#SO MANY PLOT HOLES AND LOOSE THREADS

[soullessjack]

live footage of me begging convincing Steve Yockey Andrew Dabb Bobo Berens and whichever half of Buckleming is the better writer that they should absolutely keep going with their special little guy in the prequel and perhaps even beyond it if they feel so inclined

[kashimos-hajime]

—dissolve | fushiguro toji

summary: he tosses the pregnancy test aside, digs into his pocket, rips out his wallet, and flips it open, fishing out the few bills he has and sticking his hand out towards you.

“take the money and get rid of it.”

WARNINGS: pregnancy, angst, violence, mentions of sex work, emotional constipation and rep of ptsd pairing: fushiguro toji x fem!reader word count: 18.5k

a/n: came back from the dead to post this. i swear TO GOD!!! that this is not a pregnancy fic. in fact, it's arguably worse because it's a plot point instead. excuse any editing mistakes.

obligatory toji might be ooc warning, but we literally have never seen him act normal outside of his job so i make due w what i got.

inspired by dissolve by joji

on ao3 woohoo

(exposition)

Toji’s made a fair few mistakes in his life. It’s hard to count on his fingers alone how many he’s made, but this has to be on the top of the fucking list.

“What do you want me to do with this information?” he spits as he pulls his pants on past his waist. His skin is burning, flushed red from the haze of sex, or maybe it’s the scoring of your nails down his back. His chest feels like it’s stinging. 

You’re standing before him, raw power, untapped fury. You’re an unpredictability he has never encountered—you drive him crazy. 

You’re also an avid, self-proclaimed misanthrope (ironic, given your profession, and more than a lie, given that Toji knows you), so the fact that he’s still standing here and you haven’t flung a bottle at him once during this whole charade they’ve got going on is admirable.

You don’t look at him, but there’s slick dripping down your thigh, and he’s honestly surprised you’re standing so soon after he’s made a permanent indent into the bed in the shape of your body, but then again, he’s known you for a while now. You’ve always been stubborn, proud, and never want to be seen waiting on anything, so while he’s standing there, staring apathetically at your back, you busy yourself with straightening out bed.

Red neon lights. Men, women, people, all roaming halls, hidden behind purple gauze and thick smoke.

They said the one he’d paid for would be the last one on the left.

Shit, he’s sweating like crazy.

“I don’t know,” you say, tossing the stick behind you without looking. He catches it easily, and stares at the tiny plus sign before looking back at you. You’re rubbing your face with the heel of your hand, and when you turn your head, he sees the frustration etched onto your face. “I don’t know what you can do.”

Toji pulls the door aside, and the figure on the bed looks up, painted lips parting in surprise. He beats you to the punch. “You’re the doctor.”

“You’re the fucked up guy from the clinic.”

And, because Toji has faced real commitment once and lost it just as quickly, he does the one thing he knows best.

He tosses the pregnancy test aside, digs into his pocket, rips out his wallet, and flips it open, fishing out the few bills he has and sticking his hand out towards you.

“Take the money and get rid of it,” he says, but it edges more on an order. You slant your body, frustration dissolving into disbelief at his offer, and your eyes flutter from his hands to his face before your eyebrows furrow together. Your mouth drops open and snaps shut just as quickly, then you’re bending over to gather the closest thing you have to cover yourself. 

You shimmy into a shirt you’ve stolen from him, the one with the worn hole at the back of the neck, and threads coming loose at the sleeves.

Just another mistake he’s made letting you steal from him.

“You don’t get to fuck a kid into me only to tell me to get rid of it, Toji.” You straighten up, and walk up to his proffered hand. Snatching the bills, you smash them into his chest, your palm hitting him square in the sternum. His lungs hitch, but you walk past him to the kitchen and he’s left to watch the bills flutter to the ground. 

Turning around, Toji walks after you, ignoring his hard-earned money smearing the floor. It’s the last thing on his mind, nestled somewhere at the bottom with sex and affection.

Your presence, mellow and tired and unsure, mirrors him. 

It’s probably the realest thing Toji has right now.

“Do you want tea?” you ask without turning around to make sure he’s followed because you know he has, setting the kettle on the stove with a bit less finesse than normal.

“It’s three AM.”

“I didn’t know my question was made redundant,” you snap, and Toji wants to throw a book at your head, so he settles on scowling and grabbing a mug that’s designated as his and sets it on the counter, sliding it over to you. You stop it before it can crash and when they’re pouring over their cups of chamomile in the dead of night, on opposite sides of the kitchen island and illuminated by the single lamp turned on overhead, Toji thinks of you as a mother, carrying a child on your shoulders.

The image comes to him at an uncomfortably quick pace, and he checks his phone. He has a contract, and race bets to make, and he looks at you again. You’re already watching him, mouth hidden behind a mug with a dog painted on the side.

“Megumi is coming over,” he grunts, setting his phone back down on the counter and lifting his mug.

“And if I’m busy?” you ask, because it’s routine that you say it whenever he decides to leave his son in your hands. And they need routine. They need this charade to avoid the storm growing above their heads.

“I’m dumping him on your doorstep,” he answers, “and I’m leaving.”

.

You don’t text him while he’s out on the job, not even your usual restrained good luck.

It’s three days before he comes back, and when he lets himself in with the spare key you keep behind the loose ninth brick on the right of your door, in the fifth row off the ground, you don’t bring it up.

Mostly because Megumi is fast asleep under your arm, and you’re asleep with him, curled around the two-and-a-half year old baby like he’s the one thing you have to protect with your life. Toji doesn’t wake you, but he does remove your arm to pick up his little boy and Megumi knows his father better than anyone. The tiny bundle immediately tries to make fists at Toji’s shirt, and lets out an incoherent whine at being disturbed before burying his chubby little face into his father’s chest.

You shift in your sleep, muttering nonsense. You’re sweating, the back of your shirt soaked when Toji leans over to look. There isn’t anything on the nearby low table except for paracetamol, a barely-finished bowl of okayu, countless tissues and a thermometer. The apartment is mostly a mess, with dirty dishes in the sink, and ingredients left on the countertops.

Toji can still hold his son with one hand, so he uses his free hand to touch the baby’s forehead to find it slightly warm, and then, because he has nothing better to do, he crouches beside you on the couch, and touches your brow, too. Your face is shining with more sweat, and there’s a feverish twitch in your face when his fingertips meet your skin. You let out a soft snorting noise, and he grins blandly.

“You’re pregnant, huh,” he mutters, mostly to himself. Your eyes flutter open, and find his with a tired precision, before you let them shut again. “Hey.” You turn your face into the couch, and let out a crackled moan.

“Your son is sick,” you tell him instead, voice muffled by the couch. “He has the fucking flu.”

“His fever broke,” answers Toji. “Get up and shower.”

“I can’t. My body molded to the couch.” Your voice is thin with fire, hoarse with exhaustion. You’re a burnt out candle still smouldering, and when he touches your simmering cheek, you hiss, slapping his hand and grabbing the nearest cushion, burying your head beneath it. “Stop it. Just take your son and leave me the fuck alone.”

“Shower,” he barks. 

“Go fuck yourself,” you reply with the same burning annoyance.

Megumi yawns, ignorant of it all.

.

You work at a clinic, but call in sick for the next two weeks. Toji knows because he walks past the clinic sometimes on habit on his way back home, depending on the hour. You go on your smoke break at the same time if you can help it, and he’d catch you in an alleyway two blocks down because no one wants to see that their doctor smokes. There’d be a Mild Seven dangling from your mouth, and you’d eye him with an arched eyebrow, but you never questioned his appearance.

Sometimes, he walks you back even though you never ask him to, a new-burning cigarette slung from his lips, and he complains about your shitty taste in cigarette brands.

And you will always ask why he always takes the Mild Seven you offer, and he dismisses it with a shrug, some flimsy excuse of never biting the hand that feeds you.

Toji’s accustomed to stalling coming back just so he can walk past the clinic on his way home, or sometimes, he leaves the apartment with an excuse of groceries for Megumi just in case you’re there, doctor’s coat shed and a ratty hoodie pulled over your frame to hide the scrubs you don’t bother to change out of.

You aren’t smoking on your break when he finds you on one such ‘grocery trip’, but you’re still in the same alleyway.

“Toji,” you say before he’s even fully appeared at the lip of the alley, and you look up, pulling the hood away from your face. You look awful—swollen eye bags, peeling lips. There’s barely any life to your face, and you regard him wearily, something clicking in your hand. Upon closer inspection, it’s your lighter, and your thumb flicking it open and shut.

“What’s wrong with you?” He walks closer, but doesn’t lean on the wall. You look like you’ll lash out if he even so much as breathes in your direction. A rat skitters by his foot. “Don’t tell me it’s that fucking flu and you’re still contagious.”

“I’m pregnant,” you answer dryly. “And I have a nicotine addiction.”

“Smoke a cigarette,” he suggests, moving a hand to his pocket.

“I’m keeping the baby,” you reply. He pauses, blinks, and you only lift your chin at him, folding your hands behind you against the wall. Stretching your legs farther out over the concrete, you sink a few inches down. “So, I can’t smoke.”

“You’re keeping it?” Clenching his jaw, he scowls. “If this is to spite me—“

“Do you think I’m a fucking idiot? I don’t use human lives as playing cards.” Tilting your head back against the wall, you close your eyes. “Or human lives-to-be.”

“So, why the fuck—“

Your head jerks up. “Because I want this kid, okay? Is that so hard to fucking understand?”

“Maybe.” He shoves his hands into his pockets before laughing. “You’re barely a functioning person. What makes you think you’re fit to be a parent?”

“Like you’re the perfect father for Megumi,” you retort dryly. “I don’t have to justify my choices to you, and I don’t care if you’re in your child’s life. For all you care, this isn’t your child.”

Defensively: “But it is.”

“It doesn’t have to be. I’m giving you a way out,” you dismiss aloofly, pushing off the wall and straightening up. Meeting his gaze, you square your shoulders to his, and cross your arms over your chest. “I’m just that bitch you fuck when you’re bored, and you dump your son on me whenever you feel like it. You walk all over me, and I let you. At least you used to pay me for my services.” Toji’s blood begins to burn at the utter disgust and disappointment in your expression. “Do you think I don’t know what I am to you?”

And for a brief moment, Toji is speechless. Not because you’ve shocked him into silence, because he isn’t shocked, but because he genuinely doesn’t know what to say next. Every possible answer he has is shot down by rationale, and you search his face for any sort of response.

You find none.

Another mistake he’s made in his life is tallied down in some imaginary record when he runs out of time.

With a scoff, you shove past him, and disappear around the corner.

He doesn’t chase after you. 

Toji’s just not that kind of guy.

Instead, he takes the newly-purchased box of Mild Sevens from his pocket, flips it open to retrieve a fresh cig, and lights it, cupping the end and inhaling as deeply as he can. 

Pinching the cigarette between two fingers, he leans to the side in that alleyway and spits out a wad of saliva, the taste of the cigarette even sharper than normal.

“God, it tastes like shit,” he sighs to no one before inhaling again.

.

Toji’s kinda sorta fucked up.

He knows that doesn’t escape your notice. It’s how they first met after all—him a nineteen year old lumbering mess of blood and bruises, walking into the clinic mere minutes before your shift ended. You’d just been an intern taking the graveyard shift, and he’d pushed in, chin lifted high, eyes narrowed, finding yours.

“You the doctor?”

How did it spiral into this?

You snip the final suture shut on his shoulder and set the tools down, carefully piling the packaging together.

“Get outta here,” you tell him, slapping his shoulder to urge him off. You turn, disposing the trash, ripping off your gloves in the process.

“How’s the kid?”

“Megumi’s fine. He likes avocados now since I gave him slices with condensed milk on them,” you reply shortly. “Can you leave now?”

“I meant the baby,” he informs brusquely.

If it surprises you, you don’t let it show. “That is none of your business. Leave me alone.”

When he doesn’t budge, you stand there for a moment until he turns to look at you. In your scrubs, face clear but weighed down by exhaustion, you remind him of an exasperated cat owner. Hands on your hips, you worry your bottom lip until you realize he isn’t going anywhere he doesn’t want to and you sigh, gesturing for him to move over on the examination bench. Wedging yourself beside him, you grab onto the lip of the cushion and lean forward, shoulders hunching, head bowed. 

“What do you want to know?” you ask acridly. “I crave sriracha on everything, I puke, I feel exhausted, I want to smoke all the time, and I cry pretty much every night.”

Blinking, Toji opens his mouth to say something witty. He only barely manages out a quiet: “You don’t even like sriracha.”

“I know.” Miserably, you lift your head and let out a sigh that seems to take all the strength with you. “What do you want from me, Toji?”

“I was just asking how you were doing.”

“You never do that unless you want something,” you counter, looking at him. Your eyes are swollen, but Toji doesn’t know if it’s from crying or some other reason, and you smell like three day old clothes. Your gaze searches his, then flutters to a slightly crooked nose, to his lips, to the scars littering his chest. “I’ve known you for years. You disappeared on me, and you came back with a son and a new name, and I never asked questions, but you had to have known.”

“Known what?”

You don’t answer him. Toji isn’t sure if he’s grateful or irritated for it. “What happened to you, you idiot?” Your tone is somber, unbearably faint. It makes your words that much more nauseating. “Why did you come back to me?” He blinks, staring, and your gaze lowers. You quietly tag something to the end of your sentence only to yourself and he is punched by every syllable of the word you utter, every syllable you aren’t aware he can hear.

“Fushi-guro, huh.”

Sliding off the examination table, you smooth out your scrubs and make to leave. “Never mind. I think I’m just exhausted.” 

You reach the door handle. He watches. Footsteps softened by the sound of your crocs, you don’t bother to hide the effects of him keeping you overtime at three AM in the morning, because he’s bleeding and soiled and disgusting, has done to your spirit.

“I got married,” he calls, halting you by the door. Your shoulders have fallen, and your hand on the door goes limp. Toji stares at your back, and wonders when he became so intimately aware of the slope of your shoulders and how they sink even more in defeat when you understand what he’s saying. “She died when Megumi was… nine months old? I dunno. Blood disease, some shit like that.”

Your head turns enough that he can see a sliver of your face—you look pretty in the dim lights of the exam room. All soft edges, sad melted honey at the bottom of cold tea. Forgotten, distasteful. Like you can hold him carefully, and none of the jagged pieces he’s made of will slice your palms open. You look so much younger. 

Like the nineteen year old you were when he came to you in that room of purple silk and candlelight. So tender. Human. It’s been nearly ten years since then, and it feels so much longer.

“I’m so sorry,” you tell him, and he knows you mean it.

You leave to change, and come back to find him waiting in the receptionist area, a shadow in the pitch black as you set the security alarm before you go.

“Get out,” you tell him again, and this time, he complies and waits for you in the chilly night instead.

Toji walks you home, despite your unvoiced protest, and he pretends he doesn’t notice that his hand brushes against yours until their index fingers are hooked onto one another. Your gaze flits to him every once in a while, but he merely rakes his other hand through his hair, lips puckered around a smoke before he’s sliding that trembling hand of yours into his pocket.

“Megumi’s still asleep,” you tell him at the door. He leans over without meaning to as he watches your hands fiddle with the lock and key. Turning over your shoulder, you catch him staring, and arch an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing.” And he looks away.

You open the door and walk in, turning back when he doesn’t follow. Scowling, you swing your door open wider as you toe off your sneakers. “Are you coming in or not?”

He frowns. “Yeah, sure.”

Tonight, Toji’s not in the mood for sex, and you can barely stand on your two feet without swaying, so while you go to shower, he heads for the guest room that’s been changed into a makeshift bedroom for a two-year old boy who’s fast asleep, his snores filling up the room when Toji pushes in, careful to not let too much light seep in. 

Sneaking across to the crib, he reaches within to pick up his son, and Megumi, never the fussy child, only lets out a little noise of complaint before falling back asleep on Toji’s shoulder. He pats Megumi’s back, pacing around the room and gently bouncing him up and down into a deeper sleep. The walls are littered with terrible drawings Megumi’s made, but they’re hung like art pieces in the Louvre, and Toji stands by the column of light the door lets in, watching the sharp shadows it carves.

Everything still, he waits for something to appear. 

Nothing.

 Sticking out a hand, he splits his fingers into a shadow puppet of a dog, and opens its jaws a few time in a silent bark.

He knows his son has the Technique. He’s seen the hints of it ever since Megumi turned two—shadows flickering when Megumi claps his hands together, the Cursed Energy Toji can sense radiating off of the kid. It won’t be long before some rat starts looking for the inheritor of the Ten Shadows Technique as their new prince.

He sighs. It’s just another thing from his shitshow family to worry about.

“I’ve got blankets and pillows on the couch,” you tell him by the door, and he drops his hand, heat rushing up his face as you poke your head in to see him. Although he can’t make out your expression too well, Toji knows he doesn’t imagine the way your eyes soften when you look at Megumi. “I’m going to go to bed now. See you in the morning. Maybe.”

He nods, and you slip out of the room just as quickly, your bedroom door shutting a moment later.

 He heads to the living room, shedding his jacket and collapsing on the couch with a tired groan. The only light is moonlight filtering through your vertical blinds. His shoulder still burns something fierce, the numbing gel wearing off, and he cups it, rolling onto his side. Through the bandages, he can feel the even stitches you’ve knitted into his flesh, the delicate accuracy of the thread and needle. 

Staring at the table, he blinks at the tablets resting on a napkin right in front of him beside a glass of water, and he sits up.

The pill bottle rests nearby, and he grabs it, eyeing the ingredients. It’s some over-the-counter pain killers, but there’s sharpie that’s covered a lot of the text. Screwing up his eyes, he makes out the first character, and, as his eyes adjust to the darkness, holds up the bottle to the faint moon so he can read the rest of it.

FOR MY HEARTACHES. DO NOT TOUCH.

Eyebrows scrunch. His eyes run it over it again to see if he’s being fucking crazy and reading into it too much.

He shoves the bottle back onto the table before he can do it one more time and grabs the pills, uncaring if the water spills as he gulps them down, shaking his head at the iciness that seeps into his blood from the water. 

Throwing himself back onto the couch, he punches the pillow into shape, and rolls onto his back, haphazardly tossing the blanket over himself and slamming his eyes shut in an effort to block out your neat, slanted writing.

“…I never asked questions, but you had to have known.”

The pain in his shoulder dulls, but there is nothing that can douse the cold fire of his own hatred.

.

“For your heartache?” he asks the morning after like it’s a talk one should have over the coffee he holds in his hand. You’re making yourself oatmeal after spending the first hour or so throwing up. You look ragged, and you glare at him for even speaking. 

Toji sets the pill bottle down, and he watches your expression carefully. Your jaw clenches, and you roll your eyes, stirring honey into your hot breakfast.

“Painkillers that work best for heartburn,” you tell him flatly, snatching the pill bottle and returning it to where it normally rests. “I got this at like two AM a few weeks ago. Why, what’s wrong with it?”

Your heart skips. He ignores the slowly speeding rhythm of your heart echoing in his own chest. “Just never pegged you for the poetic type.”

“Oh, because you peg me for so many other things. Please get your head out of your ass.”

The tension that melts out of his body is profuse, and his shoulders fall as Megumi, with his spoon, flicks cereal at his father with a giggle. And although the relief is overwhelming, there is a peculiar sinking feeling that far outweighs any positive connotation in the fact that he thought you could’ve liked him and your confirmation that you don’t.

He’s insane. 

He’s insane to have thought you could have possibly…

“You’re cleaning this up,” you order. “I need to go to work and I can’t be late. We’ll… talk later. I guess.”

…ever had feelings for him.

Toji goes to fetch some towels and ignores the fact that his insides feel like rotting. What’s it matter anyway?

Except…

No. He’s not thinking of back then. That’s a section of his past he wants to keep sealed in the past, and thats final.

.

His son wants to go to the park one day. It’s how Toji finds himself sitting on a park bench, sipping on his iced lemonade, his son on his thigh watching everyone around them, his tiny hands planted on his father’s knee. Said father scrolls on his phone, reading his emails through his shades, but he always makes sure to kepe an eye out on their surroundings.

Opening up some bets, he leans back, settling his free hand on Megumi’s hip and raising his phone up as he looks through the races. 

“I want,” Megumi babbles.

“What do you want, ‘Gumi?” he asks, squinting against the sun. He should be getting results back for his last gamble in just a few minutes.

“I want dog.”

“Yeah?” Toji says as he lowers his phone and looks around them. “You wanna big one? How many?” There are a few dogs playing in the park around them, catching balls their owners through (“Go fetch!”) and a strange bitterness arises from him. He’s never been a dog person. Not with how he was raised to see them. 

Loyal beasts with no brain of their own. 

“Two!”

Meant to serve.

“Go fetch, dog. ”

Mindless.

“Papa.”

“And you dare call yourself my son?” 

“Papa.”

His phone buzzes, and he answers it like a habit. A swipe of his thumb. Behind his eyes flash a thousand purple bruises, and his scar aches like a sore on his lip as he lets out a tired breath.

“You were a mistake. You should’ve never been born.”

His world is so strangely silent. A curious, spreading emptiness seeps down the column of his throat and into his chest, inhabiting the giant space like a cloud of smoke as the line clicks, and he blinks at the sky. How many days had he stared at this sky, waiting for his world to grow infinitely bigger?

To escape that wretched place once and for all. He had the gall to do it, and the pit of curses had been colder than death.

If he could’ve just—

“Toji?” 

—given up.

“Hey.”

Your voice pierces the haze and he blinks, looking around. Megumi is clutching onto hs shirt with a tight fist, peering at him with frustration, and he uses his other hand to smack his dad in the chest. 

“You there?”

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. He sets a hand on Megumi’s head. His hair is so soft, and warm under the sun, and Toji wants to wrap his entire body around his tiny little boy, so he does the next best thing and hauls Megumi up onto his chest and swathes him with an arm. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Nah. Why would you think that?”

“I dunno. You just sound off.”

“I’m fine. Can’t I enjoy a nice day in the park?” he remarks dryly, and you huff a snide, sarcastic laugh. 

“I guess you can. I was just wondering if you had plans in September.”

“That’s still a few weeks away.” He can hear your judgemental expression from where he sits so he adds, “No. Not yet. Why?”

“The Kichijoji Autumn Festival. I want to take Megumi.” You seem to speak to someone on the other end, and Toji looks down at his son who’s craned his head to examine everything around him. He wriggles until he’s facing forward, and Toji kisses the back of his son’s head grumpily. The idea of a big crowd never sits well with him. There are too many unseen variables, and too much noise.

“Doggy,” Megumi rambles, pointing out a stubby finger at a bounding labrador, trying to catch a frisbee with a massive leap and snagging it in its jaws.

“Is that okay?”

“What? Yeah. I’m going with you, though.”

“Fine. Yeah, alright! I’ll print it!” you shout away from the phone. With a tired sigh, you return. “Fucking idiot. Sorry. Work.” He shrugs, then says it’s fine, and you continue: “Are you going to be working a lot? I’m heading down to Osaka next week so I can’t take care of Megumi if you’re working.”

“Why?”

“Because… remember Hajime?”

“Skinny fuck with a big mouth. Talked too much.” A tall, lean guy who used to fuck with Toji as a teenager whenever he came to see you. He vaguely has an image of him in his head—cheeky smile, quick gaze, and an arrogance that was all a charade. The kid always knew when to shut up but he never did.

