#anyways might write this proper oooh what do we think

[fifthnailinstevesbat]

thinking of a new steddie fic/au hmmm.

It’s just the classic, Steve buys weed from Eddie in season 1 era, he and Tommy meet him at the bench in the woods behind school. Steve and Eddie have some playful banter and clearly get along, but it’s dismissed as just a drug deal and they go on about their lives.

Next time they meet is when a frantic Steve comes and finds Eddie after he’s just fought off the demogorgon for the first time. He’s rattled, and skittish, wearing a nasty black bruise on his eye, and just overall not acting like himself. He snaps at Eddie multiple times to just ‘hurry up’ and ‘get him his stuff’, and sure he’s being an asshole, but more than anything Eddie is just concerned. He has never seen The King Steve Harrington lose his cool like this. So Eddie cautiously gives him the weed, making sure not to give too much, and lets him go about his day, but not before asking if he’s alright. Steve clearly wasn’t expecting this and brushes it off defensively, but that doesn’t mean he’s not thinking about it for the rest of his week. How the hell did Eddie Munson notice something was wrong, when his own parents didn’t? Nor his “friends”?

They cross paths again a year later, the beginning of season two. Steve is still with Nancy and has freshly dumped his old douchebag crew of superficial friends. He is still sitting quite comfortably on the higher ranks of popularity, but there is no denying his status is not what it used to be. He comes to buy weed from Eddie in the first week back at school, and it’s a casual interaction. He’s still as charmingly stuck up as he ever was, but now without Tommy there to judge his every move, he seems a little more at ease when making casual conversation with Eddie. Eddie doesn’t mention the year before and Steve is so glad for it, secretly very embarrassed that he went to Eddie for some refuge after arguably his most traumatic experience to date. He gets his stuff, giving Eddie a smirk when he notices he’s dropped the price significantly for Steve when it’s just him alone. Eddie gives him a challenging smile back, almost daring him to call it out, but he doesn’t. They both just laugh and part ways.

The next run in is tina’s halloween party. They notice eachother when Steve first arrives, making eye contact and giving a polite nod. Maybe Eddie lifts his drink up to Steve in a silly salute. They don’t speak at all or make any effort to hang around eachother. That is, until Steve storms down the stairs in a rage after he’d gone up there with Nancy Wheeler. But then are those- tears? Eddie was standing on the front porch smoking a cigarette, trying to discreetly hide from one Billy Hargrove to avoid having to sell him anything, but staying visible enough that he won’t lose all chances of making any money tonight. Steve storms right past him and hits his shoulder. Eddie whips around and is about to call him a dick before he sees who it is.

Steve tries to quickly wipe his face, he won’t make eye contact with Eddie, and he’s clearly trying to get out as fast as he can. Eddie doesn’t let him, though, since he’s obviously not thinking very clearly and is most likely about to do something emotional and stupid. He asks if Steve’s alright, and his answers are all short and rushed, so he’s definitely not. They’re not really friends, but Eddie’s not an asshole.

— “Did you drive?” Eddie asks

“Yeah”

“Well, you’re drunk, Steve. You can’t get behind a wheel right now. And if I knowingly let you, then that makes me an accomplice. I’ll take you home.”

Steve tries to protest, attempting to push past him, but Eddie interjects. “Yeah, yeah, alright! Don’t thank me yet, Steve’o. This is not for you, see, I’m not trying to get a criminal record, here. I cant go to prison, Steve. Do you know what they’d do to a pretty guy like me in prison? Nope, let’s go hot stuff.” —

Eddie takes Steve home. They don’t talk much. By the time they reach Steve’s drive way and Eddie has put his van in park, Steve is making no attempt to exit the vehicle just yet. Eddie doesn’t know what to do, he didn’t really plan this far, so he’s just tapping away awkwardly at his steering wheel while Harrington stares down the dashboard so clearly lost in thought Eddie fears his head might explode. Steve tells Eddie what happened, says it’s ‘relationship troubles’, and he’s not quite sure what compelled him into being so honest with Eddie Munson, but he’s blaming the alcohol. Eddie wasn’t expecting that. They chat for a bit, Eddie makes Steve laugh and considers the whole night a success after that. Then they start cracking jokes about their shared hatred for Hargrove, and Steve looks and sounds a bit more ok to go inside. He thanks Eddie, quite sincerely actually, and it throws him a bit. He stutters a ‘yeah, for sure. It’s no problem.’ And Steve goes home.

After that, it’s a little different. Steve, doesn’t actually really have anyone, anymore. When they go back to school he’s now greeting Eddie here and there in the hallways, making conversation when they find themselves alone together, in the lunch line or at the bathroom sink. He doesn’t approach Eddie when there’s too many people around, though. As much as he’s grown, Steve Harrington still carry’s some prejudice in him about how certain things may make him look. But it doesn’t bother Eddie too much. It’s not like they are really friends, they’re just like, strange acquaintances. And Steve would never deny that they get along, that really Eddie’s ‘not so bad’. So that’s a win.

Steve finds Eddie again not long after the party to buy some more weed, a plan that sparked purely out of boredom. Eddie says yes, of course, but tells him if he wants it today he will need to wait till after school and meet Eddie at his place, since he was busy. So Steve takes a trip to the Munson trailer to make his deal. Eddie invites him inside and they sit together on the couch as he gets Steve’s bag ready. They end up making quite pleasant conversation, joking around and ultimately finding they are really enjoying each other’s company. They enjoy it so much so, that Steve ends up smoking there, with Eddie. So now they are kind of like, hanging out? And it’s fun, so they do it again. Still they’re not, friends friends, they just get along. Eddie just sells Steve weed sometimes and they keep it civil.

He doesn’t hear from Steve for a while, and the next time he sees him it’s from a distance, in passing. The man has the most roughed up face Eddie has ever seen, bruised and swollen in multiple areas, stitches and bandages all over. It’s really, concerning? completely metal, but alarming. This is the second time Eddie has seen the guy all beaten up like that. He knew that boys fight, but surely not that bad? As worried as he was, Eddie doesn’t approach him to ask questions, because they don’t know eachother like that. So he goes on about his day, and he doesn’t see Steve again after that for quite some time.

Then it’s summer, Eddie isn’t graduating again, and he’s not really sure what to do with himself over the break. The new mall has just opened up, and there’s a cool music store up on the second floor that he likes to visit sometimes with his band friends. And wouldn’t you know, working at the Scoops Ahoy located directly across from his favourite store, is Steve Harrington. The guy hasn’t come to Eddie for any weed since last year, and then there was that sighting where he looked like he’d just fallen face first into a flying fist or two, so it’s been a minute since Eddie’s seen him. And he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a nice surprise. He only goes into scoops once. He’s curious, okay? Sue him. And, he knows the girl who works with him, Robin. So he plays it off like he had no idea he’d see Steve there. And to his surprise, Steve actually acknowledges him. He doesn’t act like Eddie is a total stranger just because they’re not in school anymore. The interaction is quick, they make very casual conversation, Eddie says hi to Robin, grabs his milkshake and goes home. That’s all. He doesn’t go back, and he doesn’t really plan to. Steve’s nice, and he knows Eddie’s around if he needs to buy from him again, and that’s really as far as their relationship goes. That’s all it ever was. It’s been fun getting to know Steve Harrington a little bit better, even if it was just for a short time. Eddie liked having the chance to see in past the quaffed hair and pressed polo shirts to learn that Steve was really just a person under it all. He never thought he’d say it, but Harrington wasn’t so bad. It was a nice little eye opening experience for Eddie.

Eddie was ready to write off his little blips of interaction with Steve Harrington as a thing of the past, no hard feelings, and move on with his life. That is, until he gets a knock at his front door in the middle of the night afew days after the big mall fire. And it’s Steve on the other side. And he looks awful, his face is the worst Eddie’s ever seen it. And he wasn’t really knocking, more like pounding. He says he needs Eddie’s help.

What the fuck?

[johnny-but-emo]

SO I WAS THINKING.

It seems like a somewhat common hc that fugo doesn’t like being called “pannacotta”. And at face value, one might think it’s cus that’s like a really dumb name.

But fugo isn’t the only jojo character with a weird name ofc, not by a long shot. And he’s also not the only gw character with a food name (most of them do have food related names) but that’s obvious anyway.

What I’m getting at is, for that hc, why doesn’t he wanna be called pannacotta?

One option would be that he just doesn’t want to be called pannacotta because he doesn’t want people (the bucci gang) calling him by his first name.

Maybe it feels overly familiar? Which would be odd given the fact that they are ((at the very least in my mind)) very close.

Or, maybe he prefers it because people would talk to him condescendingly? Relatives, or other people he used to know. Being a young child (and then a teen) people are almost definitely not going to be calling him by his surname.

His family and people who know them specifically. “(Mr.) Fugo” would be only used for his father, or some other older man in his family.

So it could be that he prefers being called fugo because to him at least, it feels much more respectful?

Or it could be more that he gets to choose what people call him now.

Buuuuuuut

With that last thing in mind, how he wants to choose what people call him

I figured

Who better to refer to than #1 T girl fugo fan?

oooh, that’s a fun question :D

Okay, so, I’m gonna be offering two ideas as to why Fugo might hate being called by her first name

number one is, obviously, looking at the headcannon with the idea that she’s trans, and is using her last name as a sort of chosen name. It explains why she doesn’t like being called Pannacotta, which acts as a deadname. As for the reason she might choose to go by Fugo specifically, there’s a couple options.

The one that’s easiest for me to explain is the idea that she only realized that she was trans some point after meeting Bucciaratti, maybe before the two got to know eachother very well. At this point, it’s around 1999-2000, and transphobia is much more common, so telling him that she wants to go by a different, more feminine name might be dangerous. instead of risking that, it would be much easier to go by her last name instead. It would be an odd request, but it could be brushed off as a formality, and it’s a name that Bucciaratti already knows.

my reasoning there was kinda weird, but it took me an hour to write, so I’m moving on to idea number two.

this one is focusing more on her past. One of the first things that we can pick up from Fugo’s backstory is that she was forced to grow up incredibly fast, and wasn’t given the chance to have a proper childhood. This sort of “don’t be childish” mentally has been forced onto her for her entire life, which is where the line “Being a young child (and then a teen) people are almost definitely not going to be calling him by his surname.” comes in. Since being called by her first name is informal/not as respectful, she could’ve just started going by Fugo at some point while she was in college to seem more like an adult. She wouldn’t like being called Pannacotta because to her, it would be insulting.

This one is a fun concept because it gives the opportunity for good character development. As she slowly lets go of the idea that she has to be mature and act like an adult, she gets more comfortable going by her first name, and she gets to be happy about being allowed to act like a teenager for once.

[beabnormal24]

Hi! For the shipping asks: 👅 💖 💔 (if you want to!)

Oooh, good one. i love answering asks.

1. 👅 (ship that you find most sexy)

I mean, Charlos, of course. I guess I don’t even need to explain myself on this one, but I guess I’ll do it anyway. I will say that in my personal opinion Carlos is the sexiest, in the sense that he has that sinuosity in his movements and that elegance and finesse in his gestures that just makes him incredibily sexy.

If you want to look at it in a figurative way, I see Carlos like Matthew Macfadyen in Pride and Prejudice, so hot in his austerity.

And Charles? Prettiest boy ever, so delicate but also clumsy and silly and sexy in that completely self conscious and self confident and effortless way that attractive people who are constantly giggling their asses off are. He’s the epitome of babygirlism and sassiness, but you should not doubt him - which is exactly what Carlos never does.

Figurative example? Jonathan Bailey as Tim Laughlin in Fellow Travelers during the ‘50-‘60s episodes.

Together? Sexiest ship alive.

2. 💖 (Ship that needs more love)

Since I am deeply undecided, I’ll offer two options.

First one, George Russell and Max Verstappen, also known as Gax. Why, do you say?

Their dynamics would be incredible, apart from the entire obvious enemies to lovers mechanism, let’s spend some time talking about their characterisation - because you all know how much I like that.

George, your next door British boy, curses in lower case and says Blimey and Crikey like it’s normal. He cares about his looks and his appearance. He’s thirsty for competition, neat, honest, proper, terribly impatient although he tries his very best to not let it show.

Now, Max? Curses in bold, replaces Hello and Hi with Shit and Fuck. Doesn’t care about his appearance as much as he cares about his own cats. He’s thirsty for competition, neat, honest, proper, terribly impatient and he lets it show.

Conclusion: they’re basically the same person, just in different fonts, similar in their dissimilarities.

One is Calibra Light, the other is Calibra Bold, and they’ll clash their horns against each other like angry deers, but then they’ll notice how good they actually look together, how good they work together, how good they match and boom…

No chances for anyone else, two puzzle pieces completing each other.

Uh, I might write something about that.

Anyway, second one? Alexander Albon and Logan Sargeant. And tell me if I even need to explain myself on this one.

They are the ship, they have everything!

Logan blushing furiously and falling for Alex’s teasing and looking at him longingly and smiling like a lovesick fool whenever Alex gives him attention or jokes about his obsession with America. He’s so enamoured with Alex that he even started copying some of his attitudes, because he’s that in love.

But let’s be clear, Alex is falling just as hard, because Logan is so cute and he likes the way there’s someone who actually looks up at him - not only figuratively, lol, because Nicholas is tall - and he blushes in such a cute shade of red when he calls him Logie Bear.

Alex might be a little bit obsessed with him.

I need to write about them.

3. 💔 (ship that makes you sad)

I honestly don’t know how to answer this one, I guess it is based on personal interpretation.

I would probably say that the one that makes me a little bit sad is Dando.

Ironic, you may say, but let’s think about it for a second.

They started to bloom a little late, because Lando was still attached to Carlos and Daniel isn’t as careful around boundaries as he should be in certain situations, and although Lando has clearly grown into an overconfident young man that we love to see thriving, he does initially still need some limits - like Carlos and Oscar had religiously respected.

But then they had bloomed, they started getting along like a house on fire. People do not realise how hard it actually is to become so close in such contexts without having any strings from before - like Alex and George or Charles and Pierre or Oscar and Logan and so on.

Lando went to his house in Perth, voluntarily, just to spend time with him and do crazy stuff on his farm and have the time of his life with someone that is ten years older than him.

But they get along so well that who does even care about age differences?

But just as they started to really develop through their relationship, shit happened and they got separated.

I’m really glad they still bloomed - sharing clothes like in Monaco and sharing jet rides and visiting each other and going to dinners together and stuff - but it does make me a little sad the thought that, in some twisted way, things still tried to put themselves through their building affection.

It also makes me sad the fact that, because of all of that, they didn’t get to shine as bright as they deserved.

That’s it, hope you liked my answers and please Ant let me know about yours, too! 🩷🩷

[cedarbranch]

OMG... tell your beloved fans about haunt me PLEASEEE + also "show me how you do that trick" + one dealer's choice :-D

WARGHH thank u <333

in response to the wip meme... putting this under a cut bc it got long lol

haunt me is my monstrosity of a stranger things wip, sitting around 90k and MAYBE 65% complete. if i'm lucky. it's fucking Long. the basic premise is that eddie dies and then steve starts dreaming about him and eventually comes to realize he is NOT dead, but in fact alive in the upside down and somehow psychically linked to steve... i won't get too deep into spoilers but it's kind of a kas!eddie fic but with a twist that's it's less kas and more similar to the pacific rim fic designations congruent with things (<= sentences that mean anything only to the most Niche Possible Audience). anyway the more complicated premise is steve's savior complex and how every single issue in his life connects back to it

show me how you do that trick is the sequel to my hellcheer fic, push the limit! (which. is fucking crazyy to me that that's the only stranger things fic actually posted on my ao3 given how much time i've spent working on haunt me 😭😭) anyway. it's as horny as the first in the series but with more feelings and plot. it's from eddie's pov and includes some actual proper kink negotiation and apologies following the insanity of the og fic, and also some RLY CUTE FLIRTING!!! a snippet for thee:

“I don’t like… weird dirty talk?” Chrissy says, wrinkling her nose. “Like, the stuff they say in bad pornos.” Eddie sighs in feigned exasperation. “God, it’s like pulling teeth here. Specifics, woman, I need specifics!”  “I don’t know! Like,” Chrissy opens her mouth, then closes it again, flushing brilliantly. “No. I’m sorry, I can’t, I can’t say any of it. I just—I don’t like the word ‘pussy,’ or ‘cunt,’ or anything like that, just—” She flaps her hands in the direction of her crotch—”Just don’t directly refer to it while we’re in the act? Like, if you’re having sex, it should speak for itself!”  Eddie grins at her.  “What?” she demands, all frustrated but laughing with her eyes.  “I love that you have porn opinions,” he says fondly. “You asked!”

for dealer's choice... oooh this is tough... but i think i'll go with 5 + 1, the full title of which will one day be "5 times steve tried to teach eddie how to swim and one time it worked" or something of the like. this fic was born out of me a) wanting to write something with intense hot-summer-day energy, b) being really interested in water/swimming as the focal point of Multiple Traumatic Incidents in steve's life as of s4, and c) can you fucking imagine if part of the reason eddie was last to jump from the boat in lover's lake was that he couldn't swim. and then he DID IT ANYWAY. but yeah second snippet:

Eddie is, in fact, wearing boxer briefs, and nothing else. Seeing so much of his skin never gets less startling, no matter how many times Steve’s splashed around with him in the lake. He always forgets that Eddie’s shoulders aren’t as broad as the vest normally makes them look. He’s pale as a goddamn sheet, too, except for the pink-red scars that pockmark his stomach and chest.  Eddie catches him looking. “Might not even be worth it to teach me to swim,” he says wryly. “Don’t think I can ever set foot at a public pool again with these bad boys.” “We could just go together,” says Steve. “Then we’d match.”  His own wounds have healed up better than Eddie’s. The demobats tore him up pretty good, but the bites were shallow; as months passed by, they’ve smoothed over into pale, warped ripples of scar tissue. Without thinking about it, Steve touches one close to his hip. As if in a mirror, Eddie does the same, his fingertips brushing over his stomach.  His boxers have little skulls on them.

your honor i fucKGIGN LOVE THEMMM!!! IDIOTS!!!!

[starlightiing]

I want to know about the inception au! Who is more like Arthur, who is more like Eames, what is their history, what are they doing that requires them to be dressed up... spill anything you want!

Oooh very good questions! I literally just put my brain together for the Inception AU last night so maybe we can all help me develop this one! I had a plot for the Inception AU with other drivers, but not for these two specifically.

Arthur and Eames have their own sort of complicated personalities. I think Esteban is more Eames - not afraid to be silly, wicked smart but hides it behind the silly and the aloof.

Comparing Pierre to Arthur is a little more difficult, because Arthur is VERY rigid, he's very proper, he's very posh, he's very...a lot of things Pierre really isn't. But Pierre is also not really like Eames at all - so I think his personality aligns more with Arthur's. He's particular, he wants things certain ways, he likes to be in control, ect ect.

This gets so long, my apologies.

If we stick with that comparison, that would of course make Pierre the Point-Man (idk how into Inception you are, but I've done extensive deep dives and used to write one of the characters for fun (Eames actually) so I did a ton of research on it and probably know more than even Christopher Nolan himself) but the point-man is the info guy. He does all the research, makes sure not a hair is out of place. Makes sure the team knows what to expect and how to expect it. He's kind of the biggest part in terms of set up and execution.

So that would leave Esteban as the forger which, in my opinion, oddly fits. The forger of course is the 'shapeshifter' who can manifest themselves to look like anyone they so choose inside of a dream. But it goes deeper than that, of course. If they are to play an important role (like someone close to the mark, the person they are invading) it isn't enough to look the part, you have to act the part. It comes down to studying the person you're going to forge, making sure you get the finest details, the smallest mannerisms, speak like them, ect. So basically he would be an actor!!! Who can change what he looks like in dreams to manipulate marks.

Why are they dressed up? Well, that's just because everyone in the movie is always dressed to the nines LOL They're running around with guns in suits and fancy outfits. I guess that wouldn't mean EVERYONE in the business does that, but its more fun that way, don't you think? Especially if they're doing really high-risk jobs for a shit ton of money.

Coming up with their history is going to be much more interesting. Arthur and Eames in the film NEVER go over what exactly happened between them. It's just snide comments. Cobb says, "I'm going after Eames" and Arthur is just like "what? no? he's in Mombasa." and Cobb goes there any picks him up anyway. Then in a conversation with Eames..

EAMES: It's perfectly possible. Just bloody difficult. COBB: That's what I keep saying to Arthur. EAMES: Arthur? You're still working with that stick-in-the-mud? COBB: He's a good point man. EAMES: The best. But he has no imagination. If you're going to perform inception, you need imagination.

Of course, then, there's the scene where they're all in their little team meeting coming up with the idea to plant in Robert's head...

Cobb : That might work. Arthur : Might? We're gonna need to do a little better than 'might'. Eames : Oh, thank you for your contribution, Arthur. Arthur : Forgive me for wanting a little specificity, Eames. Eames: Chuckling but also looking at him like ???? Arthur : Specificity?

And this gem:

Arthur : Eames, I am impressed. Eames : Your condescension, as always, is much appreciated, Arthur, thank you.

