#There's another AU I didn't mention
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Hi Dema!! Your art is fantastic and even the lineart is awesome! Solid and confident in where it's thick and where thin. I really like how your style has characters look more realistic and they have specific consistent features. Your blog has a pleasant atmosphere, and you're skilled in weaving AUs! There's a lot of details and structure, and I'd like to ask if any of them have a full story arc? Could you do a list of all of the AUs? Is there a motif that you especially like that repeats in any of the AUs? And whenever you add comments to my stuff in the tags I literally smile, it makes me want to keep at my plan to create everything I have in mind. So I'd like to spread this joy! I hope you have a nice day! (from late-draft ^^)
Hello, Late-Draft! I wasn't expecting this ask at all but I'm so glad to have received it!
First of all—I'll try to hold myself back from giggling like a schoolgirl. I'm having a sempai noticed me moment over here and that's just embarrassing. So give me a second to compose myself, if that's alright?
Okay, I'm back.
Now, on to business.
Character design, especially when it comes to facial features and how they're unique to each person, has always been a passion of mine. I always try to have a solid design for each character. I choose which features feel like the character in question, which face feels natural to draw, and go along with it. I love drawing Katara as much as I love drawing Zuko. Meanwhile, I seem to be on a never-ending battle against Sokka's features. Woes of an artist, I suppose.
Character design is actually one of the reasons I love your work so much, in case you hadn't noticed. I'm currently experimenting a bit with a different style... Hopefully it won't be long before the artwork is done and I can share it over here. I'm so excited for everyone to see it!
Now it's time for the reason we're all here.
I have said it before and shall say it once more: AUs are my lifeblood.
I love them so much! Building them, daydreaming the scenes, thinking of the characters and how they differ from their canon versions. The arcs and the themes and the worldbuilding. Building AUs is my passion, and I have so many of them!
There are a lot of motifs and themes that tend to repeat themselves in several of my AUs, I believe.
You'll notice that most of my stories are Zuko-centric, with a heavy emphasis on grief and humanity. There's the question of what makes us human and how to move forward when the whole world seems to push you back. I put a lot of stock in metaphors and symbolism within the narrative itself. I'm especially interested in the nuance of war and how it affects people emotionally, physically, and psychologically
I also tend to reutilize some elements of the lore and/or worldbuilding! Such as the Painted Lady's backstory, or the existence of War Children within the ATLA universe.
Now, the list!
I think I'll start with my current project, if that's okay :)
For the Spirits (New Gods AU)
Zuko was a child when he met Agni. Then, the spirits started coming to him. Eyes hidden in the hallways, voices pleading for help, for recognition, for remembrance.
Zuko could see Agni. He could see the broken remains of a Great Spirit and the empty smiles of amnesiac ghosts.
And they could see him in return.
I've been working on this AU for a long time, but only now did I get the chance to start writing the fic (linked up there!). I'm extremely excited about FTS and where the story will lead us in the future, but I'll try not to spoil too much.
It's a Zuko-centric story, with a heavy emphasis on Spirits and humanity. I'd like to add a warning for depression/mental health issues.
To Hesitate (Lee & Kya AU)
As she watches Lee and Kya avoid each other's eyes from across the room, the phrase comes back to her, swift and silent:
"To hesitate is to lose."
.
As Song treats the victim of an unfortunate interaction with a rare poisonous flower, her day takes an unexpected turn when it becomes apparent that the old man's nephew and her assistant have history.
A vivid history.
The Lee & Kya AU is a vibe, a feeling. It's probably one of my oldest AUs out there as well as one of my dearest.
A classical Lee and Kya From The Tea Shop AU, full with wholesome fandom tropes such as: fake (but not really) dating, fake identities, Ba Sing Se shenanigans, vigilante stuff, White Lotus missions, Iroh is a great Uncle, Zuko is an awkward turtleduck, and, of course, the fluffiest fluff you'll ever see.
Other than that, Lee & Kya is probably one of the less plot-focused AUs I have. However, that doesn't mean that there aren't scenes I can't wait to write or a canon divergence or two where Zuko is concerned.
(I have another fic posted but I'll leave that one to the end. You asked for a full story arc and, oh boy, does Soundless deliver.)
Kintsugi AU
Closer to being canon-adjacent than canon-divergent, Kintsugi is yet another Zuko-centric AU (and are we not noticing a pattern over here?).
I'd love to explain it in depth, but I believe the caption of the artwork linked above does a better job at explaining than I ever will.
Kintsugi is the art of decorating your scars with pieces of Agni.
In the Fire Nation, the amount of golden marks are a sign of status. Only the Royal Family can afford to seal every single wound with Kintsugi. Such is the weight of this tradition that, among the ones with Agni's blood, it is the highest mark of dishonor to have a natural scar, for it proves you aren't worthy of the privilege.
After the Agni Kai, Ozai forbid Zuko's scar to be sealed with Kintsugi. The boy wasn't worth his title, his traditions or his pride. Zuko would be broken, but he wouldn't be beautiful. Not anymore.
(And sometimes it's easier to pretend he never was)
Kyoshi Warriors AU
One of my absolute favorites!
In this AU, Ursa took Zuko and Azula with her when she was banished, so they could start anew. With help from Iroh and the White Lotus, she managed to relocate her freshly burned eight-year-old child and her crying daughter to Kyoshi Island.
Years later, when Avatar Aang and his companions first arrive at Kyoshi Island, they're met by the Kyoshi Warriors and their leader, Noriko of pale skin and warm brown eyes.
The Gaang leave Kyoshi Island many weeks later with a new companion. And if Jian Li, with his war paint and his scar and his dual dao, gives the island that he has called home for so long one final, longing glance as they fly away on Appa, they pretend not to notice.
Hunters AU
We're starting to dwelve deep into dangerous waters!
This is a Katara Joins Zuko In His Quest To Find The Avatar AU, with a twist!
This AU was born as a writing experiment. What if we take Katara's character, and change one of her core characteristics? Katara, who looked up to the Avatar as a saviour figure, now blames him for leaving and allowing the Fire Nation to wage war on the world.
Then comes Zuko, a banished Prince with a crew full of traitors and his own agenda. Zuko wishes for nothing more than to dethrone his father and end the war. He is a White Lotus member, an honorable, driven young man, and he has a plan.
The catch? He needs to take the Avatar to his father if he wishes to regain his title and be able to rightfully take the throne. Oh, and he will deliver the Avatar to the Fire Lord—but nobody said it had to be in chains.
Halfblood AU
I watched Blue Eye Samurai a few months ago and it destroyed me. The idea of a half-blooded child dead set on getting revenge for their very existence stuck with me, and this AU was born.
Kanna made a life for herself in the Earth Kingdom after leaving the North. Katara was raised by her grandmother in a small village, being taught to hide her bending if she wanted to live peacefully in a place she was only half of. Her mother had died in childbirth. Her father, a nameless warrior from the Southern Water Tribe who had loved Kya and left her behind, didn't know of Katara's existence.
Katara took over Kanna's clinic after she passed away. Always taking care of others. Always suppressing her need to bend. Always wishing for more.
One day, he arrived. A half-child, just like her. But while she was of Water, he was a son of Agni. He was searching for the man who brought him to this world. The man who scarred him. The man whose face he couldn't recall, whose name he did not know. The man whose specter had chased his mother to her grave. The man who would die at his hand.
The answers were hidden in a small teashop deep within Ba Sing Se. Lee offered her a way out, and Katara took it.
Soundless (Uiscefhuaraithe)
Katara of the Southern Water Tribe has hands scarred by fire and great talent, though no teacher.
Zuko is a mute War Child, a herbalist and healer, and the Blue Spirit. He bears the mark of fire, and the scar of the blade that took away his voice.
The first time they met, the Blue Spirit had just saved her, tough not before her hands got burned. The second time they met, his name was Lee, and he was healing her.
They live in war and they will fight, if not for the world, then for themselves.
You asked for a full storyline, and I shall deliver!
Soundless is probably the only AU I have fully planned. Three-books, Azula redemption arc, role-reversals and all.
This AU has everything. From travelling through the Earth Kingdom together, to odd character team-ups that somehow manage to work, and a major goal/conflict to resolve.
Zuko and Katara must find their way to Omashu in an Earth Kingdom ravaged by war as they also grow to understand each other, themselves, and the world around them. They meet with new and old alliances, keep their ears open for rumors of the Avatar (They say he is an airbender, Lee. Do you truly belive that?), and do their best to always be two steps ahead of their pasts.
Meanwhile, both the Northern and Southern Water Tribes are searching for the runaway heiress, Aang must find his way alone on this new, hostile world, and Azula must face the revelation that, despite what her father has stated for the last two years (liar, he lied at her! Her! He lied he liedliedliedlied), her brother might just be alive.
I'm sorry for making this such a long answer! I just get very excited about these subjects and don't know when to stop. If you made it all the way down here: thank you again.
I hope you have a good day ❤️
#dema answers#zutara#atla#zuko#avatar the last airbender#katara#zutara au#for the spirits#new gods au#Spirit Touched Zuko#to hesitate#lee and kya from the tea shop au#lee and kya from the tea shop#soundless au#Soundless (Uiscefhuaraithe)#soundless#kintsugi au#halfblood au#kyoshi warrior ursa au#kyoshi warrior zuko#kyoshi warriors au#hunters au#Katara joins Zuko AU#There's another AU I didn't mention#It's set in Ba Sing Se and it's shhhh a secret#Thank you again for writing to me!#I love to share my AUs and stories and headcanons and general craziness#This took me like two hours or so to write#They were absolutely worth it
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something i did when i saw a post of joku talking about this topic: it's an interesting concept but practically impossible because nothing stops artists from continuing to create (this is convenient for ink), based on this i tried to adjust the words of the creator of dreamtale herself to her characters under an objective truth— there is no limit to the multiverse
here's the post and the translation
#i believe joku said this 'cause of the truce comic#error mentions that multiverse thingy just at the start of the comic#and talks about it again when creators destroyed their own creations#honestly i didn't notice this until now but#all that is replaced by another statement said in the uvs prologue#error goes from “those universe were erased because the multiverse reached its limit”#to “those universes were erased because their creators understood it's a waste of time”#that is surely more in character#so yeah. it's a fact error doesn't even care about the capacity of the multiverse#joku knows very well underverse doesn't fully follow every canon#she said nightmare acted quite ooc in 0.6#undertale#undertale au#utmv#dreamtale#dream sans#nightmare sans#error sans#ink sans#fluffy rambles
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I had a dream last night about an AU where Vasco and Machete were switched. Vasco was the cardinal, and Machete was the Florentine ambassador. Machete was pretty much the same minus the religious guilt, and more confident, while Vasco had a somewhat small dose of religious guilt. Vasco still got assassinated unfortunately, and Machete went down the deep end and thought that was God's way of punishing them both. He then shot himself at the place where Vasco died :/
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#oh dang I did not expect that ending#jeez#another tragic au I see#switching places didn't help#but that does sound like such a cohesive and narratively logical dream#those are my favorite but I mostly dream about either mundane boring things or about being chased by a bear#answered#anonymous#dream Vaschete sightings#should I tag this#cw sui mention
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How You Turn My Word; Chapter 2
The day continues, and this time you find yourself in an entire new world... a world called The Underground.
Character; Lilia Vanrouge
Content; Gender-neutral reader, more shenanigans, reader isn't happy
Content Warning; Intoxication (Lilia), swearing
Word Count; 2.7 K
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |
Don't put my work into AI; I'll make sure you end up in the Bog of Eternal Stench.
Lilia’s night was not going according to plan and he was mentally cursing himself over it.
Thing Lilia did not plan for #1; he got lost. To be fair though, many a thing had drastically changed since the last time he romped around the mortal realm. A few hundred years would do that though. Humans now seemed to live in tall metal boxes rather than the humble cottages of ages past.
Thing Lilia did not plan for #2; a red flower deceiving him and containing something akin to liquor. So he was flying around lost while under the influence, which only worsened his situation. (Lilia did not know it, but the red flower was in fact a hummingbird feeder with sugar water which had been left out in the sun for too long and had fermented. Make sure to change your hummingbird feeder often on hot days so you don’t cause a nectar-loving friend to fly while wasted)
Thing Lilia did not plan for #3; getting himself stuff in one of those tall metal boxes, and he was now stuck inside some cursed metal labyrinth. At least it was not iron or silver, as it did not burn, apparently, humans no longer fortified their abodes with those metals. Perhaps the times have changed for the better?
But Lilia finally escaped the infernal metal labyrinth, perhaps luck was finally on his side tonight after all! He bumped around a few corners. My my, what a small hovel. Perhaps things have not changed all that much from the last time I was here… But Lilia was rudely pulled from his thoughts when something swatted him clean out of the air. And the culprit? A rather rotund grey cat with large blue eyes, which was now carrying Lilia into its lair, most likely to play with him for a bit before deciding that it had had it’s fun and ultimately put him out of his misery.
His night went from a jolly and somewhat embarrassing tale he would regale about at the local tavern, to a bedtime story parents would tell their children about the dangers of going places that you really shouldn’t. Should he get out of this sticky situation Lilia would not live this incident down.
The cat placed Lilia in a collection of socks and then sauntered off, calling out at the top of its lungs. Great, it's getting company for supper, and I’m the appetizer. How lovely. But Lilia knew he would have a better chance of getting out of this situation if he stayed calm and waited for an opportunity to escape. Even while tipsy, he could keep his cool.
And the feline was back and yanked Lilia out of the sock hole. Cracking open his one eye he saw that the cat did not come back with its hungry friends, but rather, a human. That was both good news and bad news. Good news; he most likely was not going to be eaten tonight! Yippee! Bad news; the last time he was in bat-form in a human’s abode, he was chased around with a torch, which he really did not want to go through again. So his best course of action was to play dead in this situation.
When the human left the room though, he took his chance and took flight once again, trying to find a way out. The cat was trying to catch him again, but Lilia knew of its tricks this time and dodged every swipe it sent his way.
But he was pulled out of his thoughts when the human screeched at the cat, “YOU CAUGHT A FUCKING BAT?!”
Oh yeah, they did not sound happy, not at all, but it seemed to be directed more at their feline companion rather than him.
As he was busy flapping around, trying to find an escape but to no avail, he also heard the human whispering to him. “Don’t fly towards my head, bat. I’m just trying to get you back outside. You’re a nice bat, right? Nice bat, nice bat.”
Were he not preoccupied and in a better state of mind, Lilia would have been amused by this. Currently, though he was occupied with trying not to be eaten and finding a way out of this cursed place. He was not in a laughing mood. All Lilia wanted to do was get back home, pass out in his bed but he would also be happy with his sofa as well, and pretend that this was nothing more than a bad dream after a night spent tavern hopping. Dealing with a horrid hangover would be better than this… and he was most likely going to have one of those anyways. Tonight really wasn’t Lilia’s night, not at all.
Then the human grabbed the cat, and Lilia was finally left alone. The window was open, but he didn’t know that, as his mind was too preoccupied with you know, not dying, that he hadn’t noticed that the human had opened it for him. So where did Lilia go? Well, he went back into the metal labyrinth (air duct), and fumbled around until he tired himself out. It wasn’t the most ideal of spots to crash for the night, but it was better than going back and possibly being eaten, Lilia would rather avoid that. So this was going to be his bed for the night, a lonely quiet corner of the air duct system, where he could hopefully wake up sober tomorrow. But he yearned for his warm quilts that awaited for him back at home, back in Faerie, or as some call it, the Underground.
Lilia wasn’t even supposed to be in the mortal realm in the first place, but curiosity had won him over, and he even ignored the travel advisory that was in place. Some crow fae had travelled there about a century or so ago and had yet to return back, hence a travel advisory. But yet here he was in the mortal realm, tiny, drunk, and utterly lost. His bad decisions could be looked into further detail once he got some shut-eye. So he wrapped himself in his wings and passed out in the corner of the air vent. Hopefully, when he woke up he could turn this disastrous day around.
…
Upon waking up, Lilia groaned — or rather, in this case, squeaked — and stretched his wings out. So the wretched metal maze and last night's fiasco was not some liquor-hazed dream; how lovely. Utterly delightful.
At least the strange maze echoed sound quite well, so he knew what exits to avoid. Not that one, he could hear a dog barking, and the feline encounter was enough for him. No, not that one either, he could hear children screaming.
Finally, he came to an opening, there was some quiet chatter, but it was far enough away where Lilia felt comfortable enough to explore this potential escape route.
Why does this look familiar? AM I BACK IN THE BUILDING?! Yes, yes he was. At least there was no sign of the ca–
“Mrp?” Speak of the devil.
The cat got out of its den and lept at Lilia, who dodged the attack, and the cat pushed some books off a desk. The cat was also screaming at him, and causing an all-around ruckus. Lilia managed to outmaneuver the feline, but soon a brand new human came into the scene.
The new human took one look at Lilia and backpedalled out of the room. But the human had just created another escape route for him, and Lilia flew, well, like a bat straight out of hell for it. Too bad the next room contained two more humans, including the one he had encountered from last night… maybe they would be nice again and spare him for trespassing on their small abode?
In the midst of the chaos, the human from last night knocked him out of the air with a broom. Okay, that hurt little Beastie. But that swing and the crash landing into a table caused Lilia to shift back into his human form, which also caused sparkles to happen. Did humans still think magic was evil? Well, he was about to find out.
Everyone remained silent, and after the sheer noise of the chaos, it was deafening, even the cat was quiet. And Lilia stared at the human that had knocked him out of the air, you. And you were staring straight back at him, looking utterly baffled. Well, this is awkward… I think I have overstayed my welcome…
Lilia snapped his fingers, and he started to disappear into sparkles yet again, this time going home since he wasn’t able to use his magic when stuck in bat form. And it was happening without a pinch, but you seemed to trip on thin air and crash landed on his feet, disappearing with him; a stowaway coming to Faerie.
… Well this is no good now, is it?
…
…
…
When the green sparkles subsided, you found yourself sitting in some sort of bog, and the water had made it into your mouth by some twist of fate. While you were busy spitting the bog water out of your mouth, the stranger was standing by the bank, dry, without any sulfuric-tasting water in his mouth, and looking better for wear.
Pulling yourself out of the bog water — eugh, you smelled like eggs now, great — you pointed an accusatory finger at him, water dripping from the end. “Where,” you spat out some extra bog water from your mouth, “am I? And why does it reak of eggs?!” You would have looked and sounded more imposing, but you were sopping wet, covered in mud, and spitting out coughs trying to get the bad taste out of your mouth; which wasn’t really commanding any sort of respect.
The stranger, Lilia, snorted before letting out a cough, trying to hide his amusement very poorly. He waved his hand, green sparkles surrounded you and you were now dry, still covered in mud, but dry. “Faerie, although some call it the Underground.”
You opened your mouth, but he wagged his finger at you. “And before you blame me for bringing you here, you have no one to blame for this but yourself!” Despite the cheeriness, there was something cold and off putting in his eyes, like he was calculating something. But that moment passed, and the almost annoying cheerful facade came back in full. “As for the smell? That so happens to be The Bog of Eternal Stench!”
“Like eternal eternal?” You really didn’t need to smell like rotten eggs for the rest of your days.
The stranger just chuckled, “Fret not, Beastie, I decided to return the favour, since your feline friend decided not to eat me. But it is indeed ‘eternal eternal’ if you don’t have the means to get rid of it.”
Beastie? “Uh, okay.” not the most eloquent of things to say, but really, could anyone blame you? You just fell through some kind of portal, magic(?) was real, and oh yeah, so were fae/faeries or whatever the hell they called themselves. So ‘Uh, okay’ was perfectly fine in this situation.
Mr. Sparkles — if he was going to call you Beastie, he deserved a dumb nickname — just gave you a smile, exposing the barest hint of his fangs; despite his small frame, he was still dangerous, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. It was as if he was assessing you, to see if you would be worth the trouble to help. You didn’t know if either option would be good by the way his magenta eyes twinkled with mischief.
He let out a huff and started walking away, and you followed. “I wouldn’t recommend following me, Beastie,” he hummed, and you tripped over a rock, vines keeping you to the moss. “The court would not take kindly to you.”
You glared at him and tried ripping the vines off of your feet, but they didn’t budge. “And why should I listen to you?”
Mr. Sparkles booped you on the nose, “Well, it would ensure that you made it out of here alive, which I believe you would find beneficial and all.”
Obnoxious prick. But he did have a point, you would rather make it back home alive rather than fucking around and finding out (aka dying). “So what? Are you going to just leave me here? No welcome brochure? Thanks.”
You were being sarcastic, since it was either sarcasm or having a full-on existential crisis, since hey, magic wasn’t real in your world! Dimension? Galaxy? Where the fuck was this place?! How the hell did you end up here?!
“Hmm good point…” he snapped his fingers and there was now a book sitting in your lap. “This should suffice, do be warned though, Beastie, I may call on you later to return the favour. For now though,” he started to turn into green sparkles, “toodaloo!~” And he turned into a bat, flying off into the sunset, leaving you alone at the edge of the swamp with the only things to your name being the clothes on your back and a book in your lap.
How to Survive the Underground; For Humans! … Did he just give you this world’s equivalent of a For Dummies book? What the fuck? Was this kind of sick joke to him?
…
…
Once some of your ire had subsided, you decided to sit down on a boulder and read a bit of the book while there was still some sunlight out, but it was dipping into the horizon fast.
How to Survive the Underground; For Humans! By Yelworc Erid Preface …… i - iv Chapter 1; Surviving Your First Night…… 1 - 10 Chapter 2; Edible Food for Humans …… 11 - 31 Chapter 3; The Basics of Fae Etiquette …… 32 - 35 3.1; Species Specifics …… 36 - 146 3.2; Government Specifics …… 147 - 169 Chapter 4; Help! I Have Been Indentured to a Fae! …… 170 - 200 Chapter 5; Adjusting to Fae Social Life …… 201 - 224 Chapter 6; Transmittable Illnesses & Diseases …… 225 - 261 Chapter 7; Fae Courting Practices …… 262 - 264 7.1; Species Specifications …… 265 - 366 7.2; Government Specifications …… 367 - 389 7.3; Accepting a Courting Proposal …… 390 - 393 7.4; Refusing a Courting Proposal …… 394 - 401 Chapter 8; How to Handle Fae Children …… 402 - 452 Chapter 9; How to Leave the Underground … 453 Chapter 10; Adjusting to Life in the Underground …… 454 - 482 Acknowledgments …… 483 - 485
Looking back up to the horizon, you quickly turned the pages to Chapter 1; Surviving Your First Night.
“If you are unable to find yourself some suitable shelter, one should find themselves safe by camping out in a rowan tree. These trees can easily be found by their vermillion clusters of berries. They keep away all native species of the Underground,” you read out loud, turning your attention to the trees nearby, searching for those berries. “Rowan tree, rowan tree–”
A loud screech coming from the undergrowth only pushed you further.
Nope, I do not want to find out what THAT was! Nope! NoPe! NOPE!
Finally, you found a tall enough tree and you hauled your ass up it like there was a fire below you, and you were up in the canopy, far enough up that nothing could reach you, but also high enough where you needed to be careful, since you didn’t want to meet an early death because you made a wrong move. But for now, you were safe.
“Nice try buddy,” you muttered to yourself, trying to get comfy. Wood wasn’t the comfiest thing in the world, but you weren’t really in the position to be complaining. “I am not on the menu.”
The screech came again, this time closer; yeah, you weren’t sleeping tonight. The sun was now beyond the horizon, and there was no moon, the only light coming from the stars above; it was very pretty, but you could see jack shit. This was going to be a long night… and not a fun one, since you could also see the glowing eyes of unknown creatures which were, quite frankly, freaky as fuck. So yeah, no sleep for you.
“This fucking sucks,” you grumbled, and a chittering from the bog seemed to mock you. “This really fucking sucks.”
…
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…
…
Tags; @busycloudy, @eynnwwyjth, @identity-theft-101, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @lucid-stories, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii
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Author's Note; This chapter is shorter, but it felt natural to end the chapter like this. This chapter, and the previous one, were both rewrites of an old WIP, so from here on out I don't have to rewrite! YIPPEE!!! Rewriting takes me forever, so we shall see what I come up with next.
If you liked this, do check out my masterlist for more content!
#twst#twst x reader#twst x gn reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland x gn reader#lilia vanrouge#lilia vanrouge x reader#lilia vanrouge x gn reader#still building up that aspect; yeah it's gonna be a while but that allows for some yearning#got another labyrinth mention in there#i decided to be nice to reader where they don't end up smelling like rotten eggs for their entire stay in the underground;#; it would be funny but reader has been through enough without needing to smell bad on top of that#twst labyrinth au#gilf enjoyers rejoice#why does rewriting take me so damn long? i even deleted scenes that i didn't feel like keeping#writing is pain and suffering yet it brings me immense joy... not gonna elaborate on that#not a bunch of fun stuff hidden in the tags this time but oh well
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Hi! I dont usually ever send asks but I saw your post about including more DC characters in your AU's and was wondering if you were ever planning on including Kate Kane and/or Renee Montoya as they are two of my favourite characters in all of DC and almost never appear in batfamily fics even though they both work with oracle, nightwing, huntress, and other members a surprising amount in the comics. I like the idea of Kate especially being reluctantly enamoured with Peter, and that she would remind him of Col. Rhodes as I feel they have similar no-nonsense attitudes, dogged determination, and militant mannerisms while being pretty gentle on the inside. You might have answered this before but are Peter and Col. Rhodes close? I would assume they at least know each other pretty well from his friendship with Tony. Also thank you so much for LOF and all your writing - it genuinely brings me so much joy. <3
i 100000% want to write Kate Kane in the future, though i still need to read up on her, Renee, and Helena to make sure i'm writing them correctly. i started LoF worried about juggling too many characters in the plot and also didn't actually know a lot about the batfam outside of what i'd already been reading, considering LoF was supposed to just be me and alighterwood messing around with a silly au, i didn't think to put more than the cast we have. other aus will definitely have them in the future because i feel bad i missed out on them. i briefly considered putting at least Kate in LoF, but i feel like she would have at least been MENTIONED before now, and it would feel like a cheap throw in. she deserves more attention in another au
and i hadn't thought about it, but Kate and Rhodey ARE pretty similar. Since Rhodey is Tony's best friend, he and Peter get along very well! i hadn't mentioned him too much in LoF itself because, well, LoF was supposed to be 15 chapters originally. it was supposed to be wrapped up a while ago but then i got a little too into writing it. and i made a mistake forgetting how present he'd have been in Peter's life. admittedly, this comes back to me having a hard time juggling so many characters. he'll be showing back up in a couple chapters (when we finally get our Avengers POV) and i hope to remedy that mistake
#i mean he's been mentioned a couple times in LoF? i think?#so i could have done worse and not mentioned him at all#so i'm giving myself a C+ for how he's been handled so far#because peter had been fairly focused on the situation involving his parental figures and his training more than anything#so if they weren't actively training with Peter or were not a parental figure they weren't mentioned as much#i had a rhodey counterpart mentioned in the chapter with happy's counterpart#but i think i scrapped it because it didn't feel like it fit his character#so yeah here's hoping i can give rhodey the attention he deserves later#as well as Kate and Renee and Helena in another au#erinwantstowrite#ao3#ao3 fanfic#leap of faith ao3#leap of faith catch me if you can#thank you for the ask!#peter parker in gotham#dc#marvel
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Obsessions - Family
A/n: So, a while back, I made this little thing about obsession speculations. Well, I made a few oneshots about that even further back and just found them. It's a mini-series that looks like it was attached to another fanfic plan? Well, I have no idea what the plan was, so I'm giving you this. There are 4 parts I made? This and the 3rd part are finished, but the 2nd and 4th are incomplete. Better together but still understandable as a standalone, you know?