Maybe because he didn’t care. Toji had never seen his own pit eyes reflected in another boy before then, but Hajime still knew how to look like he was happy. Maybe that’s why Toji always let the boy bother him even when he was working maintenance around the House. 

He doesn’t think Hajime has ever smiled a day in his life. So, just like him, Toji knows your spot for your old colleague from the brothel is softer than you let on. 

“He’s not doing well,” you reveal. “I just want to be there when he passes and make it all easier for him. That’s all.”

His throat goes dry. “I see.” The unspoken question passes between them.

“Lung cancer metastasized.” You don’t let that sit for long. “So, it’ll probably be a bit before I see Megumi next.”

Words bite his tongue, and he debates letting them loose. But he wouldn’t. He’d never admit to it. “Probably. He’ll be fine, though.”

“I know.” A beat. “I’m just gonna miss him, you know. I want to see him before I leave.”

“Yeah.” And because it isn’t enough that you’ve been on the phone with him for this short while, he prolongs your hanging up with: “Yeah, you can do that. When do you go?”

“This Saturday. It was the first train I could get, so—” There’s a loud shout on the other end, and your pained groan— “Shit, sorry, I have to go. People don’t know how to do their fucking jobs around here,” you mutter foully, and Toji can’t help the small smile that stretches his lips. “See you when I see you.”

“Yeah.” The line clicks. Toji holds his phone there for a second more before drawing it away and staring at the his screen, His thumb swipes over the buttons to select his contacts, and it opens up to reveal lists of numbers in his history. They’d all been jobs, and he never bothers to write them down. The important numbers are memorized, but other than that, he’s never really kept a contact since he started working again.

Swiping to his saved contacts, there is one square there with a picture, and your name typed out in that little block font. Toji’s grip tightens as he clicks on your profile to enlarge the photo, and he scowls deeper at what it’s been set to. Rarely do they exchange photos, but the majority of the photos you ever send Toji are of Megumi, and in this one, it’s him sleeping soundly in your lap when he was still little.

Maybe ten months. He knows it’s a little after Megumi’s mom died because of how small his son is, and how Toji can’t remember this picture. That whole time period had been hazy. He had just focused on finding you, dumping his kid somewhere so he didn’t have to see the state his father was in, and going out to make enough money to make it last another fucking week.

A part of Toji knows now that you would never have turned him away even if you acted like you would. Even if he never had a baby with him. 

He snaps his phone shut. Your words still haunt him, and the more he dissects that moment—a sliver of a 3AM morning two weeks ago—he starts to wonder if he made another wrong choice eight years ago.

.

Here is where Toji finds himself Friday night: forced to do dishes while Megumi clings to your chest like a stupid fucking parasite. You lounge on the couch, relaxing your ass off. 

To be fair, and Toji rarely is, you had been called in an emergency consultation which resulted in you having to send your patient to the hospital after you couldn’t find out where the pain was coming from, and staying there because the patient had, quote unquote, no support system and was borderline hysterical with the symptoms.

 “She said she had these bruises on her legs and hips like someone was grabbing her, but I couldn’t find anything. I can’t deny that her pain is real—there’s no way she’s faking this for attention because she’s… sane. She knows she’s not making any sense and we had psych do an evaluation,” you had told him when they met up in front of your apartment door. He had takeout in one hand, and Megumi in the other as you jiggled the key in. “Nothing. It’s a mystery. Maybe she’s experiencing some type of phantom pain routed from trauma.”

And Toji knows the answer before you even suggest a logical conclusion.

“She still there?” he had asked.

“Sent her home. No valid medical reason, but I told her I’ll be away, and to call me if she needs anything.”

He scrubs the dish with a dinosaur design a bit too hard, and winces when he sees that the pink colour is fading, but other than that, it remains silent on his end of the apartment. You and Megumi have a nonsensical conversation at the couch and you turn on channel that has dogs on it somehow as he finishes up. He sniffs dish detergent scent clinging to his hands, nostrils twitching at how strong the lemon is before shaking his head and rinsing his hands again.

“Doggy.”

“Yeah. That’s what those are,” comes your lazy reply. Turning around, Toji wipes his hands dry to see you lying on your side on the couch, Megumi sitting in front of your chest. You have your arm draped over his lap and wrapping his waist loosely, but you look asleep where you are. Snorting to himself, he throws the towel down and shuts off the lights in the kitchen.

You raise your head blearily at the dim light you’ve sunken into.

“You finished?”

“Are you?” he shoots back, sinking into the loveseat near your head. You sigh, burying your face into a nearby cushion, and Megumi crawls towards his father, your hand falling to the sofa. “Go to bed if you’re tired.”

“I’m not tired,” you mutter. “I’m just sick of today.”

He picks his son up, setting Megumi on his chest and running his hand over his head. The boy’s dark downy hair spikes up, and Toji tucks his chin to press his nose to a smooth forehead. “Girl still on your mind?”

“Mhm.” You crane your head to look at both of them, and your stressed scowl melts away, the knot between your eyebrows easing as you reach across the gap to tickle Megumi’s tiny socked foot. Squealing, he kicks your hand away and you chuckle to yourself, pushing yourself onto your elbow to tickle him again. 

Crawling up his dad, Megumi’s chubby fists seek purchase as he scrambles to get away, and you laugh, a short, rusty noise. It sounds like a tool that doesn’t get used enough, and you cover your mouth when you laugh, a habit that Toji’s noticed you’ve kept over the years. Megumi’s complaining in his ear, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from the way your eyes crinkle when they shut from smiling.

Despite the eye bags, the way your cheeks have gotten puffy from throwing up, the way you shift every two seconds because something in your body’s upset one way or another—Toji finds the way your eyes smile the most brain-numbing thing. He could stare at it forever, but it’s so fleeting that he has the strangest urge to frame it in a picture. Considering rare is it that you’re ever smiling at him when Megumi isn’t with him (although it’s becoming more and more frequent these days), Toji doesn’t think he could’ve gotten used to your smile again.

When he was nineteen, directionless and searching for a place to make it through one day, you had bordered him up in your closet and asked the master of the house with your most charming smile to keep him around because “he’s real handy if he puts his mind to it. Just give him a chance—“

Toji swallows. Such an uncomplicated series of days. His mind always gets so fucking quiet around you. He doesn’t worry about the past, or the future, or any of the stresses of the present (money, food, whether he’ll survive his next contract and the next, long enough to teach Megumi how to throw a ball).

No, his mind is just blissfully silent, resting in the way your words bite at his ears, the way your laugh strums like a raspy harp. 

He doesn’t recall the last time it’s been this quiet as the dogs on the TV bark and Megumi echoes the noise, a sprite of light in the darkness of the living room. It makes you laugh. Makes him hear that warm noise again.

“Put him to bed,” you utter after a while. The documentary has finished, and your voice cracks as you wake up fully. Toji blinks, ripping his eyes away from the screen to see your sleepy face illuminated by the TV. Megumi’s gone quiet, his gentle snores puffing against his father’s jaw. “I’m gonna get into my own.”

“Alright.” He stands and you swing yourself up, tipping over a bit, and his knees lock when the urge seizes him to move forward to steady you. Stomach clenching, a harsh frown passes over his face and he turns around before you can spot it. Walking down the hall, he puts his baby boy to bed just as your shadow passes over the door. You poke your head in to mumble a goodnight again, before continuing on your way. Toji sits by his son’s bed until he falls asleep before he rises again. 

Closing the door behind him, Toji glances to your bedroom. There’s still a lamp on, and he wonders if you’ve just forgotten to turn it off (again), or if you’re still awake despite your previous promise, and for some reason, his feet lead him to this door. 

His hand raises to knock.

“Yeah?” you answer. He pushes in.

You’re on the bed, pushing your feet under the covers. You’re wearing nothing but a long shirt, and your face is soft, tired. You can barely keep your eyes open, and maybe that is what makes you so warm to him now. You don’t have the energy to be angry with him, their situation, for anything. 

“Toji?” you prompt, and he, without a second of hesitation, crawls into bed after you. Your brow furrows as he plants a hand by your thigh, but there is no defense as he pulls the covers away to get under with you. “What is it?”

“I’m staying here tonight. Making sure you don’t fuck yourself over for tomorrow,” he says simply, but the truth is, he hadn’t known that until he said it. Pulling his shirt off, he flings it to the foot of the bed and gets comfortable in his boxers underneath the coolness of your blankets. He’s always ran hotter than most. You keep yourself an appropriate distance, rolling onto your side to face him while he lies on his back.

This isn’t a very common occurence. Toji doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he settles with just lacing them over his stomach, and when he turns to look at you, he finds you frowning thoughtfully.

“What’s wrong, Toji?” you prod quietly, resting your cheek on one of your hands. His eyelids flutter, invisible weight pushing them shut as he tries to scramble up an explanation. “We don’t do… this.”

“I’m just tired, I guess,” he grunts. Because, really, he has no idea why he’s here.

Why he’s in your apartment, in your life again. He left it for a reason.

“Okay,” you murmur. Your hand reaches to touch his bicep, and he can’t really remember that reason anymore. “My train’s early, so you’ll probably have to lock the door for me if you’re staying.”

You just rest your fingers there over the curve of his arm, thumb applying a soothing pressure into his eternally-aching body. Toji can feel your heat so clearly through your palm. A napalm grenade waiting to burst as soon as he lays a hand on you.

And he does, not even seconds later, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him. 

“Stay here and sleep with me,” he whispers as your nose bumps into his, and it edges on an order without him meaning to. You swallow, exhaling shakily, and his eyes lift to yours. They’re dark, half-lidded but consumed with an unbearable desire for something that he doesn’t understand. Lifting a lethargic hand, he rests it heavily on your cheek. You arch an eyebrow, and he half-smiles limply, hauling you closer. 

You push yourself on top of him, sitting yourself over his hips, and fold your arms over yourself, fingers tugging at the lip of your shirt. Toji’s gaze widens as you lift it up to reveal a body he already knows every crevice of and he clenches his jaw, dark hair falling into his eyes. Hand shooting to grab your elbow, he stops you just as you slip your head and shoulder out, the shirt hanging off your other arm.

Your breasts are open for him to swing up and kiss, to bite marks into, and they heave gently as you breathe on top of him, perfectly still, your face a whirlwind of emotions as you try to make sense of him. He slides his hands down to your hips, and he presses his finger pads into your back in what he means as a soothing pressure. You let out a tiny sigh, wiggling a bit, and glance down at yourself. 

Your brow furrows. “Do… you not want to?”

“No, no, I…” He sighs, one hand reaching up to tilt your chin back up so you would stop staring at your body like that. You can’t ever think that—Toji won’t allow himself to let you go on thinking that you’re ugly. “It’s not that. I just didn’t mean it like that.”

“Huh?” You frown. He lets go of your chin and trails his hand down your chest, eyes watching his own fingers drift past your belly button until he rests on your abdomen. His lungs seize at the way it rises and falls against his palm. The fat he normally loves to grab and smear kisses all over while your legs shake over his shoulders is so familiar in his grasp. You’re still not showing though. Sometimes, Toji forgets that there’s a fucking kid—his fucking kid—growing inside you, but right now, it’s all he’s intimately aware of.

“It came out wrong.” He grimaces. “I meant… I’ll sleep with you. In the same bed tonight.” He strokes your stomach before grabbing the back of your neck and bringing you down to his level. Bending over, your lips meet his warmly, and you melt into his grasp, legs stretching over his, waist unfurling to lay flush against his body. Your arms sink into the pillow, and your fingers seek purchase in the fabric. Thumb on your chin, he gently pulls your back and he drags his nose along yours, inhaling the smell of your body wash. “Just sleep,” he mumbles against your mouth. “You need to rest.”

You pull away. “Just…?” The pause is audible. You shake the shirt off your arm and he wraps his arms around you, using one of his hands to run over your head. 

Toji wants to punch himself, face burning up in embarrassment. “Lay here and sleep. For fuck’s sake, you’re pregnant, aren’t you? Don’t expectant mothers have to make sure they get enough sleep?”

You push yourself up onto your elbows, face wrinkling. “Well, I, uh, yeah, but—“

“Then, sleep. I’ll wake you up, alright?” Toji pushes you off his body and you let out a soft chuckle, shimmying underneath the blankets. As soon as you’re comfy, he yanks the comforter over your exposed body, making sure you’re covered up, before scowling and reaching over you to switch the light off.

As soon as the room plummets into darkness, a hand slides along his jaw, and another grabs his chin. He looks down just in time for a pair of lips press against his warmly and it isn’t long before their lips are on one another’s, mouths slotting open to allow tongues to dip into mouths. Falling onto his back, Toji’s hand cups the back of your neck and you roll onto your side, your leg draping over his waist, your arms bent between their chests, palms flat against his neck.

Your thigh tightens around him as a soft panting breath leaves you in the form of, “Goodnight.” Toji’s foot slides up your calf. He strokes your ear and you’re resting your head on his other arm, so there isn’t much he can do besides pull you even closer by the shoulders until their bodies are semi colons of one another.

The break—the time to breathe—in each other’s life sentences.

You slither an arm around him. His arm curls around to your back. Their noses touch, and Toji lets out a comfortable sigh before kissing you. Your eyes shut as you mumble something incomprehensible about sleeping. Tiny moans escape your throat when he slowly kisses your bottom lip in a seductive, soothing drag, and another soft whimper sinks into his heart when he kisses the corner of your mouth, your lips chasing his. You whine something barely resembling his name as you tilt your head in an effort to try to reciprocate, a habit more than a choice. 

Toji nearly laughs at you, at the thought of it.

He kisses your chin instead, a wave of exhaustion slowly tiding into his pool of a body, then he returns his lips to yours, kissing you slowly. Sedated. Oozing like molasses into the next kiss, and then another, and the strength begins to leave him as your arm twitches against his body with every press, your leg squeezing over his waist. You’re panting, soft and needy, and your body wants to move, but you’re so tired you have to settle for the exhausted sounds you can muster to encourage him.

Like you want him to keep going, want him to know you’re still paying attention to him, even in your dreams.

You murmur something again. Something hushed in your breath.

“Toji…”

So soft. It reminds him of when they were younger. You were the first person he remembers uttering his name so gently—so undeservingly warm while his heart was trapped in an eternal blizzard. You said it like you meant to—like he deserved to be someone.

Against his will, something warm flickers in his hollow chest.

.

The woman is quiet as she stares at him, blinking owlishly in the way most non-jujutsu types do. Ota Hiroko, twenty-three. Lives with her mom, two younger brothers, and her grandfather. He’d found her pretty quickly, all things considered. You’d only given a name, mumbled into your pillow just to shut him up for five more minutes, but as soon as you’d gotten on your train, Toji had gone to work.

“Can I help you?” Hiroko asks thinly. She looks exhausted, pale, and she’s shaking as she’s holding onto the door knob. Toji almost pities her. 

“You Hiroko?”

She nods, then presses her lips into a thin grimace. “Whatever you’re selling, whoever you are, I’m not interested.”

Toji cocks an eyebrow, and shifts his weight to one side, scanning what little of house he can see over her head. It reeks of Cursed Energy. No doubt what’s made its home here.

“I don’t even know why I bother.” He cocks his head, arches an eyebrow. “Could you stop hiding behind that door? I’m a friend of your friend’s. The doctor from the clinic, remember her?”

The girl’s eyes light up at the mention of you, and she stops clutching onto the door barricading her from him like a shield and reveals herself a bit more. As soon as he can see one of her legs, he sees a pale, bumpy, and gnarled hand wrapped tightly around the woman’s waist, the arm winding around her thigh. 

“Did she send you? She said… she said she wouldn’t be in town, but—” The door swings open wider, and Hiroko leans forward, eyes widening with a sheen of desperation. Toji looks down at the Curse pressing its face into the woman’s stomach, and a coil of disgust wraps around his own gut. “Does she know what’s wrong with me?” 

“No, but close your eyes for a second.” She frowns, and Toji resists the urge to slap some sense into this girl. Taking a deep breath, he reaches for the dagger tucked into the back of his pants, and thinks of something nicer. Or tries to. Nothing clear comes to mind, and his words come out sharp, impatient. “Lady, I can do it with your eyes open, but you won’t like it.”

“Do what?”

“Fix your problem.” Fingers wrap around the handle, and then he thinks of you, sleeping on the train to Osaka. He wonders, idly, if you ate. 

Hiroko frowns, her head tilting. She looks sweet, really, and maybe a bit too naive, but Toji can see why she pulled at your heartstrings.

“Why are you doing this?”

He hasn’t a clue. “A favour,” he answers shortly. “Now, close your eyes.”

(recapitulation)

Stepping into the home, you slip off your flats and stuff them into the slippers, the grip on your bag of groceries tightening. The air smells sterile, dry, and it’s hauntingly silent, but you’ve grown used to it ever since you arrived two days earlier.

Announcing that you’re back, you migrate to the kitchen and set the groceries on the table, delegating what needs to be put into the fridge and freezer, setting the loaf of bread on the wooden board for later. 

“Is that you?”

“Yeah.” 

Closing the fridge once you’ve put away the vegetables and milk and juice, you continue onto frozen snacks and meat into the freezer. Then, you grab a bag of chips, a cup of water, and move to join your friend in whatever he’s doing. You shuffle down the hall where Hajime is already sitting up in what used to be the living room. The TV is on, some program you’re not exactly caught up on but he insists he can’t miss every Monday playing, so you had made him make a list of things he wanted to eat before leaving while he entertains himself with some melodrama.

Ever since his terminal diagnosis, Hajime’s moved his entire life to the first floor of his parents’ house, but that doesn’t mean it makes life any easier. Bypassing the pictures of his family, you sit down and rip open the bag of vegetable chips, tilting it towards him. Throwing aside his blanket, Hajime lets out a rough cough before reaching his hand in. You set it on his lap and touch the blankets pooling around his legs. It’s heated, the electric currents setting the soft fabric near-aflame against your skin, and your heart drops.

Making space for yourself on the couch, you adjust the pillows around yourself and get comfortable, putting the cup of water on a nearby table. On the screen, some people in scrubs are in a conference room shouting at one another, and you rest your cheek against your fist, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s going on?”

“Hospital chief was revealed to cheat on wife with one of his top residents.”

“Damn.”

“Anything this juicy where you work?”

You snort. “No.” 

You think of Toji, and wonder what he’s doing. Your phone buzzed for the last time this morning, when he texted you to make sure that you were still alive, and you promised you’d call him tonight, his job permitting. Your heart clenches at the last night they spent together. The way he had kissed you to sleep, and you had woken before him anyway, his finger curled under your jaw, his chin atop your head.

Your heart warms against your will, and then aches because you miss him. Which you hate to admit, but you do. You’ve long since accepted that your soft spot for the guy has returned stronger, darker. Part of it because he’s older now, they’re both grown, but another part of it is because he’s the same.

The same man who tries to protect you at any given turn, who steals your food, who gives you a little dysfunctional family even though he doesn’t know it.

“You’re all smiles,” Hajime intones suddenly, and you blink, turning to look at him. He’s sunken into the pillows surrounding his body, and he eyes you with an unimpressed disposition.

“Am I? I’m not in a good mood.”

“Because you drew the short end of the stick and came all the way out here,” he remarks, and your mouth opens to protest but he speaks over you, “Hey, you didn’t have to. You probably have a whole life I don’t know about anymore back in the city, don’t you.”

“I’m surprised you even called,” you admit softly. “After I left… I never thought you’d try to find me again.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t change your number.” 

“I didn’t change it just in case you’d call.” His eyes widen and soften, and he looks away, throat bobbing as he swallows. You add, “You were my only friend there, and I promised when I left that you could always find me if you ever needed me, and you need me now, so I might be pissed that you’re dying, but I’m not letting you die alone, alright?”

A beat.

“You’re a big softie, y’know that?” Hajime teases, but his voice is unusually thick. You give him grace and watch the TV as he clears his throat. “Underneath all that bitchiness, you actually care about me, don’t you?”

“Nah,” you say, but your voice is weak, thin. “Just for nostalgia’s sake at this point.”

.

They’re sitting on the balcony of his old room, in two rickety plastic lawn chairs that are weather-worn and cheap. You had carried him up there because there’s no way he’s strong enough to move, but just sitting here feels strange. You’d never known Hajime like this—never the type of friends to visit each other’s places.

Then again, that was back before he forced himself to get back onto better terms with his parents before they passed away. Before you just up and left him.

“Want one?” he asks, offering the box of cigarettes to you. His eyes are bloodshot, and his hand trembles. It’s not cold out, and it won’t be long, you think. You just have a feeling. You’re going to wake up and he’ll be dead.

“I’m good.”

“Never knew you to be someone who refuses a smoke.” He lights up and inhales. You steel yourself for the coughing fit that seizes him suddenly, and you try to pretend it’s not agonizing hearing him hurt like this. It dissolves into a fit that has him gasping, and you dart over, take hold of him as he curls in on himself, the bare bones of his skeleton poking at you through his skin. “F-fuck. Fuck. I’m… I’m fine. J-just—“

“Here. C’mon. You got this.” His heart is racing through his back, and you slowly ease him to the floor, so there’s more room, until he’s lying against you, his head tilted back onto your shoulder. His chest heaves rapidly, pumps of oxygen barely making it through to his diseased lungs, and his eyes flutter shut as he lets the red slip between his lips, down his chin.

Thick globs of dark red. It shines, rivulets that escape down his chin, to his neck. Over his quivering Adam’s apple, his lips parted; wine rose petals, tasting just as sour.

"I don’t smoke anymore,” you say, patting his chest with your hand that’s draped over his shoulder. With your other hand, you shake your sleeve down over your hand and wipe the blood away from his skin. “I’m… I’m pregnant. So, I can’t smoke.”

“Pregnant?”

“Mhm.” You look down, and stretch your arm so your sleeve falls back to your wrist before patting his head.

“It’s Toji’s?”

A lump in your throat. “Yes.”

“…I see.” Hajime turns his face away from you, and a shadow—no, that’s the wrong word—an empty void consumes his face. It makes him look young and weak and alone—everything he doesn’t want to be. 

“Yeah,” he finally adds at last. “You never did get over him.” The world goes mute as he laughs to himself, a soft noise that makes his eyelids flutter. “I’m glad that you came for my last moments even though he’s back. Y’know, I’m pretty sure he hates me.”

“Toji hates everyone,” you snort, ignoring the rot taking root in your chest. You drum your fingers on Hajime’s collarbone, sighing. “It’s him against the world so don’t take it too personally.”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

You chuckle. “I guess he can’t hate the person who takes care of his son seventy percent of the time.”

“He likes you,” Hajime corrects, and there is something in the phrasing—perhaps in the tone he says it in (like it’s the most obvious, simple thing in the world)—that flips a switch in your brain. Those three words take root in your head and even though your brow wrinkles and you frown and you shake your head, you still hear those three words.

He likes you. “No, he doesn’t. All we do is fight.”

“You’re the one who convinced the Master to let him stay and”—a sharp whistle. He likes you—“there were more than a few complaints about the muscle outside your room. Y’know,” he laughs again, “they always thought we didn’t need to be protected, but Toji… and don’t let him know I said this, but he made it better. He scared ‘em off. He did.”

Your fingers brush over Hajime’s temple. “I know.” Hajime twists to look up at you through barely-open eyes, and his breaths are flimsy against your neck, as you look down at him, smiling faintly. “Toji was probably the closest thing to a friend I had. Besides you. And the other workers there. But it wasn’t like we were buddies. We were sex workers and he… wasn’t. He was just some guy who lived there.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Hajime’s cheek presses against your sternum. “I guess, he did do some handiwork, and you weren’t the personable type. You still aren’t.”