And two parts later that are much more minor - Arthur pulling out a gun to shoot against some heavily armed security, Eames pushing him aside with this huge ass bazooka, "You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling." - the line that sailed the ship in the dwindling inception fandom ahaha.

And then later when Arthur puts them all to sleep in the hotel room so they can go down to the snow level. Eames says, "Security is going to run you down hard." and Arthur replies with, "And I will lead them on a merry chase." Eames: Be sure to be here in time for the kick. Arthur, aggravated: Go to sleep, Mr. Eames.

So that's really all the crumbs we get in terms of those two, with only the simple implication that they've PROBABLY worked together a time or two before (Probably more than that - because why does Arthur IMMEDIATELY know where Eames is when Cobb asks if they don't like each other? And why is Eames so readily able to admit that Arthur is the best at what he does, he just has no imagination?) They work VERY well together, their personalities just clash and they have some sort of disdain for each other. Though more than anything, Eames finds it very funny and Arthur kind of takes it a lot more personal/serious.

With all THAT said - we can assume, safely, that Pierre and Esteban probably used to run small jobs together back when they were younger. Dream sharing IS illegal, just in case anyone forgot, and not exactly the easiest thing to access. They probably got in around the same time, or Esteban pulled Pierre in after he'd been in it a year or two, and went from there. I'd say they probably had a few jobs go sour, sometimes because of Pierre and sometimes because of Esteban, sometimes because of someone else on the team - whatever. And these are high stakes jobs.

If you don't fulfill yours and your client's contract, they do come after you. Usually to kill. Hence why Arthur and Cobb were on the run after that first failed mission right away in the movie.

I would imagine it makes tensions build and eventually they just work together so much and get so sick of each other that it starts to cause fights, arguments, ect. I feel like something pretty major must have happened - maybe one of their team mates was killed, maybe a dream went horribly wrong and they were stuck in limbo together to the point of wanting to rip each other's throats out - I'm not really sure. Ideas and suggestions always welcome.

But whatever it may be - they CAN, at least, work together they would just rather not. So then being paired together on one of the biggest jobs of their lives, with the most at stake, the highest risk, also simultaneously the hardest thing they've ever done (because no one has achieved inception before aside from one person) - it causes a lot of tension. Some of it coming out in more...sexual and emotional ways.

Thoughts? Prayers? Let me know what you think! I feel like I've given you a fucking novel at this point, but this is LEGIT the process my brain goes through when I start formulating ideas - especially AUs based on movies and such. I have more to add I'm sure, I just have to stew on it a bit, toss some ideas around, figure out what exactly happened between the two...and then I can put it all together.

Thanks for reading (and for the ask!)

[inquisimer]

Oooh, 5, 8, 7, and 24 for the love your fandom asks! c:

thank you for the ask friend <3

spread some positivity with a "love your fandom" ask!

5. something you see in fics a lot and love

Multiple PCs!! I love when people write "all origins" fics, or double Hawke AUs, or have all the possible Inquisitors show up during DAI. Or when people bring potential PCs from previous games (that weren't actually the HoF or Hawke) and have them show up in later instances! I was just rereading a fic earlier where Cadash is a lyrium smuggler, Trevelyan is a Templar with the Inquisition, etc, an dI love that sort of thing.

7. your favorite tropes to read/write/draw

Oh man oh man oh man, I always struggle to identify "tropes" that I like to write 😂 I suppose canon divergence, is that a trope? I also like enemies/idiots to lovers and Not Actually Unrequited Love

8. you hope more people will come to appreciate ___ (a ship, a trope, an episode, etc)

Platonic ships!! Genfic my beloved 😭💖😭 romance is all well and good, but friendships and non-romantic relationships (my Sibling Bias™️, augh) are just so so so precious to me. Especially in games like DA where the world is constantly ending, what else do you have during the apocalypse besides the people around you? 🥺

24. how has fandom positively impacted your life?

In entirely immeasurable ways😭💖💖 Most of the people I count among my closest friends, I've met via the DA fandom in the past two years. They've supported me and hyped me and helped me face insecurities and self-directed negativity that I never thought I would get through. With them I've found acceptance and community and love that makes me want to crush the distance between us. Speaking of community, that's the other positive impact I've found in fandom! The DA community is alive and well and full of bright and brilliant people. I love the mutual hype, the crazy fan theories, the feeding frenzy that starts every time we get even a scrap of DA4 news. And writing exchanges! What a fun thing to participate in. At the time that I picked up DAI, we were mid-pandemic and I had just moved back home from college and socializing was either nonexistent for safety or hard to find. I'm a true introvert and often at peace with just my own company, but even for me it was a lonely and isolating time. The Tumblr and especially Discord communities I've found here have connected me to Other People more than I've felt since living in college dorms years ago. A lot of that is due to a friend I made by commenting on her fic on ao3 - without her as my guide, I probably would have been too scared to step into the communities that I love so dearly now, or even into the roles I play within those communities. I might not even be posting writing, which is insane! And our first conversation was about, like, the proper way to use hyphens when writing dialogue lol. Anyway the POINT of that is: find your guide! Comment on fics, reblog things with nice tags, reply to posts when you smile and think "wow that's cool" and say that! Accept the awkward first messages of friendship and you'll find a bridge to wonderful places within fandom. Community is what you make of it - if you never talk to anyone, they won't talk to you. But if you reach out and talk to people, in one form or another, there are so many positive, uplifting communities out there to join and enjoy <3 (sorry to proselytize, I just 😭😭 I love it here)

[palbabor-writes]

Impetuous

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, SMUT/18+only, cunnilingus, switching, bratting, face-riding, Satoru being Satoru, so he’s chatty & in general the worst  

Words: 12,815

“Knock it off,” you huff, doing your best to ignore how your breasts press against the flat planes of his chest. Then his fingers are under your chin, gently tipping your head up and leaning so close that his lips are inches from your own. 

“But what if I don’t want to?” he teases, his voice falling into a lower, hushed pitch before he relaxes his hold, letting you slip from his hands.

Notes: this thing has been languishing in my drafts since like, January. because it was my first step away from BNHA i’ve sorta over analyzed it & edited it, likely to death. but anyway, without further ado, here is my first venture into the JJK fandom! thank you for edits & suggestions: @albinoburrito, @kugutsuu​, @kogo​ & everyone else that i’ve forced to look at this thing. love you all sm & ty for putting up with me!

& it’s gojo because of course it fucking is. 

Impetuous im·pet·u·ous /imˈpeCH(o͞o)əs/ adjective done quickly

“I hate to be a harbinger of bad news, and I can understand your frustration, but that’s what they asked me to do. Doesn’t matter what continent we’re on, elders are elders. Honestly, I’m a little shocked that this teaching pathway is even an option for him.” Although you speak softly, your voice seems to carry more in these close meeting rooms, clattering off the tatami mats and gleaming leather couches.   

Yaga massages the bridge of his nose and adjusts his dark sunglasses before lifting his eyes to yours. “I understand, but I still feel that he would be an asset to our school. As long as his motivations remain pure, that’s all I can ask for, at present.”

“Pure or not,” you continue, lacing your fingers as you cross one leg over the other. “It’s vital to see how he handles himself on these missions. What if he has a student with him? I’ve never seen his fighting style, but I’ve heard he can be reckless. How can he foster confidence and proper growth if he’s not measured on the basics? There’s the additional worry of taking him off of the higher ranked missions. Or, if you elect to keep sending him on them, can he handle both? Can he teach and still be a successful sorcerer and asset?”

“He’ll be expected to do both. He knows this,” Yaga sighs, reaching for his lukewarm cup of tea. “While he’s not known for his conventionality, I don’t think that will interfere with his teaching. As I said, some recent events at the school have helped to illuminate the importance of managing the coming generation. Satoru is confident, and I believe that will translate well to any future students. He’s already taken on some responsibility with young Fushiguro and the boy is doing well under his instruction.”

“Fushiguro?” you ponder. Your school administration and the head elders had given you a list of names, people who represented the top families among Japan’s sorcerers, but you don’t remember seeing a name like Fushiguro among the others.

“He’s related to the Zen’in family,” Yaga explains, spreading his vast hands open as he replaces his tea cup against the low table that rests between the two of you. “So, if I’m understanding correctly, your superiors in America have sent you to Japan to collect a series of reports. One is on the influence of curses and how our alumni comport themselves in the field. The other is the analysis of our teaching styles and to, how did you put it, ‘further diversify your own teaching abilities as a jujutsu educator.’ And, as if that wasn’t possibly enough, to observe our newest teaching candidate, Satoru Gojo.” 

“In a nutshell,” you confirm, a smile quirking the edge of your lips. “We’ve got some missions lined up, right?”

“Yes. You will enter the field with Satoru and one other returning alumna, Shoko Ieiri. She’s finished her medical degree and will join our research facilities in the coming weeks.”

“Oh! She’s the one who can use the reverse healing technique! I’ve heard of her.”

“Yes. She was in Satoru’s class. I realize your report is the main aim that you have here, but I would ask that you keep an open mind. While your report is of value to our school, it will not affect my decision on the matter.”

You lean against the stiff cushions of the couch and cock your head at Yaga’s impassive expression. “Of course,” you assure him, noting that nothing in his outward appearance shifts as you give him the response he was waiting for. “Should be an interesting week, at the very least.”

“Oh,” Yaga replies, finally cracking a less than reassuring grin. “Satoru will make sure of that.”

“Hey! (L/N)-san! The next report is up and they’re sending a manager for us, hurry up! Stop scribbling things in that little notebook. What are you writing anyway? Is it some kinda biography? Oooh! Is it on me? Is that why you keep looking at me? It is, isn’t it? Ahh, now I’m gonna feel self-conscious.”

You snap your notepad closed and slip it into your hip pouch, stepping toward the two fellow members of your team. “It’s just routine notes and you don’t need to call me (L/N)-san. I realize it’s likely force of habit, but please, just call me (Y/N).”

“Ahhh! We’re already on a first name basis! I’m blushing. I’ve never had a girl be this forward with me!” Satoru sighs, clapping his hands against his cheeks and leaning over you. “You’re so bold!”

“Ugh,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at him. “Liar, and stop that. I’m still the senior sorcerer in this party. I–”

“But you’re just a grade 1,” he interrupts, bracing his hands on his hips and exaggerating his stance, moving his face close to yours. As he looms ever nearer, you raise your chin and hold your ground. This invasion of personal space is a tactic he loves to use. 

At first, you’d figured he was just another one of those guys who weren’t aware how intimidating their sheer height and presence came off to others. However, as the days wore on, you noticed his intentional maneuvering. He would press at Shoko too, but she was better at ignoring him, so he soon turned his full attention to you.

“Yeah, I might only be a grade 1, but they have given me the command on all of our missions. It’s my job to file the reports, a task that you, as the technical ‘junior party’, aren’t trusted to do.”

“You’re so right! That’s a tremendous responsibility. How do you stand under all that pressure (Y/N)! The role of the pencil pusher is such a big job. I should act right! Or I’ll never be a real jujutsu sorcerer! God, look at this Shoko, we need to get our shit together! At this rate, we’ll never be able to file our own reports!”

“Now, now,” you tut, raising a finger in front of your face, forcing him to take a subconscious step backwards. “Watch what you say, after all, you’re wanting to become a teacher. So some part of the masochism of endless paperwork must appeal to you.” 

Satoru’s smooth lips raise into a broad smirk and pulls away, arching his arms behind his pale head. “Hmm, I’ll give you that one (Y/N). Mainly because of your choice of wording. Masochism. What a word for it. And why’d you have to say it so straight faced? Oh, that reminds me, what time is our next mission at?”

“Uh, why did masochism remind you of that?” you pause, lifting your wrist so you can check the time on your watch. “I think it’s in two hours, give or take traffic.”

“Hmm, and it’s in the Chiba district?”

“Yeah, that’s in Tokyo, right?”

“It is,” Shoko chimes in, twirling a lock of her long brown hair between two of her fingers. Her low voice reminds you, and you turn to face her. “Speaking of names, I never asked, would you prefer Shoko or Ieiri?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she replies, lifting her tawny eyes to yours, catching some of the bright sunlight as it fades into the deep circles under her eyelids. The contrast makes her skin look even more pallid. “First name, last name, whatever is easier.”

“Shoko okay with you then?”

“Sure,” she nods, the ghost of a smile lifting her lips. 

“Oi!” Satoru interrupts, slinging an arm over Shoko’s shoulder and fixing you with a pointed look. Or you assume he is, it’s hard to tell where he’s looking because of those white strips of cloth that obscure his eyes. “You know what’s in Chiba, don’t you?”

You blink at him, unsure if this is another one of his aimless questions or something genuine. “No. Should I?”

“You’re a tourist and you really don’t know what’s in–”

“We’ve already been over this Satoru; I am not a tourist,” you protest. “I’m here on official business from my administration to–”

“Yeah, yeah. Look, special, ‘top secret’ assignment or not, you’re still basically a tourist because it’s your first time to Japan. You’re honestly telling me you didn’t look up anything before you arrived?”

“Um,” you waver, eyes narrowing at the cheerful leer that’s drifting over Satoru’s angular features. “I looked up some basic things. I know about the Shinjuku and Roppongi districts. Oh, and Harajuku, that’s a big one too.”

“Mmhm, very good, my little tourist, but do you know what’s in the Chiba district?”

“Don’t call me that and stop screwing around Satoru. If this has nothing to do with the mission, then I’m not interested. I could care less what’s in the district–”

“Might just be rumors, but I’ve been hearing about an increase in cursed activity. Especially around that theme park. I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” he looks upward, pearlescent hair tumbling behind his wrappings. “I guess it’s not surprising that it’s a hot spot, what with all the people who are always checking it out. It’s pretty famous.” 

Tch. He’s not gonna tell you. 

You suck your teeth and twist your hand back to your hip pouch, digging for your phone. As you peer over the search results you can hear him rambling on about the notoriety of the unnamed place but as soon as you hit the second result, your head whips back up. 

There’s no way. 

Of course you’d heard of it, you’d even thought about it when the higher ups asked you to take on the assignment to Japan, but never, not in a million years, would you have figured that you’d have a chance to go. Not on this trip.

“Are you serious?” you breathe, blinking up at his smug face. Satoru doesn’t answer, just pops one hand under his chin and gives you a shit-eating grin. You look back at your phone and bite your lip, doing your best to contain your budding excitement, double checking the map for the district.

If he’s not pulling some kind of elaborate joke, it looks like Tokyo Disneyland is the location of your next mission.

“What… what the fuck is this, some kinda elaborate joke??” 

The gates to the amusement park are warped, and the paint is peeling; one side looks like it’s about to melt off of the frame, all twisted metal and faded rust. Just past the gates you can see what looks like an old merry-go-round, complete with lions, tigers, bears and several sets of horses. At the tip-top of the ride rest a star, and atop that star is a wraith like curse. It spindles around the flecks of gold and cool bronze, baring its teeth at the three of you and sputtering a long line of broken speech as it twists and turns. 

“Huh, still looks about the same. This place was enormous when I was a kid. Now it’s a trendy spot for ghost hunters and thrill seekers! I think five or six people died here last year.” Satoru grins, tucking his hands into his pockets as he strides forward. In seconds, he’s beside the curse on the merry-go-round, silencing chittering of its inane dialogue, letting an eerie quiet seep over the rest of the abandoned grounds.

“So stupid. I cannot believe I let him make me think we were going to Disneyland. You know what he’s like, Shoko! Why didn’t you tell me? He–”

“I honestly don’t listen to him. No idea he was making you think this was Tokyo Disney,” Shoko interrupts, already following the path Satoru took, tucking her brown hair behind her neck with a loose hair tie. “But since we’re here, could you lower the curtain and take care of those level 2 curses on the ticket booth?”

You let out a long sigh and toss her a quick affirmative, reciting the familiar incantation, watching as the darkening shield slopes its way down from the skies, sheltering the three of you within its haze.

The first set of curses are easy enough and you swiftly take care of them, unleashing your cursed technique and splicing them into faded dust. How ridiculous, you think, opening the door to the booth and dodging an ill timed lunge from a sneakier curse who was hiding inside. Satoru honestly had you thinking that you’d be going to the Disneyland theme park. On the way over, he’d even told you about the layout of the park and what potential curses might be lurking about. 

What a jerk. 

Still, you muse, turning toward another shrieking hulk of a curse that’s lumbering toward you, it’s impressive he’d led you on so easily. You make a mental note to get back at him later, for now you need to clear this area and focus on the task at hand. 

“I cannot believe that you led me on like that!” you pout, knocking back a small swig of beer.

“Pfft,” Satoru chuckles, wagging one long finger at you. “Didn’t ever say it was gonna be Disneyland, did I? You came to that conclusion all on your own.”

“Oh please! Making me look up what ‘famous tourist spots are in Chiba’ and then nodding each time I said I was excited to see some of the rides on the way over.”

“You could have really been into haunted carnivals. How was I supposed to know?”

“Ass,” you snap playfully, sticking your tongue out at his pleased smile. 

After the mission and spotting your peeved expression, Satoru had insisted that you let him take the two of you out for a drink. According to Shoko, the bar in this neighborhood was highly rated and had some of the best specials in the entire district. 

The place was packed; but somehow Shoko had secured three seats up at the bar top, ushering you to sit between her and Satoru, informing you there must always be a three foot buffer between her and ‘that loser’. The bartender seemed to know her and, before you could pull yourself into the worn leather seat, three foaming lagers were passed across the rough surface of the bar top, one for each of you. 

“Thanks,” you’d murmured, cupping your hands around the glass. On your right, Satoru pushed his lager toward you, raising two fingers at the distracted barkeep as he chatted with Shoko. “What’s wrong? Don’t like beer?” you’d asked, bemused by his disgruntled expression. 

“Nah,” he’d confirmed, wagging his digits a little faster, chin lifting as he let out a huffed exhale. “Messes with my eyes. I want something to eat, though. Hey! Shoko! Stop flirting with him and ask if they have anything sweet! Shokooo! Don’t ignore me!”

Shoko made a show of rolling her eyes but, a few minutes later, a plate of piping hot fried sweet buns appeared and he’d swiftly grabbed up one, popping it in his mouth and smacking it hungrily. You’d turned to ask Shoko what they were, but by the time you’d twisted back to Satoru over half of the cakes were gone. 

“Damn, you inhaled them,” you’d exhaled, a little shocked he could scarf them down that quickly.

“Well, they’re not bad and hit the spot, for now,” he’d grinned. “Want one?”

“I’m good. You might bite my finger if I get too close… mistake it for one of the buns…”

“Awe, what’s wrong? Think you wouldn’t taste good?”

“Yikes,” you laugh and Satoru hums, clearly pleased with your genuine mirth.

Shoko, who was soon engrossed in conversation with a few of the other patrons to the left of her, kept ordering rounds for the both of you. To keep up, you diligently sipped at each fresh beer, careful to keep abreast of the thrum of the alcohol with several responsible swigs of water. Satoru seemed content with his small order of sweets and peppered you with questions about life in America. He asked about what grade year you taught, the ins and outs of curses within the states and how you liked Japan. He kept things lively and made a point to throw in a few lighthearted jokes at you, beaming each time you laughed at his barbs. 

“So, what you’re saying is there’s no one in America quite like me?” he teases, stretching his long arms dramatically before leaning closer to you.

“Stop that! You’re gonna hit someone,” you grin, trying to shove at his side, watching as your hand freezes in midair, held off by his limitless technique. “Seriously? You’ve still got that on?”

“Mmhm,” Satoru intones. “24/7, 365!”

“You would,” you try to jostle him again, bemused by the fraying and shimmering sliver of infinity that rests between the two of you.

“It’s a tremendous strain on my brain, you know,” he bemoans, dropping his head and fixing a long frown over his lips.

“You deserve it.”

“Ack!” Satoru cries out, clutching at his heart. “Wow! No sympathy! You really gonna treat me like this? My senpai?”

“May I remind you - Tokyo Disneyland,” you intone, glaring at his haggard expression. 

“WOW. You’re never gonna let that go, huh?” Satoru cracks a face, arching his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, letting a high pitched, cracked voice leech from his lips. “Ahhh, that damned man! He deprived me of my dreams! The chance to see Tokyo Disneyland, one last time!”

“What is that? Me? But… old?”

“Pretty good, right?”

“No.”

“Well, I think it was uncanny!” he crows, nodding.

“What in your warped mind makes you think I’ll sound anything like that when I’m old?” you ask, pushing your empty beer pint forward as you purse your lips. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so excited over the idea of a theme park,” he ponders, tapping a bent index finger against his smooth chin. “Don’t you guys have them in the states? The Disney parks, I mean.”

“We do, we have two. But, since you made me think we were coming to Tokyo Disneyland, I looked up some rides,” you snatch your phone from the counter, scrolling through a few photos before you land on the right one. “Ah! Here it is! Look at this! See?” you chirp, pushing the gleaming screen of your phone toward him.

“Uh. What am I looking at?”

“It’s the Tower of Terror!”

“Which is… ummm… a ride?”

“Yeah? And look at it! It’s upside down! I don’t think the one in America does that,” your finger reaches toward your phone and you blow up the closest image, tapping at the bright colors. Satoru laughs and waves a hand up, attracting the bartender once more and gesturing for another beer for you. “Imma get you another drink, you’re fun like this, plus, you’re just too cute with that little smile.”