Summary: Jazz has finally gotten through to Vlad in their therapy sessions. Danny is a bit on edge but relieved. Then Vlad has a talk with Jack and Maddie. Many things are shared.
TW: Unprofessional and very improvised medical treatment, mention of stalking, mention of attempted murder, intensified canonical death(s) (I made it so much worse, but it's not too detailed), hints at suicidal thoughts, hints as attempts, internalized homophobia, polyamory (I don't consider it a trigger but some people don't like it so whatever), mention of a dead kitten
Vlad/Maddie/Jack; Danny's obsession is Space and Protection; Vlad's obsession is Family; Liminal amity Park; Vlad loves animals; Amity is Danny's haunt and the people, animals, ghosts, and more sentient plants that live there are his people; Ghosts feel things more intensely and it's overwhelming for halfas who are also still alive and not built or used to it; ghosts are empaths, they know what other people around them are feeling
Danny was sitting on his bed with a needle and fishing line in hand, sewing a particularly long and deep enough cut from his last fight, when his door slammed open. He jumped, eyes wide, blood draining from his face, and heart entirely stopping.
He feared the worst, thinking about how to explain to his parents about such a large injury that couldn’t possibly be from bullying, but then he realized who it was. Jazz.
She was more frazzled, hair a mess and panting heavily. But thanks to ghost speak, allowing him to be the best empath a living person could be, he could tell she wasn’t scared or panicking. It was similar in intensity, but it was the opposite. She was excited and enthusiastic.
“I did it!” She laughed. Tears were springing forth from her eyes as she paced around, waving her hands around. “I actually did it! I-I helped him- I convinced- I- Holy shit, Danny! I did it!”
Danny sighed, shoulders slumping without the previous worry he harbored. He allowed his heart to beat once more, finishing his stitches as Jazz let out her excitement and… relief? No, it was satisfaction. Huh.
“It wasn’t- I didn’t think that- Wow! I didn’t know how it was all going to work because of how obsessions work and his seemed like it was leaning towards control but- But it wasn’t! And while the situation is a bit weird now, it’s- I got a breakthrough!”
Danny raised a brow as he looked up, having finished tying the knot and snipping off the rest while she spoke.
“Can I ask or are you implementing privacy protocols?”
Jazz took a few breaths, letting out a few airy chuckles.
“I-... No it’s…” She took another breath. “Vlad- I’ve been talking to him.” she quickly went to clarify once seeing Danny tense. “And yes, I’m fine. He hasn’t done anything. He’s sent me gifts and sent me a bunch of textbooks and all that- but nothing over the moon.”
Danny pursed his lips, making Jazz smile. He always hated how she’d slip in astronomy into the conversation to calm him down. She knew how it affected his ghostly side. It was like a sedative, a drug. It worked every time.
He was worried the addiction would grow like it had for other ghosts. Jazz stated that it was more like a prescription for a health condition. After that conversation, it clicked. She must’ve been talking with Frostbite. Damn her empathetic nature. It wasn’t even caused by some instinct (though he supposed that she may have a mother’s instinct with how she always saw through him).
“When did you…?”
“He wasn’t sure which place to get Maddie from and what would be best suited for them.” It took a moment for Danny to remember about Vlad's first cat.
“But why did he ask you?”
“He thought I wanted to be a vet. And yes, I did for a while just to be around animals. Always wanted a snake- but it wasn’t really… Anyway- The last time Mom talked about me before the incident, it was about me helping a friend with their grumpy cat.”
“Well, he went to the right person, I guess. He officially has 4 of them now.”
“Officially?”
“Remember the whole stray thing?”
It started with Danny finding a dead kitten in a parking lot. His obsession about protecting his people, including the animals and even some plants, had hit him hard. He ended up crying to Vlad about it when the older halfa saw him going on a frenzy to find all the strays in Amity to see if they were ok.
Vlad decided to join him and bought a whole building for the strays they've found. It's a play area open for adoption and just to hang out. But before that, he had to keep them in his mansion. He had to throw out his old wardrobe because of all the fur.
It was funny to think back on. Vlad spoiled them so much but refused to admit how attached he got to them even when he had 3 kittens climbing him, a surprise raccoon on his shoulders, and 2 dogs running circles around him.
“Oh, right.” Jazz snickered a bit before shaking her head. “After approaching him enough times while you were out, I was able to start talking with him. And now, he came to a conclusion!”
“And that is…?”
Jazz hesitated for a moment.
“So… how do you feel about hooking him up with mom-”
He opened his mouth.
“-and dad?”
He closed it, eyes now wide. Jazz pursed her lips, analyzing every micro-expression before falling back into therapist-brain when she found nothing.
“I know you aren’t comfortable with him after everything, but you must’ve noticed how he’s calmed down a bit, right? He’s trying and-”
“It’s related to his obsession. He has one.” Danny interrupted; Jazz could hear his slow relief sneaking in. “It’s not… You said it wasn’t control. It's... it's really not?” His expression held hesitant hope. As if he was trying to be careful not to get his hopes up.
Jazz smiled softly. “No, it’s not.”
Danny let out a small sigh of relief, slumping forward. Jazz could see the energy- something similar to adrenaline- drain out of him. He looked more tired now.
The exhaustion he carried was identical to that of a retired veteran soldier. It made a piece of her ache each time he let loose enough to show it. It made her wilt when she saw the similar expressions on his friends as well.
Val was an exception, but it was only because she acted like a military person during training rather than after war.
It made sense.
She hated how it did.
He looked up again, now with a more appreciative look. One that was thankful and genuinely happy.
“Congratulations on your breakthrough.”
“It’ll be a bit easier now, right?”
Danny let out a small chuckle. “Maybe.” He let out another sigh as his head spun a bit from the relief.
He could feel how fuzzy everything was starting to become as something in him twisted. He could feel his core amplifying whatever emotions he was feeling to the point he felt numb. The feeling made it harder to tell if he was breathing, it made it harder to stay in the moment.
He could see Jazz coming closer and he could only smile. He was happy. He was so happy. It felt like he was a step closer to completing something.
“Maybe…”
---
“Can we talk? Just the 3 of us?”
It was a few days after another session with Jazz when he finally convinced himself to talk with Maddie and Jack. Maddie looked at him more skeptically.
It was to be expected, and it made his core want to cry. But Jack accepted without hesitation, looking more than excited to see him. He smiled a bit, feeling his core mend itself with the acceptance alone that he received from Jack of all people. The very person he wanted to kill until about a week ago.
They shuffled to the living room where Vlad could finally sense Daniel in his room along with Jazz’s liminality along with him. It was always difficult to sense liminals, ghosts, or even Daniel in the household due to how much ectoplasm the scientists dealt with. It was worse than how difficult it was to track Daniel’s presence (ghost form or not) when he left Amity Park while Daniel out with his friends or at school.
It’s why he implemented cameras. He had deactivated them once the second truce came around, instead deciding to call Jazz regularly for updates. She was fully honest with him, it was relieving. It made his core hum with glee.
“So what did you want to talk about, Vladdie?”
Vlad took a shaky breath. He didn’t want to lie anymore. He didn’t talk about this to any of the children, but he didn’t want things to bite him back in the future if this worked out.
“Remember the proto-portal? The one we made back in college?”
“Yes?” Maddie confirmed hesitantly, feeling the tension of the room grow.
“Something happened to me then. I got a disease of sorts. It was fatal.”
The 2 of them stilled.
“But you recovered!” Jack exclaimed, though there was a growing puddle of fear. Of concern.
Vlad took another breath, eyes starting to sting.
“I was put into intensive care. They didn’t know what to do, it was a new field entirely. I kept getting sicker and sicker until they gave up and prescribed pain meds in dosages that should’ve been lethal near the end.”
Their hearts dropping was almost audible. Jack’s expression crumbled and Maddie’s became unrecognizable. There was too much weight in her emotions to try and piece together what she was feeling. He was too scared to find out. He was too scared to regret not saying the words “I wish” when his recovery picked up years ago.
He remembered the months during his recovery after he became a halfa. He woke up feeling a rush of so much that he felt numb until he could process it properly. He was still under immense danger of dying. He argued with the doctors, even begged, to go back into the coma he was placed into. He wanted to die without fear or any more pain.
They told him that he’d heal quicker if he was awake. That he was getting to the top of that hill. That he’d go downhill at top speed to his full recovery. He didn't believe them; he didn't want to hope. But heal, he did.
But it was so different as he did.
Too different.
He felt things so much more and it was so intense. His emotions were so strong that he couldn’t stand existing any longer in his lonely room. A room he thought he’d have to stay in for the rest of his life when his condition would go back to life threatening.
“I-” His voice cracked a bit, turning to Jack. “I thought what I felt for you was hate. That I blamed you for what happened to me.”
He wanted someone beside him then. He craved warmth he had only gotten from Maddie and Jack. The feelings he held for Maddie were so simple to understand at that time. It was socially accepted. What he felt for Jack was different. It was, in fact, much more intense. Shivers and goosebumps each time he remembered how Jack would hold him when he got a small injury or was out of breath trying to catch up to the athlete. He felt so small, so vulnerable.
“Vlad-” Jack started, his heart shattering from the fall and flowing through his voice. Vlad could see his tears at the edge of his eyes, ready to begin a stream.
To Maddie, he felt like he could provide whatever she wanted.
To Jack, he thought he felt like he was being treated like someone below him, that he needed to be doted on to be on par with the 2 of them.
But that wasn’t it.
To Jack, he felt like he didn’t have to shoulder any burdens. That he could be loved without truly doing anything in return, that he didn’t need to do anything but be himself.
“It only made sense in those times that it couldn’t be anything but. However…” He turned to Maddie and smiled softly. “It turns out that it wasn’t just you.”
He hadn’t understood it until Jasmine convinced him into therapy lessons. Practice, she claimed, she swore, she lied. She reminded him of how passionate ghosts were. How passionate he was and is.
It was then that he found that he loved Jack more than Maddie at first. That it was such an intense feeling that he confused it with hatred.
It didn’t help that their relationship would’ve been frowned upon then, that it would’ve been impossible and potentially illegal to seal the deal with a ring or even a simple kiss.
It took a moment for her to understand what Vlad was referring to. Her eyes widened, jaw dropping as she looked over at Jack before back at Vlad. Vlad nodded. She shook her head and took a breath.
“What? What do you mean-” Jack was still in the dark. Though, he always was the dense one. “You… You don’t hate me?”
“No, Jack. Though I hope that after this, you’ll be willing to give me a chance.”
“After- I don’t understand.” Jack turned to his wife. “What does he mean? The illness and ‘not just you’? What is he talking about?”
Maddie placed a hand on his shoulder, lips starting to wobble. She seemed to shake her head for a moment.
“He’s been-” She paused, eyes widening slightly before she let out a broken laugh. “He’s been obsessed with me for a long time. And… well, I guess you’re a target now too.”
Jack took a moment to process her words before his face flushed scarlet red. Though he couldn’t speak a word or react further. He simply froze up, making Maddie smile before her lips wobbled and dropped it.
“Are you normally so aggressive?”
The topic was obvious. It made Vlad hopeful that she’d listen.
“No. I was in denial and it had made me sick. For those of my kind, emotional and mental pain is like physical pain to the living. Denying my… my purpose for existing, my obsession, took a toll on me. Ghosts that attack Amity aren’t actually aiming to hurt people. They tend to go too far and forget how fragile living beings tend to be, especially humans.”
Maddie took a breath, looking down.
“They know.” It wasn’t a question.
“They know.” Vlad confirmed. Jazz and Danny knew about him from the very beginning.
Maddie took another breath.
“Why Danny?” Why did you obsess over him like you did with me?
“What- what about Dann-o?” Jack blinked back in.
“It was easier to get to him than Jasmine in my mind. Not only is he a male, but he was struggling with studies. There was also a sort of… connection I had with him. Perhaps it’s due to that portal downstairs. He has been exposed since the womb. Your children have not been fully human for a long time. Liminals at the very least, just as the city is becoming.”
“The city..?”
“Let’s just say that the ambient ectoplasm is the only thing blocking their signatures while that portal is only strengthening their liminality.”
“...”
Jack and Maddie seemed more sick. But Jack shook his head, getting himself back into the topic at hand.
“So- You-... You’re an ectoplasmic entity?”
Vlad swallowed.
“Yes… I’m what they’d call a halfa. According to a roommate, the long exposure from the proto-portal had forced my body to eventually adapt to it and learn to circulate and circulate it differently until it had… Halfas need to go through the process multiple times before they’re stuck as part of the living and part of the dead.”
“Vladdie…”
“I did not feel the final process. I was put into a medical coma. According to the doctors, I had flatlined multiple times and they had to shock me back plenty of times before I became what I am. I still get reminders, but that is a topic for another time.”
It was silent after that. Jack moved almost robotically as he came over, pushing up a sleeve and checking for his pulse. It was too feint to detect from there. He went for his neck next, looking up to Vlad in case he wished for him to give him space. Vlad didn’t fight back, so Jack started focusing on the pulse rate and translating it.
20 beats per minute.
It used to be a low average of 60-70 bpm. It had slowed over the years. He didn’t want to think what would happen when it finally stopped for good. It was already hard enough to remember he had to give a little thought of keeping some semblance of being alive when he was still so tempted to utter a wish.
Maddie came up next to him, lightly pushing him so he’d move enough to let her continue the silent physical exam. Once he did, she started checking his breathing. Then his reflex speed of his eyes in response to light. Then his joint reflexes.
They did all sorts of harmless tests, Maddie writing them down. After finishing the doctor check-up basics, they gave him some room. It made him both relieved and even more scared.
“Would a concussion show as a normal reaction speed?” Maddie asked.
Vlad blinked.
“Ah… No. While it’s much faster now, pupil dilation while concussed is the same as a normal person. Also, bleeding is less in volume, but I can self-heal.”
Maddie nodded and wrote it down.
“Do… Do ghosts have doctors? What if you get sick? We don’t know enough to help you if you do.” Maddie mentioned.
“What… What are you saying?” Please, please be what I’m thinking.
Jack placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling brightly.
“I think we have some time to make up! I’ll make some fudge!”
Maddie grabbed his shoulder before he could rush to the kitchen.
“I may be a little… on edge about this whole thing, but with time, I think we can be something. The 3 of us.”
Vlad’s eyes widened and teared up, his core practically squealing in delight. He felt as though his body was lighter. It felt easier to breathe, to make his heart beat, to- to exist.
All he needed to do was give it time. He hoped they’d be as accepting with Daniel as they were with him. And Danielle… They’d accept her too, won’t they? He hoped they’d forgive him about that. It wasn’t his… best moment.
He didn’t realize he started crying until he was pulled into a tight embrace by Jack, who had moved him onto his lap to comfort him. Maddie left them to it, deciding her next step.
She had traps to get rid of and weapons to recalibrate.
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A/n: Yes, Danny did faint. Why was that? Well, I'm not telling. comment what you think though. Hope you enjoyed.
Also, the next chapter or whatever, it's a dc x dp thing. I'll comment when the next chapter is up and add 2 links, a masterlist and part 2.
#danny phantom#vlad plasmius#ghost obsessions#Vlad's obsession is family#Danny's obsession is space and protection#liminal amity park#good reveal au#only for Vlad for now#Danny did like Vlad before the truce but he also didn't like him for obvious reasons#Vlad didn't ignore Jazz she just didn't mention it to anyone and didn't fight against the attention like Danny did#so Vlad was less possessive over her than Danny#she used that to force therapy onto him#he spoils her the best he can so he went with it#Vlad/Maddie/Jack#College Triangle#Family Breakfast#PacQueen#Pacman^3#What are these ship names???#Is there another I could use that sounds better???
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Go play pretend on your own (Patreon)
#Doodles#Helix#Dexter Favin#Coraline#The Beldam#The other side of this coin <3 Call him out but this time make it unfriendly hehe#I talked last time about the daring rescue!! I do love the daring rescue in Coraline AUs ah same thing with the Camp Camp Coraline AU haha#Burst in through the door! Those poor hinges!#It is a bit funny imagining him crawling through the tunnel in a hurry and kicking the doors open all winded haha <3#It's all very serious of course Max needs help! Stuck behind the mirror from disobeying perhaps?#I was pretty hard on him last time that he'd just Immediately give up his soul for cheap tricks but like - would he?#Yes he's reckless and foolish but he's also stubborn and prideful and hates being told what to do so there's that lol#Which does he want more! The high or his freedom to refuse? I could see it going either way#And for Dex's sake I would hope he'd refuse! As if he hasn't suffered enough eye trauma (eventually)#Ough the thought of him starting to say yes and getting one button eye in and then rescinding his yes ouch#Doomed to have one eye no matter where he goes ah 💔#Anyway - Dex!!! Watch I'll make another one with the ideas mentioned here and then talk about more ideas in those tags pft#Since agreeing with him didn't work how about shaming? ''Go away you're no better''#She really is going hard on him like ''What's your angle? You get him back and then what? Will that actually fix anything?''#Very much pulling from Dexter's meetings with Max at the Institute there hhhhhh as if I needed more feelings about it#Eco_Mono did such a beautiful job playing Dex - so much to consider hehe - but there was one question that I can't stop thinking about#''Why would you want him back?'' and Dexter didn't really have much of an answer - he was barely more than a concept at the time!#Having had the opportunity to see his character grow into himself has given me Such brainworms about that question ♥♪♫#Very want to explore it <3#In the meanwhile it's fun to pit these two against each other haha what an odd matchup ♪#I've only barely drawn the Beldam before now that I think of it! And I think only in her final metal-spidery form never in her mid form here#She's fun :D And so tall! Dexter finally feeling small for a change haha#Her having to fight adult selfishness would be quite interesting I think - something tinged with but not quite the same as loyalty#She can relate to the possessiveness at least hehe I'm sure he'd appreciate the comparison
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Encrypted in dread cipher, paradox-multiplied, but it is me, yes, still me, your goldfinch friend.
#doodlings /#er au#//have this little preview of a thing!#I mentioned here and there that I had in mind a ''boss'' form for heysel#I really really wanted to write a little story like inside the wishing well to go with it-#but between one thing and another I didn't#it's still in the drafts though!#and I'll post more about this another time anyway :3#tldr; it's not a hypothetical boss form but something she'll be able to do later
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Valicer Polyship Week 2024, Day One: Team As Polycule (Valicer In The Dark AU)
Hello everyone, and welcome to Valicer Polyship Week 2024! :D Where, just like in 2023, you will get a daily Valicer fic based on one of the prompts from the official Polyship Week 2024 prompt list, courtesy of, naturally, @polyshipweek! Today is Day One, and the prompt I chose was "Team As Polycule" -- mostly because it immediately made me think of my Valicer In The Dark trio, and how they are a criminal crew as well as a polycule. Though, interestingly, the story that I came up with doesn't have actually have them doing a score together or anything like that. Instead, I ended up writing something about Alice being told that romancing her fellow crewmates is a bad idea by the leader of another gang in the area, and taking semi-violent offense to said leader poking her nose into her business. :P Not sure why my mind went off in that direction -- but as you will see tomorrow, apparently I really wanted to write "someone is a jerk to one of the trio, only to get theirs in the end" this year...
--
“You know, it’s not a good idea to mix pleasure and work.”
Alice blinked, then looked over to see one Nessa, leader of the Gray Cloaks, standing by the door to the bathroom, arms folded across her chest and mouth thin with displeasure. “It’s not going to end well,” she continued. “Sooner or later, the tower of cards always collapses.”
“Right.” Alice shook her hands off above the cracked sink basin before reaching for the towel. “First of all, did you really follow me in here to say that? And second of all – what? What are you talking about?”
“Yes, I did, because I had to go anyway – and I didn’t want to say this with your two, ah, friends overhearing,” Nessa replied, jerking her head toward the door and, implicitly, at Victor and Smiler back at their table. “And you know what I’m talking about. You’re playing a dangerous game, getting – involved with your partners in crime.”
Alice’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe I asked your opinion on my love life,” she said coolly, drying her hands.
“You’re getting it anyway,” Nessa said, untroubled by her tone. “Because I think too much of you to let you make a stupid mistake. Look, you’re easily the most sensible one in your little gang–”
“Me? I’m the one who talks to things that don’t exist on the regular,” Alice cut in, raising an eyebrow. At her feet, Cheshire covered a chuckle with his paw. “Just underlining my point there, Cat.”
“Sure, fine, but look at the two people you hang around with,” Nessa insisted. “Your Whisper’s a slip of a thing from money, and spends his time sticking his nose too far into his books and fiddling around with things he doesn’t understand. And your Leech…” Nessa rolled her eyes. “Well. They’re an Advocate. We all know what that lot is like.” She pointed at Alice. “But you? You know that this world’s a stupid, cruel, cold place, full of people that are as likely to stab you in the back as they are to shake your hand and give you a smile. And you’re more than ready to do the stabbing if you have to. You’re the one who sees things as they are.”
“Except when I don’t,” Alice said, watching as a tentacle poked its way through a hole in the ceiling. “Though I suppose I should take a compliment when it is offered. But what exactly is your point here, Nessa? I know you have one, even if it’s just hidden in your cloak.”
“My point is that you should be smart enough to know that getting personally involved with your crew is only going to lead to trouble,” Nessa said, shaking her head. “You can’t trust them that far, no matter what they might whisper in your ear in the middle of the Names. It’s common knowledge that Roric and Lyssa were lovers before she tore his belly open and dumped him in Ratblood Canal so she could get the Crows all to herself. Less common that Mylera of the Red Sashes used to be a spy in the Lampblack ranks, and seduced a few secrets out of Baz himself before running back to her own to destroy him. And don’t get me started on what happened between the Billhooks’ Tarvul and his wife before she ended up in Bellweather Crematorium and he in Ironhook Prison…” She huffed. “Point is, this city is rife with idiots who took a chance on getting close to their fellow scoundrels, and paid the price. And I see the way you look at your crew, and – I know you’re gonna get hurt.” She sighed, letting her arms drop. “Van Dort grew up rich, Alice – the minute he thinks he’s got enough Coin to get back into proper society, he’s going to ditch you without a second thought. And Alton – I bet you you’re never more than one too many frowns away from being stuck with a syringe and dragged back to their headquarters to get your head ‘corrected.’ Maybe you three work well enough together now, but – you can’t trust ‘em to treat you right.”
“I see.” Alice hung the towel back on its little hook. “Is that your entire piece?”
“Yeah,” Nessa nodded. “Just had to get it out there.”
“Excellent.” Alice took a moment to brush her hair back from her face –
Then, before Nessa could move an inch, she slammed the woman up against the wall, putting her knife against her throat. “Here’s mine then – keep your fucking nose out of my fucking business,” she hissed. “You think Victor wants to go back to a life where the weight of his parents’ expectations made him miserable? You think Smiler doesn’t care enough about me to know that getting me high on Joy Serum is the worst way to make me happy? You honestly think I’m stupid for daring to fall in love with the first two people who ever actually treated me like I was a person and not just a broken simulacrum of one? You don’t know anything about us, then. And I’ll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself in future.”
Nessa stared at her, eyes wide and breathing hard – and, judging by the sudden smell, no longer with a need to go to the toilet. Alice released her and tucked her blade away again. “Good talk,” she said simply, then headed back out into the Ball & Socket.
As she’d expected, Victor and Smiler were still at their table, finishing off their food. “Was that Nessa that just followed you into the bathroom?” Smiler asked as she sat back down again. “Thought I recognized her braid.”
“It was,” Alice confirmed. “We just had a rather illuminating chat.”
“Oh?” Victor said, dabbing his mouth with his napkin. “What about?”
Alice responded by grabbing his tie and pulling him in for a kiss. “About how she’s an arsehole who thinks you two are idiots and I’m an idiot for being in love with you,” she said after releasing him. “And how, if she doesn’t believe a crew can trust each other enough to be together more – intimately than normal, that’s not my problem.”
“Uh – ah – oh,” Victor said, blinking as his brain tried to catch up. “I – I see. I think.”
“I definitely see – that was rude of her,” Smiler said, defying their name by frowning. “I mean, sure, probably what we have together isn’t conventional for a crew, but – I like what we’ve got.”
“Me too,” Victor agreed, before leaning over to give Smiler a quick kiss, apparently worried they’d feel left out otherwise. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been with you two.”
Alice smiled at them, taking both their hands in hers. “I feel the same. And trust me, Nessa knows that very well now.” She glanced over to where the Gray Cloaks were huddled, looking a bit nervous about how their leader hadn’t come out of the bathroom yet. “So – no offering our services to help them gather more evidence about how they were framed right now?”
“Hell no,” Smiler said succinctly. “Maybe the Lost could use our help instead – I heard that they’ve got a vendetta against the owner of the Cordelia Furniture factory now...”