You snort. “Gee, thanks.”

“It takes a special kind of person to really, really understand you and—“

“Are you really inflating your own ego right now?”

“—and you didn’t want to be there for the rest of your life. Which was fine. But you closed your heart off because you didn’t want anyone to know how you ever worked to put yourself through school, which is fine, but he is the only one you ever opened yourself up to—“

“Okay, and?”

“And he likes you. You’re not half as oblivious as you think you’re being, but neither is he.”

“You don’t know that. You haven’t seen him in years,” you intone scathingly, but Hajime leans back, smiling, immune. He likes you. You shove him off you and get up. “You’re only saying that because you pity me. Just forget it, Hajime.”

Coughing, your friend wheezes out, “He’s texted you how many times since you’ve came here?”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“You’re playing house with the guy.”

“I babysit his son while he fucks off to god knows where. Do you think he really sees me as anything other than the person who gives him free stitches and puts a roof over his head whenever he wants? I don’t even know why we keep fucking. I don’t why I can’t say no.” You want to tear your heart out of chest and stuff it into Hajime’s mouth just to end the conversation. You walk to the end of the balcony while your dying companion clambers to his feet, grunting, hands clawing at the railing.

“You refused to see anyone else ever again after he left the House,” he wheezes. “You want me to believe that you don’t love him? Then, explain that.”

“That place robbed me of any sort of love. I hate you.” The wind carries and caresses your neck, stronger than Hajime’s own breathing, and you scratch at the nagging feeling, that itchiness spreading into your arms and making you uncomfortable in your cotton shirt. “And I hate him, too.”

“If he didn’t care about you, he would have left already. You know that,” Hajime utters softly, and you close your eyes. “You know he feels something for you. You’re too intelligent to turn a blind eye to that.”

“He’s in love with his dead wife.” The breath that leaves you takes everything you’re made of with it. He likes you. “I’m not going to compete with the person who gave him Megumi. I respect her memory too much to do that.”

“She’s dead,” Hajime murmurs. “And you’re still alive. What does it matter that he loved her? Why can’t it matter that he loves you?”

Can’t you understand? You want to scream in his face. He chose to stay for her.

.

At night, you make sure Hajime falls asleep before drawing yourself up for a vigil, blanket around your sinking shoulders. His breaths are frail, shuddering, and every time he coughs, you jump and take his slowing pulse. You don’t think you sleep a wink that night. Bones resting in a body that’s melded to the chair, you’re nothing but a pair of eyes trained on a face that you used to see every day.

You don’t even recognize him anymore. He’s lost so much weight and colour, and his hair is so thin and patchy. Hajime always refused to shave it, like he’s clinging onto some last part of the old him that doesn’t have cancer.

Tonight’s the night. It sucks. Everything fucking sucks. 

Before he goes, you manage to wake him up. His glassy eyes meet yours, and even near death, there is still that inquisitive gleam to his eyes.

“I don’t hate you,” you murmur. “Really just the opposite. I think I’m dying, too.”

His eyes squint in a smile before slipping shut. He’s too weak to even move his mouth anymore, and you think you’re going to puke.

You miss your old life. It was shitty, and repetitive, and made you repulsed by your own body, but perhaps you wouldn’t be so entirely alone.

You sit by Hajime’s bedside until his heart stops, and when you’re sure he is finally dead, you rise and clear your throat. Sniffing, you head for the surrounding woods. 

(coda)

You don’t call him for days. It worries Toji, but you had sent him one last text saying that Ojiro Hajime is dead.

Then, another text.

Arriving 6AM tomorrow. Hope everything’s fine. Will see you soon.

His answer.

Need anything?

You hadn’t answered. He gives you a grace period until ten PM, and when you’re still radio silent despite him calling, Toji packs Megumi into some second-hand pick-up and drives to the tiny city of Matsushima. There’s a certain panic that he tries to contain. Maybe it isn’t human, but when Megumi cries about being exhausted after waking up in a car seat four hours from home, Toji just barely manages the patience to calm his cranky son whilst trying to stuff down the harsh forces punching to his tongue.

A terrible rotting is festering in his gut. You’re either dead, or you’re in danger, or Ojiro’s death had destroyed you to such an extent that Toji needs to make sure you can still function.

He passes the town line, parks in the first place he sees, and gets out of the car, hiding his sidearm underneath the flap of his jacket. Picking up Megumi, Toji’s ears prick for noise. 

It’s almost two thirty AM. 

You had sent pictures once you arrived. The house is up on a hill. There’s no doubt you’ll still be there in the wake of his death if you’re okay.

So he makes that climb, and smells the wind for any signs of foul play, his one hand supporting Megumi despite being in a baby carrier, and his other hand ready at his handgun. Eyes dart from every stray shadow to another unfamiliar shape. This path is unfamiliar, and although he doesn’t sense any curses, every step makes his stomach coil tighter and tighter.

His steps are silent but hasty as he ascends, and before he knows it, his knuckles are rapping against the door, thunderous knocks that nearly rattle the door off its hinges. There’s the sound of a door opening upstairs before quick footsteps, and he hears you pause to glance into the peephole before the door swings open.

“Toji?” You sound confused, tired, and he grins lopsidedly at the way you still manage to glare at him. “What the fuck are you doing here? It’s late, I—”

“Unhappy to see me?”

Your jaw snaps shut, and you tilt your head to the ground as you mutter, “No. You should come in, though.” At this, your gaze lift to meet his. Exhaustion drags your features to the earth, swallows your eyes whole. “Megumi looks tired.”

“Yeah. He’s gonna be a cranky bastard in the morning.”

Your smile begins to grow, and it brightens your eyes as you slant your body to make room for him to come in. He starts forward, his boot lifting off the ground to step through the threshold of this home. Megumi shifts against his chest. His finger loosens around the safety of his gun.

There is a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. It’s so fast he can barely detect it in time when suddenly, you’re yanked back into the darkness, a black sash wrapped around your mouth. Eyes widening, his heart freezes as a muffled scream wrenches out of your mouth. There’s a thud as the door swings shut, but he shifts his weight back and his foot bursts through the wood, splintering and cracking the night. Megumi lets out a strangled cry at the sudden movement, and Toji’s hand cradles around his son’s head, trying to protect his ears and skull as the smell of Cursed Energy drenches his entire body. It's reek enough for four or five sorcerers at most.

Stepping through the ruined door, he raises his gun into the shadows, blinking the light away. Moonlight streams in behind him, giving shape to objects but the farther away they are, the more they become a monotonous shape. Gritting his teeth, Toji holsters his gun and the Cursed Worm sitting in his stomach is pushed up onto his tongue. He spits it into his palm, guiding it around his neck and when his hand closes near the mouth of the spirit, cold chains push into his fingers.

His ears prick. 

Frantic footsteps, fingers scrabble against wood. A muffled struggle echoes down the hall, and despite Megumi’s rasping cries flooding his ears and giving away his location, Toji can’t escape the panicked racing of your heart above it all. He blinks, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness before winding up the chain in a sharp spin, trained wrist maneuvering the weapon like an extended limb.

A door creaks. Grunts. Soft socked feet shoot towards him. His eyes dart left. They’ve crashed into a wall. Collapsed, sounds like, and there’s a ragged gasp.

“Stop!” Your voice sends lightning down his very core, and his eyes widen. There’s figures tussling in a shapeless pile of black, and he swears for a moment, he can see your eyes—pits of black illuminated by pale dots of pure white fear—meeting his. “Don’t! Megumi—”

The toddler boy screams as a hand wraps around your face and drags you back into the darkness. It swallows your figure entirely, and Toji begs for his legs to move, but his knees lock and he looks at the wailing bundle strapped to his body, cursing its existence. There’s too much ambiguity in this hallway.  He can guess how many cousins and uncles and other off-shoot fucks playing at being royalty are lurking on the grounds. There's three in his immediate presence, but he can’t say for certain what sort of back up awaits a gunfight.

If he draws, you’re dead.

If he doesn’t, you’re lost.

The Zenin family won’t think a non-sorcerer civillian woman is worth the precious Zenin blood that Fushiguro Toji will shed, and cut their losses quick. A man steps out of the shadows as you are taken father and farther away, and he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to ignore the barbed wire gouging his heart.

“We have no quarrel with you, Toji,” Jinichi speaks, and there is that distinct oily disgust that rises when Toji hears his older brother speak. His eyes open to see him standing there, tall and solemn. “We want the girl and the child she carries, and we will care for her well enough to term.”

A harsh scoff. “Please. You’ll pamper her well enough for a prisoner, sure, but as soon as she pops out the kid, you’ll kill her, and the kid, too, if it doesn’t have what you want.”

“Any child of Zen’in blood is welcome. Perhaps she could make a suitable wife for one of our esteemed cousins,” he intones dryly. 

A pillar of fire shoots through Toji, and a harsh, cold laugh spills out of his mouth. “You think she’s well-behaved enough to be a wife. You have no fucking idea what she’s like.”

“Toji, don’t make this harder for yourself. I’m showing her mercy because you seem to fond of her, and you’re my brother.” His brother almost smiles, teeth gleaming in the dark. “Besides, that’s my nephew. I am not as wasteful as our father. I won’t spill promising young Zen’in blood.”

“If you’re aiming to play into some kind of sentiment, you’re stupider than I remember.” Toji’s grip on the Chain of a Thousand Miles tightens. Jinichi has always underestimated him. It’s been a decade. Toji is sure, sure he is faster. “Do you still wanna duke it out like the good ol’ days, big bro?”

“You kill me, she dies.” Jinichi turns around, and waves a hand. The Cursed Energy flowing around the house immediately begins to dissipate, and Toji, for the first time in months, thinks about the satisfaction he would feel putting a bullet in his older brother’s head. “You follow us, you’ll never see her again. You know better than most how serious I can be.”

Jinichi of the Hei glances over his shoulder to make sure the Sorcerer Killer does not mean to follow, and then he, too, sinks into the darkness.

.

They cannot stay in that home, so they do not. Toji takes Megumi on foot, and walks until they find a hostel off the side of the road. The guy manning the front desk is alarmed at Toji’s appearance combined with the baby who has cried himself to sleep on his chest, but he doesn’t ask questions.

Sitting on the bed, he sets Megumi down to sleep properly, and tries to ignore the speed of which his heart is beating. His stomach’s flipped over, and a harsh scream wants to explode from his chest as he shoves himself into the cramped shower. 

The shower boasts no temperature control, and his skin is red from both ice cold and burning heat when he steps out, wiping at the misted mirror. The scar on his lip has flushed where it crosses his lips, and he tugs at it absently.

They’d take you back to the main estate. Highest security, most isolated location, amongst other things. There was a collection of Curses in that cellar, but they wouldn’t keep you in there. There was no point in putting the pregnancy in jeoprady. They have no idea how far along you are until the doctor can get to you. 

But the Zen’in homestead is massive. If you aren’t at the main house, you could be in the acres of woodland surrounding it. No doubt there are hunting cabins, fishing huts, other houses for the branch families to stay in or use that Jinichi could stow you away in. Toji knows some of them, but he hasn’t been home in years. 

He’d have to go back to Hajime’s house, pick up a trail.

Toji exits the bathroom, rubbing at his scalp roughly as if that could work out the headache beginning to fester in the centre of his skull. 

Or, he could leave. Find a place to disappear to, find a new woman to play house with. A nicer woman. One who wouldn’t make such a fuss every time he so much as breathed. He could. What difference would it make? There’s no reason why he should go back to that hellhole. Why he needs to.

Megumi is holding onto his feet, rolling on his back, and there’s a slow, drifting movement between the beds as he giggles, oblivious to it. Toji reaches for the gun he left on the bathroom counter just as his son sits up to look at him, smiling toothily, and two sets of ears prick behind the mattress.

That night, the Divine Dogs come to his son for the first time. They’re nothing more than young pups, but they’ll grow even larger in time—outmatch the hungriest of wolves and the most monstrous of bears. 

But Toji doesn’t need another killer. He’s more than enough.

The shikigami sniff at the place they’ve been summoned to, exploring with keen eyes and wrinkling noses, and Toji stalks forward, crouching in front of the bed and grabbing hold of his son by the shoulders. Megumi lets out a shocked squeal, but he ignores it.

“Megumi,” Toji rasps, stares into those wide eyes. His son has his mother’s face, eyes, nose, mouth, and although it’s agonizing to look at from time to time, Megumi screws up his face the same way you do, and it strikes him now. Why he needs to do this. Why he’s done everything he has for the past few months. “Megumi, I need you to listen to me.”

.

Blood drips off the edge of the his knife as he pushes the door open silently. The figure inside scrambles back, and there’s a frantic, muffled scream as the dogs slither in past his legs. They sniff the air, panting, as Toji pulls his mask down. 

The black dog growls a low warning, disappearing into the shadows and there’s the sound of clinking chains as a heavy gasp pierces the darkness. 

Moonlight streams into the room, illuminating the white dog returning with a wet cloth that must’ve been a gag pinched between its teeth. Toji steps onto the mat, trying to keep count of the seconds he has before they’re inevitably found.

“Are you alright?” he whispers, struggling to push the desperation, the relief from his voice. His heart quickens as a glimmer of your eye catches his.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you stammer. He can’t see the state of your body just yet, but the fact that you’re talking is a good enough sign. “How did you find me?”

“Dogs. Good sense of smell.” He breaks the chains easily with the hilt of the dagger. “Hold this.” Flipping the knife over, he extends it to you in the darkness, and you let out a grunt, fingers drifting over his own briefly before you lift it from his palm. When he tries to find your waist, your breath flutters against his cheek, but you make no other noise, lifting your head over his shoulder. “Can you stand? We don’t have a lot of time.”

“I think so. Move.” You clutch onto his shoulder and push, and he helps you to your feet as the Divine Dogs lope towards the lip of the room once more, alert and ears pricked for any approachers. “I’m fine. I can walk. I don’t know where we are, though, so I can’t be of much help.”

“That’s fine. Just get behind me and watch my back. We’ve got to get to a safe house.”

“A safe house, huh,” you mutter. “Something that comes with the job.”

Toji can’t help the wry smile twisting his lips, reaffirming his grip on his knife. As they approach the exit, he looks back just to make sure you weren’t lying. Your face is smattered with bruises, cheek swollen, and the side of your head is slick with blood, but your eyes are alert. You reach forward and when your fingers dig into his shoulder strongly, a great knot right in his diaphragm becomes undone. 

“Let’s go.”

Slipping out of the room, the two crouch and follow the dogs towards the forested acres surrounding the Zen’in compound. They’ll be able to escape to the river and lose the scent, before doubling back to where they need to go. The nearest safe house is a run-down motel where the owner owes Toji a favour. 

They can plan their next moves from there.

“We have to go back to Osaka,” you hiss as they slink into the gardens. It’d be best to avoid leaving a trail of bodies, although the ones Toji hid earlier of the guards near your rooms would soon be found if the incoming patrols were smart. “Hajime’s body is still in the house.”

“Going back there isn’t my priority,” he replies icily. His eyes scan the path by the koi pond. It’s out in the open, but it’s either that or risking making the bushes rustle as they try to skirt around the hedge wall. “C’mon. We’ve gotta be fast.”

Four shadows dart across the silver lawn, disappearing onto the other side of a well-worn stone path. The trickling of the pond chimes, covers their soft steps as they reach the other end without much trouble, following the path to the servant’s quarters on the edge of the estate. 

Signalling for a stop, Toji crouches behind a rock statue and you fall in behind him.

“Stick close. We reach the end of this building, and run for the forest.” He tilts his head, peeking around to scan the building. The shadows cast by this place are longer than he remembers, and his heart hammers against his sternum. Swallowing tightly, he closes his eyes for a brief moment. Fists take ahold of his gut, threatening to rip him apart from the inside out. If he stops for a moment, will it all come back to him? 

“Toji,” you whisper, placing a hand on his shoulder. He tears his eyes away from the grass. You shuffle closer until your shoulder is pressed against his own, and your fingers ghost over his cheek. “Lead the way. I’ll be right behind you.”

He jerks his head down before ducking around the corner.  The servant’s quarters have always been less extravagant than the main house. It is by no means unkempt, but perhaps it’s the best comparison when placed side by side with the luxury. The wood creaks when Toji steps up onto the engawa, and it whines even more as you ascend beside him. 

It won’t be long before someone comes searching for the source of the noise but they just have to round the corner. It’ll be thirty-three steps and then a sprint into the woods. Toji’s traced these steps before, twice. He hopes this third pass will be his last.

The dogs sprint forward, the white one a shining silver beacon and the black one its blurred shadow. They’ve almost made it, and with luck, they’ll be far away from here come the morning.

Your breath comes harsh and fast, excited or anxious, he’s not sure. He’s so attuned to it that it floods his senses. 

The rhythmic patter of your feet. You’re not far behind. They’re two seconds away from jumping off the veranda. The dogs reach the end of this wooden path. Tails thrashing, ears flat against their heads, they leap.

Then, the white wolf lets out a warning bark, golden glare gleaming like fire in the moonlight.

Toji is running too fast. He can’t think. His instinct is to duck. 

His body moves. His knees hit the hard floor, and he slides past the corner of the building just as a shadow of a man appears in the peripheral of his view. Mouth curling into a scowl, he shoots a hand to his gun. Draws. 

You’re trying to skid to a stop past him, in front of him. His eyes widen. The gun brushes your side, his finger twitching.

He can’t think. His instinct is to pull the trigger. Launch a bullet through your body, silence that man who will no doubt send all the fury of the Zen’in Clan onto Toji once more.

Blood splatters across his face. 

You shove the knife up with a short, sharp huff, piercing through the jaw and up into the brain. before the scream the man was about to let out can escape, and yank the blade out. Blood gushes over your hand in terrifying, oozing waves as Toji surges forward to catch the body, easing it to the ground and grabbing your hand. 

They run past, onto plush grass, into the forest and towards the river, and he can hear your frantic breaths, the thunderous echo of your heart. You turn back to look at the corpse, but it’s a fool’s task. You cannot see your work past the crest of the hill they run down.

His hand slips against your skin, but when your fingers wrap tightly around his own, he trusts you not to falter.

They run into the river, and Toji hauls you onto his back for the rest of the way. Your feet brush against the water and your arms tighten around his neck, but you don’t protest like you normally would. Instead, you rest your head down, and let him take you without any questions. 

They go downstream, then upstream. The shikigami have since been dismissed by the time they have to go back the way they came. Perhaps Megumi’s fallen asleep, but his son has done more than enough that Toji reminds himself that the next time he wants something, no matter how ridiculous it is, he will seriously consider buying it. 

Soaked to his torso, Toji adjusts his girp on your legs wrapped around his waist. You’re shivering against his back, and he catches a glimpse of your face when he cranes his head back enough.

“Fine?”

“Fine.” 

“Almost there,” he continues over the gentle flow of the river. “Motel. You can rest there.”

“That supposed to be safe?”

“Know a guy. Occupational acquaintance.”

“How generous.” You bury your face into his neck. “Thank you. You shouldn’t have come for me.”

“Don’t be fucking stupid.” Turning forward, he grimaces when the riverbed sinks, and he hoists you further up his body. He nearly sinks to his chest and you raise your head to look around. You’re remarkably calm. It’ll come crashing down soon. He wants to be within the confines of four walls before that happens. “If you’re awake, make yourself useful and keep an eye out.”

Your dry response pricks at his ears as your hands push up on his shoulders. “Yes, sir.”

.

The motel is a rundown shit-hole. 

Well, Toji never claimed himself to be a gentleman.

They’re cooped up in a cramped bathroom as he insisted that he look you over just in case there was Curse damage. The light flicks overhead, which you look at while Toji runs a rag under water.

“They won’t find us here?” you ask blankly. Toji turns and sees your placid face upturned towards him. You watch him with steady eyes that haven’t torn away from him for a moment despite how heavy they must feel. You’re exhausted, but by the way your hands are clenched at your knees, you can’t bare to close your eyes. 

“No. They won’t find us.” He crouches before you, and begins to rub at your face. The blood has crusted and flecks off when he touches your temple, and you flinch. “Did that hurt?”

“No. No, they didn’t… it was because I tried to run. They knocked me out.” Your fingers shake uncontrollably as you reach for your head. “Head wounds bleed a lot… I promise, it doesn’t hurt so bad.”

“Don’t feel rattled?”

“Not from a concussion,” you affirm. He gently pushes your hand down, and you let out a long, deep exhale. “They can’t hurt me when I’m carrying their blood, I think is what they said, so I’m okay, I think. I need to go to the clinic to make sure, but I’m okay.”

“You’re not going back there.” Taking hold of your shoulders, he is sure to look into your eye and speak slowly. “I don’t give a fuck about money—we’re not going back to Tokyo."

“We?” you echo. Your lips twist into a bitter scowl, and you push his arms away. “Toji, I don’t even know what happened to me. I got kidnapped because of you? Is that it?”

“Yes,” he snaps. “Because you decided to keep the kid. They found out, and they want that kid more than you probably do.”

“But why? They said something about a technique. Shadows, something.” You shake your head and your eyes narrow as you stand, stepping over and around him. Bracing yourself against the sink countertop, you stare at your own reflection. “What have you not been telling me?”

“A whole slew of things.” He rests on his knees, stretches the rag out to you. You turn to take it and begin to clean up your own complexion as he struggles for words. “A world you don’t know about. My job. You never asked questions.”

“You wouldn’t have wanted to give me any answers,” you retort. You temper your breathing, try to keep it even, but as you see yourself more clearly, Toji hears every painful inhale. Every agonizing hitch in your lungs. “I just wish I could understand.”

“I know. I know this shit doesn’t make sense. It’s not fair.” He shakes his head. “I owe you. I know that.”

“You never pay your debts.”

“That’s true.” A bitter chuckle escapes him. “But you can still… if you get rid of that kid, there’s a chance they won’t touch you.” Your lips part in protest, and you twist to look down at him. Rising, Toji feels gutted raw, everything inside him scooped out and replaced with nothing but sawdust. His joints ache strangely. His throat scratches, his eyes burn. He’s had enough of this sick existence, and he wants to throw up until his guts are clean of glass. “And I’ll disappear. You won’t ever hear from me again.”

Your erratic inhales quiver as he pulls the rag away and lifts his other hand to brush the side of your head. He dabs at the impact wound as you stare hollowly into his chest. 

“Do you think that pays back your debt to me?” you ask stonily. “That that even begins to cover what you owe me?”

“No,” he replies. The light flickers overhead. The buzz of old electricity hums between them. “No, but it’s the only way I know how.”

Your eyebrows scrunch when he presses too hard. Your eyelids flutter, but you don’t make a sound. Toji bites his lip hard enough he begins to taste iron, but he can’t speak. He doesn’t trust himself not to say something incredibly, irredeemably stupid.

You save him from that. You save him from so many other foolish things.

 “You don’t get to run from me and pretend it’s for my benefit,” you whisper in a dull, dead way. “That’s not going to happen. You understand me? This Zen’in Clan… they’re going to come for Megumi, too, aren’t they? Those dogs. He… he really likes dogs. You said they were his, so it must be what they want.”

He touches the rag to your swollen lip, his other hand tilting your chin up. “Yeah. And the Zen’in Clan is one of the most powerful political families in our society.” You peer at him in the pale, cold light of the bathroom. It paints you in an unflattering palette, but when Toji meets your gaze, a cold, icy dagger sinks into his back. You still look at him with the epitome of surrender. Underlying any sort of gentleness or hate or fury, there is that knowing. 