You miss his last comment, wholly focused on finding another set of images. “Oh my God! Look! During Halloween they have a night parade in front of it! And… ahhh! Satoru! There’s a green ghost at the top! It’s almost like that curse we saw tonight at the carnival!” 

His long fingers snatch up your bright device, and he yanks it away from your wide eyes. “Ok, that’s enough of that. I’m worried you might end up cursing me for not taking you.”

You give him a sour look and vainly try to grab your phone back, fingers unable to pass through his unseen barrier. “What? No fair! I still don’t understand how you can always have this up!”

“Practice,” he taunts, shaking his head at your determination and wandering touch, chuckling each time you bounce off of his cursed technique. “On another note,” he begins as your new lager is placed in front of you. “What’s in that report that you’re working on?”

You decide to ignore the fact that he’s still holding your phone and cautiously sip past the foam of your fresh beer, peering up at him, studying the lines of his white cloth. It doesn’t tell you much, so you look at his lips instead. They’re pale, but they’re held in a serious line, so you carefully construct your response. “What makes you think I have a report?”

“Why else would you be here?” Satoru counters, rapping his nails against the warped wood of the bar top. “I know you met with Yaga and you’re too cautious and overpowered to be sent on missions with Shoko and me. So you must be here for something else.”

“Officially,” you concede, “I’m here to observe the teaching techniques and skills of the alumni of your school. I’m sure this will come as no shock, but curses are getting more powerful, both here and overseas, and we’re doing our best to keep ahead of those changes. I’m supposed to pick up what tricks I can and bring them back home, to see how we can implement it.”

“Reasonable,” he allows, spreading his fingers before coiling them under his palms again. “But that’s not everything, is it?”

No, you think it’s not. 

You lower your beer and look over at him. He’s braced himself against the bar and his head is dipped so his chin is almost against his breastbone. He doesn’t exactly look dejected, but you can see that he’s thinking deeply and something about that openness makes your heart squeeze. He looks a bit like a kicked puppy. 

Ugh, he’s not a bad guy. He’s funny, and he knows what he’s doing, plus he has the confidence to get where he needs to go. In all honesty, he wouldn’t make a terrible teacher. Maybe not the best, but he certainly wouldn’t be the worst. 

“I–there… there’s some concern you’d be too divided - that it’s not practical to have you teach and go on missions. I also don’t think your own elders trust you much.”

“Ah-ha!” Satoru beams, springing upward and pointing two finger guns at you. “You are here to look in on me! Knew it!”

You can’t help but laugh at him. “Fine, fine, you got me. Let’s get this over with, huh? So we can get back to talking about things other than work, I liked that. What’s the most direct thing I can ask? Hmm, oh! I’ll start with something easy–Why do you want to teach?”

“That’s easy?” he whines, head falling again. 

“It’s straightforward,” you bargain, propping your chin on your fist, looking him over. 

“Sure, let’s pretend that’s not a deceptively loaded question! Alright, well, it’s the best way to change things.”

“Change things?”

“Yup. Like you mentioned, lately curses have become more powerful and lately it feels like I’m the only one who’s being sent on these high-level missions. Frankly, it’s stupid to rely on just me that much, you know? That’s not practical, or even realistic. So, to my mind, it’s vital I throw my support behind some of these up-and-coming kids. You know, foster the next generation and all that. I want reliable allies in the field and to have that, I’ve gotta make sure they’re taught right. Give them everything I know, make them better than me, stronger than me.” 

You’re quiet for a long breath, eyes wide, fingers frozen around your glass, which was midway to your lips. “Damn,” you smile, letting the word hang. “You know, that was actually a pretty good answer.”

Satoru clicks his tongue and curls his lips in a grimace. “Don’t sound so surprised.” 

“I mean,” you chuckle and look up at him, eyes bright. “Well, your attitude doesn’t always inspire confidence.” 

“Ahhhhhh,” he groans, thumping his covered forehead against the bar. “Such a low blow! Bartender! Another round for me!”

“Please,” you sigh, finally taking a sip of your beer. “Do not call your sweet buns ‘another round.’” He grins at you and leans across the bar top, shifting his weight toward your bent arm. The pressure of his shoulder is warm and you nudge at him a little, playfully. He tuts at you but continues to stare ahead, a faint smile teasing the edge of his lips. 

As the bartender slides the requested plate of sweets down, you suddenly realize that you’re touching him. Your eyes widen and you slowly turn your head toward his. He’s not looking at you, content with chewing on his sweet bread, but he’s still braced against you. It’s like all of your senses are finely tuned to that one spot of faint friction between the two of you. You can feel the lines of his muscled arm as he shifts and you involuntarily gulp, doing your best to ignore the abrupt thudding of your heart. 

He said he always kept it up, didn’t he? Something about 24/7 and all the days of the year, so why is he…

“Hey,” Shoko’s voice startles you and you instinctively slide closer to Satoru, arm dragging against his shoulder as you try to right yourself again. “I’m gonna go win this drinking contest these guys have started. You two sticking around for a bit?”

“Uh,” you begin, but Satoru cuts you off, draping an arm over the back of your chair. “Yeah, we’ll be here. What are the stakes?”

“Not sure. But the pot is likely against me, if you’re in a betting mood.”

“Sure, I’ll put 20,000 yen on you.”

“Is…” you start, but Shoko is already walking off, one arm pumped into the air as she shoulders her way to the long table that’s filled with five or six others, all of them holding a full pint glass of beer between their hands. You turn back to Satoru and let out a long breath. “Is that safe?”

“Huh?” he asks, face close to yours. You can smell his cologne from here and the heady scent of him and crisp patchouli fills your senses. “I mean Shoko, will she be ok?” you elaborate, eyes studying the space where his own would be, silently hoping that he’ll pull down the barrier that covers half of him from your curious gaze. 

“Ah,” he nods sagely, leaning back a little to look out at where Shoko is sitting, quietly waiting for the start of the game with her full beer. “She’s got a ridiculously high tolerance. Wouldn’t be surprised if it’s part of her cursed technique. She’ll be fine.”

“True, she likely knows the limits of the human body better than anyone else. But… I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so… excited?” you muse, sitting against your chair and running into the flat palm of Satoru’s hand. For a moment, you debate shifting away, but he’s not really doing anything, just letting the tips of his fingers rest against the curve of your spine, tapping a disjointed rhythm as he watches the start of the contest, that all too familiar smile still tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“She used to be a little more laid back, you know?” he replies, leaning a little harder into your side as he lowers his voice, keeping close to your ear so you can hear him. “She always looks so tired now and her whole outlook has changed, but I suppose four years of med school will do that to you. Although, I did hear that she cheated her way out.”

“No!” you gasp, eyebrows lifted in shock. Satoru laughs, and for once, you’re not thinking it might be at your expense. “Yeah! Just the word on the street. But I wouldn’t put it past her. Shoko’s always done her best to avoid things, namely confrontation or extra work, so it makes sense she’d jet outta med school as fast as she could too.”

“That’s crazy and frankly, terrifying.”

“Riiight?” he shivers, lips raising in an exaggerated wince. “But that’s our Shoko. I’ve got a feeling she’ll do well at the school and I’m grateful I’ll have time to work with her again. It’s been way too long…” Satoru trails off and you can feel his hand slip up your back, fingers ghosting over your shoulder blades.

“Stop that,” you scold, shaking him off with a quick jolt and twisting around to look at his roguish smirk. “What happened to always maintaining your barrier?”

“Awe” he groans, dunking his head against your shoulder with a thump. “Come on, I’ve gotta win you over somehow!”

“Are you serious?”

“Well, I mean, I want the job.”

“I’m gonna hit you,” you threaten, doing your best to keep your bubbling amusement contained. 

“Try it,” he taunts, lifting his head and keeping his face close. His nose is inches from yours and you can barely make out his sharp grin, but you can feel the drag and pull of his breath as it passes over you, leaving a lingering sweetness against your skin. Instantly, your hand lifts to him, fully intent on shoving him back, but you can’t move any closer, trapped by the sudden emergence of his infinity. 

“Ass,” you prickle, shaking your head at his antics. Another peal of laughter falls from his soft lips and you can’t help but smile back, caught up in his infectious joviality. “Tch. Don’t make me find more Tokyo Disney pictures.”

“You can’t,” he informs you, cocking his head at your confusion. “I still have your phone.”

“Hey! Give that back!” you gasp, snatching blindly at him. He shifts back into his seat and yanks your device out of his pocket, waggling it tauntingly in front of you. “Uh-uh! Gotta get past the barrier first!”

“That’s not fair!”

“Never said that I’d make this… oh! Shoko! How did it go? Win me something?”

You twist and spot Shoko’s dark head approaching the two of you. She pauses beside Satoru and flips a large stack of bills down on the bar top, a wide grin on her usually impassive face. “As expected, I won. Here’s your cut, Satoru. Don’t spend it all in one place or on another order of sweet buns, would you? Think you can do that for me?” 

She and Satoru bicker back and forth playfully as you unfold several of the notes, aimlessly organizing them on the countertop as their brisk conversation winds back down.

“So,” Shoko murmurs, pulling a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket and knocking one free from the carton. “You two gonna head out soon? I don’t really see a need to call one of the managers, the school’s close by and so is (Y/N)’s hotel.” 

“Yeah,” Satoru replies, finally passing your phone back as he collects the neatly stacked set of yen from you. “Figured, I’d see her back.”

“I can find it!” you protest, jamming your phone safely into your pouch once more.

“Sure,” he mocks, arching toward you as he braces an elbow against the bar. “You can barely speak Japanese and I know you can’t read much kanji, but sure thing, let’s let you loose in the city. See how far you make it before you’re calling one of us, hmm?”

“That’s not… I–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Satoru waves his hand back and forth and turns back to Shoko. “I’ll let her finish her drink and then we’ll head out. See you tomorrow?”

Shoko nods at his question and, for a moment, you think you spy a knowing look pass between the two of them, but before you can call out to her, Shoko is already making her way toward the door.

“What was that?” you ask, eyes narrowed as Satoru looks down at you, white hair gleaming under the low lights. “What?” he asks innocently, propping his chin onto his open palm. “That look that the two of you just gave each other.”

“No idea what you’re talking about. You sure that beer didn’t hit you a little too hard?”

“Ugh, shut up.”

Despite it being late August, a cool breeze greets the two of you when you step out of the bar. “It’s so nice out,” you comment, readjusting your boots as you hop onto the sidewalk. 

“Mmhm,” he agrees, bracing his arms behind his head as you make your way down the street. “So did you decide what you’re gonna write in your report?”

You glance up at him and make sure he can see you rolling your eyes. “Back to trying to butter me up?”

“Never! Just asking. If you wanna say I’m crazy and can’t be trusted, that’s fine. I can think of a few others who’d agree with you.” 

“Oh? Who?”

“Most people,” he laughs, stepping a little nearer and bumping against you, shocking you with the actual weight and warmth of his body again. As you continue on, you lift your hand to his arm and press the pad of your finger against his sleeve. This time, nothing bars your way so you run the digit slowly along his arm, smiling when he shivers and bats you away. 

“Stop that! Someone’s gonna see and think you’re taking advantage of me!”

The laugh that explodes from your chest at that mental image makes you stop dead in your tracks, arms lacing around your shaking stomach. Satoru scoffs at your bent figure and leans down, shaking his head at your guffawing.

 “The… the… fact that you… think that anyone… would think that… I–” 

“You’re lucky your laugh is so cute,” he muses, bracing his arms over your bent back, playfully pinning you down as he crosses his forearms.

“Hey!” you protest, squirming under his hold. “Let me up!”

“Tell me what you’ve written about me!” he threatens, chuckling as you squirm under him.

“I only said that Satoru Gojo is an absolute monster and shouldn’t be trusted with anyone’s future,” you cry out, overly pantomiming your overwrought expressions, peeking up at him from under his laced arms.

“Oh? Just that? Well, you’re right. So, fair is fair!” Satoru replies, slipping off of you so fast that you nearly tumble to the hard concrete. Half a beat later, he’s back in front of you and lifting you back to your full height, fingers soothing over your arms as he tugs you toward him. “Would it kill you to toss in a bit of praise? Talk about my undeniable prowess and skill? Wax poetic about my stunning efficiency? You know, make them think that I’ve won you over with my charms. After all, you can’t resist me, can you?”

“Knock it off,” you huff, doing your best to ignore how your breasts press against the flat planes of his chest. Then his fingers are under your chin, gently tipping your head up and leaning so close that his lips are inches from your own. 

“But what if I don’t want to?” he teases, his voice falling into a lower, hushed pitch before he relaxes his hold, letting you slip from his hands.

A distant quake dashes up your spine, but it’s not from the chill in the air. “Uh, you sure you didn’t sneak some shots under the table? The way you’re pawing at me, you’d think you were the one in the drinking contest.”  

“Nah, I told you, I don’t drink. Messes with my eyes.” Satoru pats his index finger against his white wrappings for emphasis.

“Mmm, the six eyes, right? Powerful ability, from what little I’ve heard of it.”

“Yeah,” he hums. “It’s a rare technique. Wanna see?”

You’d walked on, but once the question leaves his lips your feet swivel back, as if they have a mind of their own. He’s standing where he was, hands dug into the pockets of his pants, a lazy smile resting on his lips. The moonlight makes his hair shine, and the gleam is bright against the darkness of the street. The glow makes him look taller, imposing. He’s quiet as he waits for your answer and you take advantage of the extra time to mull over the strange man in front of you. 

He’s enigmatic; a force to be reckoned with, for curses and fellow sorcerers alike and, like most jujutsu users, a little crazy. Even knowing all of this, there’s something about him that’s drawing you in. It’s like the pull of a magnet. It tugs at the forefront of your mind and makes you step closer, wanting to see if you can unravel the puzzle that’s Satoru Gojo. 

“Fine,” you hear yourself reply, crossing your arms, steadfastly watching for his next move. “Go on. Let me see what all the hype is about.”

He grins and that mischievous look makes your heart beat race against your breastbone as yet another quake slips up your back. “Ready?” he asks, right thumb hooking under the fabric that covers his eyes. You nod once and the pad of his finger starts that short, upward, pull. 

He’s slow, painfully slow, in his unveiling. 

The smooth angle of his upper cheek peeks out, and he’s careful to roll up the white cloth as he goes. Then, right as he hits the groove of his lower eye, he stops, a frown pulling over his lips. “Mmm, I don’t know…” he contemplates, holding his thumb under his wrappings. “What if I don’t live up to your expectations? Can’t let you down. Not when you’ve been so patient. I know you’ve been wanting to ask, I can see it in your face. Every time we’d start an exorcism you’d look at me, like you were waiting, watching to see if I’d finally take off the coverings.”

Did you? 

Does it matter?

Do you want it to matter?

Flabbergasted by his all too true accusations and entirely eaten up with curiosity, you march up to him and wrap your fingers around his raised wrist, not noticing that you’re actually touching him and completely unaware of the alluring smile he flashes when your hand coils around his. “Ugh, come on! For once in your life, stop being such a tease! You’re never fair, always so… so pompous and… and–”

You’d shoved his hand upward as you began your preamble but as soon as the tightly wrapped cloth passed over his right eye you feel your breath leave your tensed body. 

His eyelashes are pale, the same ashen color as his hair, but they contrast beautifully with the lone eye that peers down. Beautiful? No, it’s more than that. It’s… it’s…

Truthfully, it’s indescribable and unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

It’s blue; but it’s not an ordinary shade. No, the color seems to meld and shift before your shocked gaze, drifting from hue to hue as the color deepens and lightens. Clouds. It’s like clouds passing over a summer sky. The brightness of the cerulean ensnares you, and you can feel your mouth go dry as you stare up at him. 

His eyes are stunning, perfect, and irresistible, hauntingly so.

“So, what do you think?” Satoru asks, pulling his wrist from your grasp and snatching your limp hand in his, twining his long fingers between your own. His skin is warm and you need to say something, anything, but your mind is stuttering, lagging miles behind as you fall headfirst into the overwhelming pull of his presence. 

Finally, you unstick part of your tongue. 

“They’re… uh… I don’t… ha… God…” You shake your head roughly and the familiarity of that motion slips out of the trance he’s placed you under. As soon as you can think again, you jerk your hand from his and blindly walk down the darkened street. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and you can’t stop nibbling on your lower lip. 

It’s not… this isn’t how this is supposed to go, you think, trying vainly to get the shine of Satoru’s eyes out of your mind.

“Never answered my question,” Satoru coos beside you, his long legs quickly catching up with you. “What’s wrong? You like em’ a little too much?… Or…” 

“They… they’re kinda creepy,” you blurt out, fingers curling into your palms. 

“Creepy!” he gasps, hopping in front of you and lifting up both sides of his wrappings, granting you a peek of both eyes. You do your best to avoid looking at him head on, turning and weaving from him, but he dances closer each time you shift. Damn it. His animated performance makes you exhale a quiet chuckle, and he takes your amusement as a sign to continue, constantly placing himself in your way with a broad grin. 

“Stop!” you plead, openly laughing at his sudden burst of silliness. “Now you’re acting like a creep! Satoru! Don’t! Stop showing them to me! You’re losing all of your appeal! Isn’t part of your charm the mystery? Actually, that’s likely all of your charm. Come on, stop it, there’s a cop on that street corner, he’s gonna think you’re drunk and harassing me!”

“Whaaat!” Satoru gulps, whipping his head around to look at the tired policemen that’s leaning against a dim street lamp. “Oh no! The police! Quick (Y/N), before he spots us!” His long fingers snatch up your pliant wrist and he tugs you into a dark alleyway. 

“Hey! Where are you taking me? Officer!” you call out playfully as you balefully follow him, dragging your feet along the dusty ground. “He’s over here! Help!”

“Oi! Knock it off! You wanna get me arrested?”

“Oh please, there’s no way that guy is about to follow–”

“Shit! Shhh, he’s coming this way! Come on!” The sheer force of his grip yanks you forward and you stumble after him. He takes the corner of the next alleyway and the pair of you dash along the wet patches that litter the broken concrete. He’s moving at a tremendous speed, but his feet barely make a noise as he glides over the grimy ground and it takes everything you’ve got to just hold on and keep up.  

A few twists and turns later, you can finally see the bright lights of the busy street that your hotel is on and you feel a heavy exhale of relief leave your burning lungs. Satoru skids to a halt right before he tumbles onto the safety of the sidewalk that rests a few paces ahead and pulls you beside him, grinning down at you as you try to catch your breath. 

“I think we lost him!” he beams and you suck your teeth as you bend over, hands bracing themselves against your knees. “There…there’s no… he wasn’t actually chasing us. Even if he was, I doubt he can catch up now….” your voice trails off as you hear a distant shout from the alleyway and the thud of heavy boots. 

No. There’s no way you think dumbly as you stare into the darkness, eyes searching for movement. 

“See? I told you he was on to us. He’ll see us if he comes this way. What if… Oooh, lemme try something,” Satoru’s broad hands grab at you and he swiftly maneuvers you against the damp brick of the nearest building, careful not to scrape your back as he pushes you against the rust colored siding. “Just play along, I doubt he’ll notice. Don’t give me that look, it’s your fault he’s following us!”

“My fault? I didn’t… oh–”

His lips are sleeker than you’d imagined. 

That first, teasing kiss he gives you already has you lifting your head, following the beguiling smoothness of his mouth, silently asking him for another caress. When he leans down your hands bunch into the dark fabric of his uniform and you can feel his smile against your slackened lips. He doesn’t touch you; his fingers don’t wander to the back of your jaw or the dip of your skull, instead he opts to flatten his angles against your curves, pressing until you can’t feel anything but him. 

The next kiss he gives you has a little more bite behind it, literally. 

His sharp nose bumps your cheek and his teeth worry against the plush swell of your lower lip, sucking and nipping until you’re snatching for his shoulders, searching for some kind of leverage. His mouth parts and right when you think he’s about to deepen his strokes and teasing pecks, he leans back and cocks his head at your flustered expression. “I’ve always wanted to try that,” he tells you, bracing one of his arms above your head. “It looks so fun in the movies.”

That cop could be right behind him, could be waiting for you both to stop your ridiculous routine and face the harsh gleam of reality, but you don’t care, not right now. 

Your hands had fallen from him when he pulled back, and the absence of his warmth makes you desperate to touch him again. But, when you snatch at the corners of his dark jacket, you’re met with that damned barrier. 

“Really?” you bemoan, licking at your kiss slick lips, trying again. “You’re the worst, you know that? You let me get used to the idea of having access to you and then just cut it–mmmph…” 

With a faint shudder of space, his barrier is lowered once more and his lips are back against yours. This time, his hands join in and he cups his fingers behind your ears, tilting you up as he glides his soft touch over you until you’re groaning. 

“Could have just told me you wanted more…” he rumbles in between his caresses, fingers tracing over the line of your jaw, your neck, and the slope of your shoulders. It’s like he can’t decide where he wants to go and you love the momentary burst of indecisiveness that’s broken over him. 

More, apparently, entails you asking him to come up to your room. 

He’d laughed when you’d mentioned it, your lips swollen and glassy from his attentions, and you’d almost taken it back, peeved by his genuine amusement at the idea, but then he’d plucked you into his arms and smoothed any lingering doubts with another flurry of nips and kisses. 

