredom and Loneliness that plagues the unimaginably strong. Pursuing and honing his skill, getting stronger and stronger, drew him further and further away from anything meaningful - ending up in a state where he never really gets the satisfying release he craves.

Like a runner who is only allowed to run at 5kmph for a short distance; an artist who isn’t able to paint their desired masterpiece; a singer whose voice can only whispered to an audience; the strongest weightlifter who can only utilise 20% of his max strength... How terribly dissatisfying.

How stifling it is to have such a limitation. And yes, his skill is limitless. How ironic indeed - the repression, the impotence strength imposes.

And while we are on skill/technique names, others have pointed out before - unlimited void? What a perfect description of what felt meaninglessness / existential emptiness is.

The underside of this however was how it also alluded to the possibility that he was going to experience another enlightenment - but of a final kind of his physical form. It implies he was tired from his isolation or that there was at least no remedy for it, and therefore his present sense of fulfilment was to engage in battle and enjoy it - although he recognised signs of defeat - it would be satisfying as he could go all out or die trying.

It would fulfill the purpose of his existence as The Strongest contender anyway. He, could be the victor, or the pawn, who plays his part in the universe. His reigning time as the champion needed to be defended with dignity anyway. It reminds me of his conversation with Megumi about death and being selfish.

I mean, that's just imbued with meaning there. A whole post needs to be dedicated to It, and I'm not the subject matter expert by a long mile. Gojo’s bottom line was that strength did define him; he was born with it.

Watching Megumi possibly minimise his worth and clip his wings without pursuing / living up to his potential may be a waste, as a person who inherited the skills that took their ancestors down. However, the selfish path may not be for everyone.

Other writers’ meta I’ve read seem to touch on this too - that Gojo unwittingly became a form of the old Jujutsu world himself due to being a product of it himself, but he did do his best by his students to inspire change. This, to me, speaks volumes about him entrusting them to live out their paths upon his passing - what could he do in death, anyway? He taught them the importance of accountability and his own version of the truth - that power and strength - living to your potential is certainly one way of living, and they can expect to die alone, so make the most of their youth!

We witnessed Gojo making preparations for the match, following setting the date on 24th December. How romantic of Geto, to try and either seek Rika in jjk 0 or die to Gojo’s hand - and then now, Gojo, who may mourn Geto again, or die trying on the same day. It begs the question: was he also secretly at peace with the possibility of dying to Sukuna? At not being the strongest? It seems that him being a pragmatist (or “resignation man” as Gege apparently once put it) he would find some peace, especially since he was Geto in the afterlife and could see that his soul wasn’t trapped in his physical body or something - their corpses could be left to the living and Shoko, which seems to be the faithful stance they both take in trusting the living to “carry on” their respective teachings.

Nevertheless, Gojo is trying to reach Megumi here. But as the incredibly gifted, talented, and strongest - albeit as cursed as it is to be afflicted with it all, Gojo may not empathise with the struggles of the weaker. It is reminiscent of how he approaches the battle with Sukuna in the first place. He was challenged and he accepted.

A sport. That's not to say he lost sight of the bigger picture - we saw Gojo making preparations for a possible reality where he does not return.

Unfortunately, his skills also lend towards fighting alone, unless they were back-to-back with him. (I still hold onto the belief he and Geto could be a dynamic duo). Which Sukuna also used against him in their match in order to not get hit. Gojo has never learnt what it would be like to fight with others and it's old-fashioned egoist rules about matches when viewing it as a sport rather than of survival. But, Gojo had changed enough to feel he could reach Sukuna and had desired to impart something - maybe to have significance or be regarded by an equal - once again - for this would be of utmost satisfaction for him to receive.

He had learnt a whole lot about things in his short life. He did well. In a final battle of 3 vs 1? Against Sukuna in the body of Megumi and the 10 shadows that his ancestors had died to? That’s already unprecedented. But strength aside, Gojo had reached many people and it’s time for him to pass on the baton and be where he wants to be, in the version of himself where he is the happiest.

Gojo admits to being wrong about dying alone, further listening to how Nanami and Haibara reflected on the former's death betting on the future seemed to solidify some kind of understanding for him.

That he didn’t have regrets either. He, too, fought for a purpose beyond seeing satisfaction of being strong; it just became evident as it surfaced to his awareness. With his six eyes, he couldn’t see everything. With limitless, he couldn’t reach it all either. Even if you have everything, you can’t do anything. It is not enough to just be strong. And Gojo wasn’t just strong in the end.

He may or may not have reached Sukuna, but maybe, just maybe, in being wrong about dying alone, the necessity for everyone to be both selfless and selfish, was enough for Gojo. To reach and arrive at: Acceptance.

Seems pretty good to me, to be at peace.

—

“The absolute strongest, the loneliness that follows, the one who will teach you about love is... “

Yorozu’s haunting words.

Gojo is not the strongest anymore

Gojo didn’t feel lonely anymore

The one who will teach has taught him about love is...

You, Geto Suguru. It started with you, and it ends with you.

—

Yes, sound the alarm! It's satosugu brainrot headcanon.

Gojo seems to be saying, and I’ll phrase this as if he were speaking to Geto in his mind’s voice:

Yes, I was undeniably the strongest; until I wasn't. It was a fun fight. My students are my legacy; I trust them to take it from here too. They know they have the permission to be selfish. I trust that they have their own wisdom to know the difference; it is up to them now. I did my best to change the world that let us down in our youth; and fostered and shielded those under my care as best as I could with what I had. I think they had some good memories; I sought to give them a flavour of what we had, preserving the treasure that it was for us. I was never the teacher type, but I wanted to do something and clung onto a dream you and I shared.

I responded to others who loved me and surrounded me for my strength (living creature); but for me as a human, I am undeniably greedy and longed, pined for you (the only one who saw me: Satoru). You held the space as my one and only. I let you go back then in Shinjuku, and couldn’t let your body go when you died, and you came back as a puppet... I didn’t get to mourn you, but here we are: dying on the same date a year apart. Others still don’t quite get me (like Nanami and Haibara) but they understand the creature that is a part of me. They accept me; in itself, it’s enough, for a part of it is true.