They are entirely at each other’s mercy.

“I see,” you reply measuredly. “So, we have no chance.”

“You do,” he insists.

“No, I don’t.” Your lips press together. “I’m keeping the baby. They’ll come for me regardless of whether or not you’re here. So, really, if you think leaving me is what’s best, I can’t change that about you.”

His heart flash decays in his chest and he shoots the rag into the sink bowl, planting a hand on the countertop and grimacing. Bowing his head, he digs his fingers into the porcelain and watch the blood water slowly trickle down the drain.

He doesn’t want to leave you, can’t you understand that? If he did, he would’ve left you with his family to die. That is the most permanent solution he could ask for. If it was the better choice for his own self, the guilt would eat him alive, and he would’ve let it, but he didn’t. Toji knew the consequences of the choice he made when he set out for his ancestral home. 

You’re here with a bounty on your head, and you’re asking him. Asking him to do something he can’t do anymore, and he knew you would.

He came for you anyway.

You exhale a shivering breath, inhaling another one before it can fully escape, and turn away from the mirror. The shadows nearly envelope you entirely. 

“I’m going back to Osaka in the morning,” you tell him with no room to protest. “Hajime deserves a funeral. You either come with me, or you don’t. I’ve killed someone today. I doubt there’s not much more I wouldn’t do to keep myself alive, so don’t do it out of some obligation to me."

You rest a hand on his chest, against his heart, before you nod to yourself.

“Goodnight, Toji.”

You leave. The handprint that lingers burns like arsenic.

.

Toji jumpstarts a car and they drive to Osaka in silence. Megumi is asleep in your lap on account of the lack of booster seat, and you don’t look at him the entire way there.

When they reach Hajime’s house, it is dawn, the air frosty despite the sun on their faces. The place is as Toji left it, with a hole through the front door. You don’t comment on the scrambled interior, and merely traverse through to the backyard where a stack of wood has already been cut.

“Help me build a pyre,” you instruct shortly. “It’s what he wanted.”

Toji spends the better part of the morning building the pyre. You stay inside to make food, and return with Megumi an hour and a half later. The boy is still asleep, which is both a miracle and a relief. Toji had worried that using the Ten Shadows would drain the child at first, but his son is strong.

He’s just finished the platform as you cross the lawn. Pulling off the gloves, he shoves them under his arm and meets you halfway. “Here.” You extend a plate towards him. Eggs, sausages, and half an apple laden the dish, and you jerk your head over your shoulder. “There’s rice porridge inside.” He nods, and your eyes drift to the pyre. “Here, take Megumi. I’ll continue where you left off.”

“Where’s…”

“Upstairs. On the balcony.” You grab the pair of gloves from him. “No good for Megumi to see that, y’know?”

He nods again. “Alright.”

Brushing past him, you make your way towards the chopped wood and lift. Together, they finish the pyre just past mid-day.

You retreat into the house and slip into one of the rooms upstairs as Toji finds anything that can be scrapped together into lunch. Holding a bowl of instant noodles and steamed vegetables, he finds you asleep in an empty room, curled atop the covers and holding a pillow tight to your chest.

Placing the food on the nightstand, he perches on the edge of the bed. He debates waking you up, his hand settling on your arm, but when you don’t stir immediately, he decides against it. You didn’t sleep much the night before, and woke up early. That, and all that pregnancy business. Toji doesn’t know half about it, but he knows enough.

Perhaps it’d be best if he left you be.

.

You wake up in the late afternoon. 

While you eat outside, Toji carries Hajime’s body and lays him to rest. It’s a pitiful thing to look at. The boy is pale, skin loose, hair patchy, and there’s a sort of fragility that unsettles Toji. He had been nothing but a bag of bones in the end, and resembled more of an old man, but his skin is so smooth, unwrinkled. 

How is that supposed to make any sense?

Toji wonders if you’ve ever smelt a burnt body before. When they light the pyre, and watch as the entire structure goes up in flames, Toji does not watch Hajime disappear. Instead, he keeps his eyes steadily trained on you. The fire reflects in your irises, brings a synthetic life to dead eyes.

For a long while, they don’t speak. Toji leaves briefly to attend to Megumi, and he watches through the window as you stare at the fire consume the remnants of your old life. He heats up leftover okayu for dinner, and brings both a bowl and his son out to accompany you.

Dusk slowly settles over the horizon as he hands you the bowl. You take it without complaint, sipping. He briefly squeezes your hands, touches the back of his hand to your forehead, and you shoot him an arched eyebrow. Megumi lets out an appreciative noise at the pretty fire, slapping his hands against his father’s forearm. Toji shrugs.

“He told me not to tell you,” you say as his hand falls away from your head, “but he was grateful to you.” Eyebrows shooting up, a deep frown twists Toji’s mouth but you only smile fondly. “You made sure we were safe, even if that wasn’t your intention.”

“I suppose.” His eyes drift distantly over the burning logs. "Tell him I say you're welcome." 

.

Megumi falls asleep again within the hour. It must be a combination of warm food, his father rocking him, and the exhaustion from the previous days lingering. When he rejoins you, you’re standing, your empty dish by your feet, and you greet him with a curt nod as he finds his place next to you.

The fire is steadily burning away, although it’s been a while now. The whole ordeal will be done before midnight.

You loop your thumbs through the belt holes of your jeans. “Will they know where I live if I go back?”

“Yes.” He kicks the disturbed dirt near his boot. The sound of the wood bending and finally snapping cracks the night. “They might offer you money once they realize you’re alone. When the kid is born, they’ll just take him if you put up a fight. If you don’t, they might let you stay. Then, they’ll wait a few years. Find out if the kid has what it wants. If it doesn’t, they’ll throw you out and keep the kid. If it does, they’ll marry you into the family. The claim is illegitimate otherwise.”

“What claim?”

“The Ten Shadows. If the child can control the Ten Shadows, then there’s no doubt they’ll groom them to be the next head of the clan. And they’ll treat ‘em like royalty, so maybe, it won’t be so bad for the kid. It might even be good. Better, if it’s a boy.”

“The same would happen if it were Megumi,” you point out. “You don’t consider bringing him back? Let him be raised as a prince?”

“They’d either pay me or kill me for him. I’ve considered it before,” he admits. “I don’t know why I don’t.”

“I see.” You lift your head to the smoke rising up into the inky sky. A signal to those around for certain, but Toji doubts the Hei would regroup and attack again so quickly. “They won’t let you stay with me.”

He shakes his head. You worry your lip between your teeth, and turn back to the pyre. The wind blows gently, pushing the ribbons of orange, yellow, and sparkling red towards the trees.

“You got a light?”

“Yeah.”

Reaching into his jacket, he sniffs. The smoke’s reminding him of his own nasty habit. “What are you thinking?”

“Weighing my options.” You shove your hands into your pockets and withdraw a lighter. Pulling out his box of Mild Sevens, he pinches one between his lips and cups the end. You lean over, torching the end and frowning delicately when you note the cigarette.

“Do y’mind?” he mumbles.

“No.” The sizzling end of the cig is covered by the sound of your lighter clicking shut and he takes a long drag, turning his head away. “Dick move to do that in front of me, though.”

He snorts in amusement, smoke escaping. “I’ll quit when the baby comes.”

“Whatever you say.” You hug yourself, tucking your chin in. “Do you… do you think you’ll be here when the baby does come?”

Toji blinks. Run, a voice inside him demands. You’ll kill her if you stay.

“It’s a nice image,” he says against his better judgement. Your eyes drag to his figure, and you take a half-step towards him, hand reaching out, but he jerks his glare down at your extended appendage. Immediately, your body freezes, and your hand curls into a tight fist. Softly, he rests a hand atop your knuckles and gently pushes down. “Megumi would like a sister.”

"Well, I want you to stay." The flames flicker across the apple of your cheek, and you finally take hold of his sleeve. “I want you to want to stay. I know it’s too much to ask. It’s selfish. But I have watched you leave before, and if I have to watch you leave again, fine, but only if I know it’s for the last time.” Your fist shakes. He pinches the cigarette between two fingers and exhales towards the pyre. “And you promise you’ll disappear. For good. You, and Megumi. You understand me?”

As tender as a man like Toji can be: "Yeah, I understand.” 

You let go of his sleeve, step away, and face the pyre too. The flames are not as tall as they were before, although they’re no less bright and voracious against the night. It’ll still be an hour or more yet until it’s snuffed entirely, which you seem to grasp as you sit down on the grass. Drawing your legs to your chest, you rest your chin on your knees and let your entire body slouch forward. Toji glances down at you before sidling in a little closer and finishing his cigarette.

Flicking the bud towards the fire, he lets out a cough. The taste is something he’ll never get used to. Soon enough, though, it’ll probably be the last reminder he has of you if he goes. Just some pack of cigarettes in a gas station as if that’s enough to represent you in your frustrating entirety. 

Toji wonders what sort of person he is to think about this when your best friend is burning in front of them. He wonders, too, about what Hajime had said about him. He hasn’t spoken to the boy in a decade, haven’t thought about him in years. There had been a time where they’d almost been brothers.

He debates smoking another cigarette, for his sake, but you wouldn’t appreciate that even if you don’t tell him no. 

He settles on not smoking, and watching the smoke on the pyre instead. Eventually, a weight leans against his leg. Your head against his knee, you don’t speak. Don’t move. Don’t give any indication that he’s even there. Lips twisting into wry, pitiful sort of grimace, Toji carefully crouches down, setting a hand on your head. You cant your head upwards, meeting his gaze.

“I’m sorry, too.” You lift a hand to his cheek, and your thumb stretches to brush over his lower lip. Your head tilts as you examine the scar, but then you’re lifting your gaze to his nose, trace the shape of his brow. “I just can’t let this one thing go.”

“I know.” He smiles grimly. “But to be honest, you hold a grudge.”

You mimic his smile. “Yeah, I know.”

Tilting your head forward with his hand, Toji closes the gap between them. Their noses brush, and your face, your exhausted, angry, beautiful face, is all he can see. The flecks in your irises, the stray hairs along your eyebrows. He runs his fingers down the side of your cheek as you turn to look at the fire, and remembers how hard it was to leave the first time. It rips apart old sutures in an ancient part of his withered heart. He wasn’t so much a coward that he left a note while you were asleep, but the way your face had glazed over into a placid numbness lingers.

“I know another safe house you can stay in long term,” he says as the wood pyre creaks and crumbles. There’s the sound of a few tumbling, crashing logs and your head snaps to the source. Continuing on, Toji tries to ignore the tight ball clogging up his throat. That damn fucking cigarette. It’s made his mouth feel all funny.

He plants a knee on the ground, and sheds his jacket. You’re about to shove him away but he lets out a sharp warning, forcing it around you.

“If you get sick after being out in the cold and inhaling all this smoke, how’s that good for the kid?” he snaps, and you stop, staring at him. “That place is good. They’ll keep you warm, and fed—”

“What about you?”

“What about me?” he asks. You pull the lapels of his jacket tighter around yourself. “I can take you there, and it’ll be near Tokyo. Somewhere more familiar.”

“And then you’ll leave again?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Well, do you want to leave?” you press, pushing yourself to your knees. Toji pinches the bridge of his nose as you grab his arm. “Toji. If you’re just going to leave, what is the damn point of taking me somewhere else? Why wouldn’t I go back to your crazy fucking family when I know for certain they’ll take care of my kid?”

He nearly gawks at your stupidity. “Because they’ll treat you like shit. They’ll turn your kid against you. Do you think I’m the prime example of good family dynamics?”

“No, but…” Your fingers dig through his shirt. Clenching his jaw, he refuses to look at you as your other hand latches onto his shoulder. Why can’t you see? Is he not being clear enough? You can’t go back there. Toji knows you’ll die one way or another, and while he can bear it enough to be apart from you—to kill you is to inflict a mirrored wound on himself. 

“No.”

“I know what I am compared to you. Compared to them. I’m nothing, Toji.” His name slips from your mouth, reed-thin and desperate. “Toji. Look at me. Please.”

He’s never heard you beg before. It stings like a poison, swelling up in his lung. Silent, he only looks down at your hand. It springs off his arm as if he’s scalded you.

“I don’t know what sort of world you’ve been living in,” you admit dully. “And maybe that’s my fault for never asking the right questions. But you can’t expect me to keep listening to you like it’s for my own good.”

“I’m not looking for reasons. It’s what rational, you idiot. It’s because of your association with me that you’re being targeted. It would be smarter if we split up in case they come looking again.”

“Well, it’s too late now!” You shoot to your feet, yanking his jacket off your shoulders. “I’m scared out of my fucking mind right now, and you’re talking about dumping me at some safe house near Tokyo. As if I’d stay there when I know there’s a place I might be needed. I'd be irreplaceable if I go back. At least for a little while. Which is maybe more than I can say for how you see me.”

Rising, Toji bites back the harsh insults that want to pour out of his mouth. His heart splinters as you shove the jacket into his solar plexus and you let out a rattling breath, twisting to face the pyre once more. Oxygen knocked out of him, Toji lets his jacket fall to to the ground and his body moves before he can command it. 

His foot steps forward, his hands reach, and his mouth opens.

“Don’t play a hero, Toji.” You spit the words out bitterly, as if you cannot stand the taste of him anymore. “It doesn’t suit you.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you blink and your eyes begin to glisten in the firelight. Catastrophic amber set in your diamond-cut face. “If you’ve already decided, why can’t you just act on what you want?”

“Because what I want,” he murmurs slowly, fists clenching tightly as his sides, “is not the same as what’s best for you.”

Your head slants, just a fraction, and the corners of your eyes soften as you regard him. “Who are you to say what’s best for me?” Ducking his head, Toji squeezes his eyes shut and ignores all the voices in his head crowing at his stupidity. Every muscle in his body trembles as the grass crunches underneath a heavy foot, and when fingers brush delicately over his arms, he flinches back. “Toji.”

Tough, callused fingertips gently find his chin and tilt it up. His eyebrows knot together even tighter, and he jerks his head away but the hand is insistent, sliding along his jaw and pushing him back towards you.

“What I know is that the father of my child is the person best suited to protect me,” you utter with such misplaced conviction. Lips twisting into a pained scowl, he shakes his head. You cup his face, wrench his head so he is forced to look at you. A wet trail has carved a path down your cheek. His heart stutters in his esophagus. “You being here by my side in these damned woods makes me feel safer than if I were alone in some safe house because I trust you. Can’t you understand that?” Can’t you trust me, too?

The thing is, Toji has always trusted you. Had faith in you in a time when he didn’t believe in anything. The countless stitches that have been snipped by your scissors, and the gauze you’ve packed against his wounds are proof of all of that—invisible lines on his body that have healed perfectly because of your diligence and the long, pink scars in your absence weave a story he’s been writing for ages, but the endings diverge, and he tries to imagine both.

When you blink, another tear steadily traces the curve of your face, and he can’t stomach it. With a rough thumb, he swipes the tear away before grabbing you by your shoulder and yanking you into him.

Your arms immediately wrap around him, hooking on his shoulders. Holding the back of your head, Toji closes his eyes and buries his nose into the crook of your neck. Their bodies meld together, slot together like two pieces. As the fire begins to die and the smoke clears, clarity finally comes to him in the shape of that image again.

A child. A baby girl, Megumi’s sister.

“Take care of Megumi, okay?”

You had been right. His son has the Ten Shadows. If Toji sold him when the signs first showed up, he could’ve haggled enough to sate him for a lifetime. Why didn’t he?

Your lips brush the curve of his jaw as you let out a long exhale.

He can fool himself into thinking it’s because he wanted the certainty of knowing it’s truly the technique his family has been searching for, but it’s because he knows what princes are treated like in the Zen’in Clan. He wants the best for his son, really he does. He’d give it to him even if it meant he’d have to erase his blessing from his mind to make it happen.

But that possibility of you, out there, living a life he knows nothing about anymore.

Maybe that is the way. To keep his son happy, and to keep his son with him for the time-being.

Your fingers entrench into his shoulders hard enough to hurt. He runs a palm down your back before wrapping his arm around your waist. 

Toji wants to run. He wants to stay. He wants to make enough money to not worry about gambling debts, but he aches to see his son grow up. 

And, of course, now, he would like a daughter. He’s decided a daughter would be good, too, for the end.

“Do you think I don’t know what I am to you?”

Toji wonders if when you had asked that question, you had truly known his answer.

Only one way to to find out.

“Okay,” he finally whispers. Your head tilts inwards, your nose against the long cord of his neck. Your breathing is erratic, featherlight and hopeful as he closes his eyes. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

.

Three weeks later, a woman, a man, and a toddler boy walk past the torii of the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College. Despite the weapons trained on the man’s chest, he proposes calmly, almost arrogantly, a deal they’d be stupid to refuse. 

The service of the Sorcerer Killer in exchange for room and board for the three of them.

Yaga Masamichi accepts.

[tossawary]

I feel like I should be clear, as I poke and prod at all of the loose threads of various "Star Wars" media, and I say that this part or that part was bad or weak or frustrating, that I do genuinely like SW a lot. I think it's fun to examine the flaws (when I note that a character has personality flaws, that is not necessarily to say that I think this is a flaw in the writing), but there's a lot about it that I think is genuinely good. And not just because I first became enamored with magic laser swords as a small child and will always be fond of space operas with Muppets. (Look, I know Yoda isn't real. He's a puppet. I know this. But also, look at him!!! He's a person!!! Like Kermit the Frog!!!) Not just "SW would be so good if it was good" potentially good, but already strong and interesting and exciting!

(Admittedly, I keep thinking this, then I yet again stumble on some part of SW that's pretty rancid (the racist caricatures) or just kind of boring, and then it's like, "Oh, come on, I was JUST defending you!!! Stop betraying me this way!!!" There's a lot about it that's: "Yikes. Not cool." I don't think anyone needs to overlook those things.)

Trying to put my finger on the magic of SW for me is hard. My mind keeps going back to that Pratchett quote: "It's still magic even if you know how it's done." SW at this point is the work of thousands of artists. A labor of love for so many!!! (And just a job for others, but that's still effort!) Writers, actors, editors, costumers, makeup artists, puppeteers, set builders, matte painters, prop makers, musicians, foley artists, animators, illustrators, choreographers, stunt actors, game developers, and on and on, and science fiction and fantasy makes so much of their work even more obvious as they try to construct whole worlds, which often clash against each other. The creative strings of SW are so visible. They are shamelessly funky and weird and vibrant and working on rule of cool! What it does and what it's trying to do are right there to pluck! So reachable! You can really dig your hands into those plot holes! If you're an artist, the ancient, unwieldy movie magic giant that is SW kind of says to you, "Hey, you could do this too."

[fickleminder]

with you

I wrote this based on vibes alone. Viva la OM fandom.

“Keep running!”

It felt like you were dreaming. Everything was rushing past you in a blur as Mammon pulled you along by an iron grip on your hand. He’d always been the fastest of his brothers, but you had no clue what the cause of his panic was this time.

“They’re coming for us.” Lucifer answered your unspoken question, frustration laced in his curt words. “But we’ll make sure they don’t get you too.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked dazedly, still trying to understand what was happening. One moment you were minding your own business, the next the brothers were practically corralling you out of the house and towards who-knows-where. There was no warning, no fanfare, just a lot of urgency and confusion. “Who’s coming?”

“It’s the final boss! The one who’s been pulling all the strings from the start!” Levi wasn’t making any sense either. “So many plot holes, so many loose threads, and now they’re just gonna wipe the slate clean!”

“We’re getting you back to the human world. You have friends there, you’ll be okay.” Satan explained, oddly calm given the situation.

“But what about you guys?” The sinking feeling in your chest had reached your stomach. You felt as though you could puke from sheer stress alone, the way it seemed like they were saying goodbye. “And— and Diavolo, Barbatos, the angels—”

“They’ll meet us at the portal, so don’t stop working those legs honey!” Asmo tried to encourage you, his perfect smile straining against the exhaustion from keeping up with his brothers.

(“But Mephisto, Thirteen and Raphael—”

“Hush, Beel. MC doesn’t have to know they’re not coming. Not anymore.”

“…Okay.”)

The portal was wide open when you arrived. Diavolo and Barbatos greeted you with forced smiles which only made you freak out even more.

“Thank you for coming at such short notice,” Diavolo said, looking at you apologetically. “I’m sorry for not consulting you about our decision first, but desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Whatever this is, we can face it together!” You reasoned, not above begging at this point. “I can help—”

“You can help by staying safe,” Barbatos interrupted you with a rare frown, and that was the moment you realized things were going to shit. Whatever your expression was, it made the butler’s soften gently. “I’m afraid you’ll have to take care of yourself from now on.”

Two arms wrapped around your waist like a vice, and you looked down to see Luke squeezing you like his life depended on it. “Don’t forget, you have my blessing, so everything’s gonna be okay, you’ll see!”

“No more tears, lamb.” Simeon reached out to wipe away the wet tracks on your cheeks. You didn’t realize the waterworks had started. It was the slow, quiet kind that came with deep sorrow etched into your very bones. “We’ll see each other again. Please try to stay strong until then.”

Solomon held out his hand and you took it without hesitation, your trust in your mentor unwavering. “We’ll be with you, always. Your pacts, your memories, they can’t take those away from you.”

“You’re not coming with me?” Your voice wobbled despite your best effort.

He only gripped your hand tighter, and that was answer enough.

“It is time,” Lucifer murmured. Everyone gathered behind you as you stepped towards the swirling mass of magic. No matter how hard you willed them, your legs simply refused to obey your heart, trudging robotically into the light and away from your family and home.

This was wrong, this was all wrong, how were you supposed to keep going without them—

“Our love for you is Eternal,” was the last thing you heard before Solomon let go and everything went white.

[deathbystero]

'cause we're just kids who grew up way too fast

in which Ponyboy struggles to come to terms with everything. a/n - here's the full chapter y'all. lemme know if it's worth carrying on with and if you have any ideas on what I can do to extend the plot, feel free to request or give me some ideas

It’s only been a few weeks since that night—coming on three, to be exact. I don’t think things will ever go back to how they were; how could they? With Johnny and Dallas gone, everything feels off-kilter in some way. Like a loose thread just waiting to be pulled, ready to fall away and leave nothing but a gaping hole in its place. 

Home doesn’t feel like home anymore. Not really—not in the same way it was before. Things are a lot quieter. A lot emptier. I don’t think Darry minds all that much; an empty house is a peaceful house, even under all the unsettling tension. 

The gang feels a lot closer now, too. I suppose that’s one good thing about all of this, but nobody is quite themselves anymore. There isn’t as much energy in the air; there aren’t many laughs around anymore, and nobody smiles as often as they used to. It's like everyone is carrying around a weighty cloud on their shoulders, or maybe they’re just trying to keep their minds busy with something else. But we never talk about those days anymore; no one does. The topic makes us uncomfortable, like a wound that can never be healed. 

Maybe it’s just me who can’t get used to living without them. 

The nightmares still come every once in a while, more now than they used to. Sometimes they’re pretty bad—Johnny and Dallas making frequent appearances, their faces blurred, their voices distorted. Sometimes, I realise that I’m starting to forget the little things about them: the way Johnny would tilt his head a little to the left (or maybe it was to the right) when he was talking; the way Dallas would bite his lip when concentrating hard on something, even if he didn't seem to notice himself doing it. Everything seems to be slipping through my fingers faster than I can grasp, trying desperately to hold onto the memories, begging them not to fade away into the background. 