“This gonna make it into your report?” he grins, yanking his high collared jacket off and tossing it carelessly onto the floor. “I should,” you barb, pulling the long band of your hip pouch off, letting it clatter to the ground as your fingers work up the buttons of your own uniform. “Let them think that you’re abusing your status.” 

“Tch, me? Abuse my power? Never. Hey, I think you’re supposed to go slower with that. Don’t just yank all of your clothes off. You know, take your time, tease me a little,” Satoru chuckles, jerking his chin toward your busy hands.

“Oh? Wanting a show?” you ask, threading the last button and spreading the heavy material apart, revealing the thin shirt that’s obscuring his view of your breasts and stomach. “Well, that’s too bad, because taking all this gear off is never fun, or sexy for that matter…”

“Not with that attitude,” he hums, stepping closer, peeling his skin tight undershirt off and revealing the sleek planes of his rippled muscles. Most sorcerers are fit; and many boast beefier sets of pectorals and curving arches of biceps and triceps, but there’s something about the streamlined leanness of Satoru that’s making your hands itch. He’s not far, you could reach out for him, slip your fingers over the dips and beveled lines of his abdomen and follow that tempting strip of white that winds down the front of his pants, but that makes this too easy and there’s nothing about Satoru that’s easy.

“Mmm, that’s a new look.” His voice is distant to your ears, but the satisfied note that’s vibrating through his words makes you snap your head up, fingernails scraping against your palms. “You look like you wanna eat me (Y/N)… or maybe, taste is a better adjective. Awe, what’s the matter? Worried I won’t let you?”

You run your tongue over your lips and lift one hand, holding it steady and crooking your index finger at his brazen expression, pleased to see that cheeky smile of his falters a little. “Do me a favor, come here and take off that blindfold.”

“Ah-ha, so bossy,” he growls, voice sinking into that sinfully lower octave as he raises his broad hands to the back of his wrappings, unwinding the fabric and slowly advancing toward you. He stops when the tips of his toes are inches from your own, bracing his palms toward his face, holding the last strip across his eyes. “Wanna do the honors? Or are you expecting me to do all the work tonight?”

“As if. Besides…” you snicker, pulling two fingers to the remains of his blindfold and peeling it down, watching as his hair falls forward, slowly divulging the top of his forehead, pale eyebrows and that shock of avid blue that’s already gazing down at you. “I think you like when I tell you what to do, don’t you?”

“Ahh, looks like she figured me out,” Satoru groans, letting the ivory bindings fall to the floor, his hands already reaching for your waist. He doesn’t give you an opportunity to study him, but they’ll be time for that later, you reason, arms lacing around his chorded neck. 

This kiss is hungrier and his tongue immediately dances along the seam of your lips, pressing until you give in. It’s an awkward angle, but he expertly adjusts himself to you, slotting a warm palm against the small of your back and raising the other to curl into your hair, lifting you until it’s perfect. 

He’s greedy, devouring every inch you give him with a ravenous edge, but when you suck on his lower lip, he slips into something that’s clearly a little more unhinged. 

Suddenly, he’s the one who’s bending forward, trying to get as close to you as he physically can, hunching until you can trace your fingertips over the sharpness of his jaw. His teeth clink against yours as he snatches you up, and you can feel the sharp bulge of his length, the hardness grinding down your hips and stomach as he yanks you nearer. It’s hard to breathe, but he’s refusing to let you budge, lips avariciously seeking and pulling, leaving you with nothing else but the sheer enormity of his touch.  

“Fuck,” he gasps, finally letting you fall from his grasp, heaving out a few unsteady breaths. “You’ve got way too much on. Why do you still have so much on?” He plucks at your shirt but stops when he frees the edge from your pants, cerulean eyes bright in the moonlight. “Take it off,” he heaves, forehead pressing against yours, lifting his fingers from you. “Take it off for me, please?” 

You nod, a little taken aback by his sudden desperation, and he watches closely as you yank the thin material up, blue eyes shining as you unveil yourself. When the shirt passes over your breasts, he gives you a distracted kiss to the temple before he pulls away, freeing you to pull it over your head and sighing happily when it finally hits the floor, leaving you partially bare. As soon as your arms lower, he’s back against you, hands cupping at your hips, jerking you forward. “Whoa,” you gasp, bracing your palms against his chest. “Slow down. Let me get the rest of this–”

“No, no, no, no,” he chants, fingers smoothing up your spine. “Stop, for a second… just… just gimme a minute. You feel so nice. Your skin, it’s… it’s so warm and so fucking smooth, ahhh. Ohh, yes. A few more seconds (Y/N), just let me… It’s been so long since I’ve touched someone like this. I kinda forgot what it felt like and I don’t wanna let go, not yet.”

His head is bowed and that hauntingly blue gaze is covered by his winced eyelids, but he can’t seem to stop moving. Even as he asks you to hold still, to let him touch you, feel you, he keeps shifting his weight and burrowing his brow into the dip of your shoulder. 

“Can I take this off?” he asks, nails scritching at the clasp of your bra. “Please? Lemme take it off. Come on. I know you wanna touch me too, I saw how you were looking at me a minute ago. You’re so fucking cute, I can’t… ahaha, fuck, I sound insane. Look, I’ll slow down, I promise, just gimme a little more of you.”

When he mischievously snaps the strap of your bra against your shoulder blade, you can’t help but laugh at his infectious exuberance. His head lifts from you and he turns his attention to your neck, soft lips sucking and nipping at you until you’re wriggling in his hold. “Alright, alright! Just step back, Satoru! I’ll take it off,” you placate, knocking him away and huffing at the long face he gives you in return. “Here,” your fingers unhook the two pronged clasp and the delicate lace slips from your shoulders, falling to the carpeted floor with a hush. “Okay, that’s everything on the top half. Now what are–Ah! Satoru!” 

He takes full advantage of his superior speed and before you can blurt out a proper retort, he’s against you. 

His teeth worry at your earlobe and he immediately hoists you upward, seizing the lush curve of your ass and pulling you into his powerful arms, urging your legs to wrap around his trim waist. When you shakily oblige, he cups one lean arm under you, but the other drags you forward, scraping your newly bared breasts and stiffened nipples against the planes of his powerful pectorals. When he walks, you jostle in his grasp and coil your fingers around his neck, smiling when he moans contentedly at your reliance on his firm hold. “Damn,” he grunts, cocking his head so he can lick a wet circle into your pulse. “You feel fucking good (Y/N). So damn smooth, how are you so soft? God, I want more, I wanna feel everything.”

The front of his shins hit the edge of your bed and he tumbles you down, a dark grin spreading over his face as he watches you stretch out teasingly. He plants a knee into the soft bedding and braces both arms beside your head, leering over you. 

For a long breath, both of you study each other, eyes whisking over gleaming skin and the curves of your faces. Without the added heft of that blindfold Satoru’s snowy hair hangs loosely over his face, straight tendrils clinging to his brow, making him look younger, mellower, and so very handsome. Opting to take advantage of this lull, you reach up and thread your fingers into the silken strands.

When you reach the edge of his temple, you scrape your nails against his scalp, grinning as he lets a heavy exhale fall between his lips, cerulean eyes falling to a pleased half mast. “You’re trying to distract me,” he accuses, gliding a wide palm up your side. You shake your head and keep twirling his hair across your fingertips, marveling at his own softness. “No. I just like your hair.”

“That’s a first,” he snorts, cupping a palm underneath one of your breasts and pulling his thumb over the swelling bud of your nipple. “Here I am, trying to feel you up, and you’re too distracted by my hair to appreciate it. How rude.”

“Shut up,” you gasp out, arching into his hand as he tweaks and plucks at your pebbled tip. “You’re lucky I’m even… mmm… letting you do this.”

“Please. It was your idea, remember?”

Satoru lowers one of his braced arms, letting his weight fall heavily to one side as he keeps his deepening ministrations up. Your fingers are still buried in his hair when he drops his lips to your breast. You feel the flick of his tongue first, and the light tap has you bowing your back, gasping out a faint cry as his rough appendage continues to swipe and twirl over your sensitive flesh. Instinctively, your hands tug at his pearlescent strands and he tilts his head up, fixing you with a lazy stare. “That’s better, looks like I just need to refocus you, huh?” he muses, his words half garbled as he sucks your plump breast into his mouth. He keeps flicking his tongue over you as he suckles, lapping and nipping until you’re writhing under him. 

Once he’s satisfied, his free hand lowers to your grinding hips, forcing you to lay flat against the bed, switching his attention to the neglected twin, sucking and pressing open mouthed bites to your damp, shaking skin. 

A tight heat is coiling in your core and your thighs rub against each other, trying to cool the sharp pricks of arousal that are coursing through you. As soon as your hands fall from his head, Satoru picks up his pace, licking his sloppy tongue under your breasts and nibbling his way down your quivering stomach. “You’re still wearing way too much,” he scolds, fingers toying with the gold clasp of your pants. 

“It’s… oh… difficult to take things off when you… ah–won’t let me move more than two feet from you.” You’d meant it to sound a little firmer, but his constant touch is wearing down your focus, distracting you with brilliant flashes of his luminescent blues and whites. 

“Awe, (Y/N),” he whines, popping his hand against your hip, long fingers digging into your swelled curves. “That’s not fair. I told you, I always have my barrier up. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve touched someone, anyone? I mean really touched them?”

“Daw,” you sigh, propping yourself up on your elbows and peering down at him. “You poor thing. The all powerful Satoru Gojo, too honed and practiced with his neutral technique that he can’t even hold anyone’s hand.” 

“Ha, such a jerk,” he laughs, exaggerating a wounded frown. “I bare my soul to you and this is how I’m treated?” 

“Stop being so dramatic,” you scoff, yanking your legs from under him and popping up on your knees, hands reaching for him, curling under his jaw and urging him upwards. His eyes lock onto yours and the grin that tweaks the corner of his lips gives you an idea. “You said you wanted to touch more of me, right?”

As you wait for your answer, you scoot backwards, making him follow you across the bed, finally luring all of his sprawling form onto the cool sheets. “Mmhm,” he grunts, doing his best to keep close, teasing fingers inches from your skin at all times, always ready to stroke and cup each time you pause. When you hit the headboard you stop, studying his features, admiring the growing hunger that’s screaming its way out of his wide eyes.  

“You ever eaten a girl out?”

The question hangs for half a second and you can see his pupils dilate, the black threatening to swallow up the sky streaked blue of his eyes. Then, right when you’re about to tease him for his gaping mouth and flushed cheeks, he’s bowling past you, splaying out against the mattress and pulling you on top of him. 

“Fuck, that’s by far the best thing I’ve heard all day. Hell, all month. I’ll likely go to my grave thinking about that question. Ouch! Stop squirming, you’re kneeing me in the ribs.” 

“I wouldn’t… Satoru! I can’t breathe if you hold me like that!” His arms are like cables, all tensed muscle and raw strength as he pins you against his heaving chest, lips kissing and nipping at any part of you he can reach.

“Whatever,” he grumbles, sucking a bruise into your arched collarbone. “Hurry up and take your pants off. And don’t say you can’t do it like this, you’re a grade 1 sorcerer, you can do anything you put your mind to.”

“Is that going to be part of your teaching regime?” you smart, bucking your hips up so you can unclasp and wiggle your pants down your legs.

“Oooh, you’re right, that sounds good. Damn, I gotta start writing this shit down. That way I can have a whole list of euphemisms. Can you imagine? Molding young minds and helping them to stand up to all the bullshit that those so-called elders make everyone suffer under. All those rules and regulations, the stupid ins and outs they make us all jump through–”

“Hmm,” your voice falls to a gentle hum as you snatch at his chin, stilling his chatter with a single finger against his lips. “That sounds ambitious, but why don’t we take things a little slower, give that mind of yours something else to focus on?”

“Oh?” Satoru smirks, arching an ashen eyebrow at you. “Then you better get up here, before I get distracted again.”

“Don’t you mean down?”

“Huh, down? Ah, I see where the confusion is. Nah, I want you to ride my tongue, baby, so hurry up.” His long arms help him jerk you upward, easily lifting and enticing you forward. That early impatience is peeking out once more, and he pops his head up, nostrils flaring as your uncovered cunt drifts nearer. “Ah, God, I bet you’re so fucking wet. I can smell you from here. Come on, grab onto the headboard and let me get to it.”

Your legs shake as you plant them beside his head and you do your best to steady your pounding heart, pulling a thin stream of air through your parted lips. As soon as you touch the wood of the headboard, he’s gripping your thighs so tightly you’re sure he’s going to leave bruises behind. The tip of his nose is the first thing you feel, and it’s so close to your pulsing clit that you inadvertently cant your hips forward. “Ooh, sensitive, are we?” he crows, nestling himself under you, his breath hot against your dampened folds and wet curls. 

The following slick slurp of his tongue and the slow pass of his lips make your head tip back. He’s surprisingly gentle, slowly licking his way along your labia, pulling and sucking as he goes, teasing closer to that tight bud that’s waiting, just a little bit higher. 

At first, you worry about crushing him, too caught up in the placement of your weight to fall into the haze his mouth is begging you to slip into. But then his lips latch onto you, careful to mouth in time with the thud of your clit, suckling and squeezing until you can’t help but grind down, earning yourself a sharp groan that reverberates against your trembling skin. Using the weight of the headboard as leverage, you roll your hips over him, shifting in time with his well-placed rhythm. 

He’s good, but even the great Satoru Gojo isn’t perfect, not all the time.

When he nips at you a little too hard you shift back, depriving him of your wet heat, loving the petulant sighs and moans he gives you when you do. “Ah, sorry. Gimme a little more time,” he bargains, fingers sinking into the voluptuous curve of your ass, tying to urge you back over his glistening lips. “I’ll do better, (Y/N). Besides, I want you to cum for me. You taste so fucking good and I want it, I want all of it. Hey! Don’t be like that! I said I’d do better. Come back here.”

God, he’s such a brat. 

Every time you shift away he’s got another string of exasperated pleas ready, twitching his fingers and shaking his pale head at your impudence. “Less talking,” you moan, shivering as he delves his tongue into you, feeling his grin as your cunt squeezes around his intrusion. “Ok, ok,” he growls, using his brute strength to overpower your tensed legs. “Mmm, yes baby, ah–just relax, I’ll take care of you.”

Fuck, you think as you sink your fingers into his hair, spurring him on, this feels way too good.

When he captures your clit between his teeth and tweaks the tip of his tongue against you, you can’t help but fall to pieces. Your orgasm hits you like a battering ram, seizing hold of your muscles as it rolls through you and scattering a faint spark of spots across your vision. Satoru’s arms wrap around your blindly pistoning hips, helping you to sink closer, ravenously slurping and swallowing down each wave of arousal that hits his gluttonous lips. 

You’re still shaking when he pulls out from under you, flipping you bonelessly under him as his hands finally rid himself of his clearly tented and damp pants. Your eyes are just clearing when you catch sight of him, studiously following that trail of white curls to his impressive length. His cock is long, curving proudly toward his chiseled stomach and bubbling a clear string of pre-cum from the flushed tip. You do your best to sit up, but as soon as he catches sight of your movement, his broad palm is pressing you back. “Ah-ah,” he taunts, stroking a hand over his swollen cock and wiping the last of your slick from his face against his shoulder. “Keep still for me, ‘kay?’” 

His wide palms spread your legs apart, and he soothes his fingertips along your skin as he tugs a few heady groans from himself. “Fuck, you look so good. You’re so goddamn pretty. When you were sitting there at the bar and you looked so fucking happy I couldn’t take my eyes off you, you just looked so nice. Haven’t even known you a week, and I’m already obsessed with hearing that laugh of yours. You put some kinda spell on me, huh? That what this is?”

“Ugh, stop talking, Satoru,” you threaten, watching the steady ebb and flow of his clenched fist. His cock looks so smooth and you’re desperate to reach for it, to take hold of velvety flesh and see how long it would take for the world’s strongest sorcerer to be putty in your hands. 

He arches a pale brow at your blatant stare. “You want it?”

“I want you,” you correct, and the smile that breaks across his handsome face makes your heart squeeze. 

“Awe, how can I possibly say no to that?” he asks, gleefully lining himself up with your slit. Despite his early eagerness, he’s taking his time with this part, running the bulbous head of his cock over you, gathering up some of your gossamer strands, slicking himself with your dripping arousal. “Sorry,” he amends when he makes another pass along your folds. “It’s been awhile and I want to take it all in. I don’t wanna rush this.”

“It’s fine,” you smile, lifting your hands to pass them over his stomach, watching as his muscles ripple under your delicate touch. “Just don’t take too long or you’re not going to be on top for much longer.”

“That a threat or a promise, baby?” Satoru leers, finally slipping his tip past that first, tight ring of your entrance. Despite his bravado, his lips curl over his teeth and he lets out a low hiss as he sinks into you, inch by shallow inch. The pressure of his cock makes you arch, legs automatically wrapping around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back. He bows his head and his ethereal gaze falls behind his shaking eyelids as he thrusts forward, edging himself along until he bottoms out within you. Fuck, you feel so full.

The stretch of him makes you shake and you’re grateful he’s taking his time when he stills, lips smacking distracted kisses over your heated cheeks and parted lips, giving you time to adjust to him, and he to you. After a few steadying breaths, his teeth bite at the hollow of your throat and he pulls his hips back, grinning as your hands grasp into the sheets, a sharp whine escaping you. He echoes your sentiment, letting a gasping string of curses tumble from his shaking lips as he ruts forward again, one hand gripping at your right leg, prying you from his waist and slinging the trembling limb over his shoulder.

This angle has him pressing against something wonderful and sharp, and you can’t help but gasp out his name as he starts to methodically ram into it, over and over. You can feel him swell at the sound of your pleading moans and you savor the feel of his cock throbbing against your tender walls. “More,” you shudder, fingers trying to hurry his steady hips as he diligently cants into you. 

“In a minute,” he grunts, biting at your pliant skin, arms coiling under your back. “This feels too fucking good. Let me just… ah… fuck…” 

He slows, moving at a pace that sets your teeth on edge, and you thrash under him. Although his cock is digging against that aching place that’s sending dots and stars across your eyes, it’s not enough pressure. Licking your lips, you worm one of your hands between the two of you and pinch and roll your fingers over your clit, easing some of the tingling bittersweetness that’s pulsing over you. 

“Alright, alright, point taken,” Satoru chuckles, releasing your leg from his tight grip and re-lacing it around his hips. “How do you want it, baby? You want it fast? Or do you want it hard? Tell me.”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, peeking up at his enthralling cerulean, willingly ensnaring yourself in the intensity of his gaze. “I just want more of you.”

“Tch,” he hums, cupping a hand against your warm cheek. “Don’t say shit like that, I might end up falling for you.”

The laugh that echoes from your lips is swiftly cut off by a gasp as he abruptly ups the pace of his thrusts. He’s quick, but he’s still listening and watching for what you like. When you moan he’s right there with you, steadying his rhythm, and when you call out his name, he digs a little harder. 

It’s too much. It feels raw, like you’re scratching at a cut. Like there’s some itch that you just can’t reach. 

All of it, the feel of his meaty balls slapping against the sticky plushness of your ass, and those breathy moans makes your head spin. The intensity of the moment slips your fingers from your clit, but he makes up for their loss by grinding down each time he sinks into your cunt, scraping the hard edge of his pelvic bone against your throbbing bud. 

He’s good. Fuck.

You can feel the hazy slope of your orgasm approaching and you blindly arch up each time he careens downward, ensuring that he’s hitting right where you need him to. His movements start to hit a lull as he slips into his own fog of lingering pleasure, dipping his head to your neck and sighing contentedly when you kiss at his temple. But the tenderness of your touch must knock him out of his own whirring thoughts and he rewards you with another set of rapid fire thrusts, his lips pulling from your neck to seek out yours, kissing and nipping until you’re gasping for air. 

“Mmmm,” he moans, breath hot against your skin. “You feel so good and you’re getting so fucking tight. You gonna’ cum for me? One more time?”

You do your best to gulp out a reply, but the abrupt press of his calloused thumb against your clit makes you shake instead, a tingling rush of heady arousal racing its way up your spine. Smiling down at your awed expression, he lifts his fingers away and uncoils your legs from his waist, flinging them both over his broad shoulders, his knees settling forward as he continues to roughly thrusts his hips forward, driving you quivering body into the soft sheets. 

“You like that? Does it feel good? Does it? Fuck baby, I’m begging you, give it to me one more time. Can you do that for me? Can you cum for me? I want you to cum on my dick, ah, come on (Y/N), just once more, that’s all I’m asking. You can do it, can’t you?”

He’s rasping his questions against the shell of your ear, hands cupping at the side of your face, keeping you close as he races toward his own end, voice lifting into a frantic plea as he hurtles closer, desperate to feel your satisfaction rippling around him before he completely looses himself to the aching pleasure of your body. 

“I–” you choke out, arms lacing around his back, nails pressing half moons into his skin. He moans at the bite of your touch and tilts your hips upward, seeking more of you. 

That change is all it takes. 

The tip of his cock presses down, lifts, and then suddenly you’re seeing stars. 