#valicer polyship week#PolyshipWeek24#valicer#fanfic#valicer in the dark au#alice liddell#victor van dort#smiler alton#the smiler#corpse bride#alice madness returns#blades in the dark#yeah not entirely sure what inspired this#other than a passing thought that a crew being a polycule probably IS unusual in Duskwall#but it is here now and I'm pretty satisfied with it#for reference the Gray Cloaks are another gang in Six Towers#made up of former Bluecoats framed for a crime they didn't commit (rather than one of the ones they did)#they're trying to get evidence to prove their innocence but it's slow going#shouldn't have pissed off Alice Nessa!#anyway the Crows are one of the top gangs in Crow's Foot#Lyssa killing the leader Roric to assume control is canon; them being lovers is not#the Red Sashes and the Lampblacks are two other gangs in the district at war with each other with Baz and Mylera being the leaders#again Mylera being a spy who seduced Baz is my own invention#and the Billhooks is a violent gang whose leader Tarvul is in prison with a life sentence#he isn't mentioned as having a wife but he has a son so I figured he must have had one at SOME point#Oh and the Lost are a gang of people who are trying to balance former evil deeds they've committed with good ones#largely by beating up evil factory owners and such#and the factory is named for the Princess Cordelia furniture in Sims 4#that should be enough tags to explain things XD#queued
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Fandom: Johnny the Homicidal Maniac (But really Vargas lol) Rating: Teen and up Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
What, exactly, did Scriabin take from Edgar when they separated?
My first multichapter fic for Vargas! :D Yay!
(Pls read Ch. 1 first - Ch. 2 is also recommended, but as long as you're caught up on the first, you're good to go!)
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Side B
What the fuck.
"It's, it's possible that if, maybe whatever happened earlier, whatever caused all that blood and for us to be knocked unconscious-"
What the fuck.
"-and if I suffered a head injury, then maybe-"
No. That's enough.
Scriabin pushed away from the closet door he'd defensively pressed himself up against and put his hands on Edgar's shoulders, which quieted him. He looked at him expectantly, with eyes that Scriabin somehow only just now realized were casually guarded, curious, uncertain in a way that denoted inexperience. That was so messed up, that was completely wrong. Edgar should've been on guard, absolutely, but only because he knew exactly what Scriabin was capable of. He really didn't want to look at him right now if this was what he was going to be seeing instead.
He spun him quickly and pushed him out the door before he could protest. He got one last look at those wide, confused eyes before he slammed the door behind him, bracing it shut with both hands for good measure.
What. The fuck. His head came forward, making a dull thud as his forehead connected with the door. He doesn't remember me? His fingers curled on the door. What does he mean he doesn't remember me?! How could he not know me?! One hand pushed through his hair; his scalp tingled and that was so weird, he felt it and it was so weird- We literally just- He literally just-! As if pulling him screaming into life wasn't bad enough, now he had decided to play some sick prank!
This can't be true. It's just like him to try and make jokes at the worst possible time, he has no tact.
There was a timid knock on the other side of the door. Scriabin jumped as it resonated through his skull, his elbow, pressed to the door with his hand buried in his hair, set his jaw. Then silence.
If he was really trying to get back in, clear things up, say he was only kidding, he'd actually try.
Nothing.
Scriabin's blood was ice as he went over it again. The way he'd said his name. The vacant look in his eyes as he said it, like his mouth knew its shape but none of the meaning. No fear, no realization, nothing that really felt like Edgar, just sound, just noise.
Maybe he really had-
Oh god. His knees gave out, and his arms had no practice at holding him upright, not yet. His hand slid down the door, his other hand guarding his head as his hair fluffed against the grain.
How could he do this
This is all his fault
Stupid, idiotic
He can't do this to me
I can't believe him
I can't believe this
How dare he leave me alone like this
Thoughts spiralling, and all he could do was hold himself down, press his fingers into the back of his neck, force his chest to his knees and maybe he wouldn't immolate under it all. He was shaking, from tension or fear he couldn't tell, his mind too hazardous and loud to cut through it all. He was shaking, dizzy, and if he moved, letting go would surely kill him.
He can't do this to me.
He breathed. And breathed. And swallowed. Eyes closed, heart pounding, sure. Confusion and dismay, whatever. Pain. Fine. So be it.
This isn't like me. A hand untethered from his vice grip in his hair, and he stayed attached to the floor. It connected with the carpet below him and became a new lifeline. He pushed up and away into a limp sit, arms already burning slightly from holding himself up after all that. He shook his head mildly. This isn't who I'm going to be in life. His body, this fear response be damned, he was in control now.
Regroup. Let's- a mental pause, barely a quarter of a second long as he turned the word in his head. Let's pretend it's all true- what does that mean?
He flopped over, leaned upright with his back against the door, heels of his fists pushed down into the carpet to scootch closer. Moving was so awkward still, very unfitting.
He was acting normal. Well, Edgar's baseline for "normal" had changed considerably, so maybe put an asterisk on that. Not that he was ever normal to begin with, but normal-for-Edgar, -ish. That means he has to have some memory.
Scriabin held out a hand, arm slung over his knee, one finger held out. He had recognized his glasses. One. The apartment. Two. Which key to use. Three. He had said Todd's name. Four.
His stuff can be discounted, he's had all that for a while. Back down to one. The kid is a new fixture. Which means he remembers the last couple months at least. He shook his head and brought his hand up to comb through his hair. Well...it's fuzzy for me, so it probably is for him, too. Scriabin remembered everything in as much clarity as the last couple months allowed, there was no way Edgar would know more even if he had all his memories.
Speaking of which, Scriabin could remember everything. He flipped through; the last two months and bringing Todd in, Edgar's parting words to Johnny, his and Devi's conversation - he grit his teeth - and further back, everything along the way, all the way back. False dreams, shared childhoods, everything that was once Edgar's alone, he still remembered it. Nothing was out of place which made it all the more strange!
This is so fucking weird, if I remember everything, then why would he-
He stopped short. His purported purpose had been to replace Edgar. Take him over completely. If he bought into the conceit for a moment, just to play in the space... He was alive now. That was not as intended; it shouldn't even have been possible.
Did he...give me his memories? Like, all the way? Not just to borrow, to shape him, give him legitimacy - he was alive now. His own person. Separate, embodied, and whole. Was this the price of life?
That's stupid. But possible, he couldn't discount. If this - he brought his hands up and looked down at them, watched himself touch his own chest and felt it beneath his coat, shirt, the nerves firing as his slid his fingers up himself - if this was possible, then...
He continued for a moment, curious and reverant, all of him new and privately exciting, to exist and to touch, to feel, smell, see, all of it clear and fresh and penetrated deeply into his mind, as if a layer of film had been lifted from his senses. The moment passed as the memories, unbidden but important, cluttered in around him again.
There were still a lot of questions, and most of them couldn't be answered without Edgar, ugh. If getting anything out of him before had been like pulling teeth, he was very sobered to think about how it might be now. Depending on how much Edgar remembered, maybe he could start piecing things together.
Did he do it on purpose? Did he know this would happen? There's no way he would have been willing to if he had- But he couldn't ask him things like that. Even if he did remember, admitting something like that...
He was just spinning his wheels at this point. Better to gather what he could from the man himself. He looked up, preparing to stand.
Ah-
The room was still in something of a state.
Edgar would be annoying, or at least distracted by trying to pick up the clothes and uncarefully unpacked items strewn about the floor from Scriabin's very successful excavation of his old glasses. The clutter would have to go if he wanted his full attention.
He grumbled as he pushed off the door to pick up the first few things. First day of life and I'm already his maid. Figures. He's always needed me to clean up after him.
Silence.
Somehow it only just hit him. Thinking alone in the late hours, planning things behind Edgar's back, it was nothing new. But a barb unsunk into his mental flesh was left out in the wide emptiness, poised to stab whoever happened upon it next, and he was the only one here.
He felt very small all of a sudden, and he didn't like it at all.
His eyes blankly scanned the room, looking for nothing, until they settled on the toy at Edgar's bedside. His toy.
He dropped the items he'd bundled into his arms and made his way over. He picked up the small simulacrum, turned it over in his hands once, and stared at it.
He wouldn't know this. Not really. He brushed a thumb up and over the little mouth, the contours of its small face. Retroactively, I've never been this at all.
I'm no one to him.
Does this mean we can start over? The thought struck him like lightning, freezing his heart in his chest. He was fixed solid, staring down at the small figure in his hands.
Before he could even think, he'd already thrown it through the open closet door, landing noisily in the box he'd dug through with a clatter. He grabbed up the fallen clothes and items and stuffed them back in the box, burying the toy in mundane detritus, then closed the cardboard flaps and slammed the door of the closet for good measure.
His breath was laboured and he glared, like wishing it gone would make the closet itself disappear.
Answers. He needed answers, more than anything.
He ripped the door open, and there was Edgar who looked up, staring dumbly back at him and carrying the clothes he'd shed earlier over his arm. Something in his mind clicked over, and he didn't think about it.
"Alright," he caught his breath for half a second, "what do you remember?"
Edgar just kept on staring, mouth open, eyes unconfident behind weak glasses. Scriabin huffed irritably, I don't have time for this, and moved towards him, arm outstretched.
"Come on." Edgar gave a small startled sound behind him as he grabbed his collar and dragged him through the doorway. He threw him across the room, not bothering to watch his arc as he closed the door behind him. The bed was that way, he'd be fine.
When he turned back, Edgar had managed to catch himself, though already halfway on the bed. Scriabin stood with his back to the door, feet planted and he crossed his arms. No more speculating around impossibilities, tangible and present as they might be, it was time for a proper interrogation. It was at least preferable to-
Edgar made a face at him and scooted back, offering a seat next to him on the bed. Equal footing briefly flashed through his mind and while he wouldn't consider it ideal, nothing today was really going his way. He sighed, then made his way over and sat across from Edgar, who was eyeing him with a certain degree of caution. At least the feeling was mutual.
"Spill." He re-crossed his arms and leaned towards Edgar. "What do you know?"
Edgar hesitated, apparently thinking, his hands laced and fingers agitatedly if quietly rubbing the backs of his hands.
"I want to verify some things first."
Scriabin snorted dismissively. Where had Edgar's overly-trusting nature gone? A serial killer, well he's an honoured guest, but Scriabin? He didn't even distrust him for the right reasons.
He gestured with an open hand, Go ahead, then tucked his arm back in.
"Todd's last name?"
Pfsh. At least it was proof enough that anything Edgar knew, Scriabin did as well. As expected.
"Casil. His stupid bear's called Shmee in case you forgot that too." Edgar shook his head. No he hadn't? If only he could just check!
"Do you know our phone number?" Obviously he did, so he rattled it off quickly, Edgar nodding in turn. He flipped his hair in time with the last digit, careful to keep his eyes covered. It was a bit of a timid attempt, being the first in this body, which was a minor blessing he supposed.
Edgar mulled over what he'd given him for a moment, then a moment longer, then a moment even longer. His eyes searched absently, gazing down into his own hand, his other on his chin, lightly thumbing his goatee. He was focused on names and numbers, but those were child's play compared to everything, everything Scriabin still wanted to know. It was frustrating on a visceral level, watching him struggle with such simple innocuous nothings while the most important person in his life was sitting right in front of him.
He was supposed to be the most important.
It was frustrating.
"You really don't remember anything, do you?" He didn't hide the sneer as it shaped his voice - odd the way his body just did that now, did things without him actively thinking them into being. Even things like the little waver that made its way in that he pushed back down and under. He was frustrated, angry, tired - any emotionality could be attributed to those, nothing else.
Edgar didn't answer, just kept his gaze locked to his face. That was almost worse. Watching him fumble through things, it wasn't fun, but at least he wasn't trying to pry. He could see him try to look past his bangs, and the fact that he didn't know better...
Scriabin looked away for a moment, then thought better of it. Best defense is a good offense.
He reached for Edgar's face, for those damn scars, ever-present reminders. Edgar shied away, not wanting to be touched suddenly by someone he didn't know. As if Scriabin had ever cared about that.
Well, things were different now. Maybe he didn't really want to touch him anyway. Not yet.
"Do you remember these...?" Instead he framed his face with his hands less than an inch from his skin, and even there he could feel the heat coming off him. Edgar reached for his face, looking away from Scriabin as he touched the angry red marks. He winced minutely, then glanced back at Scriabin, searching him, his expression guarded again. Scriabin could hear his own pulse in his ears.
"...Johnny?"
"Fuck." Fuck! "Of course you'd remember him but not me." God damn it! It wasn't right, it wasn't fair, just because Johnny came first by a hair's breadth, just because he wasn't in Edgar's head, with Edgar's fucked up little obsession with the murderous stick figure- It limited what he could get away with too, if he remembered that far back. Absolutely nothing was going in his favour.
"I'm sorry..." He sounded genuinely remorseful, and it stuck in his throat. Disgusting. "So you know Johnny, too."
"Unfortunately." Scriabin tucked his chin to his chest, arms crossed again in close proximity. This sucks. Edgar just kept rambling, unaware as ever. His excuses held this time at least, one point in his favour, no points for bringing his annoying habits with him despite everything.
"I don't think I've seen him for a couple months now? Everything's awfully..." He gave a vague gesture and Scriabin uncurled slightly. He was giving him room to contribute. He shook his head.
"You haven't."
"Have you?"
He returned to his tight coil of sulking. Not like he was keen to meet up and chat, but he couldn't explain why he hadn't had the opportunity to either.
"I remember he called, too."
"Ugh," barely above breath. Enough about Johnny! Again, Edgar continued obliviously.
"Although I don't really recall what we talked about, not for a while..."
Of course not. I took over for half of those.
He perked a bit, and Edgar focused more on him, patiently setting his hands in his lap.
"You know."
He could play this to his advantage. Give Johnny some well-deserved karmic justice for fucking him over so many times. It was almost better that Edgar didn't know - Scriabin had been trying to get him away from Johnny all this time, and if he really had forgotten everything, not just the moments when Scriabin took over but every moment they had shared, then that meant it coincided almost perfectly with his first meeting with Johnny. Blank spot after blank spot after blank spot, all lined up immediately after getting his face slashed.
He could work with that.
"It's probably trauma." Edgar startled and his hand shot to his temple, lightly touching his hair.
"Like, head trauma?" Scriabing almost laughed. Yeah, probably that too. But that wouldn't help his case.
"No." He leaned in, taking a more intimate, secretive tone. "Think about it. When did things start getting fuzzy?" If he was right on this - which of course he was, but not being able to verify, not being able to see that he was right, it was disconcerting - but if he was, Edgar's memories of Scriabin should start with that first fateful encounter, give or take. A bit of reframing here, a touch of implication there... It probably wasn't even an outright lie; if Edgar's memory were perfect after experiencing everything Johnny had put them through, that would be some kind of twisted miracle.
His only real concern was their "childhood" - how much had Scriabin pulled with him? Would that throw off his story? But that was so far back, there was no way Scriabin or Johnny could be implicated in that. As long as Edgar didn't bring it up before he thought his way around it...
Edgar stayed quiet for a long while. His eyes raced behind closed eyelids, searching, scanning, retracing - Scriabin could almost see the moments where he hesitated, stopped and went back, then starting recollecting again. He wished he could see it for real, watch him unfold himself, touch those memories again, hold up his own in contrast. Even just hear Edgar's thoughts as they went by, feel the emotions he felt. But he couldn't, so he just stared as unblinkingly as this new body would allow, just watched as Edgar went over everything on his own.
He finally opened his eyes, staring back into Scriabin's though he was sure they were still hidden. He felt naked and awkward and Edgar still hadn't said anything. If he could just see like he was supposed to, or if Edgar would just tell him, he wouldn't have to ask. I have to do everything around here.
"It was after you met him, wasn't it?"
"You think it's...mental trauma?" An unspoken 'yes.' Relief flooded him, and he pushed ahead.
"Edgar. He stabbed you." Edgar gripped his shoulder, his eyes closing again and he looked to be in pain. That was a very effective reminder at least. "Do you even know why?" He shook his head and spoke throught half-grit teeth.
"I must have made him mad, but I don't remember-" Of course not, I did that.
"Your mind is trying to protect you." Not. But one of us has to with your inexhaustable deathwish. Scriabin reached out to touch him properly, but Edgar pulled away. He didn't follow, still not yet. Play up the pity. "He messed you up so bad," with a curl in his tone, an I told you so that barely made it to words even privately; how long had he been holding that in? "Surely you must've felt like you wanted, you needed to get away from him, that he wasn't good for you, that you-" He'd told him so many times, some it must have stuck, some of it had to have-
"Then-!" Edgar's eyes shot open, wide and desperate with an edge of disbelief. A strangled gasp escaped him, half-choking him as he tried to speak. "Then why can't I remember you?!"
He almost began rolling off the cuff, but really, he still didn't know for sure. And it definitely wasn't like he could tell the truth even if he wanted to; who, who hadn't lived it, would believe him? Edgar certainly wouldn't, not with his lack of imagination. He had to dress this up, weave a narrative that was plausible, had the perfect mix of truth and falsehood to stand up to scrutiny.
Huh. Ironic.
"I..." No. Some of this was Edgar's fault too. "We...argued."
"Argued?"
"I... Mng." He wanted to aim for some kind of levity, but his throat had tightened on him. He just wanted to tell this stupid inside joke and not have it affect him, not have it mean anything, and here he was getting emotional? He'd say it and fucking mean it. "It's not like I'm in your head, so-" spat out in a rush, there, he'd said it. Haha, isn't that so funny. He swallowed harshly, pushing down everything he felt into his stomach acid. He was in control. He was fine. This didn't shake him. "I can't know for sure," another humourless laugh inside, "but I was against your relationship with Johnny. Maybe you shut me out so you could keep seeing him with no pushback."
It certainly wasn't outside the realm of possibilities of what Edgar would do to avoid taking Scriabin's extremely basic advice about fraternizing with serial killers. How many times had he been ignored up to this point, only to culminate in the ultimate 'I don't know what you're talking about.' Pfeh. I bet he wishes he'd thought of this sooner. It did nothing for his painfully stuttered pulse.
"You know, I've been trying to convince you to stop going back to him for a while, but, well..." He waved his hand at Edgar's hand still death gripped into his shoulder, and Edgar averted his eyes guiltily. At least he showed some remorse. Better than his nigh constant apologia.
He stayed quiet a moment longer, and just before Scriabin made to fill the silence again, Edgar struck him with an intense look.
"What are you to me?" Ugh. Of course. There was not a single good answer for that. Even if he told him everything- no, especially if he told him everything, there was no way Edgar would believe him. But coming up with a convincing lie on the spot, when they were so clearly something to each other - even he needed time to come up with something workable. How could he have ever prepared for a situation like this? It was never meant to happen, so many things were never meant to happen!
He continued at Scriabin's silence. "You know Nny," Ugh! Even his awful nickname. "And Todd. And...me." He couldn't refute it, so he nodded tightly. "Do you live here?"
Technically he had, and technically he hadn't. Still, going forward, it would be easier to let Edgar assume that he did. It wasn't like he had anywhere else to go at the moment anyway.
"Yes."
"Are we..." He searched him, looked him over as much as he could and he wasn't subtle about it. If only Scriabin had his proper glasses, he'd let him look as much he wanted, behold his spectacle! As it was, he just felt self-conscious and it was very unbefitting. "...family?"
The baggage on that. He did not feel like opening that particular can of worms in either of their current states. He turned his head and flipped through any number of halfway decent ways to phrase it until he hit on something Edgar would remember. Better not to contradict for now.
"You told Johnny you have no family when you met."
"That's true..." Edgar blinked, processing. "Wait, did I tell you that?" Scriabin startled. Even after he'd accounted for his memory! Of course he had to pick his story apart now, he never knew when to leave well enough alone.
"When you-" No, he had to be involved. "When we bandaged your face."
Edgar mulled on that for a few seconds, taking on a thoughtful pose. "I only remember being alone."
"You don't remember me at all. What do you want from me?" He huffed.
"No, sorry, you're right."
"Thank you." He was right!
Where had Edgar expected him to be? There was something weird about how he'd said it. He filed the thought away for later.
"So, if you've been living here, where..." Edgar looked around the room, then back to Scriabin. "Where have you been sleeping? Todd's already on the couch..."
Scriabin couldn't help as a smile sprung to his face. If he was going to present him with such a perfect opportunity, well, he'd better take it. He even had the decency to look nervous in response! This was too good.
"Would you believe me if I said right here, in bed?" He again tucked his chin, playfully this time, his hair falling further in his eyes. Even through the dark tangles he could make out Edgar's face immediately bristling with heat.
Ooh. That's such a fetching shade on you, my dear.
"But-! I, I haven't been sleeping on the floor!" He was visibly sweating!
"Correct." His smile grew. This was too easy, and he needed an easy win right about now.
"W-" He leaned forward on his legs, though refused to get any closer. When he spoke it was a harsh whisper. "Why...?"
Scriabin shrugged easily, not bothering to reign in his smile in the least. "I mean, where else, right?" He leaned in since Edgar refused to, and oh. He was blushing all the way up to his scalp. Hilarious. "You certainly didn't seem to mind." He couldn't hold back the slightly musical tone or his eyebrows inclination to move on their own. His body knew what he was getting at, and he could see it only increased Edgar's fluster. All the better.
"Well I do now!" Edgar darted up and away, stumbling in his hasty retreat. "If you'll excuse me!" though he was already practically in the hallway by the time he said it. What a display, and Scriabin's laugh was loud and natural.
Finally, something positive. He'd managed to fumble his way through, not his best work in lying or manipulation, but he'd set some important groundwork. He'd gotten some answers, and he could start to shape some more believable stories around them.
The biggest hurdles were Johnny and Devi. As long as Edgar didn't meet with them too soon - or well, at all would be preferable, but he doubted he could just keep him locked up, as much as the idea appealed to him. There were so many things that were possible now, things that he had the ability to do, given the right circumstances... All of that in due time. For now he had a yarn to spin.
He listened as Edgar fumbled in the hall, the sheer sound of cloth being pulled and folded over an arm barely perceptable. Was he really going to try to sleep on what little was left over? Maybe he'd give up once he realized the pickings were thin and beg Scriabin to let him sleep with him. Hah.
While he was out, Scriabin made his way over to the pajamas drawer. They were all old and soft, even just to his hand. They'd do for now, until he could get his own. It wasn't like he hadn't worn all this before anyway.
By the time he'd finished dressing, his clothes discarded on the opposite side of the bed to where Edgar had set up his little nest, Edgar had finally gotten himself a set of pajamas. He wondered for a moment if he'd dress with Scriabin in the room again, though maybe his intense stare drove him off. Who could say. He patted the bed with a wide grin when he returned and was dutifully ignored. He settled down to the side, and Scriabin laid on his arms to look down at him.
"Ugh, lame."
"I don't-"
"Yeah, whatever." He'd heard it all before. At least he could literally look down on him like this. He folded his hands and leaned just a bit further, looking him over. A desire he hadn't realized he had surfaced in the dark and quiet. "Give me your hand."
"Sorry?" Scriabin held out his hand expectantly.
"I used to hear your heart beat every day." Edgar looked at him incredulously, but Scriabin was unperturbed. "Let me hear it again."
He hesitated but eventually slowly offered his arm. "...Okay."
He pulled his arm up and placed his thumb against his wrist. He felt a strange mismatch - where he'd been expecting one heartbeat, there were two. He covered his surprise, near shock at the realization that of course he had his own body now, by pulling harder on Edgar's arm, directing him up to his ear.
"Wh-"
"Shh." Quietly. He had wanted this, wanted this body, this separation, this freedom for so long, and now... He spoke quietly, his voice betraying nothing. "I'm listening."
Edgar's pulse was erratic, but he hardly paid attention to it. His own fingers on Edgar's skin, warm and pliant, and Edgar's fingers twitching in his hair, he could feel it, he was trying not to touch him- This hesitation was killing him, every jerky movement away not from fear of what Scriabin could do to him, just uncertainty, like he was still a stranger- He pressed him harder to his head, and he could feel goosebumps under his fingers. He wanted to just hold him there until all the memories they'd shared poured back through him, into his blood, into his breath.
Where are you?
But he replied in that same uncertain, guarded tone that indicated he didn't know, not really.
"C...can I have my arm back now?"
He pushed him away. "Fine." Edgar curled his hand protectively against his chest, and he noticed he rubbed it slightly, he probably hadn't even realized.
He mumbled out a harried "Good night," and it was almost enough to make Scriabin smile. Almost. He could still affect him but this wasn't enough, it wasn't right.
He laid his head on the pillow, not bothering to pull his arm up over the side of the bed. If he twitched in the night and touched Edgar, well, that could mean anything. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he did it on purpose. Plausible deniability was one of his greatest assets.
As it was, he was just tired. Maybe he didn't pull it back because he hated the thought of sleeping alone, pushed out and forgotten, and hated it more that he was even thinking something like that. How pathetic. He didn't need anyone, especially not Edgar.
But he was tired. Not in his right mind.
Does this mean we can start over...?
The thought echoed and died, and he slept.
#💟#Fanfiction#Blank Slate AU#Edgar#Scriabin#Todd#Shmee#He's technically in there but once again no speaking lines :P Yet anyway lol#It's fanfic time again! I fell into yet another writing fugue and finished Chapters 1 and 2 in like four days lol#If you'll notice tho ♪ Neither of those chapters are featured under the cut :3c Pls do read Ch. 1 at least to get caught up before diving in#This one took a bit longer but that'd be because it's Almost as big as both previous chapters combined lol#I'll update it to the chapter list in a few days! Y'all get a preview here :D It'll be the same there with slightly different formatting#Decided to try something new since tumblr doesn't normally allow underlines but it's very important to Scriabin's syntax#I promise they're all just links to the first chapter lol - you're welcome to check but I promise I didn't put a sneaky link anywhere lol#My one gripe is that it doesn't look as good on-blog :/ Fine on the dash! But I'm not willing to sacrifice the dark colouration on the links#Italics were chosen as the only light feature for a reason ♪#I mean at least it's not Bolded lol I'll take it#These were a lot of fun to write so far ahhh <3 I've been wanting to dig a little deeper for a long while now!#I mentioned this idea offhandedly in the tags of Incoming Outgoing but ahhh it's very rewarding to put to words :D#Fun Fun Fun
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GreedxLing Week Day 3: Possession
Read on AO3
Greed didn’t know how much time had passed since his so-called family had banished him from the mortal plane, but however long it had been he hoped they’d been counting their fucking days. He was coming after every last one of them once he got back, starting with that piece of shit Wrath.