Maybe that’s why they haunt me so often: because I'm afraid—afraid that someday I won't remember them at all. 

Darry slept on the floor in my bedroom for a little while after that night, too scared to leave me alone after everything. He’s been doing that a lot lately, constantly checking up on me, even when I'm only in the next room over. Sodapop says it's because he's scared I’ll disappear again, which is ridiculous; I’ve got nowhere to run to, and even if I did, I doubt I’d want to anyway. Without Johnny to keep me company, I might as well be right here in Tulsa forever. 

There was never anything in the papers about Johnny and Dallas—at least not anything good. They don’t write editorials for “murderers” and hoodlums. Nobody would read them anyway. It would be a waste of ink, a waste of print, and a waste of paper. It’d just be another story about another couple of kids from the east side who wound up dead. No one would care. No one would even know what happened to them, not until somebody started asking questions, and even then, the truth would be twisted. Nobody knows what happened. Nobody but me. They can try to understand, just like Sodapop, Two-Bit,  Steve, and Darry have tried, but they won’t ever see it the same. Not like I do. 

For a long time after the incident, I tried convincing myself that Johnny wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be; you don’t just lose your closest buddy in one night. That doesn’t just happen. And yet, it had happened to me. 

To be truthful, I still don’t really believe that Johnny is dead. It’s stupid, irrational, and childish, but I can’t help but cling to that notion like my life depends on it. Maybe I'm losing it a bit, growing a little delusional. Darry seems to think so. Not a day goes by where he isn't telling me to “get my damn head out of the clouds” or to “get my act together."

I’m trying, really, I am, but sometimes it gets hard. The truth hurts too much. So I decided it was better to just pretend that it hadn’t happened. Pretend the entire mess never went down. That’s easier than confronting reality, even though I know there are some aspects of Johnny and Dallas’ deaths that are very, very real. Too real to be ignored. And it’s not like I can ignore it, can I? It’s part of me—a piece of me—a piece of my memory that I can never fully forget. I’ll just have to live with it.

That’s easier said than done, though.

[threerattsinatrenchcoat]

Raaaatt I wanted to ask sooner but I kept typing your Ao3 name instead and not finding you.

I see you've answered a lot but I think not these 3:

18. 27. 28.

18 share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a fic

I have so many of these! I keep all of it so I don't feel bad deleting them in the first place haha. And to reuse them, maybe!

---

"Good. Rub my orbuculum and I'll give you good fortune." (from wizard smut, of course)

---

(Talking about his time in Avernus)

Rolan even—don't tell Lia and Cal—left a few times on his own and talked himself up to any devil who would listen, taking the lessons they offered solely because they thought it was funny to indulge mortal pride.

---

(this is from an earlier version of Three/Four, when Lakrissa was really nihilistic. This is also a rough draft but I did like like "doesn't mean I want to start now")

"When I do, I'll rot. Every part of me, everything I did, who I really am, dissolves into the void. I return to what I was before I was born: nothing. This means I can do anything. No one will remember my successes, no one will remember my mistakes. I can even do nothing."

Alfira was listening, arms crossed.

Lips dry, Lakrissa continued, "Just because I believe what I do doesn't mean I want the rot to start now, while I'm still alive. There's still dinner to cook. There's still your music. Besides, I want to read Silfy's next newsletter. When nothing matters in 1,000 years, it makes me want to focus on the next five. Years, days, sometimes it's only hours. But I want, and I care."

---

(This one I'll probably reuse but at this exact moment it's deleted)

According to the woman running a con out front (at least until she tried to sell Olly a glass ring and found herself on the wrong end of two Zhentarim blades and one Zhentarim magic hand) the way to trick their mark was to have the room set up already. Don't approach her; have her approach them.

The con artist was kind enough to suggest a layout, and only after a few friendly smacks. Nice to meet another professional.

---

OK that's enough, sorry, I get excited.

27) favorite part of the writing process

I like the part where it's all flowing like ink, and there's a feedback loop between thinking and writing and putting down words just hypes me up for the next words. I get dizzy and amped up.

I also like when a story is waiting on me to figure out one key thing, and it all feels like it's pieces of separate fabric held together by loose thread, and then I find the missing thing and the thread pulls tight and it comes together. I don't get this on very often, but when I do it's incredibly satisfying

28) least favorite part

The slog of writing all the parts that aren't fun. Sometimes I wish I could write AND THEN TIME PASSED and we all just pretend the appropriate character development/plot/whatever happened, haha.

I also hate when I have something I like and realize I misread or misunderstood some lore or missed a plot hole that's a huge plot hole. Or bad pacing. Pacing is probably my weakest bit, I take 3 sentences to say the same thing over and over and sometimes I spend all day writing and only get a few hundred usable words.

[rayghosts]

i honestly think season 4 could have been fixed if they had the usual 10 episode run instead of 6 episodes, because then they could have gone into more depth about a lot of the missing details (spoilers below the cut)

like why ray left allison (i can see it happening if he knew what she did to bring him and claire back, except they never talk about it),

or devoting more time to building ben and jennifer's relationship (i thought they were cute, but everything went by pretty quickly so it felt a bit rushed),

or the fallout between five and diego after he cheated on his wife (which was a bold choice to go with in the first place, but putting it off to the second-to-last episode then having them die with unresolved feelings in the finale was worse),

or what happened to the other 35 superpowered kids (WHERE WAS SLOANE?),

or explaining viktor's struggle with keeping a girlfriend, or klaus's trouble with gangs, or when luther decided to give up on looking for sloane, or the fact lila's family is still alive in this timeline... or any of the other stuff they hinted at but didnt delve into, because it felt like there were sooo many loose plot threads they could have gone after but didnt

hell, i would have settled for adding more fight scenes or another dance scene (seriously, why have i not seen anyone complaining about the lack of dance scenes this season?)

everything felt way too packed this season, which was a shame because there were a lot of good scenes too. like the road trip episode? or the infinite fives cafe? or how GREAT the villains were this season? there were so many fun things i enjoyed, and i just wish the writers had more time to perfect everything and make the finale feel more satisfying instead of leaving it filled with holes like a swiss cheese. like i wouldnt even be mad if i didnt know that this was the last season and those details will stay missing forever (well, ok, the part where five cheats on diego's wife was unnecessary but still)

[orangemocharaktajino]

For a show that was bad pretty much from the beginning, Beyond the Star really outdid themselves by making the final episode so much worse than the rest. This was probably the worst final episode I've ever seen (other than MODC) and that's kinda impressive.

My toxic trait is if the NC scenes are good enough, I can forgive plot holes big enough to drive a bus through.

I loved Tonnam and Phupha, especially in episodes 6 and 7. And unfortunately that's where the fun ends because this bus is just too big.

I have been known to obsess over objectively bad shows before because my main goal as a viewer is entertainment. Sometimes bad writing and ridiculousness can be their own type of fun, imo.

I initially started watching Beyond the Star only because of Willi (Kita) who I loved in another high heat show with very questionable writing, Till the World Ends.

From the initial trailer of Beyond the Star, it seemed like the main storyline would be about twins Tin and Tul (played by actual twins and not simply one actor!) fighting over a man. Now, when I say man, I mean it because another thing that I was excited about initially was this cast's ages. The average age of the main cast is just shy of thirty years old which is something I would frankly love to see more of. Kind of weird for this to happen with a story about a new boyband, but hey.

The main characters and the ages of the actors who play them:

Kita - 34

Nathee - 27

Kengkla - 27

Namo - 26

Tonnam - 27

Phupha - 29

Trin - 30

Tul - 30 (obviously)

Copper - 30

Dance instructor Kawi - 30

CEO Araya - 33

CEO Kiat - 35

I didn't include the babies of the group Mawin (20) and Mangkorn (20) in this because I feel like we got more scenes of other characters explaining away their absence than we got scenes of them. They weren't even in the last two episodes at all so their story had absolutely no resolution.

Unfortunately that's kind of the case for most of the plot lines in this show. We had way too many characters with simultaneously too much going on and not enough going on. Way too much of the CEOs plotting only for them to inexplicably team up at the end. And way too much dance rehearsal footage that apparently needed to be shown instead. The last episode was chock full of loose threads.

I have so many questions

Why so many scenes of Nathee talking about how hot Kita's dad was when he was younger?

Why did they do Willi like this with this wig?

What happened with Kita and Nathee's relationship? Why did they have zero scenes in the finale?

What happened with Film's blackmail plot?

Why wasn't Nathee in the group at the end yet and previously disgraced Kita was?

What happened with Kita and Kawi being pissed about Kita's song being stolen?

Narrator: He did not deal with anything

Why wait until the very last episode to do anything with Tul and Tin and Copper? Okay, so Tul told Tin early on that he liked Copper. Tin agreed not to pursue Copper only to then immediately fuck him the very first chance he got? They decided to have a quickie in the bathtub while Tul was running a simple errand that he would be back from very soon? Not only did they not hurry, they didn't even close the fucking bathroom door????? Tul and Tin almost immediately made up after this even though apparently they already fought over a guy in the past?

Why did Kengkla even like Namo? Bro straight up told him his religious beliefs were stupid and they never really addressed this?

Did they break Namo's glasses during their sex scene? They showed Kengkla taking off Namo's glasses and putting them on the bed beside them and then a few seconds later they seemingly rolled over on them?

What was with Kengkla's pained expressions during their NC scene in the finale? Between that and Namo's unhinged smiling paired with the throat grabbing I couldn't tell what was supposed to be happening there. Kinky shit? Does Namo use cosmopolitan magazine's 2004 indian burn handie technique? Too much teeth? The possibilities are endless

Tell me this man isn't Bajoran though with his religious devotion, nose bridge wrinkles, and dangly earrings

Why even include the suicide attempt plot line? The whole thing was infuriating but especially them patting themselves on the back for solving Tonnam's suicidal tendencies by comforting him in the hospital?

You don't have to be sad buddy, you've improved as a dancer!

Narrator: It was not resolved

Also, here's where I have to admit I gave the writing team too much credit. I repeatedly thought that scenes were surely included for a bigger narrative purpose but that was overwhelmingly not the case.

In earlier episodes they showed a hidden camera in one of the rehearsal rooms at the agency that was, unbeknownst to the boys, streaming online. When they showed Phupha and Tonnam about to get it on at the agency and Tonnam specifically said he was worried about being seen, I thought that they were maybe going to be unknowingly exposed online and cause a huge scandal. When I saw the promo for the finale where it showed Tonnam on the ground with pills all around him, I thought for sure that was where they were going. I thought it was a little late for a big plot point like that but oh, how little I knew.

Why have Kengkla asking repeatedly why they're focusing so much on singing and dancing when he wants to be an actor only to have him turn down the acting job so he can be in a different boyband at the end?

Bad writing, bad directing, bad editing, bad pacing, bad dancing (perplexingly shown in slow motion which only exacerbated the lack of sync), bad singing, no character development, way too much focus on the two rival CEOs who are the producers of the show which explains so much.

The workshops must have been good though because the chemistry was the rare positive. Kita and Nathee had a few good scenes and I loved Tonnam and Phupha (except in the finale which I'm going to forget I ever watched). The kissing in the NC scenes was good all around but the lack of direction was pretty apparent. Lots of up and down and back up kind of aimlessness with too much position switching. It seemed like the actors were giving it their best but weren't given any specific instructions and were just kind of stalling until they heard cut.

The intro was catchy but I can't say the actual group they apparently built this show around promoting (in the most roundabout weird way) doesn't leave a bad taste in my mouth because of this mess.

Don't watch this unless you want to try your hand at the world's least efficient way to learn the numbers 1-8 in Thai

Or you know, maybe you could just skip around to the good parts

May these guys find better writing in their next projects

Sadhu

[greenflamedwriter]

HP au

Since a03 is down HERES a little something :D Enjoy.

Harry Potter AU with Binghe/QIngqiu. Its Cang Qiong school [like hogwarts] with the four houses slytherin etc but the ministry of magic is Huan Hua. And Yue Qingyuan is the headmaster. So Shen Qingqiu [slytherin] bullies and abuses Luo Binghe the kid one year younger and then Binghe gets powerful and then takes his revenge by killing and tortuing his childhood bully.

So of course Shen Yuan dies and gets drop kicked into this HP fanfiction ):

Shen Yuan transmigrated into Shen Qingqiu the rival of Luo binghe inthe opposing house of slytherin to his Griffendor. He was doomed! after Binghe’s rise to power he tortures Shen Qingqiu in the worse way making him wish for death. Binghe's use of leglimency destroys Shen Qingqiu’s mind better and leaves him a husk thats only AFTER his limbs had been ripped off. well better than Shang Qingqiu, who ends up chocking himself to death from mobei juns curse.

Already they were in fifth year and after another year Luo binghe will fall into the abyss during the triwizard tournament, it wasn’t the school years that was the worst, it’s what came after at the ministry of Huan hua.

Luo Binghe would become the new chief warlock and minister and to do that needed a lot of votes so he ended up needing most of the seats of the ministry lords and ladies not only becoming powerful and destroying Shen Qingqiu’s reputation he became a powerful dark wizard. And there were so many loose threads of potential! but that hack writer was always inconsistent, creating plot holes and problems then ignoring it! Airplane should spend less time on Twitter and more focused on this mess of a magical fantasy world!

Poly juice potion! Easily made by third years and yet bypasses the ministry of magic when Luo Binghe and Liu Mingyan pretended to be important figure heads and -you guessed it- stole important and classified documents!

Thank god the bank was run by demons! At least their money was safe along with the cursed artefacts it was protected! If cultivators were in charge all of them would be bankrupt! 

And now here he was staring at the small white lotus before him. Luo Binghe was on his hands and knees bullied and humiliated in front of all of his peers. Shen Qingqiu cursed, it was too late he had been abusing Binghe his whole childhood if he acted nice now it would be ooc!

And Binghe’s eyes flashed with hatred as Ming Fan laughed mockingly, Shen Qingqiu grimaced although it looked like a sneer at Binghe but truthfully. Ming fan was in a world of hurt. This was when everything went downhill for Shen Qingqiu when he started getting his karma and Shen Yaun rotted for it. Now that he WAS the character he knew he had to avoid his fate.

“Enough, you’ve tortured the beast enough.” Shen Qingqiu walked away and of course Ming fan would follow now that left it up for one of Binghe’s ladies to find him. 

During his time trying to find a way to FIX this mess he ends up finding airplane who looks pretty bullied by Mobei-jun. Shen Qinqiu pressed him up against the wall of the boys toilets stalls. “You have to get me out of this! It’s your dumbfuck writing that landed me here!”

“Hey I’m in here too! My death is just awful!” Shen Qingqiu scowled then closed his eyes, “If you help me, I’ll keep you away from Mobei-jun and break that curse.” Shang Qinghua looked relieved and decided to tell Shen Qingqiu ‘everything’ about his draft and plot lines and where they were going to go. Turns out airplane had been in this world longer so he figured out early on it would go with his original script and not the one he settled on to pay the bills.

“Why are you avoiding a-Lou?” Ning Yingying asked and Shen qingqiu grimaced turns out he had his own bully qui jianlou who was also nicknamed a-Lou and it triggered Shen Qingqiu of his past.

Also, the reason Shen Qingqiu bullied Binghe was because he had a crush on Ning Yingying although Shen Yuan never saw the appeal and also trying to go after Binghe’s ladies is a no- no!

And he could see he was stressing binghe out not attacking him, the waiting and anticipation probably had his nerves on edge the poor thing.

His response was so crazy it might work hopefully Luo binghe may understand and be disgusted and want to avoid him maybe if Shen Qingqiu plays it up in the torture later on it might make Luo Binghe back off? Who knows it was worth a try.

“I like him.” Shen Qinqiu spoke “An infatuation that I misinterpreted as loathing sometimes you get the two confused.” Ning Yingying blinked “You know pulling pigtails? You tease or bully someone you like?”

She puffed her cheeks “that’s not very nice! And it’s not true you’ve never expressed any interest in a-Lou like that!”

“Well I would never treat someone I love like that but the thing was a-Ning I didn’t know! Now that I understand what those feelings are I’m ashamed, and I do know a lot about Binghe.” He spoke nose in the air. And Ning Yingying placed her hands on her hips eyes narrowed.

“What’s his favourite colour?”

“Red, he wears it in his wardrobe all the time and if not that then Black.” Because of his poor upbringing he couldn't experiment on colours and always settled on black, it was easy to clean as well.

She blinked not expecting that, then began to question Shen Qingqiu on everything he knew about Luo Binghe and he answered every single one. He was a binghe stan and read these books religiously and battled many a troll online he can recite Binghe’s introduction chapter by heart! 

And Ning Yingying watched how he grew more animated and passionate as he listed of each question he knew Binghe’s favourite food [the same one as his mothers meal that he cooked for her and she smiled and complimented him and it was plain congee, which he feeds his ladies with all the time and yet each one never appreciated it or cared to understand the signifigance] his best friends, his favourite subject his least favourite subject.

“It’s charms which makes sense since he’s-“ he cut himself and remembered Luo Binghe would probably see these memories in a pensive, he grimaced when he realised how uch he was geeking out.

Ning Yingying watched how Shen Qingqiu stood up straighter clearing his throat as if he wasn't just waxing poetry about Binghes hair. The thing is the wizarding world was sensitive to certain topics such as dark light and nuetral wizards. Dark wizards were ostricised and looked down on for being evil. And since Shen Qingqiu is from a dark family and an advocate for it is obviously the villain while Binghe is a prophosised chosen one. Luo Binghe had little romps through the castle stealing a pensive and using it. And if it came to light that Luo Binghe was a dark wizard well-

Oh it was a shock to him too airplane called it irony, that Shen Qingqiu the first son of a line of dark witches and wizards had a light core because it was revealed that he was a bastard and would soon be disowned for being a light wizard. Unable to continue that line meanwhile binghe the champion of the light was in fact a dark core wizard because of his father Tianglang-Jun jun who was currently in Azkaban.

 Charms was a light subject while defense or actual dark arts itself was obviously dark. Luo binghe was going against his core and if it goes on for too long may end up destroying it. Hence the abyss he learns that little secret and ends up becoming all powerful and over turning the Huan hua masters and overtaking Cang Qiong school and changing the subjects to be more aligned with the proper cores.

One person had almost destroyed their core by two opposing sides using the wrong magic that rebounded, Liu Qingge. Who was currently in a coma in the medical bay being looked after by their professors. He would’ve been moved the Qian Co peak to be monitored by mediwitches but Mu Qingfan moved into the school personally so to make it easier for school mates and Liu Mingyan to visit her brother since there was nothing they could do for him but wait for him to wake up.

Of course Shen Qingqiu must have murdered Liu qinnge in his sleep and airplane said; “Nope all me, to frame Shen Qingqiu as public enemy number one away from the obviously suspicious me. But this time I won’t do that so Liu Qingge will wake up and tell everyone it was ‘him’ that did a dodgy spell and not you!” 

Yes the reason that Shen Qingqiu wasn’t suspended after their duel was because they couldn't take the other side of the story innocent until proven guilty.

Blame Yue Qingyuan for that, the headmaster of Cang Qiong. Their was a weird relationship between him and Shen Qingqiu and airplane told him it’s better if he didn’t know he’ll tell him depending on if they live or not.

 Which wasn’t reassuring.

“Ming fan stop bullying the beast, it’s just depressing at this point. We’re fifth years it’s time to act our age.” Ming fans face fell “Of course Shen -shixiong.”

How he got followers is beyond him, his Ning Yingying is his friend was also puzzling.

And he could see Luo Binghe’s glower.  _________________________________________________________

“A little birdie told me you had a crush on me.” Shit.

Keeping his expression blank he calmly replied “Yes? What of it?”

“It seems unfair that I was faced with so much abuse over something so trivial, I deserve compensation.” 

Shen Qingqiu sneered “as if, this one can’t take back everything he’s done. So what do you want?”

“Well I was just wondering what if you were lying? Just to avoid all the consequence of bullying me?” Shen Qingqiu Definitely wilted in guilt. “I’m sorry.”

That seemed to shock Luo binghe at the apology but Shen qinqiu meant it. Luo binghe didn’t deserve any of that.

 Also how crappy is this situation? If binghe even believed it or returned his feelings that is borderline abusive and a dash of Stockholm syndrome if Shen qinqiu was reading this he would spit blood!

Although Luo binghe did have some questionable wives who were just as cruel then became his ladies to his lord so maybe binghe would be into it-

He kissed him, Shen Qingqiu made a startled noise at the back of his throat as binghe kissed him and- and- he was good at it! So binghe already had some ladies under his belt, good for him!

And Shen Qingqiu moaned, melting into a puddle like putty in Binghe’s hands, he was really good at this. Shen Qingqiu eyes slid shut deepening the kiss and following Binghe and chasing him when he pulled back until the kiss broke.

Oh he had to prove it. They had to pretend.

“D-don’t mess with my feelings if you don’t mean it.” Shen Qingqiu scowled, face flushed red and he was fighting to calm down and not feel so hot. “Likewise.”

So pretend dating. He could do this, when binghe took his hand as both slytherin and griffendors were paired he stiffened then scowled pulling at Binghe’s hand under the table. Binghe had his other hand in his cheek looking up at Shen Qingqiu, he hadn't had his growth spurt yet and Shen Qingqiu knew when Luo Binghe got bigger and towered over him Shen QIngqiu became more irritated and lashed out more in fear as well as envy.

 “Surely this looks worse, Qingqiu.” 

Huh? He looked at him oddly, how was it worse? He glanced at their shared hands then looked back up “Uh, how is it worse?” he still didn't understand, Binghe looked delighted and leaned close to whisper in his ear “hands under the table to do strange things,” Binghe’s hand moved to Shen Qingqiu’s thigh although they were still holding hands so Shen Qingqiu’s was taken along for the ride and it still didn’t make sense to him.

“Or this,” then Binghe moved their combined hands closer to the inside and Shen Qingqiu snatched his hand back his ears red “Shamless.” He hissed beneith his breath.

Binghe was mocking him but this was fine he could do this. Better than the alternative.

Unaware that binghe had learned. Leglimency early on practising with his ladies and more contact with someone the more he can use it without sharing eye contact and since Shen Yuan was new to the magical world didn’t know when someone’s mind brushed against his and had no defences and was an open book.

_________________________________________________________

As Luo Binghe is now suspicious of Shen Qingqiu he, with his invisibilty cloak takes Liu Mingyan and Ning Yingyin as they follow Shen Qingqiu as he disapears at odd hours. It's suspicious.

So, As they follow him and Shen Qingqiu is going through secret turns and loops in the castle that even they didn't know about startle to see him going towards the medical ward.

And see him approach Liu Qingge's bed.

Liu Mingyan almost exposed them so Luo Binghe grabbed her arm keeping her still.

Truthfully Liu Mingyan visits her brother all the time and swore to avenge him and expose Shen Qingqiu as a murderur. Yet each time she visits her brother always has fresh flowers, she assumed it was Mu Qingfan or some student who idolised her brother but truthfully he didn't have many friends.

So the three watch in stunned fascination as Shen Qingqiu disposed of the flowers Liu Mingyan almost snarled before freezing when Shen Qingqiu reached into a bag and pulled out a fresh batch of flowers to place beside the bed.

And his face, Shen Qingqiu looked miserable. Alone in the ward he had no need for pretense. And yet he scratched his neck as he gazed down at Liu QIngge.

"You need to wake up you know. And cut down on the beatuy sleep you're already too beautiful." He spoke reaching out and taking Liu Qingge hand. He looked awkward and irritated.