As for the rest of me: you complete me with your understanding of me; parts of me that I don’t see or have forgotten. Just as unchanging as it was before, I’ve only ever needed you to satisfy me (and ease my solitude) ; no matter who filled the space around me, your absence spoke the loudest, because your presence alone would have been the most profound - I’d have felt satisfied / complete.

And yes, I am 100% romanticising here. Unashamedly!

—

A more pragmatic take would be:

He could be quite simply implying that he carried a guilt for the longest time and the one thing he couldn't achieve was to bring his best friend back home to Jujutsu High. I mean I adore Teacher AU and I'm totally open to this more shonen interpretation too.

The finale was as he entered the other land, in a dreamlike state, he sees Geto, remembers he’s tasked Shoko to tell Megumi, demonstrating he has infinite faith in the next generation to survive, and it’s sufficient, it seems, to have a death without regret.

We see Sukuna offering recognition of his skill and existence after he is slashed, laying on the floor, as it begins to snow. A small smirk appears that seems to also mirror the same on his expression in the cover of volume 26. Satisfaction. Gojo might’ve been a worthy opponent and reached Sukuna in that regard after all; maybe love was not his lesson to teach Sukuna. He has died a noble death befitting of a warrior to be surrounded by camellias.

Gojo Satoru passes onto the afterlife and heads south.

—

It’s controversial somehow; it is both enough, and leaves me wanting more. Here’s to hoping it’s not the last of Gojo (or Geto).

Maybe I did just want to dream a little. Thanks for reading if you made it this far. My tapestries tend to get quite complicated, and I wouldn’t blame anyone if they bailed!

[traningdummy]

Detective and Professor

Javier Peña X professor! Male Reader

(power bottom Javier is amazing is write, omg)

Javier sighed as he walked through his room, as today a class was coming through the department today. His chief had apparently approved the local college’s criminal justice class to come through. He wanted to stay out of the department, but his boss needed him to show them around.

After he got his clothes on he got his badge and left, loving the wind on his hair. When he made it to the department the class wasn’t there yet, so he decided to go inside to make sure his desk was clear. Yet when he walked inside, the class was already there.

Students left and right, each talking to cops, detectives, and new recruits. Javier sighed and tried to get through unnoticed till he bumped into someone. He almost fell before he caught himself.

“I am so sorry!” The person said, Javier sighed before looking at the person. The man was surprisingly very handsome, wearing a nice suit, with a possibly new hat. “Again, so sorry sir I’m looking for Javier Peña have you seen him?” The man asked and he sighed before nodding.

“That’s me, let me guess I’m supposed to show you around?” Javier said and the man sheepishly nodded.

“Students gather up!” The man yelled to his class, to Javier’s surprise they all listened. The man counted all of the students before nodding, and gave out some papers. “Remember, take notes as we will have a small worksheet about this tomorrow.” He informed the class, most nodded and a few others sighed.

“Let’s get the tour started.” Javier spoke and led them through the department, the evidence room, while also noticing the professor’s stare. Javier would catch him staring, he found it funny that the man was blatantly staring.

•••

The students all split up again, leaving Y/n with Javier. Both drinking coffee, Y/n’s face red as he was caught multiple times staring at Javier’s body. Javier had a smirk seeing the other man all flustered.

“What were you staring at?” Javier asked the professor as he took another sip of his coffee. The other man sputtered but didn’t answer as his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Your ass, sorry if I invaded your space Javier.” Y/n mumbled, trying to be sincere but also not have his students hear him. He wouldn’t want to be tormented by them as well. “Please don’t tell my students anything.” He asked Javier who nodded.

“I don’t want to embarrass you that much, I never caught your name. What is it?” Javier asked and put down his mug.

“Oh, it’s Y/n L/n, I teach the criminal justice class at the college. Nice to meet you Javier.” He said and the two shook hands. They began to talk to one another, as the ice had broke. Y/n’s students saw their professor and knew they were going to mess with him.

•••

A few weeks after Y/n took his students to the department, he and Javier talked a lot. In his free time he would call the man to talk, or go to the department. On some rare occasions Javier would come to his classroom, sometimes when it’s empty but often when it’s full.

Javier became a class favorite during the weeks he came, always having interesting stories to provide to the class. Some good, and some not so good, he mostly had stories where he had sex to get information.

But Y/n fell hard for the man, having his heart always flutter whenever he came in unannounced. It felt like he was on cloud nine, and even his students could see the love in his eyes. They all shipped the two, always smiling whenever Javier came in to share another story.

So, with the help of a few of his students, he got the courage to ask Javier to the teacher student prom. A night where teachers can watch and even party with the students, with many restrictions imposed. But regardless every teacher got a plus one, and Y/n wanted it to be Javier.

So he went to the department after grading, thankfully he caught Javier as he was leaving. “Hey Javier!” He yelled to get the man’s attention. Javier looked over and gave a faint smile, putting away his suitcase and leaned against his car.

“Hey Y/n, let me guess you forgot another pen?” He asked, as it was Y/n’s usual excuse to hang out with Javier. The professor shook his head with a sheepish grin.

“No, I have all of mine, I double checked. I actually had a question to ask. Would you like to be my plus one to a dance?” Y/n asked, giving him a flyer for the dance. Javier looked at Y/n before skimming through, seeing it was legit.

“Hmm, I’ll see if I can make it. No promises.” He said, and Y/n nodded. He was happy the other man even considered the invitation. “See you later professor.” He said, getting into his car and drove off.

•••

The night of the dance was a stressful one for Y/n, he had to find a good suit. One that wasn’t too flashy yet enough to make him stand out a little. Yet once he was dressed and ready he headed to the campus.

When he arrived he got there early enough to help set up, saying his greetings to the other teachers. Yet sadly his suit got unwanted attention by a few of his colleagues. Feeling stares on his body as he walked around and helped, it made him feel uncomfortable but he didn’t say much.