And he would get back. Eventually. Somehow.
The problem was the fuckers hadn’t even sent Greed to a good dimension. It was barely a dimension at all; just a little pocket of a backwater nowhere, an empty void that was either deafeningly loud or dead silent. Greed couldn’t tell which it was anymore. He guessed it didn’t really matter.
There were no cracks in the walls to slip through to another level of reality. There weren’t even any walls. There were no hidden doorways, no twisting paths that may lead somewhere new if walked just right, none of the normal little tricks a demon could use to eventually find their way back to the human world
(There was no stuff for Greed to have, or want, or reach for. There were no people to follow his instructions or agree to his brilliant plans. There was nothing, and all that nothing was driving him nuts.)
But this place couldn’t hold him forever. Greed was not a demon to be trifled with, and he would get out of here eventually. If he didn’t know quite how–didn’t even know what step one of his escape plan should be–no one needed to know. There was no one around to know, anyway, so that worked out.
He could just focus on plotting his inevitable bloody revenge, and keep an eye out for the opportunity to escape, in whatever form it might take.
Turns out, the opportunity came in the form of a summoning spell.
Whatever human was casting it must have been powerful and known what they were doing to reach him all the way in his little corner of nowhere. Even Greed, who was a powerful demon–one of the deadly sins–would be hard pressed to resist the pull of this spell.
Not that he was trying to resist. Normally being conjured into some witch or cultist’s dingy basement would be beneath him, but right now he’d do just about anything to get out of the time out corner from hell (an insult to hell frankly) and back to a real world.
So fine, he’d pop in all spooky like for the human, do whatever petty little task they wanted his help with–because he could already tell breaking whatever bindings were built into this magic would be more trouble than it was worth–and then he’d finally be free to get on with his life.
Greed followed the tug of magic as his cell unraveled around him, destabilized by the disturbance, and found a clear and shining path back up into the mortal plane, and then down into a mortal body.
Of course, a magic user this powerful would know better to let Greed into their home in his true form. Being bound to a human body during the duration of whatever deal this was wasn’t unexpected, but it was definitely going to be a pain. Especially if whoever the poor hapless schmuck was who got tricked or forced into playing host spent the whole time complaining in Greed’s head.
It was less comfortable than Greed had imagined being compressed down into human shape, and it took a few seconds for him to adjust to seeing in only three dimensions and the room to come into focus.
Greed had expected his first sight of anything in who knows how long to be a dark, dirty dungeon with whatever magic user had called him here grinning smugly and winding up to gloat.
Instead he found a clean, well-lit work room with absolutely no one in it.
That couldn’t be right. Summoning spells didn’t just activate on their own.
But Greed looked around again, searching the corners and even crouching a little to peek under the desk across the room, and there was definitely no one here.
What the hell?
“Where’s the fucking wizard?” Greed asked into the empty room. It was good to hear something again, even if human ears weren’t the greatest.
Um, that would be me.
Greed whipped around, but there was still no one in the room. And, unless he was mistaken, the voice was coming from–
Although I prefer the term mage, the voice added. Wizards are too obsessed with research and theory, not really my speed.
“Are you in my head?” Greed asked.
Well, technically you’re in my head, the voice said. But I guess we could think of it the other way, if you prefer. After all, it’s rude to argue with a guest.
Greed looked down at the summoning circle around his feet. Normally, a magic user would draw two separate circles, one to stand in and channel their magic, and another for the demon to be brought into the world inside of. The sacrificial human vessel would be placed in the second circle.
Instead, for some reason, this mage had arranged the circles concentrically, and was standing in the middle of both.
And now Greed was standing in the mage’s body.
“Why–” Greed couldn’t even finish the question. He’d never heard of someone fucking up this badly.
Of course, you must be wondering why I’ve brought you here. The mage misinterpreted Greed’s confusion about his idiocy. My name is Ling, and I need you to help me kill my father and take his place as head of our coven.
“Oh, so it’s a power grab.”
This made a little more sense. Normally coven mages didn’t go so far as actually invoking a deadly sin for their power struggles, but it was frequently a cut throat competition. Maybe this Ling guy just didn’t want to risk someone else moving in on the throne in the time it would take him to find another body to put Greed in.
Still pretty stupid.
“Yeah, I could help with that. I’m very down with patricide these days.” There was one potential problem. “Although, I don’t like your chances of hanging on to power if you weren’t even able to convince someone to send an annoying relative they want to get rid of to play demon host. Must not have many people backing your play if you had to do it yourself.”
I didn’t have to do it myself, Ling snapped. I chose to become the host for your power while you assisted me with this task.
Greed was starting to pick up more details from Ling than just the disembodied voice, emotions bubbling up from somewhere inside Greed’s new head. Right now he was mostly getting outrage.
This isn’t just a power grab. It is vital that I take over the coven. My father has become obsessed with gaining immortality. In his single minded focus, he’s been neglecting his other duties. And yet he rules with such an iron fist, there are still few who would dare to oppose him. Even I was going to let it slide until he eventually failed and died.
But then I found out he’d been using members of our own coven as subjects in his experiments.
Ling’s righteous anger at that burned in his voice and in Greed’s head. Greed could admit that that was pretty fucked up. He hated people who didn’t take care of their things.
He’s sacrificing our people for his obsession! Only low ranking members, or those who are normally out doing remote research on their own. People who it would be believed to have died in a accident or succumbed to an illness, or maybe just ran away and abandoned the coven.
I knew I needed more power than I can muster on my own to stop him–that I would need your power–but if I forced someone else to take on that burden I’d be no better than my father. A leader who sacrifices his people is no leader at all!
Somehow while being nothing but a voice in Greed’s head, Ling gave the impression standing tall and looking Greed square in the eyes as he continued.
I need your power to protect my people, and I will hold that power in my own body. I won’t put anyone else at risk for my plan. I accept any risk that puts me in.
Greed couldn’t help but burst out laughing at that.
This Ling guy was amazing
You think I’m joking? Ling bristled.
“No,” Greed managed to force out past his laughter. “No, I know you’re serious. That’s what makes this so perfect! You really are the ideal host for me. I’ve never met someone so greedy.”
How is that greedy? I just said I was trying to save everyone else!
“Eh, you humans think of everything in such a black and white kinda way. Greed isn’t all bad, you know. And I don’t know what else you’d call trying to get what you want without giving up anything in the process. You’re taking care of what’s yours, and that’s something I can understand.”
I guess that’s one way of looking at it.
Ling didn’t sound convinced. Not surprising, humans did tend to think of Greed’s whole deal as nothing but grabbing for money and power.
Ling was a smart guy though. He’d come around.
“You’re alright, kid. I think we’re gonna get along just fine,” Greed said. “Tell you what: I’ll help you take out your shitty dad, and in return you and any of your coven members who volunteer of their own free will can help me get rid of my shitty family. I’m actually starting with a bastard who used to call himself my brother, but dear old dad is very much on the hit list.”
You want to kill your family? Like, other demons?
Ling’s creeping apprehension was a little off putting, but Greed had no doubt they could handle those assholes together.
He was already thinking of keeping this guy even after their deal came to a close. They would make a good team; he could just tell.
“Don’t got any human relatives. They majorly screwed me over, they killed my henchman, and now they’re going to get what’s coming to them.”
Greed tested whether he could access his signature power while possessing a human, and the ultimate shield spread easily over his hands and up his arms. He may need a bit longer to get used to this body, but he could definitely make it work.
“They’re also planning to–” Greed had an unpleasant realization. “Hey, what’s the date?”
March 5th?
“Of what year?”
It’s 2025.
Aw fuck. Greed had been locked away longer than he’d thought.
“Okay, slight change of plans. Unless you think you can kill your dad today, we need to do my thing first if we want to stop the world from ending, like, next week.”
What?!
Ling’s alarm spiked, and together with Greed’s own misgivings it was a struggle not to give in to a panic attack.
They really didn’t have time for that.
“Yeah, it’s–eclipse, mass soul sacrifice, killing God. It’s a whole thing. So unless you want to be the shortest reigning coven head in history, we should probably put a stop to that sooner rather than later.”
Alright, Ling said. He was rolling with the news of an impending apocalypse surprisingly well. He’d pushed the fear aside already, and let determination grow in its place. We need someone to come break the binding circle from the outside before we can leave. Get my phone out of my pocket.
A smart precaution. Greed wasn’t sure how a phone was supposed to fit in a pocket, though, and the thing he pulled out was more of a…weird rectangle.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
Here, let me just…
Ling nudged his way towards the front of the head, and Greed became perhaps the first demon in history to let his host reclaim control of the body without a fight.
Temporarily.
“I’m just going to text my friend Lan Fan,” Ling said, doing something that made the rectangle light up and tapping his fingers on little letter tiles on its surface. “She’s going to be pissed, though. She insisted that she should be the one to get possessed and I… maybe told her she was right, and that we’d do the ritual tomorrow, and that she should get some rest tonight, and then did it while she was sleeping so she couldn't stop me. Probably going to have to convince her not to exorcize you on sight.”
If she even could exorcize me, Greed scoffed.
Lying was a nasty habit. He’d have to work on making Ling stop it if they were going to be working together for as long as Greed hoped.
“Oh, she could exorcize you,” Ling said, without a shadow of doubt. He finished whatever he was doing with the phone and stuffed it back in his pocket.
“We’re still taking care of my father after we deal with yours, by the way. Saving the world is great, but it’s not going to get you out of doing what I called you here for.”
Didn't think it would, Greed said.
Really, he didn’t mind sticking around to help Ling out once he’d killed every last traitorous member of his own family.
He’d probably end up staying even after they got Ling what he wanted.
Ling was good company, a man after Greed’s own heart, and Greed figured they’d only get along better as they got to know each other. Who knew, if he played his cards right Greed might end up ruling over what must be a large and powerful coven with the guy, and that sounded like just the thing to satisfy the endless wanting in Greed’s core.
This was shaping up to be better than even Greed’s wildest revenge fantasies during the long years trapped in that horrible pocket dimension, and Greed owed all to Ling.
#greedxlingweek2024#greed fma#ling yao#im not as happy with this one#its fine i just think the last two were beter#i might write another demon au for them sometime#realized this is the first one of these i didn't give lan fan a prominent part in#and i still had to mention her#it might be greedling week but in this house its always loving lan fan hours#fma
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Doodles of my Dreamtale AU (first mentioned here but I have lots more updated art posted) because it has a hold on me again and I just scrapped practically the entire story lol.
Also here's a possible adult Papyrus design. If Sans gets extra appendages and a fucked up eye, so does Papyrus. I don't make the rules lmao.
This au's story got so big and so messy and I really haven't been able to find a way to put it all together in a way I'm satisfied with, so the story is going to be much closer to the og undertale story with a lot of stuff reworked in the setting and with certain characters' stories and whatnot.
#Now that I'm looking at Sans' design again those shoes look goofy as hell.#It's fitting with his character but I'm most likely going to change that now that I've noticed it.#It is a shame that the other story is such a mess that I have no idea how to clean up. I had some good stuff in there#One idea I was particularly proud of was Papyrus using an army of whoopie cushions to get Sans to remember his humor after he's “corrupted”#That was actually the idea that led to the “Gaster = Fart Master” discovery. I even have a timestamp of the realization bc I stopped typing#Then I didn't come back to that doc for like a week LMAO#Another involved Papyrus carrying the Annoying Dog with him into battle. I was laughing so hard writing the details of that one down#Maybe I'll make the previous story a secondary au or smth if I can figure out how to make it all fit the way I want it to#idk what I'll do with it but maybe I'll figure smth out#To give you a hint of how big it got. that story has multiple google docs. One of them is 20 pages single spaced#That's not even mentioning the notes app and the fact that I didn't even write all of it down.#I wish I was joking. I tismed so hard. Trust me. It was too much lmao#doodles#dreamtale au#dreamtale#nightmare sans#papyrus#undertale#utdr art#undertale au#toriel#frisk#chara#asriel#flowey#my au#my art#mine
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Leo let raph keep the homeless baby
If you can't read the text, they are in Alts.
As much as Leo would love to keep Misa around, which is more than you'd probably think, she hates the thought of something bad happening or Misa getting hurt more if they don't return her to her own Universe.
While she's there, they'll be looking after her of course, but she will have to go "home" eventually. (Even if it pains them to leave a child alone) So Leo will not be allowing Raph to keep the baby.
(@littlemissartemisia I usually don't @ people, but considering this is an ask about your AU it seems reasonable to mention you! Sorry if you don't like it, just tell me if so!)
#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt 2012#uncle shredder#tmnt au#au#tmnt oc#tmnt artemisia#I honestly didn't expect another ask about Miss in my inbox but I'm not exactly against it#Interacting with other people's Au's is super cool snd I'd live to do it more!#Anyway I should prob mention Raph for a sec#All that really happened is Misa convinced Raph to cary her around for a bit#A surprisingly easy task#She may even take her to Dreamscape is he feels nice enough#anon ask#Never expected that either#asks#I'm gonna crash now bye#tmnt original character
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Batfam Mythical AU Part 1
Bruce - Dragon
He has both a human form and a dragon form. Dragon form is pretty fricken huge. Mostly dark green and black with some dark purple and grey accent colors. He's about as big as the Wayne manor.
I have quite a bit more for this that's both general info and more specific to Bruce and the Batfam.
Don't enter someone else's territory without express permission. Dragons are territorial. If they perceive you as having your own territory or trying to claim theirs, you aren't welcome in their territory. Obviously you can enter their territory if they or a member of their family invite you. (While Bruce takes this seriously, his kids - except for Damian - and their friends do not. It drives him up the wall, because it feels like their friends are trying to encroach on his territory whenever they appear without at least a warning. Jason and Dick are still part of the family so even though they have their own territory they are allowed in Bruce's.)
Shiny gifts mean they want something. Food means they probably want to be friends or to form an alliance. If it's something to add to your personal hoard and aren't already part of your family, then they are trying to court you. (Side note: if the dragon hoards something that can't be gotten or is common to gift as something else like food or gold, courting gifts are commonly given in even numbers. Some dragons will also accept most other species courting gifts as long as the intention is clear.) Someone is supposed to wait with the gift just outside of the dragon's territory to explain/negotiate what they want in return. There's no need for the dragon to give a return gift unless it's a courting gift. In the event that a live person/mythical being is given as a gift, the 'gift' is the one that gets to make the request. Familial gifts are often exchanged, given, and received with no ulterior motive or reason.
Most dragons have a personal hoard and a familial hoard. The familial hoard normally has monetary value and is shared with the family. Personal hoards are personal and normally small enough to fit inside a large wardrobe. (I headcanon Bruce hoarding gifts from family members because of the trauma from his parents death and because there was one show where he rejected a gift from them right before they died.)
Dragons are super strong. Even in human form, they're considered strong. (Not as strong as Superman or Captain Marvel, but strong enough to break a tree with a punch.)
Can take hits better than humans can. Even in human form, a dragon's skin is tougher than any human's.
Even in human form, dragons heal fast. You just shot them in human form? They'll be fine tomorrow.
Can use magic. Some have innate magic that allows them to fly. Some have innate magic that allows them to shapeshift. (Because of his aversion to how unpredictable it can be, Bruce only uses his innate magic. Although, I think his wings manifesting as his cape when he's Batman is a cool idea.)
Most dragons can fly. Some can fly in human form. Wings and lack-there-of is not an indication of their ability to fly. (Bruce can't fly in human form, as his innate flight magic is tied to his dragon form. He can glide though.)
Dragons have deafening roars when mad.
Some dragons have a breath attack. Most common breath attacks are fire, water, and air. Some have the ability to control 1 specific thing. Most common of these things are rocks, water, lava, and clouds. Others don't have an extra ability and are stuck with using their claws, teeth, tails, and roars. (Bruce is one of the ones that don't have an extra ability, but if he did I think it would be controlling clouds because then he could make things foggy or clear the sky or block the sun/moon/stars.)
Wings aren't for flying. That's what their flight magic is for. Their wings are there to help shield their young from harm and from the cold. And for the aesthetic.
Fighting is a form of playing for younger dragons, similar to how most animals play-fight when they're young. The biggest reason dragons are seen as solitary is because pre/teen dragons play-fighting with their younger siblings or their parents tend to get pissy and fly off in a huff.
Kidnapping other species' kids - especially when those kids are experiencing unfortunate circumstances (especially when their parents are the cause) - is not uncommon but isn't exactly common either. Most dragons that do this have a "type" that they take in. (For example; Bruce's "type" is headstrong, violent kids with blue eyes and black hair that want to do good. Some don't have a type at all.) Some (like Bruce) will deviate from their "type" if given a reason. They won't kidnap a child that has their own territory though. (this is the reason Billy isn't one of Bruce's kids)
Feel free to add to this or ask questions!
#i think 'beware the batman' is the show i mentioned#Mythical Batfam AU#dragon!batman#there will like 7 more of these that i will post eventually#I might answer questions in the comments#or i'll answer in another post#batman#batfam#batfam au#bruce wayne#yes dick was a violent kid#bruce just didn't know that when he adopted him
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i've always known - satoru gojo
[ satoru gojo - f!reader ]
✧ summary: you'd known each other since childhood, growing as close as two people could grow. there was not anything you didn't do together. but life doesn't always cooperate, creating hurdles even for the most tightknit relations ✧ cw: [MDNI] childhood best friends, afab!reader, college au, fluff!!, ofc some angst sprinkled in here, mentions of underage drinking, swearing, arguing, slightly ooc satoru maybe you be the judge, jealousy, poorly written eventual smut (be patient), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, pet names, no use or y/n ✧ word count: 17.0k (yikes sorry)
⋆⭒˚。⋆
You were six years old when you met him for the first time.
“Be nice and say hi, sweetie,” your mom spoke softly, only making you squeeze her hand harder and hide behind her.
“Hi,” you said more quiet than a whisper, if that was even possible, looking at the two strangers that had made themselves known.
But it wasn’t the unknown woman that had you so nervous, she seemed kind enough. It was the little boy next to her, a mop of crystal white hair hanging above his piercing blue eyes that were staring directly at you. With his hands stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie, he flashed you a toothless grin.
“Hello, I’m Satoru,” his tone chipper, almost like the line was rehearsed. You only stared at him with eyes big as globes before turning towards your mom again.
“Mooom,” you nagged, pulling at her sleeve. “Can we go back inside?”
“In a minute,” she reassured you before turning towards the strangers. “I’m sorry, the moving has been a lot for her,” she chuckled nervously, but the unknown lady only smiled at her.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she laughed kindly before turning to you. “I’m sure we’ll get to know each other with time.” She shot you a friendly wink, but you only shrunk further being your mom’s leg. Instinctively, she began to rub comforting circles on your back.
“We have no doubt,” she answered for you.
Still feeling Satoru’s eyes on you, you turned to him again. Instantly your eyebrows narrowed in annoyance, not understanding why he was still staring at you, like you were some kind of weirdo.
“I really came by to invite your family over for dinner tomorrow. Wish you welcome to the neighbourhood.” Your mother instantly beamed at the request.
“That’s so nice. We’d love too, right honey?” Shifting the focus to you again. You only shrugged, not daring to look away from the strange boy.
“Great. Just drop by anytime after five and we’ll be home.” The genuine smile only amplified the woman’s already gorgeous face.
Your mom broke the intense staring competition you had with Satoru with a slight shake of the hand. “Why don’t you tell them your name?”
Looking between the two strangers standing on your porch, you shyly mumbled your name, earning you another smile from the boy. What was his deal?
⋆⭒˚。⋆
“Why don’t you show her your room, Satoru?” The man you assumed to be his dad had said nearly the second your family had stepped into their home.
You’d given your parents a pleading look, begging them to come to your rescue seeing as you were already attending the dinner against your will. With stern glares, you knew you had no choice but to follow Satoru.
With a safe distance behind him, you reluctantly followed him up the stairs, which lead to a door at the end of the long hallway. He was clearly a well mannered kid, surprising you as he actually held the door open for you to enter first.
Small steps lead you into his bedroom and your eyes instantly grew big in awe at the sight of the huge bedroom. It was probably twice the size of yours, filled with all the toys you could imagine. Strengthening your envy was the queen sized bed in the corner of his room, because you had always been told that big beds like that were for grown ups only.
But what captured your full attention was the bookshelves in the opposite side of the room filled with manga from the floor to the ceiling. Shuffling over to them, you let your eyes travel over the familiar titles, spotting all your favourite stories.
“Are all of these yours?” You asked, turning to see him already looking at you with his hands in his pockets. He simply nodded, a proud smile plastered on his face to reveal deep dimples on each side of his face.
Unfair, you thought to yourself. What you would give to have stacked shelves like that, so you’d be able to pick up a new manga the second you’d finished another one.
“How old are you?” The random question made you turn to look at him again, his pride shifted into curiosity with his head tilted.
“Six.” He instantly scrunched his nose, seriously unhappy with your answer.
“Hmm,” he scoffed, looking down at his feet. His reaction couldn’t help but offend you, crossing your arms over your chest and sticking your bottom lip out in a dramatic pout. “‘S not fair,” he mumbled as he kicked his feet.
“What isn’t fair?” You whined, drawing his eyes back to you.
“Well, I’m eight,” he complained, but that alone didn’t explain his tone. “So why are you taller than me?” Blinking at him in surprise, a small giggle began to take over your grumpiness. “It’s not funny!”
If your parents had seen you giggle in response to someone clearly upset, you would have earned yourself a strict scowl and a lesson when you got home. Lucky for you, they were downstairs mingling with their new neighbours, so the childish giggle came bursting out of you, causing your to slap both your hands over your mouth to contain yourself.
He knew you were teasing him, but he found himself enjoying the sound of your laugh a little too much to stay upset, his shoulders sinking and eyebrows raising in delight. A subtle blush dusted over his cheeks when he began to think he might just be a little smitten by you already.
Nonetheless, it was the start of your friendship. Throughout the dinner, the two of you held a never ending conversation, which surprised your parents considering how hostile you’d been to even the idea of getting to know the young boy next door.
Both of you put up a fight when it was time for you to leave once the clock had passed nine on a school night. You eventually had to settle for seeing each other again tomorrow. Still so excited to have a new friend, you couldn’t help but tell your parents everything you and Satoru had talked about.
“And he even said I could borrow his mangas if I wanted to!”
“That’s great, honey, but you really have to go to bed now!” Your mom chuckled as she followed you into the bedroom and tucked you in. “Why don’t you tell me the rest tomorrow, hm?” You nodded eagerly, before she placed a sweet kiss on your cheek and wishing you good night before leaving your bedroom with the door slightly ajar.
You wanted to drift into sleep, but you couldn’t find it in your body to rest. So like so many other nights, you walked over to your shelves to find something to read. You didn’t manage to get that far, when something outside your window caught your eye. Curiously making your way over, you climbed up on the stool, only to be staring right at Satoru standing in his own window directly across from yours.
It didn’t take long for him to spot you, instantly waving at you with his entire arm. With the same toothless grin you’d been greeted with the previous day, you waved back at him immediately before climbing back into bed more than satisfied.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
You were ten years old the first time he got grounded because of you.
Over the years, you’d just grown closer and closer for each time you hung out, which was pretty much every day. It was just a given that you would see each other at one point or another throughout the day. And if, for some odd reason, you hadn’t gotten the chance to meet up, you would catch up in the evening from your windows.
There was not a doubt that you two had become best friends. His house felt like a second home, nearly spending more time there than your own home.
Sadly, Satoru’s classmates didn’t think it was cool for him to hang out with someone who was ten. Unlike them, you were a child… and a girl, which meant you brought cooties
“Waiting for your boyfriend,” a taunting voice cooed as it gradually came closer, capturing your attention to meet three boys you recognised from Satoru’s class.
“Not my boyfriend,” you mumbled to yourself, not wanting to give them the attention they so desperately wanted. Turning away from them, you tried to ignore their rapid approach. But before you knew it, they had you surrounded.
“You know, he doesn’t really like hanging out with you.” Glaring daggers at the boy standing right in front of you, you chewed the inside of your cheek in an attempt not to let him get to you. “He’s got better things to do than hang out with stupid girls.”
You tried to cling onto the advice your mother had told you time and time again; if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. But in this moment, that seemed like the worst possible advice. Why should you just stand there and take it when they were throwing all these mean words at you?
“You’re just upset you can’t get anyone to talk to you!” Your voice was venomous, but it didn’t seem to have any affect on him as they only snickered in response.
“Think you’re funny?”
“Just leave me alone!” You fired back, challenging his patronising look at you. For a few seconds, he held your stare before he launched forward and yanked your manga right out of your tiny hands. “Hey! Give it back!” Despite being as tall as the dumb boy, he managed to keep it just out of your reach, no matter how far you tried to stretch for it.
“I’m just having a look,” he laughed as he began to recklessly flip through the pages. From each side of you, you could hear both of his friends laugh to egg him on.
Panting and whining, you tried to reach for your book, but froze in place when you heard the sound of paper ripping. Staring at the manga in his hands, you saw how he had started to tear crumbled pages from the spine. With fake sincerity, he squeaked a small “ops” and continued to laugh. Unable to peer your eyes away from your favourite manga in pieces, the tears began to well up in the corner of your eyes. “Awe, are you crying?”
The tears didn’t have time to fall, when a familiar figure came zooming in front of you and crashing into your bully, instantly knocking him to the ground, causing him to scrape his knee. While he kept squirming on the ground, Satoru instantly snatched the book from his hands.
“I told you to leave her alone,” Satoru growled at the boy as he stumbled back on his feet, blood steaming through his torn jeans. His brows were narrowed in pure anger, telling you he was about to retaliate towards your friend, but Satoru sported a stern posture and a look that one would be stupid to defy.
Soon enough, it seemed like the pain set in after a few seconds, and the anger in his eyes turned glossy, trying to hide the fact that his bottom lip was quivering and his nostrils were flaring like he was about to cry.