"I still not used to this- and don't laugh at me!" Shen Qingqiu growled out glaring at the sleeping man "Muggle's spoke about talking to comotase patients and that sometimes they can hear them." He rubbed his thumb against a pale calloused hand that barely responded.

Shen Qingqiu sighed closing his eyes "This is stupid."

But he kept talking, about his day, his spells how Liu Qingge should hurry up and wake up.

"They think I'm going to hex them every time I walk past and yet it was you or tried a spell that was not in lign with your core but no your Liu Qingge you don't listen to reason."

Shen Qingqiu waited and only watched the steady rise and fall of the others chest.

"The more you lay asleep on this bed like the useless shidi you are, the worse it'll be." Shen Qingqiu pressed his lips together looking more and more irritated.

"Liu Mingyans in danger." He spoke with a smirk on his face as he leaned closer, "If you don't wake up I'll hurt her. And it'll be your fault because you decided to lie in instead. I'll do it, it'll be so easy. And you will just let it happen."

And the strangest thing happened.

Liu Qingge's hand twitched.

The three watched stunned as Shen Qingqiu gaped then with new vigor leaned closer "I'm going to do it Liu Qingge, you'll wake up and find out your little sister is dead because of me. The scum villain." He spoke energetic "It'll be so easy, I'll just use polyjuice potion and pretend to be someone she knows someone familiar and lead her out to a secluded area I'll even use that persons wand."

His face truly looked monstrous, like a villain and yet it was all said to wake up Liu Qingge. Because he knew his brother would do anything for his sister.

The things he said was in contrast to his actions and instead of exposing or revealing any answers of Shen Qingqiu only raised more questions.

And Liu Mingyan watched as how Liu Qingge brow furrowed and how even Shen Qingqiu held his breath a genuine smile on his face waiting for Liu Qingge to wake up-

But nothing.

Shen Qingqiu slumped in disapointment. Still holding Liu Qingges hand in a vice like grip.

"Maybe you don't care about her, huh?" he tried one more time but nothing.

Shen Qingqiu scrubbed his face then flinched when he felt something behind him.

"You are doing well, Shen Qingqiu. Talking helps the both of you and this master knows Liu Qingge will wake up in his own time."

Shen Qingqiu looked away "But what if he doesn't? this- does it even work?" Shen Qingqiu asked ripping his hand away and looking up at Mu Qingfan.

The Medi-wizard sighed and looked down "Magic is...a delicate thing. And is very unpredictable the only thing we can do is observe and wait."

"Damn this Shidi of mine, casuing everyone grief...he responded a little at one point."

"Oh? What happened?"

Shen Qingqiu turned around leaning his arms over the chair and resting on it "I threatened his sister, I thought he was going to wake up."

The wizard nodded "Maybe that might wake him up, if Liu Qingge could hear and has some awarness it might give him the push to wake up. Liu Mingyan visits but she never speaks if she keeps consistent it might reinforce that something is wrong. It might wake Liu Qingge."

Shen Qingqiu nodded.

"There's only so many times I can threaten Liu Mingyans life..." Shen Qingqiu joked but still looked hopeless.

Luo Binghes hand clenched against the fabric as he gestured for the others to go.

missing the next interaction.

"You will end up like Liu Qingge if you continue on like this."

Shen Qingqiu looked away "This one has no clue on what you are reffering to Mr Mu."

"Liu Qingge has a nuetral core and tried a very powerful light spell. Thats what made him end up in this state. Your home studies and dark arts could land you in the same boat." Shen Qingqiu tensed "This student-"

"You are a light wizard, Shen Qingqiu. Not a dark or even nuetral. A pure light wizard and if you continue to do spells not alligned with your core then being bed ridden may not be the worse of it."

Shen Qingqiu sighed "This one would gladly but- it's impossible. My family are trying to salvage the dark arts- not all of it is evil!" Take a look at Luo Binghe! In his adventures he's always used his powers for good and to protect his wives!

"If it came out that their son is a light wizard- it doesn't matter if I'm related or not they'll spin it that any one can magically change their cores and alligment it'll reflect badly on the community."

Mu Qingfan sighed "I can't force you, but only in lessons but if you can help it never perform any dark art spells. And take this if you're going to damage your body." Shen Qingqiu blinked at the potion.

"Take that twice morning and night. it'll keep you stable." Shen Qingqiu blinked "I- thank you...and thank you for beliving me and letting me visit Liu-shidi."

Mu Qingfan shrugged "I'm a doctor I knew what happened from the lab results, but this one can't reveal the information as its client confidentialty and only Liu Qingge could reveal his core and story if he wants to."

Shen Qingqiu nodded in other words Mu Qingfan would love to put the rumours to rest that Shen Qingqiu was innocent. But with Yue Qingyuan being so biased and if Mu Qingfan showed no evidence then they would assume that Shen Qingqiu was manipulating them to get away with murder!

____________________________________________________________

In potion lessons, Shen Qingqiu sneers "Honestly? You have been a student this long?" He noticed Luo Binghe stiffen and moved towards the other moved bhind him as he leaned over Binghes shoulder and took his hands and guided them.

He began to cut the ingredients the right way and even the timing on when to place them in "Remember to crush these not to cut them-" He spoke then tsked in Luo Binghes ear as the other was stood frozen.

"You can cook- I fail to understand how you can be this incompetent at potions." Shen Qingqiu bemoaned, this was because of that stupid fake potions book wasn't it!?

As Shen Qingqiu moved to his own cualdron, he let his thoughts run wild and Binghe was listening to everyone of them.

Damn those brats, Binghe had great potential and they sabotaged him. oh look there he goes.

Luo Binghe listened to his guidance and started treating potions like he did cooking ignoring the book and listening to his instincts instead.

look, he's a natural! of course Binghe is the best and could excel at anything he chooses too but people are so jelaous they have to hold him back! Such a waste!

But there are times when Binghe pretends to be stupid! I can see you, y'know that white lotus act doesnt work on me, protagonist!

Shen Qingqiu sounded annoyed and was even taking it out on his potions. He was really passionate about Luo Binghes wasted potential.

He heard Shen Qingqiu sneer "Was it that hard to be competent?" He asked with a raised eyebrow as Luo Binghes potion passed with flying colours for once.

Of course he's competent, Binghe is amazing. If he wanted to could wipe the floor with anyone here including me! Shen Qingqiu thought looking at his cauldron and Binghe felt his ears flush red.

"Beast- why is your face red?" Shen QIngqiu spoke ah I hate calling him that! but he'll find it suspicious if I stop now- and I cant call him Binghe its too shameful! i don't deserve to call him that, after what I did.

"Are you allergic? Do we need to call Qingfan?" He asked his tone was devoid but Binghe could see the worry.

He's not sick is he- is Binghe even allergic to anything? Does he know? Maybe we can get him tested he was muggle-raised he wouldn't have HAD the wizard vaccines for dragon pox and kneazles shit!

Shen QIngqiu was starting to sound more panicked but Luo Binghe watched in slow motion as Shen Qingqiu placed a hand over his forehead "You're not running a fever..."

Luo Binghe took his hand "This one is fine- just..." Binghe looked away.

"Can you stop calling me that?"

"Hmm? Call you what?"

"Beast, I have a name."

He noticed the relief as the other found himself easily agreeing just as uncomfortable with the name as Binghe was and yet...it started to change. Binghe was almost seeing it as a term of endearment and never bothered to correct it.

But it obviously bothered him.

"Call me Binghe. We are together aren't we?" Binghe asked squeezing Shen Qingqiu hand before relaxing. Now it was Shen Qingqiu's turn to flush.

"I-you, shamless!" He ripped his hand away and went back to his cauldron grabbing his book...that was upset down and Shen Qingqiu eyes were laser focused on the writing.

But clearly not reading it.

I cant call him that- too informal! too close I don't deserve it! Shameful! Only his girlfriends call him that! and this- this isn't, he's just testing me because its pretend!

Ah, Luo Binghe leaned closer "Qingqiu." The other stiffened as he spoke in his ear "Your book is upside down." Shen Qingqius face exploded red.

Binghe was disapointed the first time he heard Shen Qingqiu call it pretend he thought it was another form of bullying. Until he heard his thoughts. Shen Qingqiu liked him and that was the truth, and honestly thought Binghe was playing with him.

But the best part was how even Shen Qingqiu thought if he liked guys, hypothetically and dated it would take him months maybe even years to get the courage to hold someones hand. His last girlfriend took ages to kiss and then weeks later they broke up.

Pretending made his Shizun a bit more forward, too thin face. But to not be caught in the 'lie' ended up inniciating a lot more. Luo Binghe sat back down, his palm on his cheek as he watched his flustered shixiong. Luo Binghe was observent and had noticed how other students older and younger would act towards people they liked.

And Binghe was slowly starting to accept the truth that Shen Qingqiu truly had no idea, misplaced loathing for loving. Luo Binghe scowled when he thought of the relationship he had with the headmaster, Shen Qingqiu was just as prissy and even yelled at the teacher in front of others. And yet he saw the two always going to the office or having tea together in the mornings.

Just what was their relationship?

He couldn't read Yue Qingyuans mind, for some reason his mind was very strong and not easy to gain access into, when his eyes locked onto Binghes he immiedtly backed off and never tried again.

Luo Binghe still hadn't forgiven Shen Qingqiu at first but then noticed the other actually stick up for Luo Binghe and even told his followers to back off. For the first time Luo Binghe was able to just...be at Cang Qiong and learn without worrying about someone trying to hurt him and the more time he spent with Shen Qingqiu the less he was bothered.

...it was nice.

He didn't want to forgive Shen Qingqiu but he could see he was trying, and even went out of his way to help Luo Binghe. He even secretly left the castle with Binghe to get him his wand.

Shen Qingqiu told him to shut up as he payed for it, as Luo Binghe could never afford his own wand and had to get it cheap or second hand, of course Shen Qingqius thoughts were crying for Binghe.

No wonder he was behind! Imagine the power he has with an actual wand that works for him!

Something tells Binghe that maybe the reason Shen Qingqiu was frustrated with him, was how weak and pitful he was as a kid but knew he was a strong and powerful wizard. Then once he realised WHY Binghe was doing so poorly went out of his way to fix it and the weirdest part?

Luo Binghe soaked up the praise and actually wanted to TRY and be better, he never cared for school before but now he actually tried.

When he showed his homework to Shen Qingqiu for pointers the other sniffed "Adequete."

Luo Binghe is amazing! Look how much he's improved even his penmenship has gotten better! Thats my Binghe the smartest student in this school!

Luo Binghe, may have became obsessed to the point of even neglecting his girlfriends. He never told Shen Qingqiu and his girls never minded either they were just happy to be a part of his life and didn't mind sharing.

And Ning Yingyin was his first with Liu Mingyan his second then Sha Hualing came after, and the thing was...they reminded him of Shen Qingqiu. His explosive temper could rival the demon saintess, the way he was cold and aloof and barely spoke like Liu Mingyan or when he genuinly cared and only wanted what was best for binghe he was smart Shen Qingqiu but at times came across as naive he had some strengths but understanding people? That was his weakness. Like Ning yingying.

And to think if it wasn't for her, Luo Binghe may have missed this.

________________________________________________________

On another adventure to expose Shen Qingqiu, he found out he was having private lessons away from the school in a hidden underground classroom.

Probably indoctirating his followers, even though they were dating and Luo Binghe found himself liking Shen Qingqiu of all people he still didn't trust him.

Luo Binghe was the chosen one he was told that as soon as he entered the wizarding world but at what? He still didn't understand it or what people wanted from him and Shen Qingqiu was his enemy. Almost all the adults around them told them that.

Shen Qingqiu was scum, evil and cruel and Luo Binghe was their saviour.

So when he and Ning Yingying entered the room, both Shen Qingqiu and they were surprised. It was a classroom with Shen Qingqiu teaching spells on a chalkboard.

This couldn't be it...right?

"Ah can I help you?" He seemed flustered a little and Luo Binghe smiled. "Not at all, this one heard you were giving lessons, and both Ning Yingying and I were wondering if we could join your study group."

"Piss off, Griffen, go away." Ming Fan growled but Shen Qingqiu spoke "Theres no need, you can stay. Pull up a chair."

Ming fan do you have a death wish!? and Ning yingying is right there! How are you expected to gain her attention while being a dick to her best friend honestly? Well, I never choose him as a friend for his brains.

"Now, that we've learned about the dangers of polyjuice potion and the petrificus totalus-"

"Is it true that you can use that to...do something to someone?"

"Like sexual assualt? Possibly." "And obliviate could remove such a memory?" The girl asked petrified "Yes, hyopthetically- are you okay?" He asked noticing her pale "How would you know?"

"Check a medi-wizard. They are well equipped with such things." He spoke no nonsense.

Luo Binghe felt Ning Yingying squeeze his hand almost horrified.

Luo Binghe was too, not once had he even considered such a thing...and these were light spells?

"Now onto Cores." Shen Qingqiu waved his wand and three chalkboards appeared with the chalks moving simultainlously to create illustrations, others awed at the talent of such a feat. Even Luo Binghe was watching.

Shen Qingqiu caught his eye then flushed looking away luckily as he was done as some chalk faltered in his hold. This is nothing! Binghe can do that and more!

"Now," he pointed to the middle board that had a venn diagram of Dark, Nuetral, Light with nuetral overlapping with too.

"Every witch or wizard has a core. you are born with such core and cannot change it, thats a myth going directly against your core could damage your meridians."

A hand raised "Whats meridians?"

"Its your magical veins in your body, squibs are usually people born unlucky, most are witches or wizards who have lost their magic and thats what a squib is a mage who has lost their magic."

"Then why aren't we taught this?" "Power in ignorance I imagine. Now Nuetral users can use only basic light or dark magic. Same as how dark and light can use nuetral" he circled an area and Luo Binghe realised it was in layers, like a number system.

Dark being 5, 4 3. Nuetral being 4, 3, 2 and with Light being 3, 2, 1

"So there are spells that all cores share, a 3 type spell such as alohamora. Why is that?"

"It unlocks doors so...an action spell?"

"Yes, spells that have no gain nor energy, even levitation is a 3 spell. But what can you tell me about the patronus charm?" "That its difficult?"

"Exactly its a light charm against dark creatures such as dementors. Now why do you struggle with it?"

"Because we're dark witches." The others stared and realised thats why they've been failing most of their lessons. Shen Qingqiu nodded "Exactly, this school curriculumn in all of china by the laws is only allowed to study light magic only."

"But- it'll make us lose our magic!" One cried and Shen Qingqiu nodded "They won't see the harm. If dark magic dies out only light magic will remain. So much has been lost for these new laws such as the Parcel tongue ability. And parcel tongue was the last of witches talking to creatures there were others who could speak to all manor of animals not just snakes. And now such an ability is gone, others who can shapeshift, veelas who can charm and bewitch so much gone. Because of ignorance."

There it was, the dark magic properganda.

"But I don't struggle?" A hand rose and Shen Qingqiu smiled "Maybe it might be that you are not a dark wizard?"

"No I am! My family is I'm a dark wizard!"

"Its okay, its okay!" Shen Qingqiu panicked at the sight of tears and flipped a board "See- Wei Wuxian is a prime example of why we can't change our cores and his input is important!"

"Wei Wuxian? That traitor? He deviated to the light side!"

Shen Qingqiu shook his head "I have letters," he flicked his wand and a ton of paper appeared and floated towards each student in the class.

"Most stole his work and research or even censcored the tomes he created, he wanted to appeal but they said they wouldn't publish unless these corrections were made. Here is the passages and theories he wanted to write. Currently his husband is fighting the freedom of speech amendment at the Huan Hua palace."

"Who?" "Hanguang-Jun."

There was silence "But hes a LIGHT wizard!" Shen Qingqiu nodded full on beaming "He was seen as a pillar for the rightous and active fighter for the light side, others think he's been bewitched by Wei Wuxian but hes the only one fighting alongside other dark witches and wizards for the right of dark magic being explored."

"But Wei Wuxian says that resentment is pure dark and shouldn't be tampered with."

"Wei Wuxian is a nuetral Core."

He didn't think he could keep shocking them "What he meant was as a nuetral wizard who had already damaged his meridians with pure light magic couldn't contain the dark resentment of the dark and ended up overtaxing his core. He almost died if it wasn't for Lan Wangi, now he's a squib whose lost all magical ability." And to think airplane left this out, if he hadn't listened to the rat and sent out letters inquiring about cores with the great demonic cultivator he wouldn't have found all this out.

"Wei Wuxian was an advocate for the dark side as he was best friends with Lady Wen. A dark witch who speicilised in medicine she almost lost all of her research by light wizards if it wasn't for the Grandmaster of demonic cultivation. Both worked together and he decided to be a test subject to investigate further into core magic. Core's are private there is a law that you can't reveal your core to anyone unless you have explicit permission from that person. Even medical witch and wizards cant tell anyone that a client has damaged their cores thus keeping it more silent from the wizarding world."

A hand raised "How can we check our cores so we don't lose our magic?"

"Well, I have just the thing here." Shen Qingqiu began to put on gloves and went over to retrieve something a crystal ball.

"Now this, is a magic glass that clouds with smoke. Black, grey and white. If you touch it, it'll show you your core."

"Now there is a curtain here if you want to do it privately, or if others don't mind sharing can come up now as I prepare the curtain. Don't all touch it at once or it'll get confused. One at a time."

He moved away to fix the curtain as others stood up walking towards the ball.

"Mines nuetral...but my parents told me I was dark?"

"Even the dark familys will also want their children to be dark they will disown any who have otherwise. They know how the light wizards will spin it that the dark are forcing their children to learn dark arts against their core and may even take them away deeming them unfit." The boy looked horrified as did the others.

Ning Yingying shook her head "They wouldn't!"

"Seen Wei Wuxian? The prodijy? How fast was he cast out when he began demonic cultivation." Ming Fan spoke and she deflated. She placed her hand on the orb and it was pure white. Of course. Ming Fans was grey.

And others began most pitch black but a small few were grey.

"Qingue-shixiong? What spells are grey and what spells are dangerous?"

Shen Qingqiu paused the curtain set up "I-I don't really know, no one has documented them. I could only guess so far."

"Then...then why don't we do it? You have a researcher who can help as well!"

"i don't know- we are not doing wei wuxian is doing we cant damage our bodies for this."

"It's going to happen anyway, in lessons we'll write down which magic was hard to do and which was easier and if anything hurts."

Shen Qingqiu pinched the bridge of his nose "I'll inform Mu Qingfan. Better to have a mediwizard on hand."

Once they were done and all students left Luo Binghe stayed behind.

Shen Qingqiu was avoiding his eyes, "Luo Binghe, can I help you?"

"To think this was where you were sneaking off too..." He raised his wand and Shen Qingqiu stiffened "Binghe?"

Why's he pointing it at me? Is he going to hurt me- why I didn't do anything I thought we were friends-

"Petrificus totallus."

Shen Qingqiu seized and fell backwards unable to even cry out but Luo Binghe caught him before his head could crack against the stone floor like an egg.

"There is something I want to try."

Shen Qingqius eyes followed him, his heartbeat thumping in his ears.

Luo Binghe picked up the glass and paused as it turned Pitch black and hummed "Thats peculiar."

Shen Qingqius eyes widened he wasn't-

no- no he can't find out! its too early! If this secret came out his life would be ruined!

"here, can you hold this," he placed the ball on the ground and raised Shen Qingqius hand, the other kept staring at Binghe Please- please don't-

His hand touched glass and a bright light filled the room.

Shen Qingqiu shut his eyes, and the spell released as he was unfrozen and snatched his hand away and scrambled back.

Luo Binghe was blinded covering his eyes as he looked up and Shen Qingqiu punched him in the face.

"Fuck you, and to think your nothing more than a beast!" He hadn't meant to say that but he was angry even shattered the glass ball of course he directed the glass away from Binghe. He hated him right now but he didn't want him hurt!

He stomped away missing the dazed look on Binghes face as a cupped his cheek.

Luo Binghe may have realised he went too far. But Shen Qingqiu...was a very powerful light wizard...

Shen Qingqiu gets a howler acts calm and collected but then ends up crying in the bathroom.

 Binghe finds him, comforts him but finds himself liking Shen Qingqiu when he’s crying a deep part still hurt by him finding sick delight from all the times Shen Wingqiu bullied him.

 It was poetic karma.

 But Shen Qingqiu didn’t care about his family, he looked at Binghe perplexed and admitted it wasn’t his family- he’s effectively homeless. Someone of high standing having to live off the streets and he only had a few months left of school.

 “I don’t know what the do,” he admitted “I already have a summer job at Knockturn, so at least I have some income and hopefully it’d be enough. Sure I wanted to move out-  but I thought I had time to prepare at least.”

And even so what if that money wasn’t enough?

 He doubted it. He can’t afford a place to stay and eat and the same time not to mention he’d be buying his own school robes or he’d have to rewear these and hope the school doesn’t accidentally change their uniform.

He remembered so many parents buying those stupid pointy hats for first year and they ended up getting rid of them after, how annoying.

 He’d have to do what Luo Binghe did, maybe…

 Shen Qingqiu wiped his eyes with his wrist, and realised the position he was in.

 And Luo Binghe was holding him, and looked up at Shen Qingqiu with a series look on his face.

 “Live with me.”

Shen Qingqiu’s mouth fell open- what!?

 “What but that’s-“

If anyone was going to live with Luo Binghe it’d be one of his girlfriends! They might kill him to find out he was living so close to the modern Adonis!

 Luo Binghe chuckled suddenly looking amused.

 “Please, this Binghe lives alone, and it would help if someone helped share the rent.”

 Shen Qingqiu felt awful, here he was feeling sorry for himself and Luo Binghe was struggling at home.

 From what Shang Qinghua told him, it was the last place Binghe had fond memories of his mother, the only thing he had left was his fake jade pendent, as he had to pawn of her belongings for his school clothes.

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes glanced down feeling something break at Luo Binghe’s threadbare clothes, and how he only asked for food from his girlfriends and they barely noticed anything was wrong, always asking Binghe to buy them gifts. Because it was the boys that had to gift the girls even when they were flat out broke.

 Shen Qingqiu looked away.

“Can I live with you? It wouldn’t be- I would t be imposing?”

“Not at all, Qingqiu.” Luo Binghe spoke cuddling Shen Qingqiu closer, hiding his pleased grin into the crook of his shoulder.

 “This Binghe would be delighted to host you.”

___________

The next year was the tournament, but Shen Qingqiu found himself forgetting about it when he lived with Binghe.

 He ended up taking additional shifts and was exhausted when he returned home.

 Working retail was no joke! 

Lifting heavy boxes when he was t used to that labour was a nightmare!

But worth it for his pay check, he split the bill but ended up paying more than Binghe.

 He was saving up, even when he came home ate food and collapsed in bed, exhausted it didn’t matter!

 Luo Binghe deserved nice things!

 He felt bad though for leaving Binghe with the cooking and cleaning even when Binghe was struggling with his own shifts, so Shen Qingqiu split the rent from a 50/50 ratio and payed more he told Binghe it was the least he could do when the other told him it wasn’t fair.

But to Shen Qingqiu it was, he was pants at doing laundry, although he did try to do the dishes in the morning. He was a good roommate after all. But with the additional laundry and cooking from Binghe it didn’t make sense and so Shen Qingqiu payed more for Binghe’s labour and for the food detergent the extra person needed.

“Take it as extra payment for the food and laundry detergent.” He said.