Finally the dance was all set up, both students and teachers came flooding into the large gym. Y/n decided to stay near the drink station to make sure no one spiked the punch. Yet he also looked around for Javier.

Javier sighed as he looked into his closet, all he had were a few shirts and pants. It was a dance and he wanted to dress somewhat nice for Y/n, but he decided against it. Getting on what he thought looked good and left for the campus, following the directions on the flyer.

When he arrived there were already many people outside the gym. He parked his car and went into the gym, where he had to show his invite to a security guard. Inside there was music blaring, students dancing, teachers talking amongst themselves.

Yet as he looked he couldn’t find Y/n, so he went further in to get a better look around. Which was a terrible idea as many people crowded him, lightly shoving him around. Thankfully someone pulled him out of the chaos.

“Finally!” Y/n said as he pulled Javier to the drink stand. “You want some?” He asked and the man nodded, taking the cup from Y/n. “So you showed up, I’m glad.” He said with a smile, taking a sip from his own drink.

As the two talked to each other they enjoyed themselves. Even though the music was loud, students were yelling to talk to one another, they felt like it was only them in the room. But the mood was ruined when one of the teachers came up to them.

“Hey Y/n!” She said with a smile, she was obviously intoxicated as both men could smell the vodka on her breath. “Wanna have a dance?” She asked, and Y/n being too nice for his own good said yes.

“I’ll be back!” He yelled to Javier as he was dragged to the dance floor. Javier grumbled as he felt his throat feel constricted and it burned. He wanted to yell at the woman for taking Y/n, but he didn’t want to get in trouble.

Yet he watched Y/n and the woman like a hawk as they danced, making sure she kept her hands off of him. Yet whenever a slow song finally came on she had her hands on his shoulders. Y/n looked uncomfortable but didn’t say anything as he ghosted his hands over her waist.

Yet whenever she squeezed Y/n’s ass, that was the straw that broke Javier’s patience. He stood up and went to Y/n’s rescue, taking her hands off of his shoulders. “Sorry ma’am but we have to get home, our babysitter has to get home.” He said with malice in his voice.

Before she could complain Javier took Y/n and they left the gym. Heading outside and to his car, Y/n sighed and leaned against the man's car. Finally relaxing after getting away from the teacher, he loosened his tie before giving Javier a smile.

“Thank you Javier, if we kept going I was scared I would get drunk from her breath.” He joked and the man laughed, slowing cornering Y/n. Putting his hands on either side of the professor, pinning him to the car. “Woah, umm, is it just me or are you heating up?” Y/n asked as he chuckled nervously.

Javier didn’t say anything as he looked Y/n in the eyes. Waiting for any form of confirmation, which he found when the other man put his hands on his face. He leaned into his hands before leaning in, kissing the man softly. “Huh, tastes like punch and beer.” He mumbled, going in for another kiss, this time going for Y/n’s neck.

“Fuck, Javier I think we should do this someplace else. I don’t want to get called into the deans office for public indecency.” Y/n said, worried about losing his job. Javier nodded and the two got into his car, thankfully for Y/n he didn’t bring his car as he walked to the campus.

•••

Javier began his merciless attack on Y/n’s neck as soon as the door to his apartment closed. The professor moaned and whined, trying to take off his suit. Yet when he gave up Javier helped him, which stopped the assault on Y/n’s neck for a moment.

When it was off Javier ripped off the rest of Y/n’s clothes, wanting to see the man he dreamed of naked. They moved to his couch and Javier straddled Y/n’s lap, feeling his cock go hard against his own. Javier took off his own clothes faster then he took off Y/n’s.

“Jesus, you’re so handsome.” Y/n said between his groans and moans, Javier smiled and leaned the man down on his couch. Back against the couch while his chest was exposed, Javier then removed both his and Y/n’s boxers revealing their cocks.

“Could you sit on my face?” Y/n asked, almost taking the man above him off guard. “I just stare at your ass, and I just wanted to eat you out. Oh my god I sound like a pervert.” He said and Javier laughed, he scooted up and slowly lowered himself onto Y/n.

Soon enough the man was eating him out, Javier was moaning at the feeling. “Esto parece divino.” He moaned, never feeling any sensation like this before. It was a welcoming feeling, he could get used to this. The feeling of Y/n’s tongue in his ass, eating him out like a meal.

But he needed more, he needed to claim the man below him. So, much to Y/n’s dismay, he moved back to his hips. “Aww, I didn’t get to finish.” Y/n complained, yet he stopped his whining when he saw what Javier had planned next. The man positioned himself above Y/n’s cock before lowering himself onto it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The man below Javier mumbled, and soon he bottomed out. Both men took a few breaths before Javier began to ride, loving the man under him unraveled with pleasure. The dorky and pervy professor who he crushed on, became his.

He saw Y/n’s hands try to hold his hips, but he moved them up above his head. “No touching.” He said sternly, the man nodded and let Javier keep going. Javier could feel how much Y/n wanted to touch him as his hands shook in his hold, it made him smirk, feeling how desperate the man was.

Soon Y/n came into Javier, his hips thrusting into him as he did. But Javier hadn’t released yet, so he took the time he needed to finish. “J-Javier.” Y/n whimpered, feeling the overstimulation as the man above him kept riding.

“You can keep going, can’t you cariño?” He asked, and Y/n nodded, not wanting to disappoint the man. So he endured the overstimulation in his cock as Javier kept riding, chasing his own high. Yet he decided to let go of Y/n’s hands, thinking he was too overwhelmed to touch his hips.

He was right as Y/n’s hands only touched Javier’s chest, feeling him up and down. Keeping his hands away from Javier’s hips, wanting to be a good man for Javier. Soon Y/n felt Javier slow his pace, thinking he was soon to finish yet the man had other plans.