Satoru shot an ugly glare at the two other boys, who didn’t seem sure what to do with themselves. “You want to taste the gravel as well?” Satoru threatened, the three boys sharing a worrying look. It didn’t take long before they decided to scatter with their tail between their legs. The boy who’d ruined your book, trying to conceal a limp but failing terribly.
The second they had their backs turned to you, Satoru turned his full attention to you with a softened expression, genuinely worried. “You okay?” He hurried to ask, scanning you from top to toe to see if there were any visible injuries. However it was only your pride, and your manga, that was wounded.
Looking down at his hands, the tears came back right away at the scene of the mangled book.
“I’m fine,” you said under your breath, eyes still glued to the manga. Struggling to find the right words to comfort you, his eyes jumped between your glistening eyes and the torn book in his hands.
“I have this one at home! You can have mine, I never liked it anyway,” he rambled as he began to wave the book around, growing more uncomfortable as he saw the small tears roll down your red and puffy cheeks. “And don’t worry about them! They’re just stupid! And jealous. And, and-“ his frantic words stopped in his throat, forming into a nervous lump when you flicked your eyes up to meet his.
Despite the redness in them and the sniffling of your nose, he couldn’t help but think you looked pretty. Which only made him feel even worse, that someone could be so cruel to you.
You shrugged your shoulders slightly, wiping away the snot and tears from your face. “Thank you for stopping them.” In defeat, you grabbed the manga out of his hands and stuffed it into your backpack, not caring if you ruined it any further.
“C’mon, let’s go home.” He placed a friendly hand on your shoulder, and you began to walk home like usual.
The walk home was mostly quiet, Satoru not daring to say anything, not knowing what to say. He wanted to help, make you feel better, but all the things that popped into his head just felt like it wouldn't be enough. So when you reached your house, you simply waved him goodbye before disappearing.
Once he entered his own home, his parents were on his neck instantly. They were furious, because they’d received an angry phone call from a distraught parent explaining how Satoru had purposely attacked their son.
Satoru had tried to explain the situation and defend himself, saying he couldn’t just let them pick on you like that. Somehow, the heroic gesture didn’t seem to outweigh when the kid had walked home with a bloody knee, bawling his eyes out.
“You never resort to violence, Satoru,” his father had yelled at him, before they told him he was grounded for a week. Satoru was speechless. He had never been grounded before, and he didn’t understand why he was being punished when he firmly believed he had done the right thing.
Unable to defend himself further, he stomped to his room and started his homework like he had been told to do. He didn’t get much work done though, as he mostly moped the entire evening, neurotically tapping his pen against the textbook.
You, much like Satoru, spent the entire evening in your bedroom. For the first two hours, you just laid in your bed, sulking. Eventually you wanted to talk to someone — not just someone, Satoru. You made your way to the windowsill, waiting for him to show. And you waited. And waited. And waited some more.
It wasn’t until you were about to head to bed you saw his silhouette cracking open the window slowly. Jumping up, you opened your window immediately. “I’ve been waiting all afternoon!”
“Shhh, you gotta keep it down,” he said softly, barely able to hear him. “I’m not allowed to talk to you right now.”
You raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What? Why?” Leaning forward in the window frame, resting your head on your forearms.
“I’m grounded,” he shrugged, checking over his shoulder every now and then to make sure no one came to check in on him.
“For what?”
“Because I shoved him. He ran like a crybaby, making it seem worse than it was.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, so incredibly frustrated by the outcome.
“Really? I can explain what happened to your parents-“ he waved his hands out the window to stop you.
“I tried. They were quite upset. But it’s no big deal. It’s just a week.”
“So, I won’t be able to see you for a week?” You complained, to which he only looked at you with big eyes. It hadn’t really hit him that he wouldn’t be able to hang out with you while he was grounded, which only made this terrible situation even worse.
Pursing his lips in thought, he opened his mouth again to speak. “Guess we’ll just have to be sneaky with window meetings at night,” he laughed, making you laugh along as well.
“I guess so.”
“I gotta go to bed before mom and dad finds me talking to you,” he sighed. “So, guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow night.” Before he managed to shut his window, you called his name again.
“Hey, Satoru?” Looking back at you with big eyes, you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Thank you for today. It really meant a lot!”
Looking at your glowing gratitude, he did not regret his actions for a single second. He even knew, should the opportunity arise, he would not hesitate to defend you again. He’d risk all the punishment in the world if it meant having you looking at him like that again.
“Good night, ‘Toru,” you smiled sweetly, his heart doing a small flip at the sound of his new nickname.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
You were fifteen years old when Satoru finally grew passed you.
And once he passed you, it seemed like he never stopped. It wasn’t just you he passed, it was all his peers as well. And as he grew, so did his ego to match it. Of course, this also resulted in him endlessly teasing you.
“Imagine you used to be taller than me,” he laughed and placed his hand on top of your head.
“Yeah, and you’re the only one who cares,” you sighed, swiftly removing his hand from your head.
This all happened about the time you started high school, something Satoru had looked forward to since he himself first started high school. It finally gave you a chance to hang out during school hours, as you’d mostly been restricted to your classrooms in lower grades. He was also excited to introduce you to the small life he had there, which previously had been separated from you.
There was no doubt that Satoru Gojo, along with his small crew, were insanely popular. They basically ruled the school and they all welcomed you with open arms.
So, by association, you too became popular.
You fitted into his group perfectly, getting along with both Shoko and Suguru pretty much right of the bat. So he shouldn’t really have been complaining — except for the unforeseen circumstances that came with other people finally noticing you.
Ever since you were young, you hadn’t made a huge number of yourself, remaining somewhat anonymous, happy doing your only thing. Satoru had basically been your only friend. He knew he could never mention it to anyone, but he really enjoyed having you all to himself.
So when he noticed all the lingering looks you received just walking down the hall, some unfamiliar anger began to take shape in him.
Pretty much from your first day, he was bombarded with questions from his classmates. Who’s your friend? Is she single? Why aren’t you dating her? Will you introduce me? It got old real fast, and Satoru only found himself growing more and more frustrated by it, coming up with silly excuses to lead them in the opposite direction.
“Yeah, no, she’s- uhm, she’s single but her dad promised her a car if she doesn’t date ‘til she’s eighteen.”
They all gave him the same weird look. “If you’re seeing her, just say so.”
“No! We’re just friends!” He always rushed to defend himself, which always earned him a roll of their eyes before they shrugged off his weird behaviour. Lucky for him, his reputation saved him from anyone pushing it any further.
Despite his best efforts to keep guys at bay, there were still a few headstrong individuals who didn’t care about Satoru’s lame excuses or status, they still tried to pursue you. So to fend them off, he had other ways to make you seem unapproachable; excessive physical touch.
You never thought twice about it, as he had never been a stranger to physical touch. It wasn’t unusual for him to throw his arm over your shoulders when walking, or fidget with your fingers when he needed something to stimulate his agitation. You’d gotten so used to it over the years, that you’d simply grown accustomed to it.
After a while, most of the guys in school seemed to get the message that you were off limits. The hassle of his consistent protection for you combined with his position in the school, it just wasn’t worth it — that was ignoring some of the most persistent seniors, but he only found their attempts amusing as you so obviously found them disgusting.
Nonetheless, with time he could deem himself satisfied with the lack of male attention you received.
“So you’re joining us this weekend right?” Suguru, one of Satoru’s close friends, asked during lunch. You only narrowed your eyebrows at him in confusion. What you didn’t notice, was Satoru sitting beside you, furiously trying to stop Suguru from explaining further, glaring at him and waving his hands like a maniac.
“What’s this weekend?”
“Satoru didn’t tell you about the party?” A taunting smirk danced on his lips as he completely ignored Satoru’s disappointed glare. When you turned to question him, he immediately wiped off his disappointment and flashed you a shy smile.
“Party?”
“Yeah, I wasn’t really planning on going so,” he shrugged nonchalantly, trying to regain his ‘cool’ act.
“That’s not what you told us yesterday,” Shoko scoffed, a smirk matching Suguru’s plastered on her face.
It was in moments like these, you became incredibly aware of the age difference between the two of you. Sure, it was only two years, which you’d never thought much of — until you started high school. His interests and desires skewed in a more mature direction, which you weren’t necessarily ready for. It had become a lot more usual for him to go out with his friends during weekends. Even though he usually returned home early and met you at the window, it still sucked.
Did you want to go to the party? No, not really. But if you were being honest, you were absolutely terrified of Satoru slipping away from you if you weren’t able to keep up with him. Besides, you only felt guilt at the thought that he might have changed his mind about going because of you. So what harm could it do to attend, even if it was for just an hour?
“I mean, if you want to go,” you trailed off, wanting so much to seem natural about it all. “I don’t wanna stop you.” With a small shrug, you were almost certain to managed to seem casual.
“So that’s a yes?” Shoko cheered quietly from the opposite side of the table.
“I guess so,” a small chuckle leaving your lips.
Satoru, on the other hand, wasn’t as excited about you joining them as his friends. Nervously bouncing his leg under the table, he began to imagine all the things that could happen. He tried to tell himself the main reason he was so upset about the whole thing was that he was concerned something bad might happen, but in reality, he hated the idea of an arena for random dudes to hang over you all night.
You interrupted his spiralling when you suddenly raised from the table. “I have to run by the library before class,” you sighed before you rushed off, Satoru’s eyes never leaving you until you’d left the cafeteria.
“What is your deal?” Shoko laughed, drawing his attention back to the table. “Since when do you turn down a party, even if you leave after an hour?”
“I don’t know, just don’t think it’ll be her scene, that’s all,” he excused himself, picking at his food, suddenly not having an appetite anymore.
“I know you two, like, grew up together or whatever, and you have this strange need to protect her, but she’s able to take care of herself. You’ve seen how she talks to Fushiguro,” she laughed again.
“It’s not that,” he sighed, avoiding making eye contact with his friends.
“You remember what it was like to be a freshman. Things like these are exciting,” Suguru shot in. Satoru simply shrugged at his comment. “Look, we’ll all keep an eye on her. And you don’t drink anyways, so you’ll be more than sober enough to make sure she’s okay.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Satoru mumbled and stood up from his seat, still not looking at them. “I’ll see you guys later.”
And before you knew it, the weekend came rolling in and you found yourself clutching onto Satoru’s arm for dear life, scared you’d lose him in the crowd.
“We can leave if you want to,” he leaned down to say nearly the second you’d entered the house.
“No, no. It’s fine. Let’s just… find Shoko and Suguru.”
It was a lot to take in. People singing and dancing, chugging drink after drink. But your nerves calmed down when you felt Satoru’s strong hands squeeze yours in reassurance. And once you found the others, your body just felt a lot more at ease. It didn’t take long for you to actually enjoy yourself, even though you decided to stay away from the alcohol, at least for this time.
What wasn’t as enjoyable, was all the female attention Satoru received throughout the evening. It was no secret he was a popular guy, girls lining up to talk to him. But when it came to the girls at school, they mostly just gawked and giggled while he innocently entertained their interests. No, these girls were different. They had clear intentions of taking it further, giving him looks you did not appreciate.
And it bothered you. Oh lord, how it bothered you.
Sitting so close to you, his leg pressed up against yours, you sadly got a front row view of when the girls leaned over and batted their long eyelashes at him, flashing him seductive smiles. You were beyond uncomfortable, trying to look anywhere but scene taking place mere inches from you.
You had no reason to be upset — you were only friends and you’d only ever been friends. Never had the idea of anything else crossed your mind, but you hadn’t ever witnessed ladies glue themselves to him like this before.
“Hey, you okay?” Satoru interrupted your thoughts, turning over to see he was focused on you, the girl at his side quirking an eyebrow.
“‘M fine,” you mumbled, a small smile drawing at your lips. He scanned your face, taking a deep sigh in thought, reading you so clearly.
Out of nowhere, Satoru jumped up from his seat, holding his hand out for you to grab. He wore that award winning smile of his as he opened his mouth, “come on.”
A smile grew on your face to match his as you eagerly let him pull you off the couch before he playfully threw his arm over your shoulder, leading you out the living room. As you walked, you swore you could hear the girl he talked to earlier scoff.
“How does ice cream sound to you?” Looking down at you as he shielded out the tight crowd as he lead you out the door.
And as the two of you left the party, there was laughter on your lips and a genuine, special joy in your eyes you seemed to have reserved only for each other. Shoko and Suguru, however, kept a confused eye on you as you exited the house.
“I’ll never understand them,” Shoko shook her head, before turning to look at her friend who seemed just as frustrated by you and Satoru as she was. “I mean, they’re clearly into each other, right?”
Suguru exhaled sharply through his nose in what sounded like it was supposed to be a chuckle. “It’s weird if they aren’t.”
“When he talked about her before, I just figured they were best friends, like he said. But after meeting her and seeing them together-“
“No, I agree,” Suguru laughed before she was able to finish her sentence. “I’ve never seen ‘best friends’ act like they do.” Shoko nudged his side with her elbow to bring his attention to the girl Satoru had flirted with seconds before he had just stranded her alone on the couch, to see she was pouting, arms crossed over her chest as she stared at the door like she was waiting for him to return.
“Neither has she,” she laughed.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
You were seventeen years old the first time you had your heart broken. Really broken.
Standing outside your boyfriend — no scratch that. Standing outside what was now your ex boyfriend’s front door, you tried to wrap your head around what had just happened, silent tears falling slowly down your face.
It had come out of no where. Yesterday, everything had seemed fine, and now he had suddenly come to the conclusion that you were no longer a good match? It made no sense.
Shaking your head as you took a deep breath, you knew there was only one person who might be able to help you feel a little better. Not to mention, he was probably the only person in the universe right now you could stand to see at all.
The fifteen minute walk from where you’d just had your heart stomped on to your neighbourhood had never felt longer. The silence that filled the dark and abandoned streets was numbing, leaving more room for the self deprecating thoughts to fill your mind. What had you done wrong? What could you have done differently? Was there someone else, someone prettier and funnier than you? Had you not been dedicated enough?
Despite the insane sadness that filled you, you thought if it were to happen, this weekend was probably the best timing, seeing as you wouldn’t have been able seek comfort had it happened any other time. Having taken a gap year after high school to earn money, Satoru worked a lot but he had for once gotten a weekend off. And his parents were out of town on some conference, meaning there was no risk of either of them opening the door to greet your grief struck face.
Soon enough you found yourself in front of the familiar front door, a tiny lump forming in your throat as you placed three soft knocks on the door. Before you knew it, Satoru stood right in front of you, his initial reaction of joy melting away once he processed you were upset.
“What happened?” His voice was so soft, eyes filled with worry.
“Can I come in?” Your voice was barely louder than a whisper.
“Yeah! Of course.” He stepped aside, letting you pass him and enter his home. “You want anything? Is this like an ice cream kinda situation, because I think we have some cookie dough flavoured in the freezer.”
A broken chuckle slipped out of you, followed by a sob. “No, thank you, I’m fine. Just needed to see you,” you sniffled furiously.
“Yeah, sure.” Without saying another word, you simply helped yourself up the stairs and to his bedroom. His eyes never left you as you carefully sat down on his bed and he sat down on his desk chair.
Uncomfortable wasn’t necessarily the word he’d use for seeing you like this, because it had happened before — just not very often. You’d always been a quiet charmer, if there was a way to describe it. Out of the two of you, he’d always been the loud and outgoing one, but he definitely saw you as the one who spread the most joy to those around you, a natural sense of cheerfulness radiating from you. Not to mention you were usually the one who stood for the comforting and advice, meaning he was at a loss on what to do.
“What happened?” He asked carefully.
“We broke up.” The words left you so quickly and easily, Satoru had to blink a few times to realise what you’d just said. “Or he broke up with me is probably more correct.” You avoided his gaze, staring directly at your hands tucked between your thighs, the tears leaving dark circles on your jeans.
“I thought things were going well.”
“So did I.” You wiped your nose with the back of your hand, still sniffling like crazy. “I know you never liked him and didn’t get along with him but I really liked him, y'know?”
A pang of guilt came crashing in over Satoru. He hadn’t been subtle about his dislike for your boyfriend, and it started before the two of you even became official. He did not miss the opportunity to throw a snide comment about him when you brought him up or constantly quarrel on the few occasions they were in the same room. But he couldn’t help it.
Satoru had been so focused on all the guys lining up for you in school, he hadn’t even thought of the boys that might find their way to you from elsewhere.
He still remembered the evening you came home from work at the coffeehouse, such a sweet smile on your face and a blush across your nose when he’d met you at the window that night. So giddy over this cute boy who’d chatted you up and ended up getting your number. Had Satoru known then he’d break your heart this badly, he’d tried harder to shut it down.
“I know I gave him a hard time, but I know you liked him,” he tried to comfort you. “And I’m certain he cared for you too. It’s hard not to.”
“Urgh, I’m such an idiot,” you cracked, hiding your face in your hands as the sobs just tumbled out in one steady stream.
“Hey,” Satoru said, rushing out of his chair to crouch in front of you. Tenderly he grabbed ahold of your wrists to remove them from your face, carefully trying to dry the tears away. “You’re not an idiot, okay?”
A small scoff made its way out of you between the sobs. “I’m not even sure he ever cared about me.”
When your name rolled off his tongue with more compassion than you’d ever heard from him before, your eyes snapped up to meet his. “Listen to me! I am certain he did. I know what you dedicated to that relationship, and he’d be crazy not to care for you. Not just crazy, but a damn magician as well because it’s genuinely impossible. Believe me, I know.” A small smile grew on his lips when he heard he was able to draw a small chuckle out of you. “You’re not an idiot. You just have a big heart. And he’s the idiot if he thinks he should let it go.”
He dried what seemed to be one of your last tears with his thumb, before tucking some of your hair behind your ear. His caring gaze traveled your face, taking in every detail he could when the memory from when you were kids popped into his mind. Just like that time, looking at you all red and puffy, he again found himself thinking you were pretty. Not just pretty — beautiful.
“Thank you, ‘Toru,” you whispered.
“Any time.”
“Can I stay here tonight?”
“Scandalous,” he said dramatically, earning him another shy smile from you. Both of you knew you didn’t have to ask, having slept over hundreds of time throughout the years.
“Who knew you were so good at this,” you smiled weakly as he stood up to go get the extra duvet he had in his closet, which was basically just an extra duvet for you.
“Pfft, I am Satoru Gojo after all. Is there anything I can’t do?” He flashed you a proud grin, instantly rolling your eyes at him.
“You’re not the greatest cook last time I che-“ before you were able to finish your sentence, a pillow came crashing into your face. A lighthearted giggle escaped you, and again Satoru felt his heart flutter a little, so pleased he’d managed to brighten your terrible evening a little bit.
“Watch it, sweetheart, or I’ll have you sleep on the floor.”
“You would never,” you smiled before grabbing one of Satoru’s t-shirts, like you always did, and headed for the bathroom.
Once you met your reflection in the mirror, your eyes grew as all the signs of tonight’s sorrow was incredibly visible on your face. And to think Satoru had seen you like this, knowing he’d tease you endlessly about it once things settled down and you could laugh about it all.
Your eyes were swollen from all the crying, mascara lines down your puffy cheeks. Still sniffling, you cleaned your face, dabbing a hot cloth in hopes you might redeem some of your dignity as you washed away your heartbreak. Looking in the mirror, a sigh left you knowing that this was probably as good as it was going to get. At least you didn’t have makeup smeared all over your face anymore.
Shuffling back into his bedroom, wearing his t-shirt nonetheless, a small lump formed in his throat at the sight of you as he had to fight the urge to let his eyes indulge in your entire figure. What was going on? A million times had you spent the night, and a million times had you gone to bed wearing his shirt, yet tonight felt different. He felt there was something in the air that had shifted, but it went unsaid. So without another word, he simply made his way passed you and to the bathroom. You, on the other hand, paid no attention to his odd behaviour, simply laying down on the bed on the side closest to the wall, your side.
Despite not picking up on his averted gaze, you too sensed there was something in the atmosphere that seemed different than usual, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what. You could easily just blame the breakup, which was definitely lingering in the air, but you knew that wasn’t quite it either. There was something in the tension that you felt were directly connected to Satoru.
When you felt his weight press down on the bed next to you, you reactively turned to look at him, surprised to see he was already laying on his side looking right back at you. Staring deeply into your eyes, you felt as if he was trying to tell you something but you couldn’t make it out.
Same went for Satoru, as he felt it deep down that there was something he needed to tell you but he had no idea what it was, only that it weighed heavier on him now that the evening had been so emotional and raw.
“‘Toru?”
“Hm?”
“What was it about him you didn’t like?” Satoru couldn’t help but smirk somewhat shamefully.
“It’s not important,” a slight chuckle slipping out of him.
“With a smile like that, you have to tell me.” Satoru readjusted his head on the pillow, ending up even closer to your face than intended but neither of you pulled away.
“Well, I like it best when I have you to myself.”
“Please,” you scoffed, tucking one of your hands under your cheek, carefully tilting forward a little. “That’s ridiculous, even for you.”
“No, I’m serious,” he gave you a sweet smile. “We’ve been so close for so long, it’s weird suddenly having to share you.”
You took a deep sigh, your heart skipping a small beat at his answer. “Well, I had to share you first.”
His eyebrows instantly pinched together into a frown, a humorous smirk on his lips. “Excuse me?”
“So you’ve forgotten when you first started high school? It was always ‘Suguru this’ and ‘Shoko that’.”
“That’s not the same,” he mocked you.
“How’s that not the same?” Offended at his disregard for your experience of him suddenly having a bigger social circle, you knew it was all in a playful manner.
“Because-” was all he managed to get out before you noticed his eyes betraying him as they quickly glanced down at your lips, before looking back into your eyes. Drawing a sharp breath, you swore you might be able to spot a strong blush heat his face, but it was too dark to tell for sure.
He exhaled a shaky breath, which you felt brush against your face making you realise just how close you were to each other.
All the hairs on your body stood up when you felt his light touch brush against your arm that was resting between you. Was this weird? You didn’t know. It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d touched you like this, so what was making tonight so different?
One slight movement and your noses would grace against each other. He could do it, he could just tilt his head forward and his lips would connect with yours and he was certain it would be delicious. Your eyes had captured his gaze, and he felt as if he could stare into them forever-
No, stop!
You flinched at his sudden movements when he pulled away to turn around, with his back facing you.
His heart sunk into his stomach, mentally cursing himself now that he wasn’t facing you anymore. He couldn’t believe he had actually wanted to kiss you, his best friend. It wouldn’t be right, especially not tonight when you were as vulnerable as you were. He’d be a complete asshole to take advantage of that. Not to mention how embarrassed he would have been in the morning when you weren’t trapped under the haze of heartbreak and would have realised how much of a mistake it had been.
“Good night,” he said in his usual, cheerful tone and the curse was broken.
The next morning, you’d woken up to an empty bed, much like you always did when you spent the night. What was out of the ordinary, was seeing him in the kitchen in full swing serving pancakes and ice cream calling it “the breakfast for breakups”.
You couldn’t tell if you were hurt or not by how he was acting, as if last night never happened. Was he not going to mention how close the two of you had been to locking lip? He simply went about the morning, just as happy as he always was.
And never brought it up.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
You were eighteen years old when you and Satoru fell apart.
Satoru had left for college, and at first you’d been so lost on what to do. For the first time since you were six, he wasn’t immediately at your side.
You remembered the day he left so clearly, clinging on around his neck, refusing to let go because you didn’t want him to get in his car and drive off, unsure when you’d see him again. When the two of you eventually managed to break the hug, you heard a not so subtle sniffle and spotted faint redness around his eyes.
“Don’t tell me you’re crying, ‘Toru,” you teased in between your own sniffles.
“You got me there,” he said with a sad chuckle slipping out, surprising you that he didn’t even attempt to fire back, just surrendering to his emotions. “Gonna miss you.”
“Gonna miss you too,” you whispered in response. Not much more was spoken before he drove off, like it all was just too much for either of you to talk about.
The first few days you didn’t do much else than lay in bed and wait for him to call, like he promised he would. And exactly at 8 pm, your phone lit up with his name where he told you all about how hectic his days were — and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to have daily calls anymore once the semester started for real.
“No, of course. I mean, I go back to school soon too so.”
And as the time went on, the calls got more and more rare. From every day, to three times a week, once a week, until you were lucky it happened every fourteen days.
Even though you hated it, you couldn’t blame him. Of course he was busy, he had an entirely new everyday life filled with classes and new people. And when he did make time for the phone call, you couldn’t help but feel genuine happiness when you heard how excited he was about all of it. But you knew you couldn’t keep sitting around sulking as you waited for his call. You decided you had to be okay without him.
It was your senior year after all — it was your time to shine, and you were still with the popular crowd even though Satoru wasn’t there anymore. Now you finally had the opportunity to get to know them better.
Turned out you had more in common with them than you thought, getting particularly close with the girls of the group. And it was refreshing to have girl friends, who seemed to match some of your interests in a way Satoru never managed to. Your horizons just expanded, your schedule packed nearly from morning until night. Not to mention your weekends were also busy. The parties you and Satoru usually left early or skipped all together, had become fun.
This weekend was no different. Sitting at your vanity doing your makeup for the evening when you heard your mom’s voice yell from downstairs. “There’s someone here to see you.”
“Just send her up,” you yelled back. But when you turned around to face who you thought was your friend who was coming to get ready with you, your jaw dropped at the sight of the tall figure standing there instead.
“Her? Not the last time I checked,” Satoru smiled.
“Oh, my god, ‘Toru!” You squealed in excitement, running at him as you threw your arms around him in a tight hug, smiling even harder when he hugged you back just as firmly.
When he let you down, your eyes was instantly drawn to his. It’s been so long since you’d been able to stare into those captivating, blue eyes, and now you melted having them look down on you for the first time in months. Now that you were finally able to see him again, to touch him again, it hit you like a semi truck just how much you had missed him. You even found yourself getting a little emotional, blinking away the wetness in your eyes.
“God, don’t wanna ruin my makeup,” you laughed.
“I was just about to say, you look great,” he said, unable to peer his eyes off you, because ‘great’ was an understatement.
“Why, thank you,” you beamed at him, a smile stretching from one ear to another.
“Going somewhere?” His eyebrows narrowed, letting his chipper composure slip for just a second but he quickly tried to shake it off.