“I’m… yes! Oh, fuck. Satoru, just like that. Don’t… don’t stop!” For once, he doesn’t tease. He just smiles, his face flushed, pale cheeks dusted a pleased pink and repeats the motion, careful to keep everything absolutely steady. The repeated push and pull, the warmth of your cunt, the feel of your skin, it’s making his cock throb and his heart race, but he’s determined to see you break. 

There. There it is. Fuck, you’re so pretty.

On an outward pull of his hips, your back arches and your thighs tense and he lets out a long growl, quickly breaking his fastidious rhythm and sinking back into you, gasping as you flutter around him. A new flush of wetness leaks out of your cunt and squelches between your pinned legs, dripping over the cleft of your ass.

He only lasts a few extra ruts, but the feel of him swelling and pulsing inside your tender pussy almost topples you over the edge again and you cling to him in the aftermath of his release, your heaving breasts catching against his flat pectorals. 

With a quick peck, he slowly lowers your legs and eases himself out of you, blue eyes widening at the sight of his softening hardness leaving your leaking pussy. “I don’t know which I like better,” he contemplates, leaning back on his haunches and slicking his index finger up the pooling dribble you’ve both left behind, spreading the spidery traces across his hand. “You wet and dripping for me or filled to the brim with my cum.” His lewd comment makes you huff out a low groan of exasperation and you roll off of the bed, shaking your head as you steady yourself and walk toward the bathroom. 

After a brisk rinse in the shower, you pad back into the darkened room, fully expecting to see an empty bed. You’re not sure why that’s your first thought, but something about Satoru doesn’t scream: I’m the kind of guy who likes post coitus cuddles. So the sight of him, bundled under your sheets, white hair poking just above the edge of the blankets, is a surprise.

“Oh,” you pause, dropping your towel on the floor as you openly gape at him. “You’re still here… I, well, I figured you’d take off.”

“Huh?” Satoru croaks, popping his head up, his face comically askew. “What kinda guy do you think I am?”

“Apparently the kind that stays over,” you snicker, digging around for your discarded bra and panties. 

He lets out a mock gasp, popping a hand against his cheek. “How could you say that! And after I gallantly brought you back here?”

“And fucked me,” you remind him, slipping your lacy underwear back on and re-adjusting the clasp of your bra.

“That too!” he qualifies, arching a pale eyebrow at your impassive face. “I’d say I was pretty generous. You did cum twice after all.”

“Oh my God,” you sigh, crossing your arms across your chest and perching beside the edge of the bed, shaking your head at the sprawling man under your covers.

“Come on, you wouldn’t seriously make me walk all the way back to the school at this hour. What if something happens to me? How could you live with yourself, knowing you kicked me out into the cold?”

“It’s summer,” you point out, rolling your eyes. “And you’re… what six foot three… and you have the legendary six eyes… I mean, I think you’ll be ok.”

“(Y/N),” Satoru begins, narrowing those bright blue eyes at you.

“Yeah?”

“Is it your habit to sleep with helpless guys and then kick them out? You’re so cruel.”

“Stop it,” you warn, snatching at the sheets and yanking them off of his naked form.

“No!” he protests, fingers clutching vainly at the thin cover. “Your bed is so nice! Come on, I’ll be good and I don’t snore. Well, not that I know of anyway…”

“Ugh, fine. I don’t have the energy for this and we have to be up in four hours. Just shush and scoot over.”

“Oh? Do you not have the energy because I fucked it out of you?”

“I’m sorry, were you wanting to stay the night?” 

“Alright, alright,” he splays his hands up in supplication and makes room for you, watching closely as you curl up beside him, a smile playing over his lips. “Hey,” he asks once you’ve closed your eyes, leaning close to your reposed form. 

“What?” you groan, cracking an eye open.

“Can I be the little spoon?”

“Satoru…”

“Mmhm?”

“Shut up.”

notes: hehe. i feel like he’d be so freaking chatty in bed. plus, how could i not make him a little touched starved? stop making me like characters that just wanna be held universe, gosh :3c

[captain-aralias]

30, 40 and § (if you haven’t already answered these!)

oooh, i haven't! i also don't even know what § is when it's at home. going to look it up now...

ok, it's "a typographical character for referencing individually numbered sections of a document" and may also be used to reference paragraphs. i guess that's why i don't use it..

30. Do you like writing for prompts, challenges etc?

yes!! that's why i've got THREE FICS for challenges i'm working on right now, and i also run @carryonprompts a tumblr specifically for prompts  in the hope of getting good prompts from other people, that's how much i like writing for prompts and challenges.

the kind of prompts i'm not as into are ones where it's just a word, or the challenge is to write lots of things because i have forgotten how to write short things and i don't write that quickly, so i always see COC go by and think 'alas, i wish i was part of that', but i know it's not right for me, or i could be part of it. and i also don't really like fests where i have to come up with my own idea with no constraints, because i can do that anyway and the bad thing about fests, at least in our fandom, is that they can drive traffic down, rather than up.

so - i love fests, i love prompts, but i choose the ones i do. @co-wipadoption and @carryon-reverse-bang were both perfect for me, as they both insist on me writing something quite specific and possibly quite different from what i'd normally write. plus i love being in the position of choosing - i really enjoyed that for CORB. which of these many good ideas do i want to write the most. and there was art, which is lovely. almost all writers i know are feral for art, it is just a fact.

40. Favorite story you've written? (in general or for a specific fandom)

for CO, it's probably still The Mage's Heir, although it's getting quite old and non-canonical now.

more recently, i have loved Classroom Politics - possibly even more than RE. maybe in part because its the earlier version, and i tend to like the first time i do things, plus i just think it's pretty good!

§) A fandom or ship you wish had more fic for you to read

ok, so my first thought is....... i kind of wish baz/lamb was more of a thing. it's not that i want them to be together, but i've basically read all the ones that do exist. at the moment i feels really transgressive to go there at all, i'd like it to just be a normal ship. and i'd probably still read most of it. (except like, baz and lamb buy curtains or something, but to be honest, i would also read that, as long as it was by the kind of person who would write baz/lamb right now and knows it's kind of weird and bad but also good.) (i'm not into lamb as an abusive boyfriend background character, though. he should be a proper character who just doesn't care about other people's feelings.)

back in blake, i really wanted more avon/soolin - which is probably nothing like baz/lamb really, but now i've connected them, i feel like maybe it is. because avon is like baz, and soolin is like... a cooler version of avon, who is not actually romantically interested in him, but might be willing to fuck him. meanwhile by the time avon meets soolin, he's already totally crazy (IMO) about blake and drowning under his own problems...

but i also would have read almost anything in b7 as long as the fundamental principle of avon being in love with blake was upheld, he can bang anyone he wants while blake is missing and he's making bad choices all round. so, too - AU canon divergence, baz never confessed to simon, lamb never betrayed baz... (this will not be in the fake fiance fic, don't worry. we don't have time for this, and it's a shared project so i wouldn't put this in there.)

anyway, we're getting too deep on this one. baz/lamb curtain fic where baz is in love with simon, you get me?

oh - and the other day i was talking about baz/agedup!humdrum angst. i'd like there to be more of that, too.

that got weird. but you've written lots of good malmage, so i think it's ok.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

==

from this ask list

[fieryhonesty]

“Omg I’m melting here. Thanks to my friend for giving me this idea.”

Words: 1318

Genre: fluff, modern AU, gn!reader

The long week has finally ended. The last customer has left the bar and you can close it. Clean all the tables and prepare them for the next day. Wiping out glasses and plates in the kitchen. As it's only you it will take a while to do all of this. All your colleagues are either having a day off or have already ended. You offered to be the last one, closing the business.

You didn't mind it as it's just a Sunday and the restaurant is closing at 10 pm instead of usual midnight. Lately you have been taking extra shifts just to make extra cash. It's not like you are struggling with money, it's quite the opposite. You can be sure your beloved would support you in need. 

But you wanted to make extra money and buy him something. Still being quite uncertain what it will be. Maybe something practical such as a new coat. Something that he would use everyday and think of you.

Just dreaming of the idea makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. Speaking of which, you didn't eat anything yet. It was quite embarrassing to serve food and drinks to customers while your belly was growling. Once you come home you will raid the fridge and won't leave anything untouched.

Last night you made a salad so there will be this and you could add some bread and salami. Just everything you can find. You are hungry and don't care what you will eat. You are food motivated right now! Cleaning the last table and once it's done you can turn off lights and get home.

Jogging through the night city's streets. Avoiding dark alleys. Maybe you should have call Diluc to pick you up but you are not sure if he is awake. Your shifts are kinda everywhere. One day you have a day shift next two days night shift or whole week night ones. Which simply creates this bad situation where you can barely see each other. Since he always leaves to work early morning and comes in afternoon. 

Yes, he waits for you. Says ‘welcome home’ and lil cuddles but then you go to sleep. There's nothing much to it. And as you are taking extra shifts lately you really see him just for a few moments before falling to bed. Sometimes he was already asleep whereas you quietly snuggled next to him. Maybe he would briefly wake up, recognizing the second half of the bed is cold no more.

Pulling you closer before drifting back to sleep. This little act of his makes you always weak. He wants to keep you close no matter what but your work times are against it. Unless you change jobs and find something more free evenings friendly.

It took you over one hour to get home. Meaning with all of that cleaning and walking. You look across the block of apartments, the lights are off. You were right he is probably sleeping already. Sighing for yourself and walking inside the building. Waiting for the elevator to take you up to your floor. 

Carefully opening the lock, you don't want to wake him up as he is a light sleeper. Sliding inside and fishing for your phone to use it as a flashlight. You could have turned on lights but you can't be bothered now. You are hungry and the fridge is close. You are so hungry that you can smell something yummy in the air. 

Well just if you knew. Diluc was doing his best tonight. Cooking your favorite food, preparing it on the table, lighting up candles. He was impatient and nervous. Waiting for you to finally open the door to the kitchen.

He never been into overly romantic stuff. Yes he would buy you a heart shaped gingerbread with words 'I love you'. But for that you will have to make puppy eyes. Rather than buying you silly stuff he would do something that would help you to relax. 

Cooking the late dinner was one of those things. His cooking is not something extra but he tried his best, he always does when it's for you. He is aware that you might not find it really fancy, the taste might not be the same as from your mother. But there's no way back now. The food is done, candles are lit and you are in the next room.

As soon as you open the door you are greeted by the light of the candles on the table. Next thing you notice is Diluc standing nearby the door. Something is odd about him and it takes you a whole ten seconds to realize what it is. He has your apron around him. You don't know if you should say 'aww' or giggle. He looks adorable. His crimson hair is tied loose, hanging over his left shoulder.

"Hello?"

You greet him, kinda confused what's going on. You thought he was asleep and what’s with the candles?

"Welcome home, uh..." He is nervous, a lot. And nobody can blame him for it. "I... I wanted to... you looked tired lately and you know we barely saw each other. So I thought of making you dinner for tonight, it might not look the best but it tastes good, I guess?"

You jump at him, wrapping arms around his torso. Snuggling into his chest, making cute noises. You are unable to say anything. Everything you try to say just gets mixed together. Diluc has made all of this for you? You can't believe it. You are about to cry.

When you compose yourself and look up at him. You see how much he is nervous but trying his best to wait for your response. 

"Diluc, I... I don't know what to say. I'm touched. I feel like crying but also I'm extremely happy and want to keep hugging you like this. And oh my, that apron looks dangerously hot on you!"

You pull away to take a proper look at him. He should take it on more often. You can't pinpoint the exact reason but it looks way too good on him. 

Diluc's cheeks turns red. He has forgotten about the apron. He used it while cooking as the food was bubbling a lot. Not wanting to have dirty clothes. And just now when you make remarks about it he feels embarrassed. But also happy. You seem to be enjoying yourself. 

"I... uh, thank you, Love. Sorry for borrowing it."

"It's alright. You could do it more often. You know as a surprise! I no longer feel tired, thanks to you. I was considering writing to you if you could pick me up but... I thought you will be sleeping already."

You admit while playing with the loose hair on the side of his face. Sometimes gently brushing his cheek with your finger tips. He puts his hand on yours, looking down into your eyes.

"You could have. I'd gladly drive for you. We would need to warm up the food anyway."

"Oooh! Food! What food?"

You are excited. You know Diluc can cook and you love his cooking. But it's usually you who cooks before going to work.

"The stew you love so much~"

He says as he leans closer, eyes half lidded as he looks into your eyes. He’s barely a few inches away from your lips.

"Oh god. You are the best. I love you, you know that?"

You grin as you kiss his lips, pulling him closer. His hands are immediately on your sides, exploring. You are melting under his touch. It's been a while after all. Before he gets carried away by his touch starvation he pulls away. You pout at him. He gives you apologetic smile.

"First we will feed you, then take a shower."

"What’s next?"

He smiles at your eagerness. Kissing your forehead.

"That's a secret."

[koushisun]

what kind of wedding would they have? bnha boys edition!

a/n: (i totally posted this before i was done writing it i am,,, dumb)  i didn’t end up doing all the boys, just the ones i had strong ideas for, sorry about that! if y’all want more detailed hc’s for any of these characters, or even ones i didn’t do here, just shoot me an ask! (i’ll probably make a pt. 2 with the girls!)

p.s. i haven’t read the manga, so all of my characterizations are based on the anime!

BAKUGOU: while i think that bakugou would want a fairly grand wedding, i think that the guest list would be somewhat exclusive. he would probably invite his close friends, maybe even all of 1-A, but don’t expect too many people. he does want everything to be perfect, though! may seem a little uninterested in wedding planning at first, but if you even DARE mention hiring a wedding planner? well, just give him your ideas and he’ll get ‘em done lol

MIDORIYA: he would have a pretty classic wedding! i think he would want a smaller guest list as well, though maybe not as exclusive as bakugou’s. would definitely invite all of class 1-A! would probably be at like, a church or smth, though if his s/o didn’t want that he would probably have an outdoor wedding (probably a beach wedding!) the reception is pretty chill, this i can def see being outside! 

TODOROKI: oooh big fancy wedding!! (it’s a perfect excuse to spend his dad’s money sjksjkskl) anyways, he would probably have a big indoor wedding, maybe at a church if that’s what his s/o wanted. i could see his dad being pretty adamant about inviting a lot of people, but i think shouto would win out, ending up with a medium-sized guest list. reception is also indoors, 

KIRISHIMA: he wants to have a classic wedding, he’s somewhat old fashioned, but will go with what his s/o wants! the wedding itself may be pretty classic and chill, but i think the reception is where his planning really gets to shine! he’ll probably talk bakugou and the others into playing at least one song for the reception, he thought it would be a fun time 🥺

KAMINARI: ooh a big flashy wedding!! not super fancy per say, but just a lot of fun!! the reception is literally a giant party, he got a live band and everything! may or may not use his quirk intermittently to make cool effects lmao

SERO: probably a pretty lowkey wedding, at least that’s what he was hoping for. (i believe in latin king sero so get ready) ends up having a TON of people there, like, half of these people he hasn’t even met in person before lmaooo it’s all just extended family (aunts, uncles, 2nd and 3rd cousins, friends of those 3rd cousins, etc) on the up side, there are a lot of wedding gifts lmaooo anyways, its probably in a church or smth. the reception tho? you’re not even ready!!!! so much food, like literally so much food. tamales, empanadas, rice, beans, ceviche, you name it and it’s there! lots of music and dancing for sure! overall, it’s just really lively!!

IIDA: ooh a super traditional wedding for sure! he would want things to be very formal, though he might be convinced to loosen up a bit at the reception! wedding would probs be in a church or another equally fancy/proper space. has a medium/large guest list, mostly family and friends. 

TOKOYAMI: small wedding, maybe outside? not a beach wedding tho, more like a small clearing in the woods. reception is pretty chill, lots of cool music! not overly formal but still makes sure the focus is celebrating the wedding

AOYAMA: LITERALLY THE BIGGEST WEDDING EVER!!! i mean, just let your imagination run wild here lmao it’s just so fancy (probably lots of glitter at the reception too)

MIRIO: probably wants a big wedding, though it doesn’t need to be particularly fancy. if that’s what his s/o wants, then he’s willing to go all out, but as long as the actual marriage happens, he’s happy :) will invite tons of people though, so be ready.

TAMAKI: a very small wedding, for sure! i mean, we all know how nervous he gets! would invite his close friends and family, and would really want you to take your rsvp seriously (he won’t mind if you forgot to, but it will make him feel a whole lot better to know exactly who is going to be there) he probably doesn’t want a crazy reception, but he is most certainly looking forward to the wedding cake!

a/n: ok i think that’s it for now!!!! i just realized this is the first bnha thing i’m posting, so i hope its good lmao remember, requests are OPEN! (pls i’m so bored pls give me something to do)

[depizan]

I was thinking about the post I reblogged about the loss of the Alliance in SWTOR, and some of my other disappointments with how faction is handled in the game, and how faction based MMOs in general tend to get stuck in this kind of "eternal conflict" mode. (Not that factionless MMOs don't get stuck in their own kind of weird "eternal conflict" mode, too. Look at Guild Wars 2 and the growing list of things that have tried to destroy Tyria.)

But there are stories that lend themselves to a faction model, and SWTOR does have - or does begin with - one of those. It's just that with no prospect of whatever conflict divides the factions ever being resolved, you have a weird permanent stalemate situation, kind of. The Sith Empire will never win, because that would make Republic players unhappy. The Galactic Republic will never win, because that would make Empire players unhappy. No actual solution to the conflict can ever be found because then it would be game over. (Also, no real faction shifting because how would you code that?)

Except... maybe none of that is true. There are games that have faction shifting of a kind coded in. Think of all the minor factions in World of Warcraft, some opposed to one another, some just independent. Sure, those faction shifts are mostly achieved with some kind of grind, but it does prove that mutable factions are codeable.

This might even solve the problem of the Smuggler and the Bounty Hunter being tied to specific factions when that leads to some very odd story stuff, particularly outside of each class story. It suggests a way to handle factional grouping and third faction classes without making those factions "better" because all flashpoints are available to them.

Here is Mac's theoretical redesign of SWTOR with a different handling of factions and playing into the story focus that is the game's best quality.

Republic and Empire each get three classes, Smuggler and Bounty Hunter are Underworld (a third, neutral to the others faction). Since the galaxy is supposed to be under a peace treaty - the Treaty of Coruscant - you design the game with flexible faction tagging and lean in hard to the Cold War set up.

You have degrees of faction, just like those minor factions in WoW. I'm going to borrow the middle part of WoW's faction set up for this. Theirs runs Hated - Hostile - Unfriendly - Neutral - Friendly - Honored - Revered - Exalted. We just need the middle chunk, from Hostile to Friendly. Hostile is typical enemy mob: bar is red, it will attack you on sight. Unfriendly is an orange bar, but will not fight you unless you attack. Neutral is a yellow bar, again, will not fight you unless you attack. Friendly is typical allied mob: bar is green, etc.

Imperial players can go to Coruscant, and Republic players to Dromund Kaas, but everything is Unfriendly to them, they can't buy anything (except maybe at the spaceport?), and there are no quests available to them. Underworld players start out one tick up at Neutral and have a few merchants and quests available. Ones that it makes sense would be available to random people. (This is to balance out Underworld space starting at Neutral to Pubs and Imps.) And, obviously, Pub space starts out Friendly to Pubs and Imps space Friendly to Imps. (Though I would be slightly tempted to have Korriban be neutral to the Agent class because, as a non-Force-Sensitive you don't really belong there.)

(As you can see, we're basically using a game mechanic to underline the state of galaxy. We can also set things so that people can't go fuck things up for their fellow players by coding it so that if you just go attack people on the opposite faction capitol, you get blipped to hostile and squashed like a bug.)

Now, we write the game like there is actually a Cold War happening. This means missions for Imps and Pubs that send people into "enemy" space (not, to start with the capital or Force User planets, though) where they have to accomplish their missions without attracting the attention of the other faction. We can take advantage of instancing to allow for diplomatic incidents, like thinking "well, they can't report I'm here if they're dead," without triggering the anti-trolling splat mobs. This is also where we introduce some side quests that give people the opportunity to work on becoming to Neutral with the opposite faction.

Smugglers and Bounty Hunters are off doing Underworld stuff, with some options to take quests that benefit the Republic or the Empire. (Giving them the chance to work on becoming Friendly with one or both factions.)

All class stories get written so that there are several potential outcomes. We're going to use the Agent story as a model here, and basically set it up so that everyone has a story line that ends with them still loyal to the faction they began with, now Underworld/Unallied, or loyal to the opposite faction. This gets paired with the ability for characters to keep doing things to make the other faction like them better and you're setting up defections or the decision to go neutral with mechanics and story.

You use the Cold War setting to ramp up general tension. Have more missions like that one on Republic Hoth where you can work with some Imperials. Or the times where a Sith Warrior can use Republic soldiers to their advantage. So the whole base game has this good overlay of people wanting peace and people wanting to go back to war (on all sides!). This lets you really flesh out the factions, and the good and bad people in them. Have a more positive sort of Gray Morality going on.

As far as Flashpoints go, you re-write The Black Talon/Esseles for proper Cold War subtlety. I think we want to use the intro flashpoints to give people a better idea of the kind of proxy conflict stuff, where you might be fighting what appear to be a third party (like pirates), but you get info (of the non provable kind) that they're working for the Empire/Republic. And maybe come up with some kind of mechanic where party members can get special communications based on faction. Like, the main (everybody) cut scenes for the Esseles talk about it being pirates that are attacking them, but the Jedi/Trooper characters get a quick comm call that the pirates are probably working for the Empire and after a particular person.