He moved himself to where his cock was in front of Y/n’s face. “Open.” He said and the professor obliged, opening his mouth to let the man abuse it. Javier thrusted in and out, loving the sound of Y/n slightly choking on him. Thankfully he started to feel his climax, so he gave a few more hard thrusts before releasing in Y/n’s throat.

“Oh fuck.” He mumbled as he pulled out his cock, seeing that Y/n had taken all the cum Javier had shot. He thought he was tired, but when he saw Y/n’s fucked out expression he felt ready for another round.

•••

The next day Y/n had hickey’s all over his body, neck, and legs. His students snickered amongst each other already knowing what had conspired. Y/n sighed and opened his suitcase to see a small note from Javier, as he read it he smiled before putting it away.

[pastelwhile-art]

Why you should succumb to Makokuu

If youve seen this post before no you havent (I reuploaded it because I realise no one saw the essay under the cut since the ship chart blocked it BYE)

A silly essay about a Makoto X Kusuke dynamic (with some actual analysis.) Feel free to (plz) talk to me about this in the replies and correct anything I got wrong/missing.

This was suppose to be a google presentation I did for the funsies inspired from the presentations made for #Saiki ppt party but I got uh. carried away with explaining the characters and realised I didn't know how to make it funny so instead I'm putting this as a whole essay yipee

The Ship Basis

Makoto and Kusuke are paired together notably because they parallel each other, being the older brother to a main character with an unhealthy dynamic to their younger sibling. They also happen to despise the other's sibling, yet both competing with Kusuo to some degree. Although with no canon interactions, you're pretty much able to put whatever dynamic you want into this ship.

Makoto and Kusuke are also at similar ages and life stages. By the end of the manga, Makoto is 18 and has a rising acting career, and Kusuke is 19 and graduated from Cambridge (and works on... who knows what.)

The rest under the cut!1!

Personality Summary

But, what will really make or break this relationship is their personality and the dynamic that comes from it. I tried to keep this short lmao but feel free to skip it if you feel like you know their character well enough.

Makoto Makoto is a creepy guy, and that's all because his entire personality is centered around the sis-con incest trope. While I won't get into how the manga handles it, it makes Makoto a really unlikeable character.

From what we can see, to most people Makoto is very polite and friendly, much of what his fans expect from him. It's really just a lack of care though, as his inner voice constantly tells us he'd rather get back to Kokomi. When faced with someone he sees as competition to his dream life with his sister, he shows off his real side - he's arrogant, short-tempered and vulgar. Makoto becomes agreeable to Kusuo though when it means helping Kokomi (he takes credit, of course.)

Kusuke In the way Makoto's life obsesses around Kokomi as romantic figure, Kusuke instead centers his life around Kusuo as the ultimate person to defeat.

Kusuke was born a genius, but despite them, has constantly felt defeated by his psychic brother. He lands himself into the 'average' category, an inferiority complex he blames his brother for.

Yet Kusuke is fully aware of his intellect over other people. He will conceitedly toy with people's feelings, or be extremely bored by them. He sees Kusuo as the only person who can defeat him, so he sometimes underestimates people as seen in Kokomi's chapter.

So, how could a dynamic with Makoto and Kusuke work out?

Given the Kusuke-Kokomi chapter, and every single interaction with Makoto and Kusuo, both of them look down on the other's siblings. Makoto would absolutely immediately hate Kusuke, and Kusuke would find it enjoyable to mess with Makoto back. It would could create a very comedic rivalry dynamic, an enemies to lovers if you will. (Fun fact, they both compare their sibling as heaven compared to the other.)

Although both of them compete with Kusuo, so a way for them to bond would be their shared investement in destroying Kusuo. (Possibly, working together?)

Kusuke is canonically immune to Kokomi, so he wouldn't immediately fall for Makoto's charms. Would he later if he developed a relationship with Makoto?

Makoto is very easily provoked and Kusuke loves messing with people. Makoto would be VERY easy to get a reaction out of, without much of a consequence.

Kusuke wouldn't care for Makoto, given that he acts more imprudent and predictable than most. But it gives possibility create depth within Makoto, if he defies those expectations.

Within official sources, neither of them have genuine interactions outside of their family. Given we don't know how they would act either, you could make them as toxic or wholesome when they finally develop a relationship outside of their obsessive interest.

Both of them are very obsessed in their relationships, so it's possibly just redirects their obsession to each other (which solves the big problem with Makoto and Kusuke, fantastic), or just somehow cancels it out completely. Can also make exceedingly toxic or wholesome.

Kusuke is a famous scientist and Makoto is a famous actor, which creates fun scenarios depending on how public their relationship is. Also makes them very powerful people, which is fun to mess with.

Further development (personal headcanons...)

These are all wholesome lmao

Makoto finally meeting someone else who doesn't treat him like an untouchable idol who is immune to consequences. Kusuke meeting someone else who doesn't treat him like an unfeeling genius devoid of needing care.

Makoto falling fast because he's prone to falling for anyone who'll give him the time of day. Kusuke falling almost just as fast but being in denial.

Also Makoto caring over Kusuke just as much as he is to his sister, but he doesn't want to admit it. Kusuke loving Makoto back just as fervently as his parents love each other, but he'll die before he shows it.

Makoto's arrogance taking a step back the longer he is with Kusuke, and finally forced be more self-aware or Kusuke will catch him out for it.

Being an actor, Makoto canonically can catch people spying on him, but what if it extended to being good at reading people too. Makoto can tell when Kusuke is being fake vs genuine.

Kusuke seeing himself as beyond human emotion, suddenly given the possibly of feeling something more for someone. Also, he would be very afraid of being second place in his lover's eyes to another person, just like he was second place in his family (especially given Makoto's obsession...)

Makoto who has been straight his entire life, suddenly feeling... for a man. One that isn't perfect beautiful amazing stunning greatest person alive? Maybe, Makoto would have to decide between a perfect fantasy or a love in reality.

They're wholesome and they learn to love eachother and themselves but also if Kusuke told Makoto he's going to set a blow up a house Makoto doesn't reallllyy have the heart to stop him anymore.