“Yeah, there’s a party tonight. The group’s going, but I can cancel if-“
“No, of course not. I’m home all weekend.” There was a slight twinge in your heart, disappointed that he didn’t have the guts to accept your offer. There was not a single ounce of doubt that you’d drop the party for him in a heartbeat — you had after all longed for him to come home to visit since the second his car had driven out of view the day he left.
“Well, maybe you could come along?” You suggested, grabbing his hands in yours.
“I just think I’m going to stay home with my parents tonight,” he swallowed, giving you a weak smile.
He knew he should have just taken you up in the offer to ditch the party, but he didn’t have the heart to, especially when you were all dolled up for the evening already.
All he’d looked forward to was come home and hang with you and catch up all night, never falling asleep because he had missed your voice so much. But he knew that eventually, the guilt would eat him up, hogging you for the night when you were supposed to be somewhere else.
Now he had to sit at home, alone and bored, because he had lied when he told you about his parents, seeing as they weren’t back in town until tomorrow. He knew he would spend the night miserable, but it would beat having to tag along at your heels to a party he didn’t want to attend in the first place and witness how close you’d gotten to all your new friends while he’d been away, still preferring to have you to himself.
“Will you at least stay until I leave? And then I’m all yours for the whole of tomorrow?” For the time being, he managed to let his blues slip away, especially when you gawked at him with a sparkle in your eyes and an infectious smile.
“Of course.” His eyes followed your cheerful walk back to your vanity as he sat down on your bed. Once seated, your conversation flowed like normal, as if no time had passed at all since the last time you saw each other. He told you about classes and how much more difficult it was now, especially seeing as he wasn’t the biggest fan of studying.
And he knew he should be excited when you told him everything about your new life. How you’d finally taken the time to get the know the rest of the group and how great they all were, how fun you had it with all of them with all the stuff you guys did in your spare time, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t sting. He felt as if he was missing everything, losing the spot he used to have with you, replaced by his old friends. He knew it was unfair to think that way, but but there was no stopping his doomed spiralling.
“Oh, and that’s probably her coming now!” You perked up when footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs. The next second, a girl he knew used to be in his friend group stood in the doorway.
“Satoru? What a pleasant surprise,” she beamed at him, and guilt hit him when he couldn’t even remember her name.
“Yeah, just home for the weekend,” he smirked at her.
She flashed him another smile before turning to you. “You ready?”
“Just about,” you sighed. Quickly, you grabbed your purse and skipped over to Satoru. “See you tomorrow, okay?” You said cheerfully as you placed a quick peck on his cheek before running out, leaving him standing alone in your bedroom.
He stared dumbfounded at the empty space you occupied just seconds ago, still surprised by the kiss as it was something completely new. Was that something you’d picked up from the group? Did that mean you went around kissing everyone’s cheeks? His mind ran crazy with questions, all making him equally jealous.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” you whispered into the phone still ringing. It was the third time you had tried to call Satoru and he still hadn’t picked up, which was incredibly unlike him. He always picked up almost immediately, especially when you were calling.
“Hey,” you finally heard him sigh on the other end of the line.
“Thank god you answered,” you said, teeth chattering in the freezing cold. “Could you please, please, please pick me up?”
“You okay?” There was a hint of worry in his voice, but you had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to conceal it.
“No. Or yes. Or I don’t know, but I’m cold and I need to go home!” Another sigh.
“Where are you?”
“You’re my angel,” you breathed before giving him the address.
“I’ll be there in fifteen.” Before you managed to say goodbye, Satoru had already hung up. You stared blankly at the phone for a few seconds in shock of his abrupt ending, but right now, you were too cold to ponder any further on his behaviour. Tightly having folded your arms around yourself and rubbing your legs together, you desperately tried to get some heat in your body.
Finally, you saw the familiar car pull up in front of you, a sigh of relief leaving your body once you were greeted by the hot air as you sat down in the passenger seat.
“You’re really a life saver,” you spoke as you leaned your head back on the headrest, waiting to meet his eyes but he never turned to look at you. His eyes were glued to the road, a tight grip on the steering wheel as he kept chewing on the inside of his cheek. “You okay, ‘Toru?”
“‘M just fine,” he answered simply, still fixated on the road.
“Then why won’t you look at me?” You snorted, which made him quickly turn his head to give you a cold glare before looking at the road again.
“How come you were standing out in the cold all alone?” When he didn’t acknowledge your question further, you just fell back into your seat again and decided not to take it any further.
“You don’t wanna know,” you sighed, staring out the window.
“No, I’m curious.” If his tone told you anything, it was that he was pissed. You just hoped it wasn’t directed at you.
“I was kicked out.”
“What, too drunk to be in the house?” His comment caught you off guard at it seemed nothing but spiteful. You flipped your head to look at him again, only to see he was still unwilling to look at you.
“Do I seem too drunk to you?” He only shrugged, knowing the answer was ‘no’. “If you wanna know, I-“ you stopped yourself from finishing, too embarrassed to utter the words.
“Don’t get shy on my behalf.”
“I was about to sleep with someone, but after we undressed, something came over him and he just threw me out,” you complained, crossing your arms and staring at the road like he had earlier.
“You what?” Satoru exclaimed, and now he finally decided to shoot you a glare. “Who?”
“Does it matter?” You shrugged, avoiding his gaze which you knew was just purely judgemental. It seemed he was more upset about the part where you were going to sleep with someone than the fact that you were literally thrown out, which only ended up fuelling your own anger.
“Who was it?” He repeated sternly.
“Just some guy I met there, I don’t know,” you shrugged, and instantly a loud huff left Satoru.
“Wow,” he said in utter disbelief. “So this is who you are now.” Finally turning to look at him again, your face hot with anger, you saw his eyebrows were raised in frustration and his tongue was poking the inside of his cheek.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Never knew you to be someone who just spread your legs for anyone.” You gaped at him, not believing the words coming out of his mouth.
“Stop the car,” you managed to force out somewhat calmly through gritted teeth.
“I’m not stopping-“
“Stop the fucking car, Satoru,” you practically yelled at him, startled when he suddenly slammed the breaks. Once the car had stopped, you didn’t hesitate to unbuckle your seatbelt and scramble out of the car, hearing him call your name before you slammed the door shut after you.
With your arms wrapped around yourself, you started to walk down the street in the direction of your house, knowing you were still pretty far from home. But you knew you were too furious to get back in the car with Satoru.
“Come on, get back in the car,” Satoru’s voice complained down the street.
“So you can slut shame me some more? Think I’ll pass,” you shouted back. It took only a second until you heard the car engine shut off before hurried footsteps against the wet pavement made its way over to you, Satoru positioning himself right in front of you.
“Fine, sorry, please get back in the car,” he said disingenuous, scowling down at you with his hands in his pockets.
“You expect me to accept that apology?” You scowled right back at him.
“Stop acting like a brat and just-“
“Brat? Really?” You interrupted him, raising your eyebrows at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it just as quickly with a deep sigh. “Thought so.” Keeping your mean glare at him, you tried to walk past him, but he surprised you by taking a strong grip of your arm.
“So is this like a weekly occurrence now?” You forcefully pulled out of his grip.
You simply shrugged while trying to find the right answer, wanting to keep your own anger in check even though you felt you were close to boiling over. “I mean, there’s something happening every weekend but that doesn’t mean I always participate.” He only scoffed, turning away from you and looking around the street. “What?”
“So now you’re just this crazy party girl that sleeps with anyone that’s available?”
You truly couldn’t believe it was Satoru saying these words to you, your best friend in the entire world. The person you’d known most your life, who knew your every deepest, darkest secret and had never judged you in the slightest — suddenly throwing mean words right to your face like you were just some nobody.
“Like you’re one to talk! You flirt with any girl that has a pulse, and not just in school. Remember, you went to parties too and enjoyed wallowing in the attention of anyone who’d give it to you!”
“I never liked going to parties. I still don’t,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Glad to see some things hasn’t changed, unlike the fact that you’ve turned into an asshole,” you spat at him, trying to walk away again, but he yanked a hold of you once more.
“Well, I’m not the only one who has changed,” he said in a low voice, giving you a stern look through his eyebrows.
A light laugh of disbelief escaped you, the tears quickly starting to well up in your eyes. Was this really the same person you’d physically been unable to let go off five months ago? The one person you believed could never intentionally hurt you the way he was now?
“That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” Flickering between his eyes, you knew you’d caught on. “Did you really think I was going to sit around and wait for you?”
“I certainly didn’t expect you to go and replace me the first chance you got.”
“Replace you?!” You exclaimed before the entire sentence had left his lips.
“Yes, replace me!” He fired back, his tone more angry than he wanted it to be, because sadness was all he truly felt.
“So you haven’t gotten any new friends at university?”
“That’s different-“
“Oh my god, Satoru,” you moaned in frustration, your hands rubbing your face. “I am so tired of you saying it is different for you! You’ve done that for years.”
Satoru had his hands deeply tucked in his pockets, his shoulders up to his ears with tension. He was already filled with guilt for talking to you this way, something he’d never done before. Then again, he couldn’t remember having this many negative feelings regarding you running wild in him.
“It’s baffling to me that you’re actually saying all these things to me, like it isn’t you that keep postponing our phone calls.” You said, your tone transformed from anger into the sorrow that had taken residence in you instead.
He breathed your name, almost like he seemed disappointed in a way. “Classes are riding my ass.”
“You don’t think I know that?” You fired back immediately, your tone remaining calm as you continued to hold back the tears. “But truth is, it has caused you to not make time for the phone calls.”
“You can’t expect me to be able to make time-“
What seemed to be the mix of a sob and a scoff parted your lips, cutting him off. It was like talking to a brick wall, because it felt like nothing you said reached him.
Had he always been like this? Too wrapped up with his own idea of being right that he took no regards for your opinion? If so, how had the two of you managed to go all those years without you properly realising it?
“If you haven’t been paying attention, it’s not me that’s had too many expectations, but you!”
His head fell back, retrieving his hands from his pockets to fold them over his chest. As his entire posture turned loose, you couldn’t bare to look at him when the first tear fell. He just seemed to be so sick of this conversation — sick of you — an idea that made you want to throw up on the spot.
“You’re being unreasonable,” he said in a low voice, as if he knew he was in the wrong but too stubborn to back down. He’d already been so cruel, a part of him feeling like he had already gone too far to double down now.
“I’m being unreasonable?!” You snapped, walking right up to him, now close enough to feel the heat radiate off him. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding with me?”
Never in a million years could you have predicted your favourite person in the universe to speak to you this way, biting your head off for simply living your life. But it went deeper than being upset about you going to some random party. It seemed like he truly disliked the person you were right now, and nothing had ever hurt you as much.
“For the record, I did wait. So many nights I just sat in my room, staring at the damn phone, waiting for you to call.” You were sobbing now, all restraints of your tears out the window. “But I think you’re not half as busy with your studies as you claim to be, but very busy making new friends, which is why it’s nothing but cruel of you to go at me like this!”
“You always do that!” He snapped, causing your sobs to halt for a second, eyebrows quirking up in surprise. “You always assume these things about me, paint me out to be this specific person without having all the facts.”
“I know you better than I know myself, for fucks sake! You hate to work, avoid it for all that it’s worth, and now you’re trying to tell me you work so hard?” Silence. “And you’ve always loved attention. You feed on it, and every single living person on this planet can’t help but just give it to you! I’m willing to bet my last dime you’re surrounded with all sorts of people just fighting for your time!”
Without stuttering, you fired shot after shot, feeling bad even though every last word of it was true.
The reality of the fight washed over you, knowing you’d never fought like this before. A friendship spanning twelve years was doomed to have some disagreements along the way. And with both you and Satoru having such strong personalities, there had been quite a few. But never had either of you ever turned mean, like right now, no matter how serious the argument had been.
“Despite what you might think, I’m not one of your silly school girls who just follow you around to stroke your ego. I’m my own person, always have been. And I’m sorry you’re pissy about the fact that I’m doing fine without you here and I’m sorry that the image you had of me is finally shattering.”
You felt you’d gotten what you had on your mind off your chest, and all that fell out of you now were uncontrollable sobs. Not only were you absolutely devastated, but you were scared. The person that stood before you didn’t feel like someone you knew, meaning you had no idea what might come out of his mouth next.
“Think I see you clearer than ever.”
Sucking your bottom lip in between your teeth, you tried to choke back your sobs, not feeling he was worthy of hearing the affect he had on you right now. You slowly began to nod your head, looking about for a few seconds before you simply began to walk away without saying another word. And this time you didn’t feel his hand grab your arm.
The second your head had hit the pillow after you’d gotten home, you erupted into loud, unruly sobs, that even managed to wake your parents. They stormed into your room, beyond scared something was terribly wrong, and your mom managed to pull your head into her lap, stroking your hair in an attempt to get you to calm down so you’d be able to tell them what had happened, but to no prevail. While she desperately tried to hum you to peace, your dad stood watching in anguish as he had no clue what to do in order to help.
Eventually, the sobs wore you out to the point where you fell asleep in her lap.
Waking up the next morning, you’d felt like it had all been just a horrible nightmare, and in just a few minutes, Satoru would stand at your door, so excited to just do absolutely nothing with you like you had planned.
But you sat in your bed and stared at the door, waiting for him to show up but he never did. When you became restless, you paced around the room, daring to glance out the window in hopes you’d spot him sitting by his windowsill. But here too, you were left disappointed. No Satoru shaped silhouette made himself known, and at some point during the day, he had shut the blinds without you noticing.
Two days later, your mom came into your room and asked why Satoru had left to go back to university already when you guys hadn’t hung out yet.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
You were twenty years old when you started university.
After a therapeutic gap year of working and travelling, you were finally ready to go back to school, excited to see what the life of a university student was all about.
So far it all seemed to go as smoothly as one could hope for — moving in and setting up in your small dormitory, putting in a lot of effort to make it a space where you could feel at home. Signing up for classes and getting all the books you needed was easier than expected, some kindhearted strangers more than willing to help you get it all right. And lastly, finding your way around campus wasn’t nearly the issue you thought it would be. You easily manoeuvred your way around the grounds, quickly coming across spots you could picture yourself just hanging out.
You were more than prepared by the time the first class rolled around, entering the huge auditorium, nervously walking down the stairs and sitting down in an available seat in one of the rows closer to the front.
Suddenly it began to dawn on you that you were actually in university, working your way to a future career like you’d always talked about. All your hard work in school, your academic achievements, finally paying off, letting you be in environment of equally dedicated individuals.
However, even though your peers seemed to be on the same level as you academically, you got the impression they had excelled passed you socially already. As you let your eyes roam the crowd, you noticed how people had already made friends and even formed groups, greeting each other with warm smiles as they sat down together.
You didn’t have the chance to brood about it for too long, as a roaring voice spoke up from the front of the classroom, drawing everyone’s attention to him, the chatter quickly quieting down. The assertive figure introduced himself before heading straight into the plans for the semester, asking if anyone had any questions. While a few students raised their voice, you just desperately wrote down everything being said, just in case it might be useful somewhere down the line.
“I look forward to teach you this introductory class in education. I’m sure you’ll make great teachers one day,” he smiled. “Before we get started, there’s someone I’d like to introduce. I have the privilege of being assigned a TA this semester — come on up.”
Everyone’s eyes followed the professors gesture towards the person who’d just gotten up from his chair by the exit. All the air was immediately sucked out of your lungs when your eyes landed on the one person you hadn’t expected to see.
“Good morning everyone,” he said in his characteristically suave voice, hearing the girls in the auditorium instantly begin to whisper amongst them at the sight of him. “I’m Satoru Gojo, I’ll be the professors teacher assistant this semester. Any questions you might-“
The words instantly died in his throat when his gaze landed on you, tensed up in your seat. He could almost see you shiver under his intense glare.
Nearly two years had passed since the last time he saw you, and not a day had gone by where he hadn’t cursed himself for how he treated you that night. He regretted it all, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to face you and apologise, even though you more than deserved it.
Eventually, the days just passed him by and it felt like an injustice for him to just jump into your life again so he decided not to, which resulted in the most miserable two years of his life.
You wanted to look away, but the shock of seeing him again had taken over your body, holding your attention hostage under his drilling blue eyes.
He’d let his hair grow a little longer, which suited him, even though he didn’t need it to improve his looks. It also seemed to have bulked up a little. Not much, just enough for you to notice as his navy, button up shirt hugged his arms in a way his clothes never had before.
“Mr. Gojo?” The professor’s voice broke his stare, bringing him back to real world and acknowledging all the faces staring at him.
“Yeah, sorry-“ he cleared his throat. “Any questions you might have, don’t hesitate to come to me,” he stuttered over his sentence, shooting you quick glance even though he tried to keep his attention on the crowd.
With a shy smile, he made his way back to his seat, his eyes once again finding you as he was seated. You shrunk in your seat, your entire body on fire from having his eyes observe you for the first time in so long, sure you’re heart might actually stop from the stress.
Throughout the entire lecture, you both kept stealing glances from one another, an unspoken sensation filling the air between you, like you both could feel how badly you’d missed and craved the other the period you’d been separated.
His eyes carried the same weight they always did when looking at you, uncomfortably restless in your seat, fidgeting with the paper of your notebook and trying to keep the tapping of your foot to a minimum. When your eyes weren’t automatically drawn to Satoru, you peeked at the clock hanging above the whiteboard, begging for time to pass so you could storm out of the classroom and finally be able to breath properly again.
You were sure the seconds lasted longer now than normal, but the lecture finally ended and you instantly began to gather your things, shoving them in your bag as quickly as possible. Daring to shoot Satoru another look, you were glad to see he’d been surrounded by students (mostly girls), hindering him from making his way to you — or so you thought.
“I have a meeting to get to,” Satoru lied, looking at you packing up your stuff before rushing up the stairs towards the auditorium exit. “But here’s my email. Just… send whatever questions you might have and I’ll answer as soon as I have the time.” It didn’t seem like anyone picked up on the fact that he was lying through his teeth, but they all wore a disappointed expression when he began to push his way through the crowd, sprinting up the stairs to catch up with you.
You stopped dead in your tracks, even though you wanted to just keep moving, when you heard that silky smooth voice speak your name. You reluctantly turned around to face him, still only managing to let out shallow breaths.
“I- Uhm.” Now that he finally had your full attention, his mind ran blank and his mouth dry, in awe at your familiar eyes staring up at him, lips pressed together in a tight line. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you tried to reply, but barely a sound could be heard. His eyes shot to your feet, as you kept shifting your weight from one foot to the other, clearly not at ease seeing him again.
“You look- I mean I didn’t know you wanted to become a teacher,” he stumbled over his words, his hand coming up to rub the nape of his neck.
“Me neither,” it slipped out of you, instantly pinching your eyes shut when you reflected on what had left your lips. “What I mean is I only decided recently.”
He groaned softly, feeling like nothing he wanted to say would be enough. “You finding university alright?”
It hurt. Holy hell, how it hurt, not to have the conversation flow as natural. Every atom in your body tried to convince you to just lean into what you were used to, resurrect the friendship just like that.
You nodded frantically at his question. “Yeah, much to see.”
Clearing his throat, he gathered up the courage to ask what had roamed his mind since he spotted you at the start of the lecture. “If you’re ever available, I’d love for us to grab a coffee or something,” he said it so quickly you were barely able to decode what he even suggested, but once it registered, you drew another sharp breath.
“Sure.”
“Really?” Narrowing his eyebrows at you, he hadn’t expected you to accept so willingly. He hadn’t really expected you to accept at all, if he was honest.
You didn’t know if you regretted accepting his invitation so quickly, but if there was a chance he’d apologise, you wanted to hear it simply because you deserved it. Or maybe that was the excuse you told yourself because you so desperately wanted to hang out with him.
“You haven’t changed your number, right?” You shook your head. “I’ll just text you.” The faintest smile grew on your lips as you simply nodded, a light blush spreading across Satoru’s face at the delightful sight.
“See you around, ‘Toru,” you said out if habit, quickly turning around and walking away so he wouldn’t be able to see that you too were blushing, regretting the use of his old nickname.
It didn’t even take two hours before your phone dinged with a text from him, where he suggested a time and place.
toru <3: how about next friday after the lecture? there’s this great coffeehouse five minutes from campus
you: sounds good :)
It seemed Friday couldn’t come quick enough, your anxiousness building up every lecture you had together. Despite feeling like the worst of the shock had passed as you simply flashed each other a friendly smile and a small wave when you saw each other, your mind would never get peace until everything was out in the open.
And now you finally sat opposite him, a strong grip on your mug to put your nerves somewhere. Satoru was scared you might shatter it, your knuckles turning white by how hard you were clutching at it.
“I’m really glad you decided to join,” he started awkwardly.
In all the years you’d known him, you’d never had the satisfaction of witnessing him awkward. It seemed like his default setting was mr. smooth talker, always able to find the right words in order to get what he wanted no matter how unlikely it seemed. But all that was out the window, staring at you with a sense of embarrassment, looking like a scared, young boy forced to face his stupid crush, waiting to get rejected after a sorry attempt at asking for a date.
“Me too.”
“You look really pretty- I mean, you look great. You’ve turned out pretty. Not that you were ugly before, you’ve never been ugly. In fact-“
His clumsy attempt at talking to you was cute, which was all it took to start chipping away at your cold exterior, the corner of your lips betraying you as it curled up in a small smirk.
“Thank you,” you said softly, his shoulders instantly relaxing.
Something about you was definitely different, but the tone in your voice made him realise it was actually you that was sitting in front of him; his best friend. There was no reason he shouldn’t be anything but comfortable around you. Especially now when he’d been offered the opportunity to maybe make amends, he couldn’t throw it away.
“I’m sorry,” he said genuinely. “I don’t want to give you any dumb excuses, because there aren’t any. I’m sorry and you didn’t deserve any of what I said to you that night.”
His voice had turned steady now, taking back the assertiveness you were so used to hearing. “I’m sorry too.”
He instantly snorted, much to your surprise. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about.” He seemed to hold back a chuckle.
“Well, duh, but thought it was polite thing to say.” You were surprised by your own words, mirroring his humoured and shocked expression. Maybe he didn’t deserved to have you resort to playful banter already, but it just fell out of you so naturally. “You look great too, by the way.”
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” he smirked smugly, while you rolled your eyes at him.
“Uneasy is the head that wears the crown,” you corrected him, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.
“Okay, nerd.”
Your lips pursed together, unable to fight it anymore, a sweet smile hiding under the annoyed facade — and he noticed, his heart doing a full flip at finally being able to see it in person again. He’d only been able to dream of it in the time apart, and a hope began to spring in him that finally he might get you back in his life.
And this was just the first coffee of many. It started as a weekly thing, in the beginning consisting of airing it all out in order to establish the trust again. But it didn’t take long until you both fell into an old and familiar pattern.
It started with tagging along to lectures. Next thing, Satoru suggested you ordered dinner while studying, however not much studying was done. The evening was spent sitting on the floor of your dorm, stuffing your faces with take out and reminiscing of your days back in high school, talking about all the gossip and drama that went down.
There was a mutual understanding that you both had to make up for the lost time, both sad you’d wasted so long not being in contact when it could all have been resolved if you’d both been mature enough to just reach out.
But despite both of you resorting to old habits, quickly acting as close as you were back then, things had escalated.
Before, he’d simply thrown his arm lazily across your shoulders without a single thought. Now his muscular arm held a more possessive grip on you like he was preventing another outcome of you slipping away. And unlike before, you matched his energy, letting your arm slide along his back and grab tightly ahold of his waist to secure him close to you.
When he subconsciously began to fidget with your fingers, you eventually let your fingers glide between his to interlock your hands, where both of you just let them rest, his thumb softly stroking you.
And when he was gentleman enough to open the door for you every chance he got, he gawked at you with pure affection in his eyes and he sneakily let his hand rest on the small of your back as you passed him.
Neither of you ever mentioned it. You gladly just let it happen, both leaning into it, getting more and more touchy as time went on. And it didn’t go unnoticed by your fellow students, ugly glares in your direction as they wondered how you’d gotten so close to the incredibly hot TA in the matter of weeks, also considering how many people he had throwing themselves at his feet.
You couldn’t care less however. You were simply living in the joyful bliss of having your best friend back.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
His jaw dropped to the floor when you stepped out of the bathroom, not even noticing his lingering gaze on you, simply walking over to your purse to get your lipgloss.
The sinfully short dress hugged your curves just right, leaving little to the imagination. His eyes darted to the knee high, leather boots that elongated your enticing legs before letting his eyes indulge up your body, tracing your exposed collarbones-
“Satoru?” Drawing his attention to your face, which genuinely left him stunned having enhanced your already beautiful features, hair tucked up messily by a claw clip. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
More like an angel, he thought, trying to snap out of the haze you had him under as he slowly began to approach you.
What was happening?
There was a hunger in his eyes you’d never seen before, at least not looking at you. It was like he moved in slow motion, your heart quickly picking up the pace the closer he got. “Satoru?” You asked again, but a tremble in your voice exposed your nerves. “What are you doing?”
A confident, on brand smirk made its way onto his face, revealing his infamous dimples as he let his hand slip to your cheek, sliding it to the side of your throat and letting his thumb draw graciously soft lines along your jaw.
“I should have kissed you that night.”
His quiet confession filled the room, having your sole focus be his eyes, those beautiful, heavenly eyes that always saw right through you. The night in question had often played in your mind, fantasising about what could have happened if either of you had decided to cross the line.
“Would you have kissed me back?” The dominance in his voice had a weird influence on you, causing your eyes to flicker away from his eyes to travel across the attractive line of his curved lips.
“Without hesitation.” His grin widened, his thumb now moving to stroke your bottom lip. Much like that god forsaken night, he leaned forward, but this time he let his nose brush against yours, his breath brushing against your lips.
“We’re skipping the party,” he whispered.
“Didn’t wanna go anyways,” you huffed before finally being the one to engage the kiss, crashing into his lips, just as soft as you’d always imagined them to be.
Hungrily tying you arms around his neck in order to help deepen the passionate kiss, you felt his tongue slide along your bottom lip as if he was asking for you to open your mouth, to which you happily obliged.
His firm hands slid down your waist before stopping at your thighs, squeezing slightly into your plush flesh. Without breaking the kiss, you jumped into his arms with ease, wrapping your legs around his slim waist as he placed his hands on your ass, not an ounce of fear in you that he’d ever drop you.