For all the shared flashpoints, you tweak them so they are truly shared. One queue for everyone, we still need to work out exactly how we're getting the different factions their special flavor bits, but there's more of that here. And maybe a kind of saboteur mechanic for things like what to do with the missiles on Cademimu, so that they can still be launched at a fleet for a DS option, but it's not in-character obvious that someone did it.

We can still have some Empire and Republic specific flashpoints, which we might allow Underworld characters who are Friendly with the right faction to do. (Or maybe not if we're keeping the ones we have. They've got a bit of a secret mission vibe. Maybe we add a fun treasure hunt flashpoint for the Underworld folks.)

The end of the base game becomes the Cold War going hot because of Revan (and let's say it's not the Republic at large backing him, but a smaller group within the Republic that's okay with his plan). Now we get proper fall out from someone wanting to commit mass murder, we get a good climax, and we can shift from writing eight class stories to three-ish main stories with class and faction related flavor bits. You'd have those fighting for the Republic (ex-Empire characters could get good flavor bits about fighting their old allies and some suspicion from their new ones - a suspicion ex-Underworld characters would also get), for the Empire (again, joined members get some good flavor bits), or who are with the Underworld now.

First expansion is the war, maybe with some of what we used to have in Chapter Three going on. I'm also kind of tempted to weave in some actual foreshadowing for Zakuul here. I'm not keen on Space Voldemort or the time skip, but other parts of those expansions seem worth trying to save. But maybe we have the player characters working with Lana and Theron like in the Revan expansion, but it's about hints that there's something bad coming instead.

Next expansion, Zakuul attacks, things go super to shit, Lana, Theron, some people from Zakuul and the player character(s) form the Alliance. Oooh, wait, lets go ahead and keep the Vitiate/Valkorian thing, and have killing the Emperor be the end of the first expansion (because he wants to eat the galaxy - he's gone mad, but the Empire as a whole won't acknowlege it and are following him off a cliff, the Republic isn't seeing him and the Empire as separate, even evil characters live in the galaxy, etc). Now, Zakuul invades because when you kill Vitiate, Valkorian keels over. Whoops.

(Zakuul is the backup plan. If he can't destroy the galaxy as Vitiate, here comes the uber-Empire! You just managed to off him, but the uber-Empire gets fired at the known galaxy anyway.)

Now we have one story going, with different flavors depending on the characters relation to the three old factions. Kind of like we do in the existing game. And we avoid bumping the player character up to a ridiculous level of authority by making them part of the leadership of the Alliance instead of the leader. Keep them more in line with the base game power level.

Not quite sure where we go from here, but basically you have this kind of flowing faction thing going through the game that meshes well with the story.

I don't know. Mostly I wanted to work out how you could do something more interesting with faction.

[kdtheghostwriter]

The Dust Up in Jaku

You sure are!

Okay, housekeeping first. I don’t often go here. In fact, this is my first proper visit. I’m caught up with the manga entirely to be clear. I just don’t always go looking for feedback. This blog is miscellaneous, tailored mostly to my whims at the time, but it’s known primarily for its monthly posts on Shingeki no Kyojin. That series is ending soon. These posts have been for practice primarily. A way for me to keep my writing chops warm for other projects. They’ve been incredibly helpful in that regard. I’m not sure yet what I’ll do to supplement that practice after the series conclusion. I don’t see myself doing monthly meta posts anymore. I started doing One Punch Man write ups a couple years ago and doing the occasional meta for big plot developments is probably the ticket. But then there’s BNHA.

My Hero Academia is a bit more…shall we say ‘aggressive’ in its storytelling. That’s what I’ve seen in this latest arc anyway. I’m a fan. And I figured, hey, I can dip a pinky toe in the fandom for a bit. So, before reading any further, please note that this will read as the perspective of a reader that has one eye on the story and doesn’t spend a great amount of time in the discourse.

Okay so let’s start with the obvious or what should be the obvious. Bakugo isn’t dead just yet. If for no other reason than Gran Torino getting spiked by Shigaraki only to supply a sassy quip moments later. You don’t die in a shonen series without permission. Besides that, though, no one I’ve seen seems to be asking the important question here.

What is All For One’s idea?

We saw him reach out to Tomura who was himself on the verge of death and took full control of his body. Those telltale black tendrils have seldom caused bodily harm on their own and there’s little evidence to believe they’d start now. We then can make one of two assumptions.

Quirk theft: AFO has the ability to steal and redistribute quirks and Shigaraki made clear that stealing One For All was his main goal in this fight outside of surviving. Bakugo is one of the few people who know about this secret war and he more than anyone there would recognize that losing OFA to Tomura would be in the nicest terms a disaster.

Forced Quirk Activation: Considering that Kacchan is a walking napalm bomb, this is another possible disaster. Using a massive explosion to escape the battlefield at this moment has some very “I’ll get you next time, Gadget!” energy.

And Tomura has to escape this. I’ll explain that later. But first I must laugh.

No, that’s not Garou after his first hour in the Monster Association. Tomura has been annihilated over the course of this fight. He’d probably be dead two or three times over if it weren’t for his fancy Deadpool Healing Factor which itself wouldn’t be working if Eraser Head wasn’t out of commission.

Shout-outs to Aizawa by the way. There’s a reason Tomura stopped in the middle of the battle to tell him how cool he was.

Anyway, more to the point: Shigaraki can’t beef it here. Don’t get me wrong, as tragic as his story is, there really is no other option currently than to destroy him. The only other course of action is to say, “Please, Tomura, don’t make this entire city and the innocent people living there disappear into dust.” Which…yea. On top of that, he’s the series antagonist and the clear foil for our hero Deku. Narratively it just wouldn’t make sense to have him climb that mountain before he’s ready. And he’s still not ready. His arms are thrashed yet again from his current onslaught.

For anyone having trouble visualizing this, imagine Shiggy as a red rubber ball and Deku is a paddle, smacking him repeatedly. I have this great picture in my head of the news chopper zoomed in on Deku as he calls out every state and major city in the contiguous United States. Jokes aside, the art is phenomenal. This panel in particular really hammers home the aforementioned duality like so many haymakers to the face. The damage is stacking up faster than his regeneration can supply but All For One has stepped in to take the reins, surely saving his neck but that isn’t the only reason Shiggy will see his way out of this spot.

Yeah! Remember him? This big fucker is still on his way. And he’s got the League of Villains in tow. Why is that detail important?

The only thing more important than a major plot event like this is the aftermath. You can easily develop your characters through the way they react to the events that occur to them. Somebody has to break it to Tomura that Twice is gone and I don’t envy the one who gets that job.

Also…lol okay, I don’t wanna do the trolly thing of “oooh Dabi’s a Todoroki!” but c’mon man Dabi’s a Todoroki. I’ve barely paid attention to this subplot and even I know that. Shonen series are by their nature very melodramatic and it would only make sense for such a massive bombshell to be dropped now, in the midst of life-or-death struggle, with direct implications for the Number One Hero and his children – one on each side of the law. Point is! None of that can happen if Shigaraki bites the big one so I’d expect the dusty lad to keep kicking for now.

The same goes for Bakugo, although, he may have early retirement in his future. The main reason Kacchan can’t die here is because, despite what you may think of him as a character – and I’ve seen enough discourse to know that many many people are not fans, such is your right – having a teenaged bully redeem himself by sacrificing his life is a bit much. Especially when you consider this little nugget.

All Might has him pegged here. I would never endorse someone telling another person to kill themselves even when done ironically but Katsuki was a child and children say any manner of dumb, reckless things. More than that, children lash out when they’re scared, and nothing scared him more than being surpassed by Midoriya. All Might goes on to point out that Bakugo earnestly helping with Izuku’s training is his way of atoning for his past behavior. I agree with that stance and I think it’s more than enough. He knows he was wrong and more recently he’s discovered that he knows he wants no harm to come to Deku. Bakugo learned a big lesson in this chapter; by extension, Deku must learn a lesson as well.

Then there’s this geek.

Disclaimer: I don’t hate Endeavor so much as I’m apathetic towards him. He’s the Number One hero by default and it shows throughout this arc. Even here, we see the rookie Kacchan barking orders at him and Shoto and coming up with a pretty solid plan to finally end this damn fight. It didn’t work, but that has more to do with outside interference than inexperience, and it’s not like Endeavor was rapt with ideas to begin with.

I will defend him slightly, however. Some people have gone so far as to call him useless in this fight and I wouldn’t. Shigaraki got a massive buff even if he’s only at 75% capacity. Enhanced speed and strength, plus a healing factor means he has a threshold that Endeavor just can’t overcome. The days of one guy taking on the Final Boss is long past gone. Even so, this must be pretty mortifying for a guy so obsessed with climbing the ladder. His second real test as the top hero and he gets his ass kicked for an hour or more by a shaggy kid who forgot his lip balm at home. LOL is what I’m saying.

Thanks for indulging that aside. Back to Deku. The very first panel of this chapter is a nurse warning him that repeated injuries could result in him losing the use of his arms. Naturally, this follows with Deku smashing Shigaraki in the face five or six times in a row. The combination of Float and Black Whip is keeping the villain suspended in the air where his disintegration    quirk can’t reach the support team below. A fact that Deku points out when Bakugo shouts at him to disengage. This is a great bit of dramatic tension, because neither one is wrong. Izuku’s body is falling apart. I mean, Tomura’s is too, but Tomura can lowkey ignore that and if he reaches the ground, everyone is screwed anyway.

This plays into Bakugo forming the plan with the Todorokis in the first place and then intercepting AFO’s attack on behalf of the helpless Deku. He sees One For All as a cursed power, but he’s smart enough to know that this power is the only chance they have of winning. He then saves his friend to help them win.

Now we come to the bit that has me more interested than even Kacchan’s fate. That being Izuku’s reaction, both in the moment and after the battle is done. As previously noted, Deku is not in less danger now. He’s emptying the tank right here despite possible long-term damage to his body.

The implications of that statement are terrifying. More so coming from a teenaged boy that hasn’t even made it through a third of his life yet. The legacy of OFA is dark and bloody. It was Bakugo who pointed out that the previous holders of the super strength quirk all died young – all murdered at the hands of Tall, Dark and Faceless. Toshinori would have suffered the same fate if it weren’t for a time sensitive cocktail of rage, survival instinct and adrenaline. Deku is sipping from that same cocktail right now and he’s in better shape than All Might was (barely) but it’s clear that he cannot 1v1 a boss with a replenishing health bar. Perhaps if he could sustain an attack without his limbs exploding like Squidward after too many Krabby Patties? Oh well.

My Hero Academia is an origin story. The story of the hero Deku and his journey to number one. With that in mind, we know he can’t lose but he doesn’t necessarily have to win. Not here at the very least. I have no clue how this arc resolves itself but finding out is going to be much fun.

[faithylilac]

The Party Party Part 6

So... there was a bit of a situation... a very bad situation. Not a terrible situation, Faithy and Echo are doing quite lovely.

“Well we wouldn’t have been in this mess if I was the party leader!” Dax shouted at the shorter god. She simply huffed and started tapping her foot.

“Well I didn’t see you throwing any ideas around!” She looked around the dark cave they were in, double checking for a way out. “You twat” she said off handedly.

Dax’s eyes widen, sure what he said was rude... but not to deserve that.

What happened between the two residential celestial beings?

There they were, five papers spread across the floor, each with a different task. Cj explained that they decided to pick up side jobs to do on the way to wedding. Ash and Jo had realized they would be a week early if they went straight there, so this was a perfect idea.

Faithy just shrugged her shoulders. She wasn’t party leader anymore so if anything happened, it wasn’t her fault.

“Wait which one is first on the list?” Dax finally decided to pipe in, as he knew he was free of compasses.

Carter held up their’s proudly, “we’re going after this thing called the uh....” he quickly flipped the paper around to read, “Mortem Spera... I don’t know if I said that right.”

“What is it exactly?” Ash asked. Carter read some more and shrugged. Apparently no information on it... weird.

Carter on the other hand, was having a tougher time that the two gods. Both of Ash’s and Jo’s cloaks were ripped to shreds. So their ears were out and the open, reminding Carter plenty of what they truly were.... Nyah Nyah kawaii anime cat people.

Jo had on a large hat, thank Gjhar feiiled, but her tail was sticking out. Ash on the other hand was a free cat boy, disgusting...

Carter was scurrying to look for a blind fold, make it out of anything... But there was hinderance to that plan.

“So Carter... Do you like oranges?”

Carter pulled all of his mental strength to not freak out that this cat girl was speaking to him. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes tight. “Why?” Jo just blinked at him. “I don’t want to answer that” carter continued. “I swear it’s not a deez nuts joke.” Jo replied. Carter kinda just roll his eyes but not, being that they are closed. “Kinda... but that’s so random— I’m confused.”

Jo giggle, “I just wanted to know if you liked oranges.” She replied. “I don’t hate oranges.”

“Anyway, I guess you can ask questions about me, or I can ask more about you— whatever you are more comfortable with.”

Carter shrugged, walking past her to pick up something he spotted once he opened his eyes. It was a clothe that was sticking out of rubble. “Uhhhh...” The nymph examined the clothe, it was embroidered with strange writing and lots of stars.

“Ash, you’ve studied a few ancient languages right?” Jo looked over him to find him staring at a large tapestry on the other part of the cave.

“No, where did you get that idea?” He asked. Jo just shrugged, “I didn’t know if you did, was just trying my luck.”

Carter brought over his clothe to compare the writing. It seemed to be the same letters, but slightly different... maybe it was handwriting? Ash looked over at Carter’s finding but they jumped away from him, trying to keep some distance.

“Oh shoot I forgot.” Ash said, flattening the ears on his head. Carter frowned and took a deep breath and inched back toward the bard. “Take this hurry up!” Carter shoves it at him and scurries farther away.

“Ok I guess.” Ash went back to the tapestry, trying to figure out the reoccurring letters.

Jo scooted closer to carter and smiled widely. “So... what happened with cats that caused you to be terrified so much?” She asked sweetly. Carter pauses. “Uhhhh....”

Earlier....

“Ok, everyone stick together. The shop keeper says there’s major stress at the entrance of the cave.” Cj explained as she examined the map that they bought from a gift shop. It was a old mine that housed crystals, but now it’s a tourist attraction.

The whole surrounding town was super old and and had a temple for just about every religion in the land. Even Gjhar feiiled.... Faithy kept her cloak on put away any loose jewelry. The main temple was up north, so as they traveled that way, more and more of them were more common.

But I’ll stop there. The shop keeper said someone covered in dragon scales came through the shop with a large box and went straight into the caves. He seemed like he was running for someone, so whatever was in the box seemed important.

As they ventured in the unconsciously huddled into three separate groups, Faithy and Echo on the left, Carter, Jo, and Ash on the right, and Dax and Cj in the middle.

Definitely unrelated though, Echo was tracing a wall painting with it’s finger and the mountain started shaking. “WHO DECIDED TOUCHING SOMETHING WAS A GOOD IDEA?!?” Ash screamed. “IT WAS CJ” Dax yelled back.

Like it was an action movie or something, rubble came tumbling down and separated the party.

“Ok whatever. Can you use your plants to get us out of here?” Dax asked he traced the walls of the cave.

Cj’s face read “oh duh” but as she went to feel the walls for roots or anything else she frowned. “No good. If I call them I have no idea what it’ll do to integrity of the cave.”

Dax huffed, frail mortals had to be so... frail. Sure the two of them would survive, but his favorite humanoids definitely wouldn’t.

A whistling noise echoed through the tunnel and they taking a fighting stance. Dax signaled her was going further in and Cj followed. They walk around a corner to see a green light emerging from further in.

“You got a few more millennias to live, I’ll go ahead.” Dax said dramaticly. Cj rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “Like someone would be able to kill, much less defeat a Chaos god.”

Dax slapped a hand on either side of his face and acted surprised.

“To think you’d have so much faith in me!”

Cj just punched his arm, “that would be Faithy, not you.”

“Can I help you two?” A voice from behind them caused them to scream and Dax jumped into the smaller God’s arms.

Even though she was a goddess, she didn’t have supernatural strength of any nature. So her small frame was having trouble keeping him up.

It was a very very very very very very very old person. Now, Cj and Dax had no room to talk, but they had a better skincare routine.

Dax jumped out of Cj’s arms suddenly and her arms flung upwards in a very fast motion, knocking her down in the process. Dax helped her up and they readjust themselves.

“Are you the reason I heard some rumbling?” He asked as he shown his blue lantern around.

A sweat ran down CJ’s back.

“Actually, it was a lizard thing.” Dax spoke up. Cj looked at him with audacity. He had just blamed her for touching the thing she shouldn’t have, causing the mountain to come down on them. So he knew....

The old person simply nodded, “ah well, it’ll take them some time to dig that out. It earns the nearby too much money from tourist to let it stay caved in.” He explained. “Now, why don’t we talk for a bit? I’ll pour some tea.”

They reluctantly follow him into his little cave house. Well it was a small cave room, what’s the term for that? Google isn’t very helpful because all it’s wanting to do is give me tips for a man cave layout.

“So what brings you into an empty crystal cave? You seem more like adventurers than tourist.”

Back to Carter and the cats.

“Oh yeah... cats.” Carter looked away, trying to avoid the question.

Jo sighed and took a step back. “Ok it’s ok, you don’t have to answer that.”

Carter sighed in relief and turned straight around. “But how did you learn to be so swag?”

Carter paused and slowly turned back to them and was about to answer when Ash interrupted.

“OK GUYS! The thing we’re are after is a weapon!” He then broke his instrument and tore off a part of his cape to make a proper torch. Now you might be wondering how they could see without a torch. Ash and Jo could see enough not to bump into anything and Carter could tell where the general area of something is. That piece of clothe was just pure luck.

“Jo can you light this?” He asked her. She nodded and snapped her fingers to start a flame and lit it like a birthday candle.

“How did you do that? I don’t think archers can do that.” Carter said in confusion. She laughed and pointed at her hat. “I can change my class depending on my hat. Not that I have any control of it... if kinda just happens and I can’t ever remember what hat goes with what, we kinda just got lucky.”

Carter blinked slowly. The hat made no sense and there was so no sense of making sense of the thing.

“Guys look!” Ash held up the torch near the tapestry to show the words formed a picture of a weapon. There were also stars scattered around it.

“How do you even know that’s the thing we’re looking for? It could just be something relating to something else?” Jo asked.

“Carter give me the flier.” Ash asked sticking his hand out. Carter scrambled around to remember where he stuffed it, “it’s on your belt of daggers.” Ash said. He grabs it and hands it to the cat boy.

Ash holds it up and looks for any similarity between the flier and the tapestry. “Well thats only convenient.” He said. Jo and Carter look over his shoulder and the weird drawing on the flier almost matches the tapestry.

“It’s missing the words that make up the weapon.” Jo pointed out. Now that was very apparent to Carter and Ash but ummm.... Jo is nice and is explaining what’s going on for you sweet Reader-Chan!

(Aughh that took thirty years off my life. I feel like I’m writing on Wattpad again)

But every single star was present. “Wow I feel smart for figuring this out.” Ash said proudly.

“Do they make a pattern?” Carter asked. Ash shoved the flier at him and started kicking random rocks until one fell apart. He picked it up and grabbed the flier back from carter and plopped down.

He used the fragile rock as chalk and connected each start. “Oooh smart.” Jo added.

There were five large stars and a few smaller stars scattered as well. When Ash connected them all together it looked like a deformed turkey.

“Surely that’s not right.” Ash quickly dusted off the flier and connected only the large stars. “Ok tell me if I’m wrong, but does this look like a straying path?” He pointed out.

It started at one point, split into three, then back to another. “Oh yeah I can see that.” Jo replied.

“Maybe we were going to split up anyway and the rubble just sped it up.” Ash purposed.

“I still don’t see how this has anything to with the Mortem Spera“ Carter replied. Ash thought on his question for a minute but shrugged. “Most of these stupid quest have no reason to link up together the way they do.” The cat boy replied.

“Wait, that means we should be able to meet back up with the others then.” Jo replied. Ash quickly rips the tapestry off the wall and rolls it up. “I don’t know if this will be helpful, but it’s worth a shot.” They then head off the find the others.

“So these star forgers are immortal?” Cj asked before taking another sip of tea. The elder nodded.

“The only thing known to strike down one of these beings is something called the Mortem Spera.” He replied, drinking some of his own tea.

The two gods looked at each other, remembering that was thing they were hired to receive.

“But hear my warning. No mortal has managed to get their hands on it, and if they did they would surely meet their end.” He added.

“So who wielded it?” Dax spoke up. Dax did not have tea, he was drinking black coffee. Not that the old man had coffee, he made it himself— French press and everything.

The old man fell silent and put down his cup. “I don’t know the answer to that question. My theory was a dying god.” Interesting, interesting cool story bro.

“But I don’t actually know that. But I don’t think too much about the subject.”

“Well thank you for your time, but we need to find our friends.” Cj announced and pulled Dax up with her.