What about in Kusuo and Kokomi's case

One thing I really like about this ship is how much it would fit into canon if you slipped it in. Saiki K is filled with love tropes, but one dynamic I'm surprised wasn't gone for (probably because it would take up too much time) was a proper developing relationship. All the wacky things that can be seen through the honey moon phase and so on. Now imagine the chaos it would be if it was Makokuu...

No matter how, Kusuo would be horrified if Kusuke and Makoto got together. It's two of some of the worst people in his life, now paired together, it would be disastrous.

Would Kusuo hear Makoto's mind? If so, it's probably worse for him.

Kokomi would be equally horrified, although it solves the problem of his brother being weirdly obsessed with her, so maybe she's not that upset.

Kusuo and Kokomi can bond over how terrifying this relationship is to witness in general.

Makoto and Kusuke forced to speak to the siblings with some respect, and actually realise they're not as unworthy as they imagined. Kusuo and Kokomi are forced to be their safety net whenever they end up fighting with each other or setting the neighborhood on fire.

Official Sources

Sorry gang, there's only two official sources situations where Makoto and Kusuke 'interact.' Neither of these can really be considered 'canon', but they're pretty much nothing burgers of content anyways. But hey, they're there.

(A bonus image at the end of ch268)

An off-screen interaction in the 3ds game where Makoto vaguely mentions working with a scientist (that Kusuo recognizes as his brother.)

Yay you read it

I am surprised if you read this far but if you have and enjoy Makokuu you might notice that some of my headcanons are mildly familiar. I can't really end off a makokuu post without mentioning everyone's favorite fic - I'll Be Yours and You'll Be Mine. As a warning it is pretty explicit, but it's interesting how the fic explores their dynamic.

Okay thank you for reading i hope as a community we can write more Makokuu fics yipeeei

[lets-try-some-writing]

Whims of the Fae

Fae walk among the people of Cybertron. They are so few in number that often their actions become mere tales, lost to rumor. But their presence is undeniable to those who know the signs, and in recent cycles, they have begun to gather. Optronix didn't care about the strange stories and the concerns of potential war. He was just a dock worker. What did it matter to him?

That was what he thought until one Head Archivist found himself "lost" in Optronix's place of work. It was only polite to help the poor mech out...

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

“You need to be careful! Don’t want the fair folk stealing you away!” Dion smacked him on the back fondly and chugged his ration like it was the last he would ever consume. Optronix grimaced and held his ration calmly. Dion always lived every cycle like it was his last, which considering their station, it very well could have been. Low caste mecha generally didn’t make it past thirty vorns before they gave out or were offlined in some accident.

“The fair folk are just stories. You know that, Dion.” Optronix muttered as he watched the area around him warily. There was something… off. He couldn’t place it exactly, but the very air seemed unsettled, distorted in a sense. Maybe it was the fumes from the ships coming in and out of the docks getting to him. 

“Sure! But you are still too nice for your own good! At this rate, some mech is going to scam you for all you are worth and leave you dead in a ditch.” Dion gave him a slightly more serious look, but he promptly stood and stretched, an alarm on his arm blaring. 

“Take care of yourself, buddy. I’ve got another shift.” Dion’s back gave a worrying crack and Optronix frowned as his elder friend winced. Dion was only twenty vorns old, but he was already showing wear and tear worthy of mecha deep into their fifth millennia of life. It concerned him, but there was little he could do aside from help in minor ways. Getting a medic cost an arm and a leg down on the docks. The most they could afford were the back alley scrappers who knew about anatomy from picking mecha apart for the organ trade in the red light district.

Optronix shuddered as he considered that possibility. No mech in their right mind wanted to go anywhere near a scrapper unless they were literally bleeding to death. He frowned as he looked down at his leg where bolt scars remained from the singular time he’d been forced to go to a scrapper. He was lucky it was just his leg. Dion going for his back would end with him losing his spinal struts in an ‘accident’. 

He sighed as he broke from his thoughts and Optronix stood and gently pressed on the small of Dion’s back, snapping a component back into place and earning a relieved sigh in return. His friend stretched again, this time with far more flexibility as his spinal struts realigned. 

“Be careful Dion. I don’t want you offlining due to overexertion.” Optronix smiled, but it was strained. If Dion noticed, he didn’t say anything. Their kind were condemned to die, they knew it from the moment they were assigned their function and caste. Still, it hurt to acknowledge once it started to have an effect on reality. 

“I will. Make sure to actually drink your ration this time. Don’t give it out to some stranger again.” Dion waved as he walked off and Optronix held his energon cube with a sigh. He was done for the cycle, unlike his companion. Arriving extra early meant he got to go to his dingy hab at a reasonable time. Not that there was much to do at his hab aside from wallow of course, but it was nice to have the free time to just… exist. 

He tried to focus on that pleasant aspect of his routine as he began heading toward the exit of the docks. And yet despite his concern for Dion and the overall relief that came from being done with his regular hard labor, Optronix found himself on edge. The feeling of wrong was getting stronger, and no matter where he looked, everything seemed to be off. He tried to move faster, hoping to go to his hab and have the feeling fade. But before he could, an elegant and most certainly higher caste voice called out to him.

“Excuse me, I appear to have gotten quite turned around. Would you perhaps be willing to guide me to the train to upper Iacon?” Optronix whipped around far faster than he would have liked. His optics were wide and his finials perked in instinctual terror as he laid his gaze upon a smaller mech, not particularly shapely, but sturdy and his armor hugging him in appealing ways. His red and blue plating shone with all the luster of the newly forged and his face was without blemish, two perfectly innocent and yet eerily knowledgeable optics shining up at him.

Every part of his coding demanded he run, and yet Optronix found himself enraptured. It wasn’t natural, but this mech was… strange. His EM field was soothing and compelling in a sense. Optronix didn’t want to leave even as the mech stepped forward.