Your hands found their way to his soft hair, instantly drawing out a soft moan from him, causing you to smile into the kiss.
“That’s what you like, huh?” You teased, pulling away from him order to get a look at his face.
“Shut up,” he chuckled before reconnecting your lips when you felt he began to walk in the direction of your bedroom.
Since rekindling your friendship, everything had moved at the speed of light. As it all had happened, you’d noticed the increased intimacy, both physically and mentally, but you hadn’t wanted to assume it was anything more than just a result of missing each other.
You’d experienced a new sensation of yearning for Satoru, one that had previously only passed you by in random split seconds which you’d always suppressed to the back of your mind. Never had you wanted to jeopardise your friendship for anything, especially for what you thought was just innocent lust that naturally washed over anyone that was in the close vicinity of Satoru.
But clearly you were wrong. Maybe there had always been a stronger desire to explore him in a different way that had just been buried because it seemed illegal. Not to forget the fact that it was being reciprocated, his strong hands exploring your body with an urgency you had never experienced with anyone before.
The meaningful and deep history only appeared to fuel the hunger you felt for one another, behaving as if neither of you had experienced the phenomenon of another person’s touch in a lifetime — and it was only specifically each other who could satisfy the need.
Still with a tight grip, he hesitatingly let you down, his hands sliding up your body to hoist your dress so it gathered around your lower abdomen. “This dress need to come off, baby,” he breathed into your mouth as he continued to pull it up your body.
You simply lifted your arms to let him twist the dress over your head, his eyes instantly locking to your perky tits as if they were calling his name. Before he had the chance to give into the temptation of fondling them, playing with your nipples, you tugged at the bottom of his sweater. No way you were going to stand in all your glory while his clothes served as a hindrance to your desire.
Again his alluring smirk greeted you, more than willingly pulling it over his head to reveal his chiselled torso, confirming your theory that he had gotten bulkier, because you would definitely have remembered if he looked like that before.
“Is this crazy?” You asked shakily after having removed your shoes and reaching for his belt buckle. Noticing the slight jitters hiding between your excitement, he snatched ahold of your chin to force you to look at his face.
“Not crazier than the fact that I should have done this ages ago.”
Pulling your face towards him, he had you standing on your tip toes in order to dedicate as much of yourself to the kiss as humanly possible.
Once the pants were off him, your hand found his chest, fighting the urge to dig your nails into his toned pecks, guiding him backwards to sit down on your bed. With glee you straddled him, embarrassment flushed your cheeks as a needy whimper just fell from your lips when his huge bulge ended up pressing against your clothed core, an amused eyebrow quirking up on Satoru’s face.
“Damn, calm down,” he teased, your nose scrunching up to conceal the playful smile that was taking over.
“Idiot.” Grabbing his face, you let your open mouth graze against his when one of his hands palmed your clothed pussy, pulling another moan from your lips.
Without warning, he pulled your black laced panties aside, his thumb rubbing small circles on your clit. You bit your lip to choke back yet another moan. Knowing Satoru, you knew he’d forever hold it against you — how he managed to withdraw those lewd sounds from you so easily.
“So wet for me already, sweetheart,” he panted, enjoying the view of your scrunched up face of pleasure. “Can’t wait to feel you around me.”
“‘Toru, I-“ you forced out when you felt him slip two lengthy digests inside you as he traced soft, little pecks along your collarbone that he had admired earlier. Hearing you barely able to utter his nickname mixed with the low squelching of your pussy, basically drenched already, was something he had only been able to imagine before. And god, was the real thing ten times better than his fantasy.
“Getting shy around me, pretty? That’s unlike you.” Again you wanted to roll your eyes at him, because he was even more cheeky when having you at his mercy than normal. But the consistent pressure on your sensitive nub along with the movement of his fingers were too much to even give that a try.
Fingertips clawing at his shoulders, slowly starting to rock your hips as you were being drawn closer and closer to the edge.
His smooth motion had you seeing stars behind your eyelids, the tingle of orgasm bubbling up inside you when he had you gasp in disappointment when you were deprived of his skilled touch.
Motherfucker.
“What-“ your eyes fluttered open in confusion before you were thrown off his lap, landing softly on your back, sinking into the mattress. Next thing, his boxers hit the floor, exposing his already rock hard dick. Eyeing the size, his cocky personality suddenly made a whole lot of sense.
Hovering over you, he swiftly tilted your head to the side to place a series of open mouthed kisses as he used his leg to spread your legs apart, setting himself up between them, feeling his tip slightly touch your entrance as it twitched.
“I need you,” it vibrated against your skin, one arm wrapping around his back in a desperate need to feel every inch of him, while the other traveled south to lace around his dick. It was your turn to draw sounds from him, a small, satisfied giggle ringing in his ear as a reaction to hearing his pathetic whimper.
“Sorry,” your giggle trailed off when he lifted his head to look down at you, the ghost of a smile on his face telling you he enjoyed the small banter during it all.
You gave him a few slow pumps, using your thumb to rub some of his precum across his tip, aligning him with the opening of your cunt as he punished you with a rough kiss on the lips.
That’s when you finally let go, your hand finding his back again to prepare yourself to be filled with his dick. He didn’t wait to slide into you with ease, gasping softly as you involuntarily clenched around his size, trying to get used to it.
“You okay?” He mumbled as he rested his forehead against yours. You only nodded before pulling him in for another kiss, reassuring him that you were alright and more than ready.
The line was officially crossed — no going back now. You could never go back to being just best friends, but maybe that was for the best, that maybe you’d always meant to be more. Every fibre of his being had for a long time ached to have you like this, spread out and desperate for him and only him.
At first he moved in a slow and sensual pace, wanting to be entirely sure you could take it. Eyeing your expression in awe, finally being able to be the one to make you grimace with pleasure.
“Wanted this for so long,” he murmured, being driven to lose all control hearing all your sweet whimpers, occasionally mumbling his name, which had him buck his hips faster and deeper, desperate to push you to climax.
Taking every inch of him over and over, stretching around him, he glanced down to get a look of the beautiful sight, his cock moving in and out, in and out, like you were made for him.
Your nails burrowed into his back before dragging down, too dazed in the bliss of Satoru’s cock stuffed in you to care about the red lines you knew you’d created, marking him as yours. Your toes curled as he kept feeding you horny affirmations and heartfelt compliments.
“Fuck fuck fuck, look at that.”
“God you’re so beautiful.”
“Taking me so good baby.”
“Fuck, should have done this ages ago. Look so pretty around me.”
“Hngh, ‘Toru,” you mewled. “I’m gonna c-cum,” you begged, squeezing your eyes shut and arching closer to him to chase your high.
“As you wish.” Something snapped in him, slamming into you at an unbearable speed, balls smacking your ass as he kept shoving into you. You tried to make out words to tell him you were about to reach your limit, but you were too fucked out to form anything coherent, just a string of cute sounds of pleasure leaving your pretty mouth. “Cum f’me.”
His simple command had you nearly scream as the sweet release washed over you, head pushing back into your pillow as he gave you the most intense orgasm you could remember. He fucked you through your high, feeling your body pressed against his until he too reached his climax, filling you with cum, a loud groan left him before his thrusts became lazy and sloppy.
He pulled out, collapsing on the bed beside you. You both turned to look at each other, instantly making eye contact. Whatever flashed between you caused you both to break into a calm laughter. Once it died down, your flipped to lay on your side and rested your chin on his shoulders.
“Should have known you’re quite a talker during sex, it adds up.”
“Is this complaining I hear?” He taunted, pinching his eyebrows together to challenge your statement. “Because the way you just moaned my name like a slut-“
“Okay, fine, I’ll sush,” you laughed before hiding your face in the crook of his neck in embarrassment. Carefully he nudged his shoulder to have you look at him again, needing to take in your flushed face after it all, eyes roaming every part of it. “So what happens now?” You breathed softly as your finger began to trace weak circles on his still damp chest.
Without thinking, he tilted your head up and placed an affectionate kiss on your forehead. “I know I don’t wanna waste anymore time not being with you.”
“We really screwed up there, huh?” As his secure arms wrapped around you to have you as close to him as possible, his chest vibrated with a low chuckle.
“Not my fault you were out and about, throwing your phone number at your customers.”
“Oh alright, if you wanna blame previous conquests, then there’s-“ he instantly placed his large hand over your mouth to muffle the list of girl names you could remember him being with.
“Still such a brat-“ you interrupted his insult by defending yourself the only way you could, sticking out your tongue to lick all over his palm. Before you even had the chance to understand what was going on, it backfired when he instantly rubbed his hand all over your face, smearing your spit.
“Satoru,” you squealed before you both fell into a fit of laughter again.
Well into the night, you just talked and laughed. Sharing every single moment from your friendship that might have been pent of feelings for each other, realising this was how it always should have been. Neither of you had to hold back on the affection or affirmation anymore in fear of jeopardising what you already had. If anything, the relation you already shared only seemed to further ignite what would come to be.
For the first time, you fell asleep in his arms, being his.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
You were twenty-seven years old when life was just perfect.
“But pretty please!” Nobara complained, hands pressed together in prayer, close to falling to her knees to beg you to do her this small favour. It earned her an offended frown from both her classmates standing on each side of her. “It’s a testosterone nightmare.”
Before you were able to give her any form of response, two lean arms came lurking around your waist to spin you around, drawing bubbly giggles from your lips.
“My god, Satoru, we’re at work!” You managed to force out between your joy, eventually feeling your feet planted safely on the ground again. He lazily rested his arm across your shoulders, towering over the group with a content smile on his face.
“Sorry, just got excited.” He placed a small peck on the crown of your head, sprinkling a tint of pretty pink on your cheeks.
Over and over you’d told him to keep his devotion to you on the down-low in public, especially in front of the students but he never managed to follow the simple request, having the two of you act like love sick teenagers. And as much as you pretended not to, you melted as much at his antics now as you did way back when, rarely putting up much of a fight to actually tone down his behaviour.
Looking at the three first years in front of you, both Nobara and Megumi had a hint of disgust at the sight of how mushy Satoru got with you, always having a desire to be in contact with you one way or another. Yuji, on the other hand, always admired the sheer transparency of the relationship.
“So what’d I miss?”
“Nobara want me to give her private lessons because she’s sick of you boys.”
“Young miss Kugisaki, dare I say I’m disappointed?” Satoru said, acting overly dramatic, sporting pinched eyebrows to have them believe he was actually hurt.
“Gojo-sensei, I have reason to believe I’ll learn even more having a female teacher,” she pouted.
“Ouch,” he breathed in response.
“You’ll tough it out,” you chuckled, a small thank you whispered from the tall man pressed against your side before you opened your mouth again. “I mean, think about how I have it. At least you’re only linked to him during school hours while I live with the guy. I can never catch a break-“
A grunt escaped you as the arm draped around you tensed up, pulling you into a strong headlock. Endless laughter leaving you as you so desperately tried to pull out of his grip but to to prevail, cheek smushed against his ribs.
“Can you guys believe it?” Satoru gasped before carefully pulling up his blindfolds slightly to reveal one of his eyes to look directly down at you. “My own wife?”
“‘Toru!” He just smiled down at you at the happy sounds from your beautiful mouth, also amused by your weak attempt to break free from his hold on you, messing up your hair as you desperately tried to pull your head back.
“You’re both insufferable,” Megumi rolled his eyes, just wanting to go on with his day.
“All I’ve done for you over the years, and still you find it in you to talk to me like that,” shaking his head in faux disappointment. You were finally able to pop your head out from his grip, not at all due to the fact that he intentionally loosened his hold on you a little. A low chuckle rumbling at the sight of your pouty lip hidden behind your bristly hair.
Pushing it out of your eyes, you clicked your tongue as you turned your attention to his students again. “Don’t listen to a word he says.”
“I’ll have you know, I’m their favourite teacher,” he said proudly, shoving his hands in his pockets, leaning forward a little to me on the same level as you.
“Isn’t much competition when you’re their only teacher.”
“You’re feisty today. Get up in the wrong side of the bed this morning?”
“No, I think it might have something to do with you hogging the covers all night.”
The bickering continued, bickering only possible to come from two people who’d been best friends for decades, eventually causing the three friends to walk away with either of you noticing.
“Wipe of that grin, sir, or you’re sleeping on the couch,” you threatened, nothing but pure amusement in your tone. His fingers found your face, squeezing your soft cheeks together, causing your sweet lips to stick forward looking more than inviting. A low giggle once again harboured deep in your throat, trying your best not to let them spill.
His face came closer — oh how he still managed to have the butterflies go crazy inside after all these years never seized to amaze you, feeling the alluring look through his blindfolds.
“We both know you’d come crawling into my arms after an a hour,” he teased, close enough to your puckered lips for you to feel his warm breath.
“Nuh uh-“ was all you were able to muffle out between his fingers.
“Damn, I love you,” he spoke softly before planting a kiss on your mouth, unable to hold back the smirk that grew when his grip changed to a tender cup of your cheek.
Sometimes it baffled you how you both managed to be so incredibly, deeply and stupidly in love with each other. You’d think after all those years with so much devotion and admiration shared, you would have grown tired of each other by now.
But you guessed it helped to be best friends with the person you’d chosen to be with for the rest of your life.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
a/n hehe this is long... this is basically a love letter to gojo after 261, where i had my heart absolutely shattered like most of us yk. ive been super motivated to write it tho so just last week i had 30 hours screentime on my notes app lol... now, ive said it before and ill say it again, i am NOT a smut writer (clearly). personally, thats the part here i like the least bc i just feel like i cant get it to flow naturally... besides that hope you guys like this
reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated
plagiarism not authorized
#— ଓ my creative corner#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#satoru imagine#satoru gojo imagine#satoru oneshot#satoru gojo oneshot#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu gojo#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jjk satoru#jjk satoru gojo#satoru gojo/reader#jjk imagine#jjk imagines#gojo satoru x reader#jjk oneshot#jujutsu kaisen onehsot#jujutsu kaisen imagines#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x y/n#jujutsu kaisen oneshot#gojo
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❝ 𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ! ❞
❝ I HEARD FROM A FRIEND OF A FRIEND, THAT DICK WAS A TEN OUT OF TEN !! ❞
✧ pairing: jjk au sorcerer! suguru geto x sorcerer! reader
✧ summary: geto's routine after a mission -- ingest the curses that he collects before his shower. but after he does, his body begins to burn and ache with lust to the point of pain -- and he can't get rid of the feeling alone. so what else can he do when you show up at his doorstep offering to help but accept it (aka a sex pollen / aphrodisiac curse fic).
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, jjk compliant au, geto stayed a sorcerer and didn't defect, reader is one year younger than geto, (set during jjk s1), aphrodisiac curse (sex pollen), multiple orgasms, multiple positions (missionary, doggy, riding, other positions mentioned: standing, against the wall, spooning from behind, against the wall), masturbation (m), soft dom! geto, oral (m +f), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, cervix fucking, panty stealing, squirting, mutual pining, a little angst (discussion of star vessel / premature death arc), but a lot of comfort, cuddling, gojo hijinks
✧ wc: 8,180
Suguru was only sure of one thing, as he stared at himself in the mirror — cheeks flushed red, sweat nearly soaking through his black t-shirt, and a painful and glaring problem in his boxers—
This was a curse — literally.
Curses were made up of different negative human emotions — from loneliness to grief to anger, these negative feelings would pool and create a curse. Sorcerers were made to exorcise these curses, and Suguru did so — but in a different way than the others. He had to consume them as part of his technique. And even with the hundreds of curses he’s swallowed over the years, he would never get used to the taste — a shit soaked rag used to clean up vomit was how he could best describe it, but even then, that didn’t come close to the indescribable act of swallowing the manifestation of the worst negative human emotions — at least for most of them.
The one he had swallowed today was different — he was sent to exorcise a grade 1 curse in the heart of Tokyo that dwelled in an abandoned building — from the inside, he could tell that it was used as a strip club and possibly a bathhouse-turned-brothel, from the seedy mattresses left behind with dirty sheets and mussed covers, with rusting incense burners placed around the room, and the gaudy, fake jewelry that laid strewn about the place — assumedly any real jewelry picked clean. He swore he could have even smelt the ever lingering scent of cheap perfume in the walls and vents.
But the greater concern was the curse he had found himself with — a grotesque creature that stared back at him — its body a deep maroon, many eyes dotting its back with a large pair of black lips that Suguru didn’t care to draw any closer to. It was more humanoid than most — its form showing a more sophistication than many curses did, muscles of its many arms contracted as it finally spotted Suguru, its many eyes settled their gaze on him.
It was far too easy for him to take down the curse in hindsight — far too easy — and it seemed to watch him summon curses — and he swore it almost had seen a glimmer of recognition in its eyes and then it allowed him to deal the final blow.
He had kept the curse on hand — he could swallow it later, when he was near a toilet and perhaps some mouthwash — though that barely did much to remove the taste from his mouth. He had returned to Jujutsu Tech to do his reports, and hopefully head back early — Satoru was out on another overseas mission and Shoko was busy tending to patients and bodies as always, but you—
He wasn’t sure what you were doing, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to text you. Not after what Satoru said.
“When are you guys gonna fuck already?” the strongest sorcerer asked, making Suguru choke on his Sprite — strong in ability, but not in tact, “you and her have been eye fucking for weeks and you had such a thing for her before she decided to move to Kyoto—”
“That was years ago—”
“She has a key to your apartment—“
“So do you!” he glares.
“Then what about last night at the bar?” Satoru leans back in his chair, lifting the front legs off the ground, as he pulled his sunglasses down, “you could have murdered the guy that was hitting on her with your look alone — and I think you did when you stuck yourself to her side with your arm around her waist, until he ran with his tail between his legs,”
If looks could kill, Suguru would have surely murdered his best friend — infinity be damned, “She looked uncomfortable, what was I going to do—”
“Well, she certainly didn’t look uncomfortable with you hanging all over her, now did she?” He raises an eyebrow, as he leans forward again, the front legs of his chair landing with a thunk, “what are you gonna do if a guy comes along that she falls for? You’re telling me you’re not gonna regret it, Suguru?” Suguru says nothing, unable to meet Satoru’s gaze, as Satoru crushes his own can into a ball, before tossing at Suguru, “You guys just got to hurry up and fuck,”
Suguru swats the crushed can away, “You’re disgusting,”
He grins, as his words seemingly only confirm what he assumes, “Disgusting, but correct, and if I’m right, you’re taking some of my missions off my hands,” he grins.
And Satoru’s words had been running around in Suguru’s head — just like any annoying song on the radio — but he couldn’t let Satoru’s words stop from hanging out with you. He had just gotten you back in his life again — he couldn’t lose you, not again.
Geto: Are you free to watch a movie and have takeout?
You: sounds good - did you get back from your mission alright? No injuries I need to yell at you about?
He snorts, as he types his reply: no, not this time.
You: Let’s keep it that way! :)
He bites back his smile as the two of you decide to have you head over in an hour to his place — you preferred it that way since you were still settling into your place, boxes still unwittingly everywhere there should be actual furniture. Last time he came by to pick a report up, he found you eating your meal on a packed box, instead of a table.
And he catches himself smiling, before his face sours at the thought of Satoru again.
Satoru was right — and he hated to admit it, his knuckles pressed to his lips. A year under him, you had spent days with him, along with everyone else — you always waited for him with his favorite snacks when he would return from a mission. You sat with him sometimes when he would get sick from swallowing curses, helping him swallow some water and saltines after he turned his stomach inside out. You were the one that pushed him when he hid his disillusionment from everyone else — even from Satoru. You wouldn’t leave him alone, you wouldn’t stop dogging his every step with snacks and comfort and company, hounding him to sleep, to eat, to say something, anything.
Until he did — one late night you spent up together — he didn’t sleep much those days anyway. And he told you everything — the poison seeping from his body, and leeching onto yours, your frown and hurt was the whole reason he hadn’t wanted to tell anyone to begin with. But the frown wasn’t yourself — it was for him, as your arms only curled around him, and he let you hold him the entire night.
“You don’t always have to pretend to be strong, Suguru. You’re allowed to be upset, you’re allowed to be angry, you’re allowed to grieve — but don’t bottle it up,” your fingers raked through his wet hair, undoing the tangles gently before running the comb through it, “don’t let it kill you from the inside out,”
“I feel like I did die — along with Amanai,” and you pause, your arms curled around his shoulders, chin resting on his head before you pinched his cheek and he flinched.
“There, you’re definitely not dead,” you say, “so don’t act like you are. And don’t act like you’re alone — because you’re not. You have me, you have Satoru and Shoko — even Nanami and—“ you voice cuts off at the thought of Haibara — “Haibara wouldn’t want you to hide from us, he looked up to you — more than anyone else, even Satoru,”
“I don’t know why,” he mutters with a sigh.
“I do,” your fingers guide his face to meet your gaze, your face an inch or two from his, “because you’re kind, you’re intelligent, and you’re strong,”
He scoffs, “Satoru is the strongest,”
“And you think Satoru thinks any differently of you? That any of us feel differently? You’re the only person who can understand him — and he’s the only one who understands you,”
He gives a small chuckle, “not the only one,” and he tears his eyes away, hoping you don’t see the way his cheeks burned.
And when he found those two sorcerer girls locked up — you were the one who called. The rage and anger had built into murderous intent, but he could hear your words ringing in his ears and before he knew it, he had called you to come to him.
You saved them together — Nanako and Mimiko had fallen asleep in your respective laps after all was said and done on the ride back — without much bloodshed (not that the blood that was shed was worth much, in his opinion) — and with Gojo and you smoothing things over with the higher ups (mostly with veiled threats and petty remarks), you managed to allow the twins to grow up safe, under Geto’s care, and your own.
At least for a time. After you graduated, Nanami left — and you were the only one of your class left — and the absence of your best friends weighed on you, even if you didn’t show it.
“I’m leaving for Kyoto,” you told him one afternoon the two of you spent lazing around his dorm, you sat against the bottom of his bed, as he lounged on the mattress, his gaze snapping to you, only able to see the back of your head, “this place holds too many memories — i need perspective, I need space from all of this,”
He wants to ask if you have to, ask you if he could convince you to stay, if he could do something, anything to make you stay — ask if he wasn’t enough to make you stay. But he doesn’t, because it’s the best decision for you. So he instead slips off the bed, sitting beside you, his hand ruffling your hair, “You’ll come to visit right?”
He knows you’re blinking back tears, but he pretends not to notice, your lip quivering, and god, he knows he wants nothing more than to tilt your gaze toward him by your chin and brush his lips against yours, until every sad thought has evaporated under his touch.
But he knows that would only be one more thought that would make things far more difficult — for the both of you. It was better this way. And it was. Years had passed, the two of you had become teachers at the Tokyo and Kyoto schools respectively — but as the years had passed, your relationship grew more distant, as it always seemed to with time and distance.
But then you decided to come back to Tokyo, transferred over — Yaga explaining it was due to all the happenings in Tokyo with the special grades and emergence of Yuji as Sukuna’s vessel — and he found himself in your presence again. And it was as if no time had passed — your days off spent in his apartment — as yours had become a haven of unpacked boxes. And he couldn’t help but wonder — when he’d glance at you in the dark of his living room, the only illumination was the TV that played some shitty horror movie (your words not his) you had put on — if the special grades were the only reason you’d come back. Your fingers were so close to each other’s on the couch, but an inch felt like a ravine.
One he couldn’t dare to cross.
But It was fine, just as he told Satoru — you were just friends, until both of you decided otherwise. Not that it would ever happen — no, he thought that ship had sailed, even if his heart had stubbornly said that it hadn’t.
Until he decided to consume the curse — and his heart was no longer the problem.
Or at least, not his main problem.
He sat in his bathroom, towel in the shower rack, ready to shower after he dealt with this. He had discarded his uniform jacket and pants — only in a black t-shirt and boxers. He stood by the toilet — as he learned his lesson the first few months swallowing curses — he never knows when one will turn his stomach inside out.
He holds the balled curse in his palm — he could feel it squirm just underneath of his cursed energy — the thing keeping it contained at all, itching to be freed from his grasp — though it never would. He pressed the ball to his lips, bracing himself as he opened his mouth, nearly having to unhinge his jaw for how large this curse was and pressing it past his lips and into his mouth. His palms pressed against his mouth, as he swallowed, eyes squeezed shut.
It…wasn’t as bad as he thought. He frowned, brow knit as he stared at his empty palm — it was still appalling to consume, but it was….sweet? But it burned as it went down, heat remaining in the pit of his stomach, even as it should have faded.
That should have been his first clue.
Either way, he turned on the shower before he shed the rest of his clothes, and stepped in. The water felt warmer than usual, as he washed his body first, letting his hair grow wet under the shower head. His fingers reached for the shower handle, turning it even colder, but his body barely reacted to the water — was it even cold?
Even under the water, he felt like his body was burning — a slow fire that lingered under the surface of his skin, burning and aching, the frigid water barely doing enough to soothe it. Running his hands over his body seemingly helped, a shiver running down his spine as he washed himself, but he knew it would have felt even better if it was you.
….what? He tried to shake that thought from his head — it wasn’t the first time he had thought of you like this. There were many times where his mind would drift to you at night, the warmth of your touch from a few hours ago still lingered, as his hard-on pleaded for his touch. Guilty gnawed at his conscious when he indulged, the first time being after a particularly vivid dream of you pinning him down while training — your mouth kissing down his body, eager fingers tugging at his shorts until that smirk met—
This wasn’t helping.
The burning had traveled southward, as his blood did, and he glanced down at his raging hard-on.
Fuck.
No, he couldn’t.
But his fingers were possessed, already reaching for his aching cock, large beads of pre-cum leaving his slit just as hand closed around it. He hisses when he does, a gasp ripped from his throat, as he braces himself against the shower wall with his other hand.
He palms his erection, swallowing thickly, as he grunts, as he begins to pump his cock from base to tip, smearing his pre along his length. But his mind wanders to you, how pretty you’d look pressed against the wall of his shower, his hard cock dragging between your ass. Lovely moans parting your lips as his fingers would reach around to rub at your puffy clit.
“Suguru, please—“
“Tell me what you want baby, gotta use your words,” he’d murmur, teasing your slick entrance with the tip of his cock.