 A shame they were underage and could t use magic! Ugh!

 Even so- Other than paying rent, Shen Qingqiu wanted to get Binghe a present his birthday was during Christmas and both decided to stay at Cang Qiong over the holidays. So he needed to buy his presents in the summer [before he forgot] and as well as buy Binghe his uniform. Shen Qingqiu’s was still good from the previous year, since his parents bought expensive clothes that tended to last.

 But Binghe on the other hand? It was his sixth year! He had to have good clothes!

 And school supplies! His bag was falling apart and his cauldron wasn’t going to last long now that Binghe was using it more often when he found out he wasn’t as useless at potions as he thought!

Of course while Luo Binghe felt as if he was doing more work, he couldn’t help but find it nice as he had someone else to help lighten the load.

He was exhausted when he came home from working at Potions and pots, now that he could understand it better he was helping the shop owner get more potions out for his clients quicker.

 And when he remembered he had to dry and iron their clothes he felt more tired.

So his surprise to see the basket empty, and saw them all put away instead.

 He came to the living room to see Shen Qingqiu asleep, mouth open with drool down his chin with an open book in his lap.

 Luo Binghe’s chest tightened at the sight. How adorable.

 He moved closer silently and glanced down at the book, and saw it was about demonic beasts and flora.

Huh studying even when school was out. That reminded Luo Bknghe he had homework. But he was finally have a day off to do it, now with the extra help. 

 And to hear his thoughts of buying Binghe’s school uniform as a surprise.

 Maybe because he wouldn’t be caught dead standing with Binghe unless he was dressed the part, but even so-

 Luo Binghe felt touched, not even his girlfriends had been this thoughtful, always demanding presents instead and completely blind to his problems.

Although Luo Binghe was proud and didn’t advertise that he was struggling in a sea of students who looked worse of not for lack of money, but by playing too rough and destroyed their uniform and parents refused to pay for it.

To anyone who didn’t know him, they’d assumed that Luo Binghe was just a bad kid always messing around.

 Not realising he took extra care of the only items he had, one rip and his week was ruined.

 And Shen Qingqiu was saving up to buy him things. He didn’t have to work those extra shifts, or exhaust himself. He did it to surprise Binghe, and to get him his Christmas present.

 Binghe of course was working extra to hopefully bribe his mentor at the Potions and Pots shop for his limited edition Demonology book.

 The man was working with potions and barely opened it! It was gathering dust!

 And when Binghe showed how serious he was the man promised to give it to him if he worked extra shifts.

 Just a few more and it was his.

 He couldn’t wait for the look on his…on Shen Qingqiu’s face.

_______________________________

When they returned to school after summer holidays, Binghe confessed to Shen Qingqiu that he still had to work at the local town outside Cang Qiong [name of the town with the skinner] 

 And told Shen Qingqiu that he worked on weekends when most students had their day off, to send the money back to their flat. Even if they weren’t living in it, he still had to pay the monthly fee.

 Shen Qingqiu’s eyes widened. How long was Binghe working!? Oh no wonder he never did homework!

 “Is their any vacancies?”

“Hmm? Why?”

“I’ll work there too- I’ll check if any of the local shops have openings.”

“Qingqiu- it’s fine! This Binghe is used to it.”

“You need a break! All you’ve done is work.” Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t allow it, Binghe’s grades would suffer more this year if he worked himself with no breaks! Hell Shen Qingqiu was looking at his school days as a vacation! 

 They also had to work in the winter as well now that he thought about it.

 “Okay, if this one worked we both get one weekday off,” 

“Shen Qingqiu it’s fine- it’s my house-“

“But I’m living in it. It’s unfair for Luo Binghe to do all the work.”  

Ah and he was looking forward to his vacation-

“Mister Shen? A word.” Yue Qingyuan appeared out of nowhere.

 And Shen Qingqiu glanced his way “Yes, Head Principal Yue?”

 God he nearly died! Don’t scare him like that!

 “If you’ll follow me.”

Shen Qingqiu blinked then glanced back at Binghe, he noticed all of his girlfriends at the table watching them, then felt awful that he was hogging Binghe all to himself!

 Shen Qingqiu patted his arm “This Qingqiu may be awhile- your girlfriends are waiting for you.”

 Luo Binghe’s face spasmed and Shen Qinqiu wondered what was wrong- until he remembered they were pretend dating at school he wondered if Binghe forgot after all he dropped the charade when they lived together and didn’t touch him as much. Not needing to play it up for others.

“I bet your sick of my face Aha- go say hi to Ning Yingying for me.” He smiled and walked off with the principal before Binghe could say anything.

 Luo Binghe scowled as he walked towards the table with his girlfriends.

 Sha Hualing was sitting in Liu Mingyans lap, Hmm it appears they no longer want his company.

Luo Bknghe found himself relieved by that and of course he slumped into the chair as he leaned his head on Ning Yingyings shoulder, and sighed miserably.

“That bad?” She asked and he hummed, “it sas awful. Both of us had work so I barely had a chance to even-“ 

It was so domestic and wonderful, but they barely had time to sit and talk- and since Shen Qingqiu was always asleep he couldn’t get a read on his thoughts.

 “He still thinks it’s pretend?”

“Hmm-Hmm.”

“You should tell him.”

Luo Binghe blinked wondering why Ning Yingying gave him a hard look “Because it’s not pretend anymore, for both of you.”

Luo Binghe’s gaze narrowed, as he tried to grasp her mind and found the shields up.

 He could rip past them but didn’t to stay polite.

 “You’ve met someone else?”

“Don’t be mad.”

“Why would I be?”

“…it’s Ming Fan.”

“…”

He was judging her hard, “I know he bullied you but he promised he would apologise-“

“That’s not it- Ming Fan!?” He asked sceptical, and Ning Yingying nodded and he turned and almost missed him.

Ming Fan had a glow up.

 He wasn’t as handsome as Shen Qingqiu or himself but defiently upgraded from ‘passable’ to good looking.

 And he watched how even Shen Qingqiu who entered the hall did a double glance and even called his name in shock-

And that work preened under the attention.

Luo Binghe wanted him dead, was Shen Qingqiubeasily swayed?

“It’s hard to grasp his type.” Ning Yingying spoke looking as perplexed as him.

 “First Shang Qinghua, but with you we figured he liked smart handsome men, but it appears even Ming Fan draws his eye.”

So average pathetic people?

Was Binghe too handsome? Was that why Shen Qingqiu thought it was pretend? He assumed it was a joke?

As Shen Qingqiu, he nodded looking proud.

 Ah, he thought just as it should be, Binghe with his future wives they all look good together. I hope I’m invited to the wedding although being best man at Binghe’s wedding may be a dream come true he might ask someone else.

Binghe might ask someone else, because he would be in place of husband, not best man.

Binghe paused as he had that thought.

Marriage? That was a little quick although maybe living together made him feel strange.

“What did he want?”

“Hmm?”

Shen Qingqiu glanced at him while spreading butter on his toast.

 Luo Binghe wished he cooked his school meals for him.

Shen Qingqiu would always enjoy his food, face closed in bliss. Alas he didn’t want others to see Shen Qingqiu looking so spoiled.

 “Oh, we’ll um. Yue Qingyuan was aware of my living situation.” Shen Qingqiu but his lip as he tried to cut his bread into an even triangle.

 But Binghe felt himself grow cold, Shen Qingqiu was leaving him?

 That stupid principal- he saw how he looked at Shen Qingqiu their strange dynamic and rumours circulating that Shen Qingqiu was brutal to the people he liked and the way he was treating Yue Qingyuan meant he was practically fucking him!

 No- no he can’t leave!

“He decided to help me out,” Shen Qingqiu spoke taking a breath “Apparently as the whole world found out about my controversial core, my family kicked me out. Well since I’m a light core it gained a lot of sympathy,” Shen Qingqiu sneered, probably hating to be pitied or looked down upon.

 Of course since I’m the perfect victim the wizarding world would bend over backwards to help but people like Binghe? Or Wei Wuxian? Anyone whose not a light core gets shafted- 

“I’ve been proposed some offers, but since I’m still in school they promised to wait, Yue Qingyuan told me I could start my exams now and graduate early.”

Luo Binghe’s eyes widened “What?”

Shen Qingqiu sat up, eyes alight with excitement “Ues and their high paying jobs too- I showed some interest in working with Hanguang-Jun but he’s a top seater, even though I’m exiled I still have a seat and they want me to fill it now that I’m a light core they think my vote would result in Light magic as the main curriculum and make dark magic illegal.”

Sha Hualing gaped “That’s illegal and what about demons? All our magic is dark!”

“That’s why I need to work for Hanguang-Jun. The quicker I study and apprintence and show my aptitude I may become his secretary.”

“Why him specifically?”

“He’s the only series seat member at Huan Hua, the others who are sympathetic to the cause either have a disreputable past or would be seen as biased.”

“Why? Aren’t we doing okay? Do you want to leave that badly?”

Shen Qingqiu blinked only just remembering Binghe and it hurt more.

“What? No! This is to pay you back! I’ll be earning three times what we’re got now and you can graduate without having to worry about anything.”

Luo Binghe clenched his fists, it felt unfair.

 “I don’t want to be in your debt, and I didn’t offer, to make you indebted to me.”

I didn’t think that, Binghe has suffered so much I just want to help him and make easier for him he deserves a break.

“Please, Binghe. I’m not doing this because I feel obligated to, I just want to, your education shouldn’t suffer anymore.”

“So is that all its for? My education?”

What was Shen Qingqiu pampering Luo Binghe like he was some pedigree dog? Was he going to get some payoff after make sure Binghe was well educated.

Shen Qingqiu frowned, “Binghe,” he sounded lost, unsure why Luo Binghe was upset.

 “Didn’t you…want to be chief warlock?”

Luo Binghe looked perplexed, “Why would I want that? I have enough on my plate being the chosen one. What’s the point in laying roots if I get cut down one day.”

Shen Qingqiu flinched, “I thought,” 

If Binghe didn’t want to be chief warlock- was it just spite? Revenge? 

 Surely that can’t be the only reason. He’d want to change things, make it where people like him in the wizarding world would live better.

Or at least that’s what Shen Qingqiu believed.

 “I don’t believe in wasting my time in things that don’t suit my end goal, and being Chief warlock isn’t my future, and if you don’t understand that then you never knew me at all.”

Oh that hurt.

Sha Hualing cackled “Owch, breaking up on the first day?”

Shen Qingqiu blinked at her, forgetting she was there and Sha Hualing bristled at the look.

Oh, I completely forgot about that.

And Luo Binghe’s face still looked cold so Shen Qingqiu nodded “Ah, of course, Luo Binghe.”

He nodded then stood up to leave, his breakfast lay there untouched.

Luo Binghe stiffened, almost calling out- no Sha Hualing was saying crap, 

“Leave him alone.”

Ning Yingying spoke and he scowled but saw her face as she shook her head,

“Remember when he got that howler? How he looked indifferent? But you found him in the bathroom crying?”

Luo Binghe nodded and Ning Yingying glanced at Shen Qingqiubas he turned the corner and disappeared.

 “He looks the exact same now as he did then-“

Binghe wasted no time dumping Ning Yingying off his lap as he ran to chase Shen Yuan.

“Ning Yingying!” Ming fan cried as he helped her back up.

A/N: 

 Ming Fan Neville longbottomed us lmao.

Luo Binghe finds Shen Qingqiu and explains his reaction and that Shen Qingqiu had a lot of assumptions and expectations and Luo Binghe felt as if he wasn’t meeting them.

And Shen Qingqiu apologised stating that he never meant for binghe to feel like that and asked what his plans were if chief warlock wasn’t in the cards.

Binghe wanted to open a restaurant. And Shen Qingqiu melted and told him how wonderful that was.

Yue Qingyuan looks into Binghe’s accommodations and learns that the ministry was paying for Binghe’s house. So why was Shen Qingqiu and binghe working?

He calls binghe in. And binghe assumes he’s in trouble since he and Yue Qingyuan don’t get along well. And finds that Yue Qingyuan asks him his housing issues then gets it sorted because of that Luo Binghe is then compensated over a grande worth of money. He finally feels as of everything is looking up! Even Shen Qingqiu can’t believe the good news then blows up about that two big realtor that was taking money from the ministry AND binghe and was even blackmailing binghe would lose his home if he missed a payment.

“Once I’m in Hua Huan ministry I’ll hunt that rat down and make him wish for death, I’ll ruin him. Drive his buisness into the ground, make it impossible to find work, and give him a taste of what you went through- Binghe?”

Binghe was in love.

_______________

After the ‘exposing’ his core Luo Binghe was threatened expulsion. And Shen Qingqiu came to his defence.

Shen Qingqiu forgave Luo Binghe. He was still mad but didn’t think Binghe deserved to lose his right to his education over a mistake.

But Yue Qingyuan did not.

 “This is serious, Luo Binghe you are dismissed.”

As Shen Qingqiu was left alone, he felt awkward he and Yue Qingyuan had a history and he knew what that history was even so.

 “Luo Binghe paralysed you and exposed your core. That is a violation of basic wizarding rights, akin to rape. And yet you defend him? Why?”

 “Binghe would’ t do that-“ Shen Qingqiu spoke.

Yue Qingyuans eyes flickered but then returned to Shen Qingqiu as he continued.

“I bullied him, hurt him, and all of a sudden act like I’m in love with him. He was bound to snap, he thought I was pranking him and probably wanted to catch me in the act. He was just trying to protect himself anybody would be wary in their school bully changed and acted out of character.”

Yue Qingyuan looked at him in pity, “You think you deserve it. You think your getting your karma and think that makes it okay for others to hurt you. But Shen Qingqiu with that type of thinking, when do those types of people stop? What happens when you know longer can tell whose the bully and whose the victim? You may have hurt him, but Luo Binghe is old enough to understand his own actions and is aware enough that he is responsible for those actions no matter the reason.”

“Please don’t expel him, he’s good- he’s a really good kid.”

 Yue Qingyuan sighed, “You used to have better judgement than that, but for you Shen Qingqiu the boy won’t be expelled.” Shen Qingqiu relaxed.

“Instead I’ll personally see to his detention myself.”

“Thank you, Headmaster Yue- should I get him?”

“No need. He’s probably went to class you should return yourself.”

Once Shen Qingqiu was gone Yue Qingyuans warm gaze dropped turning cold.

He flicked his wand and the invisibility cloak was ripped from Luo Binghe who was trapped, his face red from anger.

 “To think Shen Qingqiu was defending you and you have the nerve to spit on that kindness.”

How!?

How did that old man know he was here!?

Yue Qingyuan would never reveal that he could sense when someone was trying to read his mind. And Luo Binghe was stunned, he barely saw the sect leader move!

He was strong. Really strong.

As Yue Qingyuan approached, Luo Binghe didn’t feel afraid just humiliated and annoyed.

“Shen Qingqiu may have flaws, but to spit upon his kindness is too far.” 

Yue Qingyuan reached out…and cupped Luo Binghe’s face.

Luo Bonghe felt his head tilted up, feeling his heartbeat quicken- what was he doing?

Yue Qingyuan dazed at him, cold and dismissive. Luo Binghe could feel sweat heading down his neck as he couldn’t move.

 “He felt like this. Trapped unable to move while another could do whatever he pleased.”

 Yue Qingyuans hand lowered and Luo Binghe’s throat bobbed. Yue Qingyuan was powerful, and Luo Binghe was arragont.

 He never understood the vastness of their power until now- he still couldn’t move.

“Shen Qingqiu was powerless, as you did whatever you liked…”

Yue Qingyuan was going to-

His hand squeezed his throat, not enough to hurt but to cut of oxygen, and Luo Binghe breath falterered feeling his heartbeat quicken as Yue Qingyuan gazed at him with indifference.

 “Do you understand now, Mr Luo? Or should I give more demonstrations.”

Uh- more demonstrations.

 Yue Qingyuan may have officially jump started Luo Binghe’s sexual awakening.

 “You can do whatever you like?”

And Yue Qingyuans lip pulled into a sneer, “Mr Luo, Shen Qingqiu may think you hung the stars and the moon but from what I see, is nothing but a self absorbed brat. I can’t find anything to be impressed with.”

 “You should see my dick, then you’d be impressed.”

Yue Qingyuan probably thought he was joking, but the man only tightened his grip, and Luo Binghe was powerless against it feeling a thrill as Yue Qingyuan leaned closer.

 “I prefer someone with more experience than a fumbling teenager who can’t tell when someone is saying no.”

Yue Qingyuan let go and Luo Binghe could finally move and breath while he panted.

 “You’ll be having detention with me. And Binghe, if you don't persuade me that what Shen Qingqiu see’s in you is true, then I will make life very difficult for you.”

Luo Binghe understood the threat. Yue Qingyuan could’ve been the youngest chief warlock by his prowess alone but decided to be a principal and said that it’s be better that someone who was older like the Palace Master should be chief warlock instead. 

 Even so, Luo Binghe shifted grabbing his cloak and sulked out the office.

He already slept with his girlfriends and learned all he could know, but when it came to men he was ignorant.

 He bet that if he played it right Yue Qingyuan would scratch that itch when Shen Qingqiu was being obviously obtuse with his teasing.

“I want to learn how to please men and you should teach me.”

Yue Qingyuan raised an eyebrow, then tensed when Luo Binghe grew bold moving forward groping the principal.

Yue Qingyuans face grew thunderous, “Luo Binghe-“

The boy grew coquettish as he purred “It’s fine isn’t it, this Binghe knows you have fantasies about your precious Shen Qingqiu but you don’t want to ruin your relationship with him pretend I’m Shen Qingqiu take out your frustration-“

 “One more word and I’ll stick it shut.” Yue Qingyuan warned feeling more irritated as Luo Binghe pressed closer, “Hmm, I just want to be more informed on how men have sex I want to be prepared if Shen Qingqiu and I take that next step. I don’t want to hurt him.”

Yue Qingyuan pushed him back turning around to ignore him until-

“Or I could contact the ministry about that full body bind you pulled. All it would take is them seeing a student in that position with the head principal of Cang Qiong and you’d be ruined.”

He was blackmailing him.

Yue Qingyuan glared and Luo Binghe beamed. Jackpot.

…nope he regretted it.

 Yue Qingyuan covered his bases. He actually treat it as a lesson. Making a rebound spell so binghe couldn’t get within a foot of him and actually gave binghe sex education. With the boring diagrams and vague descriptions on sex like it was theory.

 Luo Binghe was so bored and yet it was educational. 

 Even so he decided to back off from teasing Yue Qingyuan because the lesson itself was punishment enough. 

Yue Wingyuan was worried about Luo Bonghe and even though he did not want to touch that stick with a ten foot pole he decided to broach the subject.

“Mr Luo.” 

“Hmm?”

Binghe was copying down lines, about how he will never do something without that persons explicit permission.

And Yue Qingyuan wondered if maybe- 

“We’re you ever…assaulted as a child?” Well assault was a strong word, here Binghe paused as he looked up.

“Huh?”

“Did an adult touch you inappropriately when you were young? Was your boundaries constantly crossed so now you don’t understand what a boundary is?”

Luo Binghe blinked, and almost felt offended.

“No! No one has- why would you think that?”

Yue Qingyuan raised an eyebrow “Well given that you’re making me worried about making a student pregnant with your escapades, or possibly in danger of an std your are more sexually active for a student your age.”

Luo Binghe eyes narrowed “That’s normal.”

“What isn’t normal is to pursue a teacher who is eight years your senior.”

Wow only eight. Luo Binghe thought he was older.

 “To not understand the basic principles of consent.”

 Luo Binghe placed his pen or paper down.

“What? Want to know my history?” Luo Binghe leered and Yue Qingyuan only gazed at him cooly, unaware that it was really doing something for him.

 “No. I’ll just inform Mu Qingfan and set you up to a mediwitch.”

“You want to send me to a shrink?”

Luo Binghe spoke flabbergasted, and Yue Qingyuan nodded “Yes.”

Luo Binghe thought it wouldn’t help but then it turns out the more he talked, the more he was told that his lack of power and control when he was bullied made him react. Having sex and finding out he was good at it gave him confidence not to mention his first time wasn’t really consensual.

Luo Binghe didn’t understand he was raped by a women and thought that was impossible as all men liked it? The mediwitch only gave him a pity look. And told Binghe he was becoming the bully, he had this dynamic where Shen Qingqiu was now the victim. And flipped their dynamic. When it comes to acedemics Shen Qingqiu bullied him, looked down on him and now seeing Shen Qingqiu looking flustered and unsure gave Binghe the confidence and wielded his sexual knowledge as a weapon. And looked down on Shen Qingqiu.

“This isn’t healthy.”

 Luo Binghe pressed his lips together.

 He didn’t understand it before but now…

“The only good thing about your relationship with Shen Qingqiu, is that he respects your boundaries, he only lets you control how far you’ll go.”

“That’s because he’s scared to.”

“Maybe he’s happy just being friends? But he doesn’t discourage any type of act of intamicy. He lets you decide how far you want to go and with that your in control. But that is a lot of trust he is placing in your hands and that’s when you need to start thinking of his needs and when you need to stop.”

 Luo Bonghe blinked, after all…he had already read Shen Qingqiu’s mind, he wasn’t a threat anymore. Playing these mind games was just cruel at this point.

 “You think about that, I’ll see you at your next session.”

When he came back to Yue Qingyuans detention he was more subdued, and less flirty. Yue Qingyuan was almost getting used to it. “What is it?”

“What I did to Shen Qingqiu others can do. Isn’t there a system to stop students from taking advantage of one another? A rebound on wands to the caster gets hit with the spell instead of a victim?”

Yue Qingyuan nodded, “Yes, I have been working on such an array to stop students from hexing and jinxing the others as well as other types of malicious spell casting. I figured what if I only make it where you can only cast spells in a classroom? But that creates a resentment and all students need to do is wait until they graduate before attacking others because they were curious on what would happen if they did.”

“But a rebound to make them experience the spell will make them think twice, it’ll put them in their victims shoes.”

“Maybe an alert so the security would be able to apprehend both parties so no one gets hurt.”

 And Luo Binghe and Yue Qingyuan worked on an array together for their detention.

This ends up saving Shen Qingqiu’s life from a vindictive Qiu Haitang. And Shen Qingqiu feels frustrated when she was ejected from their friend group and yet Shen Qingqiu felt as if he was just filling in for Qui Haitang.

 Shen Qingqiu scowled, even with Luo Binghe’s hand wrapped around his waist but his attention was on Ning Yingying, and Shen Qingqiu felt something sink in the pit of his stomach and felt heavier.

 It wasn’t going to last, he glanced at Luo Binghe who smiled at him, he smiled back.

Soon it’d be me being banished from this group, after all it’s only pretend. After Luo Binghe is satisfied he’ll forget all about me, so what does it matter?

Luo Binghe’s smile faded.

“Hmm? Binghe? Are you all right?” Luo Binghe’s grip on his waist tightened, “Qingqiu, you know I like you right?”

“Yes and I like Binghe.” Obviously.

“And I like Binghe,” Sha Hualing spoke as did Ning Yingying and Liu Mingyan which wasn’t helping his case.

 Luo Binghe opened his mouth then shut it. Shen Qingqiu didn’t care that Luo Binghe exposed his core, which lead to Qui Haitang finding out and blaming to Shen Qingqiu’s parents. He forgave him because he thought it was payback. That it was justified to a bully from a victim.

But from a lover?