“Sure! I can get you there in no time Sir!” Optronix hastily replied, turning away from those optics that seemed to stare into his very spark. Quickly reviewing his memory, Optronix gestured for the mech to follow and began to walk. He looked over at the smaller bot periodically, but otherwise they continued in silence. He still held his energon cube, but as soon as they left the docks, he found his tanks churning in nausea. 

He didn’t want to waste it, but he wouldn’t be refueling anytime soon now. Everything felt too strange for him to even hope to keep any energon down. Looking over at his companion, Optronix found himself torn. The mech had come with him without question, and that was worrying. If Optronix were anyone else, the high caste mech would likely be taken into some dark alley and shredded for parts or otherwise mutilated. The fact that his companion opted to follow him so easily was off putting, and not in the way Optronix expected.

It stank of some sort of trap. There wasn’t a mech dumb enough to follow a random stranger so close to the red light district without either some form of potent protection or a scheme guaranteed to assure safety. 

“It isn’t much, but would you like some energon? I am sure it isn’t exactly what a mech of your station is used to, but it's something to keep you going. The trip to upper Iacon is a long one from what I hear.” He held out his ration to the smaller mech, hoping that it would perhaps calm his spark’s nervous spin. Usually being charitable eased him a degree, giving him a sense of purpose. However as the smaller mech watched him, observing him with a simple smile and accepting the cube, Optronix still felt nothing but protoform rattling uncertainty. 

He wanted to leave. He had to leave. And yet his frame would not let him. The mech just kept staring at him, and something told him that trying to run wouldn’t end well for him. The further they went, the more it felt as though Optronix were wading into a minefield. Every step was a gamble, and Optronix could feel his tanks churn with greater unease the closer they came to the train station.

“Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality.” The smaller mech smiled with denta just a bit too sharp to be normal as he accepted the cube and took a polite sip. Optronix walked faster. 

This was wrong. He couldn’t pinpoint why, but he needed to finish helping the mech and leave immediately. Whatever was going on behind the scenes was not meant for him.

“Uh, what’s your name by the way?” His vocalizer felt heavy, the glyphs slurring as he tried to speak. He could see the train station in the distance, and never more did he wish he could run. Still, he needed to be polite. He was probably just on edge. The mech he was walking with was likely lost and uncertain. He needed to put his paranoia away, keep it together, and save up to see a medic. Ariel told him about stories where mecha went mad from the fumes. 

“You may call me Head Archivist Pax. I ended up down here while searching for my Conjunx.” Optronix almost tripped over his own pedes. Maybe that’s why he was so unsettled. Such a high caste mech down in the lower levels… Optronix was asking to be wrapped up into something or killed in some political garbage. 

He bit his lower derma and tried to focus his attention on the growing shades that came from the light of the nearest star receding. Perhaps his fear was from the darkness, he’d never been fond of the dark after Gears vanished into the lower levels never to be seen again. That had to be his reason for being so shaky, it couldn’t have been the Head Archivist. For Primus’s sake, Pax had done exactly nothing and Optronix’s behavior was likely going to scare him.

Optronix tried to vent as he approached the station with his companion. There was no going back now.

“It is an honor to meet someone as high up on the chain as you Head Archivist. I hope you find your way home safely!” Optronix stepped into the train station, bowing slightly as he’d seen mecha do on TV as he waited for the Head Archivist to leave. Pax regarded him simply and smiled, his now empty energon cube calmly placed in the recycling.

“You have been very courteous. Might I have your information? I wish to reward you for your kindness.” Pax smiled, and Optronix felt the very air draw in tight around him like a cage as he straightened. Panic rose in his very base coding and before he could stop himself, he reached to extend a commlink invitation to offer his identification and stop the sheer terror sinking into his protoform..

“Of course! I would be honored-” Optronix lurched forward, his servos instinctually coming to grasp his helm as his processors pounded. His body ached in a way he couldn’t describe and his spark panged in loss. The air was heavy and laced with static, so much so that when Optronix had the will to try and stand upright again, he could only take one step back before he fell to his knees shaking.

“This is the one you have chosen? He seems fidgety.” Opronix found coolant gathering in his optics as primal fear settled into his fuel lines. A towering mech, one he distantly recognized as the Champion of Kaon, stood at Pax’s side. He seemed normal, but his presence was oppressive and Optronix was a klik away from purging what little fuel he had in tanks. Where Pax evidently made everything seem wrong on a fundamental level, this mech, Megatronus of Kaon… he made Optronix feel small, unwelcome, and like a thief on land he did not own.

“He is more than sufficient, my love. He has given me what I needed, and I know for a fact that he will perform perfectly in his role. His mind is strong, he is simply a little overwhelmed right now.” Pax dropped to a knee and promptly ran his digits along the edges of Optronix’s face. He wanted to recoil, but those optics stared so intently into him that he could feel them everywhere. Pax saw everything, all that he was and ever would be. There was no escape. 

“Bind him to you, beloved. He must be prepared for the gifts we are to give.” Optronix tried to move, but as Pax stood and he remained on his knees, he found he couldn’t. Megatronus towered over him, eclipsing any chance of escape as he uttered a simple phrase.

“May I have your oath of allegiance?” The gladiator’s presence destroyed everything else. The world was collapsing in on itself. Light warped and was eradicated by the unstoppable titan before him. The scenery shifted into an all encompassing void only filled with the presence of whatever in the pits Megatronus was. Impending doom settled in his spark, and all Optronix could do was shake.

There was no escape. He was lost in this void. His voice was nothing amidst the emptiness.

“You are exerting too much influence, my Champion. Look at him, he can’t even vent.” The sound of the train pulling into the station and Pax’s voice broke through the void. Color and form returned to reality, and Optronix collapsed entirely as he gasped, his fans spinning wildly as he found himself desperately trying to cool his heated frame. He shook like a sheet of tin in a storm as he stared up in horror as the beings before him.

They weren’t Cybertronian, they couldn't be. There was no way normal mecha could do whatever they had just done.