“Thank you for humoring me, you young folk have fun.” He said as he was went back to drinking tea.

Cj and Dax scurried out and proceeded further into the cave. “I’m sorry I don’t think he knows what’s he’s talking about.” Dax said.

“How so?” Cj replied. The older god sighed. “As long as I’ve lived, I would have at least heard about a dying god THAT desperate to live. Sure some seek out the fountain of youth, but trying to kill something like a star forger.”

Cj thought on it and nodded, “he did seem like he belonged in a loony bin.”

They then turned another corner to find... Faithy and Echo having a tea party?

She had on a fake crown and Echo had on a fake mustache and top hat. But this wasn’t your average tea party, it was the real thing. With delicate dishes, a tower of Pastries, and Gjhar feiiled forbid... a white lace table clothe.

“Is this what you’ve been doing this whole time?” Cj asked, not that she was one to ask.

“We ran into this lovely dwarf who owns a restaurant in here and we’ve been waiting on the rest of you.” Faithy explained before drinking out of her cup with her pinkie at ninety degrees.

Dax and Cj looked at them confused, “how did you know we were coming this way?” Cj asked.

“Ahh... so the shop owner was telling us that the cave coming down on itself was just a illusion.” Echo replied.

Cj flops down onto the ground and leaves an indention around herself.

“Yeah the whole thing is tourist trap role playing adventure. At the end they trick you into trading a sack of gold for a wooden spear.” Faith added.

“That does explain why it didn’t get any darker when the rocks blocked the entrance.” Dax replied.

Cj shot up from her Cj shaped hole in the floor and started screaming incoherently. She then stop and narrowed her eyes at Dax. “You’re a Chaos god and you couldn’t sense an illusion?”

Dax just shrugged. “I’m a chaos god, everything I do is legit. I have no use for mortal’s artificial magic.” He said with disgust. “That and I wasn’t thinking about it.”

Then. A loud thundering noise echoed through the cave, causing everyone to get up and put up their guard. But here comes ash carrying a stupidly large tapestry and Jo carrying Carter like a baby. How were they making so much noise????

“Ok good, we all found each other and someone isn’t trying to get through rocks like an idiot.” Ash said in relief.

“How did you know about the illusion?” Cj asked. Ash raised his eyebrow, “what illusion? The freaking flier made a map. It’s stupid simple but it works I guess.” He replied.

So... this was so freaking long.

And color coding is a pain

Never again

Ever

I hate everything

Masterlist

Figure out who everyone is, I dare you

[ichika27]

Higurashi Gou

We all thought it was gonna be a remake but they fooled us - it’s a freaking sequel! Welcome to Higurashi no Naku Koro ni Gou! (Thank you for being able to legally post the episodes on yt, Ani-One!)

Story synopsis for those who don’t know: Keiichi is a transferee from the city who moved to the small, quiet town of Hinamizawa and there he befriended four girls around his age (there weren’t many kids as you can see from the image above so they all share the same classroom) and together they’re living their peaceful lives happily... until the town’s Watanagashi Festival rolls in.

One dies, One disappears. It seems it’s the scenario that’s to be expected every year at the festival ever since the incident at the failed dam construction happened. What’s going on and what does the local deity, Oyashiro-sama, have to do with all this?

Hence, the original series became a popular horror-mystery story based on a series of sound novels. It spawned another season and a bunch of OVAs.

My initial thoughts on the new series after the cut. It’s been three episodes since it began after all and I might ramble. I’ll try not to give spoilers.

Okay, first of all, the art style/character design is different. It takes some getting used to, I admit, as I’m more used to the cutesy art of the old series. I also saw the (updated) art of the games and the original series art is a bit closer to the game than the new one is but it’s not bad. It’s shiny when it’s in slice-of-life mode and is actually kinda creepier on the times it has to be creepy which is nice.

I’m also happy they added a few more info about some story stuff and Rika’s festival dance was wondeful as well. OP and ED songs are pretty good, too!

As mentioned before, we fans of the past series kinda got fooled. It was advertised as a remake and the first episode does try to follow that with the creepy not being that noticeable except for the bloody intro. Episode 2 rolls in and we get treated to a bunch of spoilers in our face with hints that this is a sequel and stuff that happened in the original series was part of the “past”. Anyways, those spoilers are just confusing stuff for the new fans as they didn’t elaborate on their meanings and importance.

To be honest, if you’re a new fan, I guess you could still enjoy the new series as it is but I highly recommend watching the original series (it’ll be long though). Even if the spoilers don’t really make sense to you right now so in a way, it doesn’t appear as spoiler, I think you’re missing out on the experience of watching the original series.

I remember watching it (I think almost 10) years ago as I’ve seen it recommended in an anime magazine. The confusion and fear at first that made me lose sleep, the mysteries unfolding and the bloody conclusions of each arc - it was exciting and have left me at the edge of my seat wanting to see what would happen next. And then going to Higurashi Kai (2nd season) and then we see the backstory for some of the characters and the explanation to the mysteries from the first series and of course, the conclusion to not just the story but the happy ending achieved by our protagonist(s) after everything that happened. It was all so good! Especially the last part. Watching two seasons long of devastation and then learning about the truth later, just seeing all of the hardship pay off made me smile!

I’m just saying, I think it might be better to experience those and then come back to the new series with all those knowledge. I feel like it will add a bit more to the feelings you’d have watching cause I know I’m not the only one who went “No... you mean it’s not over for that character yet? After everything that happened before?”.

Things I want to see in this new series though? The stuff they left out from the original sound novels. Especially the backstory of “Oyashiro-sama”. There were a lot of things that could’ve been put in. Also, it seems some Umineko no Naku Koro ni-related things were added on the intro of the new series? What does this mean? Are they gonna connect the two series together? Oooh... exciting!

Maybe this could finally lead to a proper anime adaptation for the Umineko series? I wish it is!

Anyways, thanks for reading all this. I hope I can write a post about the entire series when this is over.

[drawlfoy]

Wonders of Ohio P.2

masterlist request guidelines jesus christ this story just flows off the fingertips

pairing: draco x muggle!reader

request: from 14 year old me

summary: instead of having a traditional senior year of high school, american y/n is roped into hosting a british exchange student who is...a bit strange.

warnings: cursing and draco being cold and sad :(

a/n: i’m doing it guys! i’m managing my time! and also i really like writing this for some reason...maybe because i can do shameless self insertion. also sorry for going on “hiatus” and then posting...when i said “hiatus” i really meant “i’m only going to write fics that are easy right now”

tags! @accio-rogers @eltanin-malfoy @geeksareunique 

word count: 2,028

music recs: alright by supergrass, killer queen from queen

The Y/L/N household wasn’t tiny, but it wasn’t a mansion by any definition. There was a guest bed and bath right across from Y/N’s room and bathroom, but that was about it for visitors--no drawing room, no library, no large dining room, no parlor. Her family had hailed from a wealthier family, but after the stock market crash and subsequent policy changes, they had moved out to Ohio and settled down for a proper middle class lifestyle.

Draco Malfoy was clearly unimpressed by the spectacle, and he made his opinion entirely obvious as they moved from room to room of their home, his forest green cloak nearly sweeping the ground next to his dress shoes and his nose upturned.

“And this is your room,” Y/N said. She opened the door, standing by it in a desperate attempt to sell the idea. “I know it’s probably not as big as you’re used to, but you get your own bathroom, so that’s nice.”

Draco stared at her with nothing but disgust written across his face. 

“I’ll leave you be,” said Y/N, noticing how hostile he was being. “If you need anything, I’m right across the hall. Don’t hesitate to ask. You’re not the first exchange student, and while I’ve never personally been one, I can understand more than you’d expect.”

He laughed at this, though there was no humor behind it.  He seemed dead set on staying silent. Frustrated by his lack of response, Y/N snatched his arm and yanked him inside his room, shutting the door behind them and ignoring how violently he ripped himself away from her.

“Allow me to be honest,” she said softly, unable to meet him in the eyes. “I don’t really want an exchange sibling this year. It doesn’t seem like you want to be one, right?”

“Your point?” His voice was clipped and unenthused. 

“My point is that I’m going to leave you completely alone unless you want to be friends, which I don’t think you’re interested in at all. If you want a, uh, friend, I’ll be here for you, but I’m not gonna push it.”

She looked at him, noting how he had backed himself into the corner, his jaw clenched tight. 

“I have a feeling there’s a lot that my mom isn’t telling me about why you’re here, but I guess that’s alright. We’re happy to have you anyways. I’m gonna go now, have a nice nap. And, I, uh, I meant what I said. About being friends if you want us to. It’s probably lonely to be so far away from home, so if there’s anything I can do...” Y/N swallowed, cutting her ramble short. “See you later. I’m gonna go out for a bit.”

He simply nodded, walking over to his bed and sitting down on it awkwardly. Y/N curiously took notice of the fact that he hadn’t so much as touched a phone since they had met. But he was rich...so he had to have one.

She nodded back, exiting the door and making her way to the front door. She needed to get out.

<^>

“He kind of seems like your type though,” Lizzy said, propping her chin up on her palm. “Platinum blonde? Blue eyes? Broody and unapproachable?”

“Literally stop it,” Y/N retorted, rolling up to get another handful of popcorn. “He’s so sick of us already, I can feel it. This is just going to be a question of how long we can tolerate each other.”

“Whatever you say, girly,” she said. “When do we all get to meet him? Do you have to take him to orientation on Wednesday?” 

“You might see him on the first day of school, or maybe you can come over before that. And, yeah, I think my mom wants me to go with him.” Y/N frowned, her nose crinkling. “Which totally sucks. I’m gonna have to get up early to hang around freshman.”

“That’s fair. I could come with you, if you’d like?”

“You don’t need to do that, I can handle him,” said Y/N. “But you should come over tomorrow, we can try and get him to go out on the town with us or something.”

“That sounds fun, but I can’t go,  I’m sorry,” said Lizzy. “Tuesdays are bad for me. And plus, I have to finish the physics summer homework.”

“Ugh, me too,” Y/N groaned, flopping onto Lizzy’s bed. “I never should’ve gone in for a second year. Physics is gonna be the death of me.”

“Speaking of death...” Lizzy leaned over to look at the clock. “I feel like it right now. I had a bad night...I was up late talking to Jonathan again, you know. I’m really tired. Let’s plan to meet up this Thursday? Before school?”

“Oooh, Jonathan.” Y/N grinned at her, wiggling her eyebrows. “I expect a full update on that later. I’ll go home then and start on physics, then.”

They finished saying their goodbyes, and Y/N stepped out into the early September night, the air still warm with the last of summer.

<^>

When she arrived home, she was immediately met by her mother, who motioned for her to come into the kitchen, a finger poised to her lips. 

“What is it, Mom?” Y/N asked, keeping her voice a hushed whisper. “Is he still sleeping or something?”

“No, I think he’s taking a shower right now. His luggage came just before you, so he told me he was going to unpack it.” Mrs. Y/L/N poured some leftover coffee into a mug, stirring half & half in the brown drink. “I just wanted to let you know something and check in. You can’t tell anyone about this, alright? Not even Lizzy. Do you promise?”

“Yes, of course I promise!”

“Shh. Okay.” Her mother took a sip from the mug and took a seat at the cheery yellow coffee table. “I was just given more information on Draco’s situation back home. It looks like it was much worse than we were originally told.”

“How bad?”

“Quiet, Y/N. But, yes, very bad. His father is imprisoned in some foreign facility where no familial contact is allowed.”

Y/N gasped. “What?”

“And it doesn’t look like he’s every getting out,” Mrs. Y/L/N finished, stirring her drink even though the milk was already evenly distributed. “He doesn’t seem very nice, and I suspect that that’s an accurate depiction of his character, but promise me that you’ll be nice to him. The boy has been through enough already, and that’s only concerning the things we know.”

“Is there more, do you think?”

“I know there’s more,” Mrs. Y/L/N answered darkly. “I’ve asked questions that they refuse to answer. But his personal experience back home is none of our concern. What matters now is that we give him a good place to stay while everything else is figured out.”

Y/N, speechless, fell into the chair next to her mother and reached out for the coffee mug.

“Ugh, I shouldn’t let you drink this at night,” her mother chastised. 

“You sound like you’re talking about a dog,” Y/N said. She took a small sip, setting the cup back down and sliding it over before her mother could give her any more lip. In doing so, she caught a glimpse of movement in the doorway, just out of her line of sight. Curious, she turned her head and promptly met a pair of very stormy grey eyes.

“Oh...H-hey, Draco,” Y/N greeted, plastering a smile across her face. “How long have you, uh, been here?” Her mother lightly kicked her shin under the table.

The blonde was propped up against the doorway, his hair looking almost grey with the water it was dripping. “I was just coming down to ask for a glass of water.” 

“Oh, of course!” Mrs. Y/L/N was on her feet before Y/N knew it, bustling towards the cabinets. “You don’t even need to ask next time. The glasses are in here, and the water’s in the fridge...and of course there’s Y/N’s cabinet of tea here...”

“Mom!” Y/N butted in, her cheeks flaming. “You can’t just stereotype him like that!”

“Hush, you have more than enough to go between the two of you.”

“That’s not the point!” 

Draco was still leaned on the door, watching the interaction like one might watch a particularly boring color of paint dry. 

“Would you like some tea, Draco?” asked Mrs. Y/L/N.

He turned to look Y/N right in the eyes, a smirk forming across his face. “Yes. Thank you for asking.”

Y/N glared at her mother and strode over to the drawer, motioning for Draco to come too. “Pick whatever you want. I’m relieved to know that my mother’s cultural insensitivity didn’t offend you.”

“Now, when did I say that?” Draco drawled, towering over her as he flicked through the various packages of loose leaf teas. 

“Draco, I offer my most heartfelt apologies if I have,” her mother said, her voice becoming more distant as she walked out of the room. “If you two will excuse me, I’m going to call your father to arrange his pickup at the airport tomorrow. Goodnight!”

Y/N was left to awkwardly stand next to Draco as he was preoccupied with the selections available. It felt wrong to leave him alone--he didn’t even know where the kettle was kept--but at the same time, it was very uncomfortable to stand next to him in silence.

“I know about your father.”

The sentiment rushed out of her mouth before she could stop it, and the second she had done so, she knew it was a mistake. Draco’s entire body tensed up, his hands now frozen. 

“What about my father?” His voice was harsh, but the beauty of his accent was not left on Y/N.

“I mean,” she rushed out, “I’m sorry to hear what happened. I only heard that he was being held in a facility without any contact to you or your mother...and I just wanted to say that I’m sorry that that had to happen to you.”

He frowned, plucking a bag of tea and throwing it on the counter. 

“And I know that there are things that I’ll never understand,” she continued, “But  I guess I kind of get what it’s like to not have a father. Mine’s gone all the time on business. But it’s not like he’s in pris--Yeah, you know what, nevermind. I don’t understand. But if you ever need someone to talk to...”

She trailed off, noticing how murderous his look was and swallowed. “Yeah, uh, if you ever want someone--”

“You’re here? I understood it the first time, thank you,” he clipped. “Where’s your kettle?” 

Y/N pointed to the cabinet below the drawer. “Right below the tea, if it’s not being cleaned.” She thought she did a very good job at pretending like what he said didn’t hurt. 

Draco snatched the kettle and filled it with water before puzzling over the stove.

“Don’t worry about that, it’s a little confusing for the first time,” Y/N said, darting next to him and demonstrating how to flick it on. She acted like she didn’t notice him flinch at the close proximity. “And mugs are by the glasses, but I’m sure you saw that..before. Uh, anyways.”

She gulped again, stepping away from him to lean nonchalantly on the table behind her. “Your parents let you get a tattoo?” Desperate to change the subject, she pointed to the tiny peek of ink on his left arm, exposed by his jumper riding up. 

He stiffened up, and Y/N knew that she had once again made a mistake. 

“No. They didn’t.”

“So you just did it on your own accord? That’s pretty metal.”

“I don’t have a tattoo,” he snapped, yanking his sleeve down. He seemed to take the time to collect himself again, drawing in a long and shaky breath. “And if I may be so bold to ask, can I enjoy my tea alone?”

“Uh..yeah, yeah, sure. Sorry about that.” Forget that Y/N didn’t know exactly what she was apologizing for (existing in her own kitchen?), she wanted to get out of that situation. “Goodnight, Draco.”

He sent her an irritated glance in return. 

final a/n: ohhh gee i sprained my ankle really badly and now i literally can’t walk so you know what that means...more fic

[hole-in-the-sky-library]

Whispers in the Mist [Yu-Gi-Oh Arc V x Mistborn AU]

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Arc V [Mistborn Setting] Pairing: None Characters: Reiji Akaba, Ray Akaba Rating: T Word count: 8616 TW: Blood, Gore, Eye Horror, Body Horror, Major Character Death I will never actually write the rest of this au but I have been thinking about this absolutely terribly angsty prologue bit to the main au for like two days and i had to purge it from my system

Reiji reached as high as he could, but his fingers barely brushed the bottom of the book he was reaching for.  He pressed his lips together with irritation as he shifted back down onto his heels. Would he really need to go all the way to the other side of the library to get the ladder to get a book simply two inches away from his hand?

He tried again, stretching as high as he could go. If he could just...nudge it...

A hand reached over his head, wrapping around the book and sliding it from the shelf.

“Looking for this?” 

Ray’s teasing voice only irritated him more, as did her bopping him lightly on the head with the book. He snatched it from her, shooting her a withering look. What he would do to be as tall as she was...a few more years, perhaps, and he might catch up with her, at least.

“Oooh, you’ve got that down,” Ray said with a laugh.  “You’ll be scaring off all of papa’s business partners in no time — then I won’t have to do any work!”

Reiji sighed.  He tried to tamp down his annoyance. Ray lived for teasing him and it was no good to let her get away with it.  Still, the annoyance flared once again, and he had the sudden urge to snap at her — 

“Stop that,” he said, shooting her another, more measured look. It took all he had to force himself not to glower, as his sudden flare of annoyance demanded he do so.

“Awww,” Ray said.  “Just thought you might like the catharsis of shouting a bit.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, but his annoyance faded. He sighed again.

“It really isn’t proper of you to Riot me like that,” he said. “You’re supposed to Soothe anger, not enflame it.”

“But that’s boring,” Ray quipped. She winked at him, then tilted her head to look at his book. “What are you reading, anyway? Did papa give you more busywork?”

“It’s nothing,” Reiji said, tucking the book title side in towards his chest.  The fewer people knew he was researching medical anatomy — the fewer who realized that he was using that research to compare nobles and skaa anatomy, to challenge the Lord Ruler’s teachings that the two were biologically different — the better.

Suddenly, however, he wondered what the point of hiding it from Ray was. Ray wasn’t likely to tell anyone else, of course, and she was only curious. It might even make her more suspicious if he didn’t show her — 

“Stop that!” Reiji said, as he wrenched his emotions back from Ray���s Soothing touch.

“You told me to Soothe,” Ray pointed out, and Reiji glowered at her.

She only grinned back, but he no longer felt manipulated, so perhaps she really had finally left off. Honestly. His sister was like a child, sometimes. 

“Flaunting your Mistborn status isn’t a wise move,” he said, walking past her to one of the tables so he could add his book to the three others he’d selected. “If another House discovers that you’re Mistborn, it could cause complications.”

“Oh, you’re the only one I bother with it,” Ray said mischievously.  “Or, rather, you’re the only one who notices. I’m very good, you know. But you know me too well.”

“Rather, I know myself too well,” Reiji said. “And I know what I would not do without coercion.”

He tucked the books into the little bag he’d brought with him to bring up to his room. He was storing the most useful texts under a floorboard beneath his bed for easy access, and he’d like to read where no one else was likely to walk in and ask questions — well, no one except his bother of a sister.

“Leaving already?” Ray said.

Reiji glanced over his shoulder warily.

“Why?” he said.

Ray smiled widely.

*

Reiji was truly beginning to think that his sister might be a bit off her rocker.

He glanced uncomfortably around the garden, brown and dying and covered in ash, as the night sky grew dark. No ash fell tonight, but the sky remained as dark and cloudy as ever.  And the mists pulled tight around them, cold and damp as it curled around his limbs.  

Just a bit ahead of him, Ray stood in the mists, only barely visible.  She had her arms out wide, her head thrown back with her hair falling long down her back.  Her eyes were closed, as though she were inviting the mist to her.  They stood there in silence, with nothing but the mist, not even a breeze to rustle the brown, spindly trees and break the silence.  All Reiji could hear was his own heartbeat in his ears.

“Do you hear it, Reiji?” Ray said. Somehow, despite the relative silence, her voice didn’t sound very loud. It was almost as though the mist itself were speaking, soft and near to him, though she were a few feet ahead.

“I do not,” he said, almost automatically.

This ritual seemed to happen every time they went into the mists.  Ray had admitted to him one night that she could hear the mists. That it spoke, in voices too quiet for her to understand the words, but enough to understand the feeling.  That was, of course, preposterous.

But then again, she was Mistborn. And the Houses didn’t like to let on to which among their ranks had been blessed with such power, so it was impossible to compare Ray to any other Mistborn, and learn if perhaps “hearing the mist” was some extra, supernatural sense that Mistborn had in addition to their access to Allomancy.

“You’ll hear it someday,” Ray said, letting her arms drop to her sides.  “The mist likes you.”