“Need your cock — need you to fuck me,” you would whine, words nearly enough to make him bust there and then. And he would sink into you just as he does his fist, but your sweet cunt would feel so much better than his hand does.
Fucking wet and tight and just for him, as he works his dick deeper and deeper, until his tip is nudging your cervix. And he’d fuck you hard, just like he’s fucking his fist now, skin slapping each time his hips met your ass.
You’d cum before he would, he would make sure of it — one hand rubbing harshly at your clit, the other toying with one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. And your walls would squeeze and wring him dry, just as he squeezed his own dick now.
He spilled all over the wall of his shower, white spurts kept coming, as he grunted, imagining he was painting your walls instead. He panted, but as the afterglow ebbed away, the heat only came back tenfold.
He panted, as his fingers left his cock, only to find it still hard — the tip red and angry, twitching as he stared back at it.
What the fuck is going on?
He finally left the shower, pulling on his shirt and boxers delicately — every inch of his body felt feverish and sensitive, even the rubbing of his clothes against his skin was almost too much for him.
He stood in front of the sink, knuckles white against the porcelain as he tried to will his erection away, but each thought was only chased away with thoughts of you — of the dress you loved to wear riding up, of your legs spreading for him, of the wet patch on your panties—
He was so fucked. Sweat dripped into the sink, as he glanced at himself in the mirror — skin a ruddy red flush, lips impossibly dry, pupils blown out with need — he was so fucked.
He called Shoko — the embarrassment of this situation far gone at this point fading into plain need of wanting this situation to be over. One ring, two rings — finally five rings and she picks up.
“It’s not like you to call—“
“I need your help,” he cuts her off, biting back the groan from his cock rubbing against his boxers the wrong way — “I don’t know what’s happening to me,”
Her voice shifts from curiosity to concern, “Slow down, Suguru, tell me what’s going on,” and he tells her his symptoms — and she’s silent on the other line for a moment, “you have been a teenage boy before right? You’re not really calling me because you’re horny and you don’t know what to do—“
“It’s not that—“ he hisses, running a slow hand down his face, “I already tried…solving the problem myself but it didn’t work. And I feel weird — it only made it worse. I can’t stop sweating or thinking about—“ he cuts off — he couldn’t stop lewd thoughts of you from springing before his eyes, the thoughts of your moans, how soft your flesh would be under his fingers, how you’d look when he— “what is this, Shoko?”
She pauses on the line for a moment, “When did it start?”
“Right before my shower I think,” his mind foggy with need, he could barely even comprehend a coherent thought.
“And what did you do before your shower? Anything different?” he’s swallowing the lump in his throat, as he resists the urge to brush his hand over his hard-on.
He’s barely hearing Shoko at this point — “I took off my clothes, I got my towel, and then I—“ and the realization struck him — the curse, “I consumed the curse I collected today from my mission,” he mutters, “fuck—“
And then there’s a knock at the door, “Suguru?” He heard you call through the door. His dick throbs at the sound of your voice.
Shoko’s voice cuts through the white noise, “Suguru, the curse you ate — was there something different about it?”
“It was a grade one — it seemed a little too easy to defeat — it formed in—“ he swallows thickly, “in a brothel,”
“I’ve heard of curses being lustful, but not of them becoming a stimulant,” she murmurs, and he can hear her sigh, “you could try extracting the curse from your body — I doubt that would be effective at this point. I assume the effects will linger until the symptoms pass — just as it does when you become nauseous or sick from swallowing other curses,”
His phone buzzed with texts from you:
You: I’m outside, I grabbed takeout for us this time since you always treat me!
You: are you home?
His mind swam, it wasn’t the takeout he was craving — it was you. But no, no — he couldn’t. Not like this, but he was fighting a losing battle and he just about lost the war along with it.
“I don’t know, how do I get it to pass?” he was desperate, the sounds of your knocks and messages ringing in his ear, along with your sweet voice — why do you sound so good with his name on your lips? So sweet — his boxers grow even tighter — bet you even taste even sweeter.
“If dealing with it yourself didn’t work, then,” she sighs, “you’re going to need a partner,”
Another knock.
“Shoko, I have to go,” and he hangs up before she can get another word — a thought to thank her and apologize shoved to the back of his mind, as he stumbles to his door, a thunk as he nearly tumbled into it, wood and hinges groaning under the force and weight.
“Suguru?” you’re so worried yet his name on your tongue was nearly enough to have him cumming in his boxers then, the wet patch of his boxers nearly making the fabric translucent, “are you okay?”
He says your name, “You should go home, I’m not feeling well—“
“What’s wrong? Do you need help?” And he’s biting his lip, teeth digging into his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood, “let me in,”
“I can’t—I can’t let you help with this,” he’s shaking his head, “please, sweetheart, you have to go—“ And he hears the clink of your key going into the door — fuck, that goddamn key he gave you, and the door pulls open, just as he braces himself against the doorframe.
Your brow furrowed in concern, takeout bag in hand, as your eyes examined him, until they found their way to his boxers.
“Suguru—“
“You should leave — I can’t explain, there’s a curse inside me—“
Your eyebrows knit together, “Suguru, a curse did this to you? What happened?” And he’s shaking his head, mind far too gone, as he forces himself away, “let me help—“
“You can’t help. I have to get out of my system but the only way is—“ he cuts off, as he groans again, body and mind railing against each other, as his body just seemingly burns from even being near you.
“There must be something—“ and you step closer, and he can barely hold back from grabbing you, fingers twitching to wrap around your waist, the other holding your neck, lips finding yours, as he fucking rips his own clothes off— “I want to help—“
He’s tugging at the collar of his shirt incessantly, as you step closer, closing the gap between your bodies, and he can only focus on the way your pretty lips part, the way your chest curves under your shirt, and the far too short shorts you choose to wear — fuck.
He was so fucked.
He can’t hold back, as he’s drawing close to you in a moment, his mind clouded with lust, the hitch of your breath only making him want you more — but he forced every muscle in his body to stop. He couldn’t. Not until you agreed.
“If you don’t want me to fuck you right now,” he says lowly, his lips nearly brushing your ear, “I want you — regardless of this, I’ve wanted you for so long,” the confession tumbles from his lips because he needs you to know, needs you know so you can either leave him to his fate or help him get through this, “but if you don’t feel the same—“
But to his surprise, you lean closer, breath warming his skin until it was left scalding, “who said I didn’t?”
And he can’t hold back.
His lips crash to yours, his hands holding your cheeks, as he grasps desperately to you, takeout boxes spilling from the plastic bag and your purse spilling your things when you drop it, your fingers grasping at his damp t-shirt.
And your touch alone even through the fabric is nearly enough to make him bust a nut there and then — and his mind hadn’t even felt so clear until he felt your touch. He could notice every little detail about you — the way your breath caught when his fingers ghosted down your sides, the way your lips parted for his tongue without hesitation, and the way your knees shook when he squeezed your hips.
“So pliant for me,” he murmurs, eager to touch more, to taste more, “such a good fucking girl, aren’t you?”
And you’re nodding wordlessly — lips kiss ruined and red, saliva clinging to your lips when he parted from your lips — and he wonders which one of you swallowed a glorified sex curse.
“Know how long I wanted to do this?” words said pressed with heated kisses down your neck — he was right, you tasted so sweet, he bet another part of you tasted even sweeter — “how many times I thought about this?” He nibbled at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, rewarded with a pretty gasp, “wanted to mark you up so many times — when that fucker tried to hit on you — I wanted to do more than just wrap my arm around you. Wanted to show him how he could never please you,” and he’s sucking a mark there, teeth grazing and pinching your skin before he soothes it with his tongue. He smiles against your skin, as he admires his handiwork.
You whine when he drags a thumb down your puffy lips, “Sugu, please, more,” and his lips find yours again, swallowing your complaints and moans eagerly, as his large palms slide down your back to rest on your ass, squeezing as he presses you flush to his body, hard on pressed against your body.
“Need my touch that much, Princess? Should’ve just fucked you in that club, huh? Let them see that you’re mine,” And he’s walking you backwards towards his room, as he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the floor of his living room. Your fingers running over his exposed flesh, thumbs teasing his sensitive nipples, pretty little lips pressing teasing kisses to both sides.
Fuck, the need to bury his cock in you grew by the second. But he wanted to feel good first — been waiting too long. He had all night to fuck you — but he only had one time to do it right the first time.
He’s walking you into the edge of his bed, as you both tumble onto the bed, his hands sliding under your shirt, tugging at the hem, and you help him take it off — and he hissed at the sight of nothing underneath.
“Were you always coming to my place with no bra on?” his lips curl, as your eyes look away, embarrassment painted on your expression, “wanted this as long as I did, Princess? Don’t get so shy now — you’re the one who insisted on helping me, so aren’t you going to fulfill your promise?” His lips brush against your earlobe, lips wrapping around it and sucking lightly.
You shiver, biting your lip, before you’re tugging him fully onto the bed, before slinking off of it and onto your knees for him, “Then let me help you,”
When your fingers toy with the elastic of his boxers, he’s ready to cum right there — he’s so sensitive still, he’s sure he won’t last long, but fuck, he doesn’t care with how pretty you look between his legs.
“Don’t be a tease, Princess, or I’ll pay you back later,” but your lips only curl, as you lean forward and press a kiss through the drenched fabric, tip of your tongue teasing his slit through his boxers.
“Oh I expect you to,” and you’re pulling his boxers down painfully slowly, letting the fabric of his boxers rub against his hard-on teasingly, a low hiss leaving the thin line of his lips, his balls aching with his release as his cock slaps against his stomach, “fuck, Sugu,” you murmur in almost reverence — he was thick, the tip flushed red with lovely beads of pre-cum already dripping down his length, your fingers already eager to trace those pretty veins, and feel the slight curve of his cock in your aching cunt, “how am I gonna fit you all in me?”
And his cock twitches at your words, as you pity him with a chaste kiss to the top, “Please,” he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, fingers knuckles white as they fisted the now creased sheets, “fuck—“ as you blow air along his length, “I’ll cum all over your face at this rate,”
“Oh I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Sugu?” your point finger lightly follows the trail of his vein, as your lips continue to press butterfly kisses along his length, “paint my face with your cum,”
And his fingers thread themselves in your hair, pressing his length to your lips, and you smirk, looking up at him with half lidded gaze, as your lips part and his length slides in — that’s all it takes.
The coil in his stomach snaps, as he cums down your throat, hot seed spilling into your mouth, as his hips jerk against your mouth, his groans of your name sending a hot stripe of heat down to your cunt.
Despite that, his cock only seems to grow larger, twitching against your tongue, as you part for a moment, a trail of saliva and cum dripping from your lips, “Taste so good, Sugu — gotta have you one more time—“ you envelop him with your lips again — and he’s a mess of moans, head thrown back, thick haze of lust as his eyes finally meet yours. You swallow around him, tongue wrapped around his length, as your sinful fingers touch whatever can’t fit in your mouth.
“S’good baby, should’ve fucked this mouth a long time ago,” and he’s gone, as his hips begin to slowly roll against you, watching as you don’t resist, the tip of his cock brushing against your throat, “good fucking girl, never gonna go a day without these lips around my cock,” and god, he’s so close — twitching in your mouth, but what sends him over the edge is when he feels you moan, and spots your hand down your shorts.
Fuck, he’s pulling out, “can I—“ and you pump him in response, a grunt of your name as you let him cum all over your face and chest, the sight enough to make him hard all over again — his thick release slipping down your lips, as your tongue darts out to taste it again.
And he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, tasting his own cum on your lips, before grabbing his discarded shirt to clean you off. His hand grabs your wrist and eases it from inside your cunt, tongue darting out to lick the release from your fingers, cleaning each of them.
In an instant, he’s got you spread on his bed, legs parted for him, “where’s that attitude now, pretty?” And his lithe fingers sneak under the elastic of your panties and snaps it against your skin, making you squirm, “seems like all those words fell out of your head just from sucking my cock,”
He’s slowly dragging your underwear down, before pulling at his bedside drawer to stuff your panties in, “for later use,” and you can’t managed a reply before his lips are pressing butterfly kisses up your thighs, before his teeth graze the soft flesh of your inner thigh, drawing a gasp from your lips, before sucking and soothing it with his tongue, “mine, all mine,” he’s already hard again — the feel of your soft skin under his lips was enough to have him cumming again like a virgin — the burning in the pit of his stomach only burned brighter for you — god, would he ever work his way out of this state? But as his gaze was met with your lovely dripping cunt with your puffy clit begging him for attention, he couldn’t seem to care.
You hiss when his fingers slowly spread your folds, “So fucking tight, baby, how am I gonna fit in you?” he clicks his tongue, inhaling, as his nose brushes against your clit, making your hips jump, “patience, gotta take my time with this princess cunt, gotta make sure you’re ready for me,” his dick twitching at his next sentence, “because I sink my cock in here, we’re not stopping at one round,”
Your cunt squeezes around nothing at his words, his breath warming your sensitive pussy, until he finally drags a stripe up your needy folds.
“Sugu, fuck,” his arms brace your thighs and hips down, as the tip of his tongue drags teasing circles around your clit, your slick gathering on his tongue, as he tastes it with a groan.
“Fucking, the best thing I’ve tasted,” and as much as he wants to bury his dick in you, he could live with his face between your thighs, “so perfect f’me,” and his tongue trails in tight circles around your clit, while his finger toys with your entrance, gathering your pre on his finger, teasing your entrance and delighting in the way your breath hitches.
He looks up at your face between half lidded eyes, you’re too fucking pretty — your hair a mess from, a sheen of sweat on your body, the lovely way your nipples were erect, and your eyes — pupils lost to lust and need. And all for him.
Fuck, he knows he won’t last long at this rate, he can already feel the urge to palm his raging cock, but he wants you to cum first, and he’s sinking a finger into your sweet cunt. He can almost imagine how your walls would feel fluttering around his cock — but he doubts his engorged tip would be even fit right now.
No, he needed to make this good for you — he slowly starts to finger fuck you as his tongue circles your clit in tighter circles, even sucking on it, and by the way your fingers grasped at the sheets, crumpling under your touch — you liked it.
Pretty moans left your lips, as your fingers found their way to his dark locks, still slightly damp from his shower — as he added a second finger inside. His name said between pants, as his fingers drag against your molten insides — the wet squelch rang in his ears as he fucked your cunt open. Knuckle deep in your sweet pussy, he knows he’s addicted — to the feeling of your molasses insides — warm and soft for him, his digits curling against your walls, looking for that one place that would make you fall apart.
“Sugu, please, please ‘m close—,” and he knows you need a little more, and he’s obliging with a chuckle, a third finger joining the other two, and he’s fucking you in earnest now — lips closing around your clit and sucking mercilessly, as his fingers find that spongy spot that has you seeing stars. Your back arches, as your nails dig into his scalp, as you cum around his fingers — walls fluttering as he eats you out through your high, his name leaving your lips again and again, as you slowly come down from your high, thighs twitching and chest heaving as you do.
As he finally pulls away, his chin and mouth glossy and drenched in a mixture of your cum and his spit — that he licks clean from where his tongue can reach, fingers collecting the rest, as he looks at your sticky cum gathered on his fingers.
Fuck, he could live in your cunt. Your sweet taste was the only thing he’d crave now after consuming curses — he wondered if you’d let him eat you out for hours after the curses he ate — he was sure your taste was the only thing that would erase that disgusting like nothing else ever would.
He’s giving you soft kisses after, dotting them up your body, murmuring praises, but you’re pulling him into a kiss, your fingers resting against the back of his neck, as your other hand finds his aching erection, swallowing his gasp with pleasure.
“Want you, Sugu, please,” and your words are enough to make him cum right there, as he tugs your hand away, “Sugu—”
“Won’t last long if you keep touching me and whining like that, Princess,” the heat only seems to lick at his skin like flames, engulfing him with every touch, and his cock was the epicenter of the wildfire, while you were the fuel that only made it consume you both to ash, “but I know it won’t be long until I’m fucking you again anyway,” Your cunt throbs at his words, as he draws close, dragging his weeping tip against your folds, watching his pre-cum smear against your slick with a grunt, “feels like you’re already trying to swallow me up, princess — you want this cock that bad?” fuck, he can’t hold back anymore, as he’s lining up himself up, and he’s sliding right into you with a groan, “know how long been waiting to do that?” his skin meeting yours as he bottoms out deliciously, stretching your walls out with his girth, pleasure ripping up your spine, “wanted to do this since the moment you walked through the door, but needed to do this right — when nothing about this was right,” he had so many things to say, while your mind had left you with not even a syllable, his cock twitched and pulsed inside your walls, dragging against it deliciously, “wish our first time wasn’t like this — but I’m so glad it’s finally happened, sweetheart,”
And you can’t help but smile up at him, lips parted with a small moan, as tears burned at your eyes from his size, “Me too, Sugu, wanted you for so long, needed you—” and he’s kissing your tears and words away with his lips,
Then he begins to fuck you — hard, the slapping of your skin and the wet squelch of your sex filling up most of the silence of the room, while both of your moans and grunts took up the rest. Your cunt was heaven to him — warm, wet walls wrapped around his aching cock — the slightest bit of relief was overcome with waves and waves of need — he needed to fuck you, needed to make you cum, needed to cum inside — he just needed you.
“S’big, Sugu, too big,” you whine, he was almost too much for you, the way his dick fucked places you only could imagine reaching, as his mouth leaned down to take a pert nipple between his lips — sucking and licking, as he couldn’t have enough of you, while his hand toyed with the other, “feels too good,”
“I know baby, gonna fuck your princess cunt so good — make sure its made just for me,” he’s murmuring, as his teeth graze your tit, as he pistons into you again and again, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix with each thrust, “all mine, baby, fuck — such a good girl for me,” and the praise has you keening against him, the knowing flutter of your cunt that tells him you’re all too close to the edge, as his hand reaches between your bodies to rub at your clit, “cum for me, pretty, need to feel your pretty little cunt squeeze me,”
And you do, falling apart as he fucks you through your orgasm, again and again — fuck, you felt so good, as he watched his cock slip in and out of you, a white ring of your release forming around his base. He’s fucking close too — can feel his balls tense, eager to blow his load, “where—”
You’re still moaning, eyes blown out in pleasure, as you watch him fuck you again and again, “Inside, Sugu, fill me up,” and that’s it, he’s gone — spurting his hot release, painting your walls, as he does, fucking it inside you — deeper, deeper, until he stills for a moment. And you’re twitching, eyes fluttering shut, when he pulls out, a groan parting his lips as he watches his seed spill from your cunt.
But then silence for several moments, the soft pants of your breathing only, before you hear him swearing and grunting, as your eyes open, and your pussy twitches at the sight before you. Suguru’s hand slid up and down his still erect cock, his eyes squeezed shut, as he groaned, “Suguru—”
“Wasn’t enough, need more,” he’s shaking his head, as his fingers squeeze around the base of his cock, “thought it would be enough to cum with you, but I can still feel it—” and he’s groaning, as you sit up, watching your mixed releases drip from you, “baby—”
And your lips kiss the tip of his weeping cock, “I told I’d help you,” and you ease his hand away, as you lick up his length, your eyes fixed on his, “just because we fucked, doesn’t mean we’re done,”
And in a moment, he’s got you flipped onto your hands and knees, as his cock slaps against your ass, his fingers squeezing the flesh, as he leans over to kiss your back, “Then I guess we’re gonna be up all night, sweetheart, because if you’re okay with this — I don’t think I’ll be satisfied with just a blowjob,” his tip drags against your messy cunt, “gonna need something a little tighter than your mouth,” and he’s sinking his thick cock into you again, balls slapping against your ass as he begins to fuck you, “better cancel any plans you have, pretty — because we’re not leaving this bed for a while.”
“Don’t fall asleep on me, baby,” his fingers grab your chin, and force you to meet his gaze, as he fucks into you, as you sit on his lap, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, “almost gonna cum, and don’t want you to be asleep for it,”
How many times had you fucked? You had lost count — but you knew you had done it in far too many positions — on your hands and knees, standing up, against the wall, from behind with his hand gripping your leg up, and far too many others — and now you were spread in his lap, cock deep in your pulsing pussy, his lips kissing your neck, as he fucked into you, his dick reaching a deeper angle from this position, easily able to hit the furthest parts of you.
He had cum in you more than you thought was humanly possible — and you supposed it wasn’t — it was only the curse that enabled this — it was animalistic even, the way he rutted into you desperately. He grabbed a water bottle only to take a swig, and find your lips again, forcing you to swallow the water.
“Good girl,” he’s grunting, his hips beginning to stutter, “I’m close baby, are you?” You hadn’t thought it was still possible to feel pleasure at this point, but it was — his cock dragged against your walls, his dark gaze finding yours, “tell me you wanna cum,” and your pussy twitches at his order, “use your words, pretty, or have I fucked them all out?”
“Please, Suguru, I wanna cum on your cock,” and you’re so fucking close again — the all too familiar knot in your stomach ready to snap any moment.
“Fuck, greedy pussy hasn’t enough of me? We’ve been fucking until the daylight now,” as his hand grabs your chin to make you see the first rays of light peaking over the horizon, and he’s making you bounce on him with each thrust of his dick — your orgasm building and building with every brush of his tip against your g-spot, “fuck, s’good for me, baby — been so good — just need one more and we can stop,” and tears stream down your cheek that only make him groan, his lips finding yours in a messy, sloppy kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth right as his cock hits at the deepest part of you—
And you squirt all over him, drenching his cock and lap as you cum, your lips parting from him, as your head is thrown back, boneless, as he fucks into you, your spasming walls pulling him over the edge as he paints your insides with his release, fucking it into you, until he finally slows, your body draped on his, head resting on his shoulder. Bodies sticky with sweat and cum, his cock finally softens inside you, the heat finally beginning to dull, as he presses soft kisses and gentle caresses to every inch of your skin, as he lays you down carefully, pulling himself from you.
“Thank you, princess, thank you,” and you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck, soft breaths cooling the sheen of sweat on his skin, “did so good for me,” and he slowly rises, grabbing his shirt and running it under water to clean you off, if only a little.
You’re already half asleep, eyes only fluttering half open to watch him, and he can’t help but bite his lip, “Sugu?”
“Yes, princess?” And you nod, fingers twitching for him, and his lips curl as he obliges, wrapping you up in his body, “know it was rough on you baby, I’ll make it up to you — don’t worry, just rest,” he grabs a water bottle, and lifts your head ever so slightly and helps you drink some water.
“I know you want to ask me something,” and he pauses, as he pulls the bottle away, “I can see the gears grinding in your head — you can ask me anything, y’know,” you had quite the way of embarrassing him, didn’t you?
“I know, I just,” he swallowed, “was there any other reason you came back to Tokyo, aside from the threats, did you come back for anything else?”
And your lips curl, raising an eyebrow knowingly, “Anything or anyone you mean?” and you chuckle when his eyes can’t meet yours, your fingers finding his again, “baby,” and your hand brushes against his cheek, tracing the cut of his jaw, making his breath catch, “I did come back for someone — a very particular someone,” and he smiles, as your lips lean up to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “and my friends, of course,” you add, “I love Utahime, but I missed Shoko and Satoru, and you,”
“You did?” he murmurs, and you giggle, kissing him again, melting into his touch again, as your foreheads brushed against the other’s, “Sugu?” and it’s your turn to ask something now, chewing on your bottom lip, “can we do this again?” you murmur, before adding, “not like this but—“
And he laughs, pulling you impossibly closer, lips finding your leaping pulse, “Yes, we can, if you want to — because I know I do, because,” his thumb brushing the length of your cheek, “but I want all of you — want your body, your thoughts, your time, your heart and soul—“ and his lips quirk at the sight of your eyes widening ever so slightly, “is that okay?”
And your lips find his own as an answer, sweet kisses turn languid, heat stealing any doubts from either of your minds, “As long I have yours as well,” and the two of you share only a few more kisses, before you both finally drift off.
“If he’s fine, and I’m checking on him, I’m kicking his ass,” Satoru grumbled, as he held his phone between his cheek and his shoulder, Shoko sighing as he rooted through his pockets for his keys.
Shoko chewed her lip, she hadn’t heard from him in hours, “He was in bad shape, I can't find the time to go check and you were on your way home anyway,” Shoko says, wiping her brow, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers.
“Yeah, on my way home back from a mission,” he finally finds his keys, sticking Suguru’s spare key into the lock and turning it, “If I have jet lag, and all I find is him jerked off and sleeping, you owe me,”
He twists the knob, and looks — he doesn’t see Suguru in the living room or kitchen — but he does see takeout containers spilled on the floor, along with a very familiar bag, and he blinks, before his lips curl. He asks if she’s heard from you, to which she says no,
He walks silently to Suguru’s bedroom, opening the door a crack to see you and Suguru curled up against each other, your head on his chest, his arm wrapped around you, the comforter strewn about and covering the rest of your bodies.
Satoru only grins, before he pulls his phone from his ear and switches to the camera.
“Never mind, Shoko, I owe you one,” and he snaps a picture of the two of you, wondering how many missions he could pawn off to Suguru now, “I’ll treat you to lunch.”
✧ a/n: so this turned out way longer than i thought (story of my life). i had so much fun writing this - i've been writing this in conjunction with prof geto part 3 and its been funny darting back and forth between these two -- although the scenes i've been writing
✧ taglist: @peachyminx, @garfunklefield, @unicornqueen05, @hiyori-ii, @equikaz, @unoriginalidea, @forest-fruits-jam, @torusinfinity, @hellkaiserinphoenix, @loonimae, @gojoedd, @sugurufic, @glaceliy, @telvess, @kentocalls, @nayasch, @iluvvreze, @yamaguccitadashi, @faeismism, @hanxyy, @catsgomurp, @sukaibg, @sugurusdiscordmoderator, @gojorgeous, @getos-slvtt, @sirencholia, @teatreeoilll, @dewdropdive, @appysauc, @kobycetacean, @missroki, @fushitoru, @pricetagofficial, @that-goth-bisexual, @shoyosdoll, @regrettinglifechoices, @mostinsanegirl, @roseybean, @fayyyrieee, @gojobbg, @strangehuman101, @saccharine-nectarine, @i-belong-in-a-retirement-home, @spider-fan72
#sab [mlist]#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru smut#geto x reader#geto smut#suguru geto smut#geto suguru x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#geto x you#jjk x you
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