“Optronix, it would be in your best interest to give your oath. You may not survive what is to come otherwise.” Pax smiled at him with all the faux innocence of a scrapper gazing down at his prey. Optronix wanted to cry. Dion was right. He’d been too kind and now he’d gotten wrapped up into whatever this was.

His vocalizer felt like lead in his throat as Optronix weighed his options and enjoyed the brief reprieve from the oppressive force that was the Champion of the Pits. He still shook as he pulled himself to one knee, instinct guiding his actions as he spoke. It was as if another spoke on his behalf and gave him words he otherwise had no clue how to say.

“I give my loyalty to the Lord of the Court of Fae. My allegiance to the Court shall endure until death or I am released from my bonds. Forever shall I come when summoned.” His spark screamed as fire raged throughout his frame. Optronix could only manage a strangled cry as he collapsed again, a brand seemingly being burned into his very spark. 

“Very good. You’ve done well. Now, we must not miss our train. The night is young and there is much to be done.” Pax grinned, his smile growing far wider than it should have been capable of. Megatronus for his part huffed and dragged Optronix by the arm, planting him on his pedes as though he weighed nothing. 

“I call upon you who is bound to me. Answer my summons and follow me.” Megatronus’s words drowned out all else, and before Optronix could so much as scream, one direct goal quieted his will. He quickly found himself walking behind the duo at a brisk yet seemingly comfortable pace. His plating flared, his optics were wide, and his field pulsed erratically off and on. Yet no matter how much he willed himself to move, to run in any other direction… his frame failed to obey him. 

They entered the train and Optronix was quickly ordered to sit next to Megatronus on one of the many dilapidated seats. The trains in the lower levels were held together by tape and a prayer more often than not. However it seemed that fact did not bother the two beings beside him as the train rolled out of the station. They sat comfortably, and it seemed as though the train itself molded to their preferences. It shouldn’t have been possible, but colors ran along the walls where they shouldn’t have been. Metal warped and shone before returning to its usual state. The windows showed the outside one moment, and a horrifying void the next.

He looked firmly at his pedes, desperate to keep himself calm as he ran through the situation in his mind.

These were fair folk. There was no other explanation. The fair folk were the only ones capable of stealing intangible things and altering reality like it was dough. There were all sorts of stories around the docks about them. Always third party retellings and things heard in passing. Still, as the train chugged along and the ground shifted colors, Optronix searched his memory for anything of use.

“He’s done nothing but stare at the ground. Are you sure he was a good pick? He can’t be strong enough for what we need him to accomplish.” Megatronus spoke with disdain evident in his voice. Optronix stole a brief glance up at the fairy in momentary anger, but he quickly found himself regretting that choice.

The mech, or rather the fairy, was no longer as he looked prior to entering the train. He hadn’t changed much physically, but he seemed larger, darker, his plating sharper and his optics so much more intense. It made Optronix’s tanks churn even harder than they already were. It was enough for shooting pain to assault his insides and remind him of a possible escape. 

Dion said once that fairies couldn’t enter homes. As dock workers, they didn’t really have that. More often than not, home was wherever a mech happened to be at the time. If Optronix could possibly find a way to separate himself and his space from the fair folk, he could possibly claim it as his. Sure, it was a limited and very short term solution, but it was better than whatever the fair folk had planned. He’d heard more than enough stories about mecha being devoured and returning to docks altered, strange, and misshapen. 

“He is perfect for the role I will delegate to him. He carries the correct bloodline and his CNA mimics my own. He merely requires cultivation.” Orion’s silky voice filled the train in a way that shouldn't have been possible, almost as though it were coming from everywhere at once. He didn’t want to look, he couldn’t afford to look as he raised a servo to his intake and bit down, silencing a groan of pain as the fair folk conversed.

“Are you trying to become Ratchet now? Only his kind cultivate the prototypes.” Energon welled from the damaged plating of his left servo. Optronix kept his optics firmly on the comforting glow. It was the only thing on the train that wasn’t changing aside from himself. It was grounding, it was… a warding agent.

“Nonsense my dear Champion. The lower beings do not require or deserve my direct attention. This one is a unique case.” As quietly as he could, Optronix began to drag his digit along the outline of his frame. The energon from the wound was thick and created a firm line cutting him off from the terrifying creature sitting mere feet away.  Just a few more lines, just a few more…

“You say that, but with how many schemes you’ve been developing, it would not surprise me if you brought more of the prototypes into our domain within the vorn.” His frame ached and his servo screamed as he raised it to his intake and bit again, forcing more energon to flow from the deeper wound. He reached toward the ground, acting as though he were attempting to curl up in fear as he dragged his damaged digit along the grimy ground. His vocalizer burned as grime entered the wound, but he paid it no mind.

The fair folk would not have him.

“T-This is my domain, created in my energon and filled by my presence. I order the fair folk away. They shall not enter.” He found strength as he sat up, his optics cycling in uncertainty as he uttered the familiar phrase. The train fell silent, and for a brief moment, Optronix wanted to have hope. Maybe they would leave. Maybe he could find someone to break their bindings and he could go back to living a normal life-

“How very adorable. He thinks we are of the lesser Courts.” Icy terror filled his fuel lines and Optronix gripped his knees so tightly that he drew more energon from his injured servo. No, it had to have worked, it had to have worked. This couldn’t be possible.

“Foolish little prototype. You already belong to us.” Those same servos came to run along the edges of his face, forcing him to look up. Optronix wished he could die right then and there as a mass of limbs and optics met him. That smile breached the confines of the face that held it and still Pax’s voice rang out clear and composed. Not a sound was uttered as the fairy pulled away, its form shifting back into what Optronix knew before it sat back down.

“At least he made an attempt.” Megatronus huffed, only serving to turn fear into rage. He was no sparkling, he was a grown mech and a citizen of Cybertron. If he was to die, he would do so on his own terms and with honor.