Luo Binghe realised that Shen Qingqiu never saw their relationship as official or real only pretend. Because Luo Binghe didn’t treat it as such, he was callous in his feelings and Yue Qingyuan was right, a child acting petty and was awful. 

 Luo Binghe betrayed his trust, Shen Qingqiu wasn’t forgiving but he had pursuade himself that the relationship was pretend to spare his own feelings.

 If Shen Qingqiu didn’t have that thought to call back on, Luo Binghe would have hurt him beyond anything he could fix.

As he went to Yue Qingyuan that night, he felt ashamed of himself. And found his mothers words coming back to him hauntingly.

Remember to be kind.

 She would be disgusted with Binghe.

Yue Qingyuan glanced up, seeing Luo Binghe diligently doing his notes without lip.

…something was wrong.

So Binghe asked if there was a way to rebound the worst curses such as the full body bind or even stupify.

[dukemeropide]

Solstice Plotting Call

// Wriothesley is here on a much-needed vacation. The only problem is that he can't sit still even when he's supposed to be relaxing. I've signed him up for both Harpastum and Requiem, but I'd like to snag a couple of additional interactions this month too. I won't be reblogging the ask meme, but I'll send some as ideas strike.

All threads will ideally be less than 250 words per reply. I'm in the Discord server for this event, so ideally DM me there, but I'll answer IMs and replies on this post as well.

Commission Board

Wet Sheep: Wriothesley working on his day off? More likely than you think. We can do one of two scenarios for this thread: 1) Wriothesley has been roped into the task of dunking sheep by an NPC who's noticed that he's been restless. This batch isn't exactly docile, however, and one sheep takes off and nearly runs over your muse, who's just passing by. It's time to go wrangle that sheep, who proves to be much more wily than either your muse or Wriothesley expected. Or 2) your muse is already dunking sheep for their own reason, and they call for Wriothesley's help when he comes by. He won't say no. Make it a competition and so many sheep will be sheared by the end of the day.

Abandoned cathedral: Wriothesley can't settle anywhere unless he's thoroughly investigated his surroundings - and spooky church on the hill? Definitely suspicious. I'm more interested in exploring the cathedral itself, but I'd also be content with a thread where Wriothesley has to sweettalk coach a less physically inclined muse to accompany him and they never make it to the cathedral.

Shipwreck: Living under water means that Wriothesley has to be a pretty strong swimmer and diver. I'm thinking both of our muses are independently exploring the wreckage when yours gets stuck on something and things take a turn for the worse. Especially when some dangerous-looking sea creatures start lurking closer.

Boat Race: Wriothesley has a bit of a competitive streak and loves to make bets. Our muses can either be watching a race, where RNG determines who comes out on top, or they can be the racers themselves. (alternatively, a four-way thread with two spectators and two racers could be fun as well)

About Wriothesley at the beach

He's dressed down for once, although with boots and long pants, he looks more prepared to go for a hike than take a swim Fontainians swim fully dressed, after all Loose button-down shirt over a tank for the top. Those scars all over his body aren't exactly proud mementos, so he's still got them mostly covered.

You'll find him doing one activity or another (beach volleyball, digging a hole, taking a swim, tending the fire). It's been a while since he's had a leisurely beachside vacation, but he's from the nation of hydro, so he does seem right at home here.

He's hard to track down though, because he won't stay in any one place for long, and the mysterious peace of the islands has him a little on edge.

Younger muses can get him to do just about anything they want. He has a soft spot for children.

[artemis-entreri]

[[ Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves Review (Spoiler-Free)

I was fortunate enough to attend an early showing of the new D&D movie on March 19, 2023 for Amazon Prime members. As a huge aficionado of the official D&D setting, the Forgotten Realms, I was nervous going in, especially given the history of D&D movies. The movie’s trailer was spectacular, but there was the very real fear that the trailer showed all the best parts of the movie and didn’t leave much for the rest of it. It also didn’t help that the tie-in novels, The Druid’s Call and The Road to Neverwinter, were pretty subpar, which was super disappointing both given that the latter was penned by an author who’d written decent Forgotten Realms novels in the past and that these were the only FR non-Drizzt novels we got since WotC discontinued the novel line. The folks responsible for the high quality of the Forgotten Realms Wiki were very concerned, as was I, for a feature film that might besmirch our beloved world.

We needn’t have worried, as Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves is, in a word, spectacular. It’s so engaging that it holds the attention of the single digit aged theatre attendees enraptured for the entire duration. Its funny moments had the whole theatre laughing. Its sentimental moments moistens the eyes of the most hard-hearted viewers. It brings classical D&D monsters brilliantly to life with the best of modern technology, while putting its own spin on those familiar creatures in really clever ways. Even the most predictable plot point manages to be a tear-jerker, through the exceptional employment one of the most basic strategies of effective storytelling: showing instead of telling. But most of all, for me personally at least, Honor Among Thieves’ greatest success is the bringing home of the core tenet of D&D: the joy and love of a found family, regardless of different histories. 

Those not at all familiar with Forgotten Realms lore need not worry, as points of significance are explained without being artificial. There certainly are elements that the most dedicated loreheads can nitpick, however the movie is so stellar that I and many others find those elements more than acceptable. It is the case that the movie feels like a generic fantasy movie that borrows bits and pieces from the Realms rather than being a dedicated D&D/FR movie, but this is more than understandable in order to have a wider appeal. However, all of this is totally fine, because, as one of the head editors of the Forgotten Realms Wiki (BadCatMan) so aptly puts it:

I gotta say, I was the person most primed for disappointment in the whole wide world. I documented it for seven years, and the movie isn't even that old. I researched and reported on the production, I scoured social media and LinkedIn for clues, just to get articles developed in time. I promoted it, I put the wiki's reputation on it. And then I read the godsawful novelisation that made it indistinguishable from garbage. The other books sounded little better, compressing and dullifying our Realms. I wearied myself out writing wiki articles. I was sick with nervousness all day. 

But the books lied. The promotion lied. It is not some big flashy blow-shit-up Marvel-style movie with a lot of wisecracking and jokes at the expense of the material. It is a classic fantasy adventure movie that treats it all with respect, runs with it, and has a little fun with it. It's not quite the quintessential D&D movie, nor a perfect Forgotten Realms tale. There's still a bit too much Hollywood moviemaking in it. But it may be as close as a movie will come.

There are gaping plot and lore holes in it, and some things are never explained. But it wouldn't be Forgotten Realms without that last mystery, that one loose thread to tug on. [...] And while the books made travel times non-existent and the Realms seem more compressed than the average open-world computer game, the movie has plenty of travel scenes and grand landscapes. Faerûn is as big and beautiful as we always imagined.

I myself teared up at every sprawling scene of the landscape. It meant so much to see a world I love to the bones brought to life. Honor Among Thieves certainly didn’t need to, but it more than pays homage to the scenes of the world. From the depths of the Underdark to the sprawling icy wastes of Icewind Dale, the movie honors the world, lifts it up high, and shows everyone that sense of wonder long time Forgotten Realms fans know in their hearts. 

My only regret is that my theatre did not have the Themberchaud popcorn bucket for sale (photos courtesy of Sheepy, who washed it out and is using it as a dice holder, from Ed Greenwood’s own Forgotten Realms lore Discord server, Greenwood’s Grotto):

It is unknown whether this dragon head will be available in US theatres. It seems that USA AMCs are getting a D20 popcorn bucket instead:

(Image from above is from: https://www.tiktok.com/@amctheatres/video/7210819695308688686?_r=1&_t=8ak5XP7se8w)

This movie will definitely do well enough such that sequels and spin-offs would also be profitable. We can only hope that they do as good of a job as they did with this premier.

For a comprehensive coverage of the movie, check out the Forgotten Realms Wiki’s article on Honor Among Thieves. If you’re interested in a detailed lore breakdown, be sure to visit the Wiki again at a later time, as that’s currently being worked on! 

The aforementioned BadCatMan is working on a, “detailed breakdown, personal critique, metatextual metagame overanalysis of the movie, though it is spoiler-free and focused on the storyline rather than the lore, though I cover lore later. It's not finished yet though. ” Check that out here! ]]

[oivsyo]

Why I’m still creating for Narutoverse?

The thing is, thanks to one particular thread on Twi, I’ve figured out that I only watched Shippuden until episode 54 in my teenagehood. Now I have watched it selectively up to the end ofc, but I think this  fact is the reason why I didn't give up on Naruto and it still inspires me. I grew up during the best years of Naruto and skipped the downfall of the story, so I mostly have positive memories about the story and characters.

It all started when I was 14? (now I don't remember exactly), and my friends brought me anime titled Naruto on a flash drive, because then I didn't have the Internet yet. They said 'try this, you may like it'

OG and the beginning of Shippuden were very good. VERY GOOD.

OG is generally my favorite part of the story, the characters shone in all their glory and developed very logically. It's no surprise that these characters have made so many people fall in love with them. Also in OG, the tone of the story was completely different. The world was more cruel and gloomy, more realistic. In the first OG arc, there are two ambiguous antagonists who die dramatically in the end. The fights were about taijutsu, weapon and strategy - exactly what you would expect from a ninja story. Yes, even in OG there are many inconsistencies and plot holes, but this story IS fascinating. The Chunin exam arc is still one of my favorite arcs of all Naruto.

The space on the flash drive on which the episodes were brought to me was very small, and I couldn’t watch many episodes in a row. So I have watched many of them over and over again. I remember that before the start of the summer holidays, my friend brought me episodes with Neji VS Kidomaru. I've been tormented for 3 months about not knowing if Neji would survive. With the beginning of the new school year, my friend brought me new series with a sequel, and it turned out to be Shippuden right away.

Shippuden started very cheerfully and confidently. Euphoria that I experienced bc my favorite characters returned was beyond any words. Characters matured, their designs changed. 

Sakura immediately became my goddess because the growth of her character was very much felt compared to all the others. From a useless and annoying crybaby, she became strong, strong-willed, skilled, she became a real kunoichi. I’m sad that her development and training were not shown properly, but even so the impression was very good. It's not an exaggeration to say that Sakura from early  Shippuden, was a role model that I wanted to look up to as a teenager.

In the first arc team Gai was shown. Neji’s redesign won my young heart, probably it‘s Neji to blame that I’ve developed a crush for long haired men. Even though his interactions with Hinata were not shown in the beginning, it felt like he had changed a lot and softened up towards everyone. 

I also really liked Hinata's design, but I remember at that moment I thought - ‘ how could she grow such long hair in such a short period of time? Apparently the Hyuga clan has some special recipes for hair care’. That was one of the reasons why in my AU I decided to make the timeskip longer - 4years instead of 2,5.

I really wanted to see how the grown-up Neji and the more self-confident Hinata interact with each other. I was sure that it would be an arc dedicated to the Hyuga clan and how the two of them, with the help of Naruto ofc, change the clan. Unfortunately, my aspirations were not destined to come true.

Ep 41 where Naruto loses control and hurts Sakura - is a chef's kiss. The fox feels like an absolute evil with which such a sunny and good person like Naruto has to deal with. Aand ofc Naruto wa supposed to loose control bc this evil is too much for  him. Naruto being possessed by the demon and hurting his beloved ones is a theme that I like and I'm very sad that it was wasted.

An intriguing and long-awaited meeting with Sasuke - a moment that is well engraved in my memory as one of the last ones I watched. 

Then I abandoned watching Naruto and anime in general for reasons I can’t remember, but probably it was because of graduating from school. Some years later I heard the news that Hinata confessed to Naruto and that Neji died in the manga, but at that time it didn’t make a big impression on me, firstly, I wasn’t already involved that much, secondly, I had a premonition for a long time that if Neji and Hinata are not supposed to be a couple at the end, then one of them will definitely die - most likely Neji, bc MC needs a girlfriend. So when I found out that Neji died protecting Hinata and Naruto, I just thought "NejiHina is canon and now it’s confirmed". But it didn't become a traumatic dramatic experience for me. I also remember everyone hyping that the Naruto manga was over. I even read the last chapter. I felt a slight sadness at the sight of Hinata at Neji's grave and that story that had a strong influence on me when I was a teenager is over. That was it. I again forgot about Naruto for a very long time.

Two years ago, in a rather difficult period of my life, I experienced an irresistible urge to watch Naruto. And I did it. I had a very mixed impression of what I saw.

Perhaps the last arc that I liked was the arc when Asuma was killed. I liked the villains, I liked the drama of Asuma/Kurenai, of InoShikaCho and Shikamaru’s personal growth. It was good. 

Then I witnessed the degradation of the plot, the characters - of everything. I don't know what was the reason, but the series just got boring. Previously interesting and deep characters have turned into cardboard mannequins. 

The more Shippuden developed, the more villains that “were not villains” appeared. There was no one comparable to Zabuza and Haku or Orochimaru from OG. A breath of fresh air for me was Hidan and Kakuzu, who simply enjoy making a fuss, torturing and killing.

The whole atmosphere of the series has become somehow very sterile and toothless. Naruto as a character became very shallow and at times even annoying for me. Becoming stronger and gaining new powers he at the same time stopped developing as a charater. Probably the only time I liked Naruto in late Shippuden was when Naruto got depressed because of Sasuke in the Land of Iron.  

The fights bacame more spectacular, but were no longer as interesting as in the beginning, now everything has turned into “who has a bigger and stronger technique”. 

Kaguya as a villain is just nothing. She is just a doll, very powerful, but a doll. Moreover, even such a powerful doll was subsequently weakened for the sake of the plot. In general, this "for the sake of the plot" is what characterizes Shippuden, especially the later episodes. The characters do and say what is necessary for the sake of the plot, because of which they feel like fools or cardboard for me. New characters appear to replace the old ones, which are not developed enough, the final battle of the war, where the villains hatch one from the other almost saying "It was me, Dio!" and “I’m stronger than the previous one!”

For example, I know that a lot of people like Madara, but for me he is almost never remembered, just one of war arc villains. Although I can’t deny that the intrigue about him was built up really well. And i like his design.

Akatsuki, who made an impression of a very serious opponent for the characters in the OG and the beginning of Shippuden, in fact turned out to be just an unorganized group of people who weren't so scary. It’s still not very clear for me why many members of the organization are there at all.

Itachi.... He used to be one of my favorite male characters. But the “the truth is that he is a good guy’ seemed far-fetched to me. Probably because it wasn't planned from the beginning so his previous actions contradict a lot with his intentions. Therefore, none of his good intentions forgive his asshole attitude towards Sasuke in OG. The fact that his "ingenious plan" worked is only due to the fact that it was necessary for the plot. To me, he was a very cool protagonist, but trying to make him an anti-hero only ruined him. However, I still think Itachi looks awesome.

I have not much to say about the events after Shippuden. I watched the Last. By the way, over the past year I have watched it as many times as probably no average fan of TL has watched it (I want to redraw some scenes and need to understand the logic of the original plot very well), and my opinion about the movie has changed - for the worse, unfortunatly.

I watched Boruto a bit, 15 episodes or so and I must say that I even liked it. I’m not joking. The characters are quite interesting. The focus is not on the main character (as it was in the beginning of Naruto). I liked that the academy period was shown. Although sometimes what is happening is absurd and too fanservice, Naruto really lacked this. Because of what, it seemed that 1) the OG characters did not learn anything at the academy 2) they did not communicate with each other there all 6? years of the academy, and only after graduation, becoming genin, they began to interact.

In Boruto I especially liked Chocho, she is a beautiful goddess and I kneel before her. This girl rocks with her awesome self-esteem. I also liked Shikadai. 

However, the attitude towards the old characters and the lore of OG and even Shippuden leaves much to be desired there. When I managed to ignore the fact that Boruto is a continuation of the story for more than 500 episodes, then it hass become ok to watch. I think this is the reason for the difference in the perception of the old audience that grew up on OG and Shippuden, and the new fans who watched Boruto first. These are really two different works and it’s very difficult to perceive them together, because in some places they simply contradict each other.

And probably someone will now think - ‘well, since you don’t like everything and you complain so much, why the hell are you staying in this fandom?’ and the answer is actually quite simple - there’re a lot of things in Naruto that I really like and that inspire me. If you want a metaphor, I choose grains from a mountain of husks and this grains inspire me a lot. I have critical thinking and imagination, what’s more important - I don’t know how to love unconditionally and don’t consider this a manifestation of pure love. I see a lot of flaws in Naruto as a story, plot holes, inconsistencies, wasted characters, etc., but I still like Naruto a lot. I prefer to focus not on what I don't like, but on what I like. Such things have a greater weight for me on the scales. And thanks to this approach, I continue to do what I do with great pleasure, it keeps me productive. No, I'm not bothered  that 'it’s not like this in THE CANON!!!’(c), NEJI IS DEAD(c), and even more it doesn't bother me that someone thinks about it and that there are some ppl who don’t like my art. I like the concept of multiverses and for me Narutoverse is kinda Minecraft where you can create different stories and events useing bricks that were given in the canon. And I enjoy doing it. That's all.

What is the conclusion of all this? Well, nothing in particular, I just shared my story about Naruto bc I felt like sharing. The only thing, perhaps, if I continued to watch Naruto back then 1) most likely I would be disappointed and quit watching, the series would leave a bad impression on me and I would hardly draw Naruto after so many years 2) I had been more involved in what was happening, then Hinata's confession and Neji's death would have hurt me more, as well as many other fans who left the fandom after these events. And I just don’t take it that seriously. In general I have a rather chilling attitude to the canon, I just want to have fun and nothing else matters to me. Probably because I didn’t watch the entire series in my youth in my vision of the characters  based on OG and early  Shippuden images of the characters and I use them in my drawings ideas for drawings.

[why485]

It’s kind of amazing that having read only a couple chapters ahead from when I wrote my previous post that was just the teaser for the big reveal(s). It’s always been a bit weird to me that this series has as high a score as it does, but I think I get it now after this because it’s a hell of a twist.

I’ll probably do one more Fuutaroubowl update, though I’m not sure how soon I should do it yet. Looking ahead at the chapter names, it seems like there’s a very lengthy school festival arc is coming up and then the last volume which presumably just wraps everything up, so maybe it’s better to do it sooner than later.

Yotsuba’s past finally gets fully revealed in chapter 90 and it recontextualizes literally everything that’s happened up until now. Yotsuba was the secret main character this entire time. A tragic character and, while not what you’d call a mastermind, behind any of the weird and/or ambiguous events that didn’t quite add up. After a couple more chapters (Last read 95, ~30 away from the end) this is such an insane loose thread, with so much room for growth, that when combined with Itsuki’s apparent status reversal, a Yotsuba win seems very likely.

The craziest thing is that it even fixes some plot holes that were bugging me. Up until this point, I’ve been assuming the mangaka has been making it all up as he went. That the reason for so many of the quint shenanigans was to keep it as ambiguous as possible so the story (and winner) could be tweaked over time based on either his own preferences or some other outside forces. Now though, I’m not so sure.

I went back and read through some of the early chapters and everything is consistent. This actually cleans up a lot of the problems I thought existed around the Rena character and Itsuki’s part in it all. All my insane theories during the Nino arc only made sense at the time, and now after everything’s played out it’s hard to imagine it going any other way. I don’t know that I want to re-read the entire thing yet, but I will say that it’s renewed my interest in the anime, because I’m really curious what an edited version of this story looks like. Maybe nothing actually needs to change to keep it internally consistent. Maybe all of this actually was planned out in advance.

[kdramasinreview]

An Introduction of Sorts

I stumbled into the world of K-Dramas back in 2017 by accident. I had been looking through Netflix for something to watch, and ended up clicking on one just for fun.

At the time, I had no idea how much I would enjoy watching. I swiftly binged through the first one, and immediately watched another one that was randomly recommended.

Then, a couple years went by until I ended up watching another K-Drama at the end of June right as I was getting over Covid. And down I fell into the rabbit hole.

From June 2022 to now (January 2023), I have watched at least fifty different K-Dramas, and have no plans on stopping. I have gotten a lot of questions as to why I love watching them so much, and have yet to find a concise way of explaining. However, here is my attempt to try to put it in words.

I think the thing about K-dramas that I love is that unless a second season is announced, I know exactly how many episodes to expect. With English shows, it is not always predetermined how many episodes they will get to tell their story. With K-Dramas, you know that in typically 12-20 episodes, you will get a finished story. Sure there are ones that end open-ended and definitely need a couple of more episodes to make sense and tie up loose plot threads, but at least you know what you signed up for.

The most obvious criticism I get in regards to watching K-Dramas is the need to read subtitles. Although for me, it isn't a deal breaker at all. Ever since streaming became a thing, I even put subtitles for shows that are in English.

Anyways, this space will be my space to nerd out about all things K-drama, so please feel free to follow me if you'd like to know my thoughts. :]

[navarice]

Continuing my thoughts because I need to get through this drama, I've invested too much time not to:

It's true season 1 was much more enjoyable than season 1 due to the fantasy and mystery aspect. I'm a huge fan of xianxia so it hit the perfect spot since sometimes cdrama xianxia can get really tedious and in over their head. kdrama has a way of keeping things rooted to the ground (mostly anyway). the acting was top notch in the first season, save for the awkward kdrama pauses but i chalk that up to the kdrama charm. however, i do enjoy the romance more in season 2. I think the chemistry between the two leads is perfect, and I love how they kept the original boldness of naksu. it is her after all. I think the actress is doing wonderfully considering the lore and what she remembers. amnesia plots aren't bad if they're done right, and in 10 episodes they did well enough.

my issue as always was with how many loose threads they kept on introducing, along with contradictions and plot holes. it didn't help that jin mu was practically invincible, since everyone and their mother in season 1 knew he was involved with alchemy of souls. not to mention the whole naksu/bu yeon dichotomy that honestly could've been cleared up with one conversation in season 1. also the firebird plot for season 2 was way too weak considering how strong the whole alchemy of souls thing was. there was no reason to bring back so-i only to torture seo-yul with half-assed what-if romance. jin cho-yeon moved too fast considering she was willing to kill naksu in the end of season 1 when naksu went wild and killed her father. i don't remember the medicine lady ever being that annoying and invasive. jung-uk, surprisingly, moved on from this three-year grief and love for Mu-deok quite easily. all in all, so much character suicide everywhere. but it's okay because i enjoy trashy romance and narrative patterns. ugh.

honestly, the show is very good. credit where credit is due. i was very excited and hooked all the way up to the end. the only reason why i started to watch it was because of the season 2 screencaps. I just didn't expect the ending of season 1 to be so deeply unsatisfying to ruin most of season 2. that felt unfair to me as a viewer and someone who wanted to respect the actors and actresses for their efforts.

i do want them to do a season 3 with a new cast and plot though. i would watch it simply because the world, magic, and action was so fun and interesting. i just hope they get better writers this time lol.

[definitely-not-5urreal-w4nderer]

Wynonna Earp is so full of plot holes and loose ends, but I think the reason it still ends up amazing is that the character work is always there.

Like I could list so many plot threads we never get to the bottom of, like the exact nature of Dolls physiology and origin, Wynonna's previous life of crime, etc. But when it comes to emotional through lines like Wynonna's challenges with alcoholism and her relationship to the notion of parenthood, or things like the affectionate protective friendship between Doc and Jeremy, it's always there, and there's always continuety. It's there in the writing, use of set, props and costume, most of all its on the performance.

I think it was very character driven writing, and I think the people who love it l, love it most for the characters they fall so deeply in love with. To a point where weak spots in the lore and plot just aren't so important that it reduces the enjoyment of the show, much as I do want to know more about the bleaker case. I just think that's fascinating and beautiful.