“My love.” Pax’s voice came out in a low trill as Optronix made a rash decision. The trains were torn half to pieces, metal jutted out from just about everywhere, and there was a more than acceptable metal pipe clinging to the wall of the train by a single screw. He broke it free without hesitation and swung with all the strength in his frame-

-Only for the pipe to phase straight through Megatronus without so much as scratching him.

“He has some spine after all! Look at that! A prototype trying to fight against and Archfae! Starscream will find this amusing.” Megatronus laughed, a deep and dark chuckle that had Optronix crying before he knew it. Coolant gathered in his optics and despair set in like the plague as he came to a sickening realization.

There was no escape. These things had control over reality, and he had fallen into their web the moment he agreed to walk Pax to the train station.

“I told you he was the correct choice. When will you stop doubting me when it comes to these things?” Pax laughed as well, a light comfortable sound that would have soothed any other mech as the train at last came to a stop. Optronix didn’t even try to fight as he was ordered to follow behind the fair folk that had bought his spark without him knowing.

Night covered the world in a deep gloom, but it did little to lessen the terror that reawakened as the Hall of Records came into view. It was a place of great knowledge, but the elder dock workers always said that knowledge came at a price. The news always had at least one missing person to report in the archives every other vorn at minimum. 

It made sense now. If the fair folk were taking him there, it meant that quite likely, other unfortunate sparks like himself had met their ends there too. 

Dion was right. Why couldn’t he have just been an aft and told Pax to shove off?

“Sire, I request that my guest be granted access to your domain.” Pax stepped inside the building and the lights flickered. A deep rumbling groan came from the very walls and Optronix wished for nothing more than to flee as Megatronus ordered him to enter behind him. He complied even as wires slipped through cracks in the very ground, caressing Pax’s legs and raising threateningly for Megatronus and Optronix.

“Alpha Trion, as your ordained heir and as an Archfae, you will grant my guest and my Conjunx access to your domain. Megatronus is an extension of myself, and soon my guest shall be too. Cease this waste of time.” Pax shifted again and Optronix looked away while doing his best to refrain from crying as the wires pulled away, retreating back into their hiding places. 

So the fair folk had family drama too. Dark amusement, likely edging on insanity, threatened to emerge in the form of a laugh as Optronix followed his fair folk masters deeper into the nightmarish structure. After the train, the archives weren’t quite so bad. The walls shifted, bookshelves moved around, and the lights forever flickered and increased and decreased in brightness. At least there wasn’t a void to devour all hope right outside the window. 

“Drink this.” He was jolted from his thoughts as he was forced to a stop in an open location. The bookshelves had been left behind several kliks ago, and now all that remained was an oval room with a table and a pool of what looked to be energon in the center. He was going to be eaten wasn’t he? Why else would there be what looked like an examination table right next to a pool of energon. His imagination provided him with a plethora of grotesque images of him being drained or possibly picked to pieces as a cube of an undeniable origin was pressed into his servos. 

It looked like energon, but he didn’t have time to question as the fair folk stared him down until he got every last drop of it into his tanks. It seemed like energon too based on the taste, but it left him feeling tingly and his systems bursting with energy it really shouldn’t have had. Maybe high caste energon just did stuff like that.

“Get into the pool.” The order came quickly, and Optronix complied. Not that he had much choice in the matter.

“Stay put.” The second order was more of an afterthought it seemed. As Optronix lowered himself into the pool of energon, he felt strangely at ease. His cables relaxed, his mind started to slow, and pains he didn’t even know he had all melted away in less than a klik. Before he knew it, he had dropped flat onto his back, all thoughts of escape vanquished. If he died this comfortably, he couldn’t exactly complain. It was better than a slow torturous death, that much was certain. 

“Don’t be stingy. Give me your arm! I need as much energon as I can get!” Pax’s voice distantly filtered through the hum that settled into Optronix’s processors. He didn’t seem upset but rather annoyed. Optronix for his part didn’t bother to linger on the thought as he gazed up at the ceiling, watching wires descend and scoop up a mech from a balcony a ways off. The mech screamed as they were dragged into the walls which closed with a sickening crunch.

It explained a lot of missing person reports.

“No, keep it steady. If the composition is off, the procedure could fail in spectacular fashion.” There was Pax saying something again. Optronix wanted to sigh. Could he not be quiet? It was so peaceful…

“He’s drugged out of his mind.” Megatronus laughed and stepped closer, his Conjunx right at his side. Optronix hummed but did not move as Pax entered the pool and stared down at him with a wide smile that would have otherwise had Optronix fearing for his life. 

“Good. He won’t feel the CNA override.” That sounded vaguely concerning.

“Optronix, don’t you worry sweet thing. When you wake up again, you will be born anew. Your name has already been selected.” There was a hint of feral glee in the Head Archivist’s tone. Optronix didn’t even have the strength to hum as recharge hung heavy on his mind. He wanted to rest.

“Drink up. That’s right, just like that.” A vial of something was pressed to his intake, and with some coaxing, the foul tasting concoction made its way to his tanks. He gagged as his frame began to go numb, but he wasn’t concerned.

“When will he be ready to be trained?” Megatronus questioned calmly as he gazed down at where Optronix suddenly found himself paralyzed in the pool. He couldn’t feel anything, and yet he wasn’t afraid. By Primus, some of his fellows would give an arm and a leg for whatever drug he was high on. 

“Not for quite some time. He needs to grow first.” Grow? He was fully grown.

“What? Shouldn’t he be ready within a few deca-cycles? His frame is fully developed, surely it can’t take that long to heal-” Megatronus trailed off as Optronix lifted his servo, watching in grim fascination as plating turned to goo and fell off his very protoform. He hardly had the strength to do even that as he fought against the calm that overcame him. And just as quickly as he raised his servo, it fell back down with a wet plop.

He didn’t need to look to sense that the rest of his body was falling apart. His optics were starting to flicker…

“It has begun. Soon we will have our little sprite.” The last thing Optronix saw was Pax’s smile which, for once, was gentle and kind.

Then the darkness claimed him, and he knew no more.