“I’m sure it does,” Reiji said, more to humor his older sister than anything. He, for his part, did not particularly like the mists. They were strange, and alien.  The way they moved and wavered with no breeze made them...well, made them almost seem alive. Something he had no idea how to break down to study. Sometimes, when he stood out here in the mists with his sister, he felt as though maybe she were right, and they could speak.

But that was only a superstitious anxiety, brought on by the very natural human fear of being outside, at night, surrounded by fog, with low visibility to see any approaching predators, he reminded himself.

Ray stepped forward, the strips of gray fabric sewn into her cloak rustling and waving about her as she did.  She held her hand out.

“Ready?”

Reiji bit his lip.  But he didn’t hesitated. He reached for her hand, and let her pull him into a hug.  Then she dropped a coin from her pouch, and Pushed.

He tried not to cling to her too tightly as they rocketed into the air, the mists trailing in their wake.  In response to something Reiji could not see, Ray’s body jerked off to the side, and they were sailing over the gates of the Akaba mansion.

Ray landed lightly on the roof and took off at a dash, cradling Reiji in her arms.  He tried not to think about how embarrassing it was to still let her hold him like this, when he was already thirteen years old, and instead, tried to focus on everything else.  He focused on the mists, on the way they swirled and didn’t seem to move in ways they should from the breeze Ray created with her movements.  He focused on the way Ray moved, the way her body jerked when she Pulled from the ground again as though yanked by some invisible cord, and then how she moved when she Pushed, as though something beneath her had just shoved her upwards.  Her legs didn’t crack under the weight of her landing when she dropped from heights that would snap the legs of a normal person, and her arms holding him felt somehow thicker than they normally work, denser, as she was ostensibly burning pewter to strengthen herself.

But how did that make sense? Reiji considered as Ray continued to Push and Pull herself across the city. How did swallowing metal, and then ‘burning’ it cause one’s body to strengthen? He still couldn’t figure out how that might make any anatomical sense.

Finally, Ray began to slow, coming to a stop on a particularly tall building.  She gasped for breath, shaking slightly as she stood, staring out into the mists.  After a beat, Reiji tapped her shoulder, and she seemed to remember that she was holding him. She let him down, and he carefully tested the roof for safe footing before letting go of her.

“There,” she said, pointing up.  “You can get a bit of a glimpse of them from here sometimes.”

Reiji looked up. At the end of her finger, if he squinted, and if the mist shifted back just a little bit...

There it was.  A star.

It was too dark for his notebook to be of any use, so he only stared at it, at the pair of them, actually — no, there were three.  He could see at least three.  He memorized their shape and size and the distance between them as best he could.

“Can you point to me on a map where we are now when we get back?” Reiji asked, filing away the stars for later recording.

“Sure,” Ray said.  “But let’s take a minute first, okay?”

She flopped down, letting her legs sprawl out in front of her and leaning back on her hands.  After a moment, Reiji gave in.  He slid to sit down next to her, hugging his knees to his chest as he stared up at the stars overhead, when he could get a glimpse of them between the mist and the clouds of soot and smoke that hung over the city.

For a long time, neither of them spoke. The mists curled about them, quiet and soothing, as they simply sat and drank in the silence.

“What will you do with this information about the stars?” Ray asked. “I’ve never asked you.”

Reiji hesitated.  He waited to see if he might feel unnaturally predisposed to tell her everything, if she might be Soothing or Rioting him.  But no unnatural emotions arose.  It was a real question. She wasn’t teasing him.

He looked down, at the mist, at the eerie shapes of the dark buildings rising out of it like dark shadowy monsters.

“You cannot tell anyone this,” he said.  “Not even father.”

“I won’t.”

The soft way she said it was enough for him to know. She was serious. She wouldn’t tell.  

He sucked in a soft breath.

“There are only a few mentions of stars in any history book,” he said. “Mostly in ones so old, and so well hidden, that it’s clear they haven’t been looked at in decades, much less reproduced.”

He lifted one hand, framing the three stars in the crook of his thumb, as though he might be able to cup them.

“Supposedly, there was a time when the stars were visible,” he said. “So visible that people could use them to navigate.”

Ray didn’t answer, didn’t look towards him, but he could sense her attention on him almost like a weight on his shoulders.

“There are other things, as well. Mentions of plants being...green. Decorative elements in old books of things I’ve never seen before, and have trouble finding other mentions of.”

He let his hand fall back to his knees, still staring at the stars.

“All things that are difficult to confirm, things that seem almost dangerous to ask about.”

He looked down, finally, at his knees, and then at his hands. He’d never spoken aloud before, his suspicions.

“I think the Lord Ruler is lying to us,” he said. “But I don’t know about what, specifically. Or about how much. Or why.”

He curled his hands into fists.

“But something’s wrong. I can sense it. I won’t rest until there are things I can confirm with my own hands, with my own observations. I want to know the truth. I want to understand what Allomancy is, and why it only appears in noble bloodlines. I want to know why it works and where it comes from. I want to know what really happened when the Lord Ruler claims to have defeated the Deepness.”

He sighed, grinding his fists into his eyes, pushing his glasses up into his bangs.

“It’s all so far away,” he said.  “I can’t even begin to grasp it. Studying your Allomancy is only so much help. If I were a Mistborn, or even a Misting, I might be able to...”

He trailed off.  Suddenly, he worried he’d said too much. Had Ray used emotional Allomancy on him after all, to convince him into talking?  And what would she do now that she knew the truth behind his studies, behind his avoidance?

For a long moment, Ray said nothing.  When he chanced a glance at her, she was still staring up. But...somehow, he didn’t think she was staring at the stars. He wasn’t sure what she was looking at.

A faint smile graced her lips then, a softer expression than he was used to seeing on his sister’s face. It was introspective, very unlike her usual mischief or unbridled determination.  She turned her eyes to him.  Then she smiled a little wider, and reached out to ruffle his hair.  He glowered at her, shooing her hand away and fixing his bangs.

“You’re still so young,” she said, the teasing edge back to her voice. “You don’t have to have all the answers yet.”

“I’m not that young,” he muttered.

But it didn’t feel like their normal banter, somehow. It was suddenly as though some thickness had come between them, some haze unlike the soft touch of the mist. As though something were hanging over them.

How long had they been doing this, Reiji wondered.  When was the first time that Ray had offered to take him out into the mists, into the night, to let him feel what the flight of an Allomancer felt like for himself?  How young had he been, when he’d first told her of his desire to see stars, and she’d brought him out into the darkness to find them? How often had they found themselves here, on some roof in the middle of nowhere, chasing Reiji’s wisps? He wondered what his sister had imagined he’d been doing before now.  And why she’d brought him along so willingly, when it was so obvious that she preferred to run through the mists alone.

“All right,” he said, suddenly annoyed by the silence. “I’ve answered your question. Your turn.”

“Oh? What are you curious about?” Ray said with a mischievous smile. 

Reiji rolled his eyes ever so slightly, huffing.

“I told you my treasonous thoughts, so you can answer a simple question for me,” he said. “Where do you go? When you don’t bring me with you.”

Ray’s eyes slid to his.  For a moment, their gazes held. His sister wasn’t smiling — she was more...considering him. As though deciding what to say. What to tell him. What to trust him with. The same balance of pros and cons he’d weighed before telling her the truth.

Her lips parted.

“I go to meet someone,” she said.

Reiji’s breath caught. He’d expected a silly answer — that she simply went charging about, using her Allomancy for fun and mischief and for the thrill of the challenge, like the reasons she did everything else.

“Who?” he said.

She took in a breath. It was obvious that she was going to tell him — tell him something important. Something perhaps, just as dangerous as what Reiji had admitted. But what could that be? Who could she possibly be meeting that would warrant the same level of caution as admitting to treason and heresy? Surely, she must only be meeting some lover, someone she wasn’t supposed to see — a skaa, perhaps? Or was this bigger than that?

Ray’s breath caught.  Her shoulders stiffened ever so slightly. He noticed her tilt her head faintly, almost imperceptibly. If he didn’t know her like he did, he wouldn’t noticed. Did she hear something? If she were burning tin, she could hear much further than he could.

She stood, quickly.

“We need to go.”

Reiji wanted to argue. He wanted to hear what she was going to tell him. But the tone in her voice brokered no argument.  He stood as well, taking her hand to let her help him to his feet. She reached for her belt, retrieving a vial — water and metal flakes, the fuel for her allomancy. She opened the stopper with her teeth and spat it out, downing liquid inside in one go.  Then she pulled Reiji towards her, and reached for her coin pouch.

The mists swirled.  Ray tensed, swinging around as the first Inquisitor landed on the roof behind them.

Reiji stiffened. He had seen Inquisitors before, of course, but from a distance.  Never this close — and never framed in the darkness and mist, never so clearly seeing them for the twisted monsters they were. In the low light, from only dim, mist-dampened streetlamps, Reiji could only barely make out the metal studs that made the Inquisitor’s eyes — the ends of the metal stakes that were pounded through their eyes and poked out through the backs of their heads. Something that Reiji knew logically ought to kill a person.

But this Inquisitor was very much alive, and a cruel smile twisted his face as he straightened.

“Lady Ray Akaba,” he said, his voice dampened by the mists. “You are hereby marked for execution, by order of the Lord Ruler. You will submit.”

Ray tensed, wrapping an arm tighter around Reiji.

“What is the meaning of this,” she hissed, her voice low and enraged.

Reiji felt Ray tense before he heard the steps of the second Inquisitor landing behind them. She didn’t turn, but he could feel her body straightening, felt her twitch slightly.

“The game is up, Lady Ray,” the first Inquisitor said. “Your father has already been executed for his crimes. Now, only you remain.”

A fire roared in Reiji’s brain all at once. His father...dead? Executed? For what purpose?

“Surrender peacefully,” the Inquisitor continued. “Release the Akaba heir and come quietly, by the name of the Lord Ruler.”

The heir? He wasn’t the heir. And why — why were his father and Ray — but not him?

“You know exactly what this is about, Lady Ray,” the second Inquisitor said, drawing closer, boxing them in. “Your father committed the most heinous of crimes. He produced a child outside the bloodline.”

Air caught in Reiji’s throat like a rock.

Ray...

His father....

Oh, by the Lord Ruler, Reiji swore, as it all began to make sense. His father had done the one thing the Lord Ruler would never forgive. He had...with a skaa woman...and that meant Ray was...his sister was...

Oh Preservation, he thought, cold seeping through him. They were going to murder his sister for being half skaa.

Ray’s eyes flickered back and forth. He felt her arm tighten around him. Reiji tried to think, his brain screaming. Ray could get them out of here. She could escape. What then? They couldn’t stay in the city. They would have to flee. As far as they could. The caves. There was said to be a skaa rebellion hiding there. The Lord Ruler wouldn’t waste his resources going after them that far, would he?

And then his stomach dropped out as Ray Pushed.

He threw his arms around her as Ray shot into the air.  The Inquisitors weren’t far behind, rocketing up behind her.  Ray’s body jerked to the side as she Pulled on a nearby metal roof.  She landed on her feet, gathered Reiji into her arms tighter, and rocketed off again.

Coins shot through the mist, scattering at high speeds, barely missing them.  Ray hit the next roof and ran.

Reiji bounced around in her grip as she Pulled herself like a shot off to the next building. Her grip was still strong on him, but without her hands — it would be hard for her to fight back.

“R-Ray,” he gasped.  “Sister!”

“Shut up, we’re running,” Ray said.

“Put me down,” he said. “Put me down!”

He tried to push at her, but she tightened her grip.

“I don’t care — I don’t care if you hate me,” she said. “I don’t care if you hate me for lying, I’m not leaving you! I’m not letting them — I won’t let them —”

“Ray, listen to me!” he said. “I don’t — this isn’t the time! I don’t hate you! But they said they wouldn’t kill me!”

“They were lying!” Ray said. “I’m not leaving you!”

“You have to! They’re after you! They won’t bother with me! Put me down and I’ll hide, and you can move faster!”

“Shut up, for once in your life, Reiji, shut UP!”

Her voice cracked, and for the first time in his life, Reiji heard something in Ray’s voice he’d never thought he’d ever hear.

Panic.

Ray tightened her grip on him, and that was when he felt the tears scatter his face.  She was...crying?

Ah, he suddenly thought. That’s right.

Father’s dead.

He couldn’t find it in him to cry, not now, not yet. Only a hollow emptiness, an uncertainty of feeling, was left within him — hyperfocused on the layer above it, the thoughts that wound towards escape and survival.

More coins shot over them in a cloud, and this time, one hit. Ray yelled as one cut through her shoulder, grazing her.  She grit her teeth, and then they were plummeting.

Ray hit the ground — too hard. She lost her footing. In midair, she twisted, landing back first rather than land on top of Reiji. Reiji collapsed on top of her, momentarily winded. Ray, however, did not pause. She rolled up, scooping Reiji.  She froze, though, as three Inquisitors materialized from the mists, closing in around them from the surrounded alleys.  Ray edged backwards, eyes fixed on each one. Her eyes flicked up, and the two that had followed them parted the mist as they landed before them.

Ray released Reiji, pushing him behind her, backing them up against the nearest wall.

“Do not move,” she said, pushing him back against the wall.

“But —”

Ray’s hand clutched against his shoulder so hard that he thought she might break it with her pewter-enhanced strength.

“Do not move.”

For a moment, the Inquisitors only filed out around them, forming a half circle, blocking them in. Reiji felt like he might throw up. Two Inquisitors had been terrifying enough but...five? 

“Ray, you can’t beat them,” Reiji hissed. “We have to run.  You have to run.”

Ray released his shoulder, not even looking at him, eyes fixed on her opponents.

And then coins filled the air in a deadly stream of ricocheting metal.

Ray didn’t even raise her hands. Reiji flinched — then every coin froze in midair.  The ground beneath Ray’s feet cracked, and she sunk an inch into it, as though she had suddenly dug into it, her stance wide as she braced herself.  The entire cloud of clouds vibrated, the battle of invisible Pushes as both Ray and Inquisitors tried to push them back at the other.  Reiji could only stare, his mouth hanging open. Ray was — she was matching the Pushes of five Inquisitors at once.

Ray’s coin pouch exploded, and coins shot at deadly speeds, rocketing past the coins she battled over with the Inquisitors. Three found their mark, sinking into Inquisitor’s skin and then — punching out the back. Blood spurted from the tiny wounds as one of the Inquisitors yelled, dropping backwards.  He lost his grip on his coins, and then those coins, too, rocketed back at their owners.  Two more Inquisitors took hits, and then one charged.

Ray met him with her arms crossed over her head, catching his fist between her arms.  She yelled, twisting her hands over his wrist, twisting into him, and flipping him hard over her shoulder, slamming him into the ground.

Coins went ricocheting around the square in a flurry of directions, and Reiji had to drop to his knees, hands over him as three coins broke the brick over his head.

Ray slammed her boot into the Inquisitor’s face as he hit the ground, and then whipped about.  She Pulled on the fallen coins, yanking them back towards her.  Two ripped straight through an Inquisitor, but he didn’t even flinch. A nasty metal spike appeared in his hand, and he flung it towards her, shoving it with a powerful Push. Ray dodged around it, twisting around and Pulling the spike back as it finished its movement, yanking it into her hand and moving forward at once. The stake raised, as though to stab him in the head.  But then the stake was yanked from her fingers, pulled into the hand of another Inquisitor, who immediately Pushed it back to stab her through the heart.

Ray Pushed off of something near the ground, her body rocketing off at an angle.  She flipped and hit the nearest building feet first, standing sideways for a moment before shooting off again. She pulled a flurry of coins back to her palms then sent them out in a rain of deadly metal again.

Reiji could hardly believe his eyes. His sister was...she was holding her own. Against fiv Inquisitors.  They couldn’t seem to keep up with her, her body moving so quick that Reiji could barely keep track of her movements. She’d never moved like this while he’d gone out with her — but without him in her arms, she moved as though she were the mists themselves. And in fact, a strange, faint shimmer seemed to surrounded her — a wisp of mist that curled around her, somehow...deflecting small coins, sending them off in a different direction. It was as though the mists were stronger around her, thicker.  Something was different, something was beyond anything he’d ever seen her do before. Was he imagining it, or did her eyes suddenly have a strange, pale glow to them?

She twisted easily in midair, finding metal in what seemed like a thousand perfect places to angle herself into Push after Pull after Push, crashing feet first into Inquisitors, flinging their rain of coins and spikes back.  She...she might actually do it, he thought with awe. She might actually be powerful enough to defeat a Steel Inquisitor.

The one she’d flung to the ground stirred, finally rolling over and pushing himself onto his elbows.  He reached out a hand for a fallen spike, Pulling it towards him.  Reiji’s heart leaped into his throat as he watched him aim the spike at Ray, watched him calculate when to Push, when she might land for just a second long enough to — 

Reiji didn’t think. He leaped forward.  

He landed heavily on the Inquisitor’s back, startling him enough to knock him back onto his elbows, the spike clattering from his hands.  Reiji scrabbled bare handed at the man’s back, looking for something, anything, anything that might give him a chance to survive the next few moments. He clawed at the back of the man’s neck, raking deep bloody gashes into him.  He grabbed at the ends of the spikes that poked through the back of the man’s head and tried to pull on them, and the man roared with anger.  He Pushed himself up, and Reiji dropped to the ground with a heavy thwump. He wasn’t very fast — even less so than an Inquisitor burning pewter.  In seconds, the man had him by the scruff of his neck.  In one second more, an arm was wrapped around his throat, suspending him a foot off the ground as he kicked and struggled.

And then the spike was back in the Inquisitor’s hand, and the tip was pressed into his cheek, and he froze, hanging limp, hands still digging into the arm that held him.

Don’t make a sound, he thought desperately. Don’t let Ray know that you’re held captive. If she hesitated even for a moment — 

“Cease your resistance immediately, Ray Akaba,” the Inquisitor shouted.  “You will immediately hand yourself over.”

Ray’s eyes glinted through the dark — and it was too late. Her gaze caught on Reiji. Her eyes widened.  She landed hard on her feet, whipping around towards him, hands reaching out — 

It was the only second distraction the Inquisitors needed.

Four spikes Pushed through Ray’s chest from four directions and ripped straight out the other side of her, tearing a rain of blood in their wake.

Her eyes bulged. Blood welled up against her mistcloak as for a moment, just a moment, she stood, frozen, almost in shock.  Reiji felt the entire world stop.

Then, silently, face still frozen in shock, Ray keeled forward. She landed with a thwump on the ground, face first. Even in the dark, Reiji could see the pool of blood spreading beneath her.

He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t...he couldn’t make a sound. He could only stare.

She was...

Dead.

His sister was dead.

A shuddering breath rippled through his sister’s body.  It was like the world came back into motion again, and Reiji felt bile rise up in his throat.  Slowly, painfully, Ray dragged one arm forward. Her nails dug into the cobbled stone. Her body scraped against the ground as she tried — she tried to drag herself forward.

“Stop,” Reiji whispered, the only sound he could make. “Please...stop...”

Ray gagged, making a horrible bubbling sound. Reiji threw up, the vomit dripping over his lips and splattering the ground, but the Inquisitor still didn’t let him go, arm tightening around his throat.

“It seems we’ll have to dispose of you after all,” the Inquisitor said, shaking Reiji slightly. “The Lord Ruler will not think kindly of one who tried to defend an abomination. A new Great House will rise to take your place.”

Reiji struggled, kicking, wanting to scream but having no air. His eyes blurred with tears of pain, tears of panic. And his sister, laying on the ground in a pool of her own blood, still dug her fingers into the earth. Still tried to drag herself forward, inch by inch, towards Reiji.

“S-stop,” he gasped, tears rolling down his cheeks. He couldn’t see. His glasses were crooked, almost falling off. “R-Ray. Sister. Please — don’t — it’s — it’s enough —”

He gagged as the arm around his neck grew tighter, kicking his legs more out of instinct than any attempt to escape.  Ray shuddered, a rattling breath accompanying another spit up of blood. She dug her fingers into the stone and dragged herself forward again. She was...mumbling. She was mumbling something. He could only just barely hear — 

“Please, let me save him, let me save him, let me save him, one last thing from you please let me save him —”

Another spike shot from the Inquisitor’s hand, burying itself into Ray’s body, staking her to the ground. She shrieked, body spasming.  Reiji threw up in his mouth again, spitting it onto the floor.

Do something, he thought.  I have to...I have to...what can I...

Ray shuddered on the ground, face in the dirt. But she still kept trying to move forward. And he only hung there, helplessly. If it weren’t for him — for his stupid, childish desires — if Ray had been alone tonight — 

Ray let out a low, moaning keen.  Her fingers stretched out, almost as though beseeching.

“Please,” she begged, to no one Reiji could see or perceive.  “Please. Save him, at least him.”

She lifted her arms inches off the ground, a huge effort, fingers grasping at nothing, begging to something that could not hear, that did not exist.

Except...

The mists

answered.

It was quiet at first, unobtrusive. Reiji almost didn’t notice it. The mists thickened, as though a wave were washing in from somewhere new, filling in the small square with a thick whiteness that sapped away all visibility.  One of the Inquisitors frowned, tilting his head, as though hearing something Reiji could not.

And then the mists simply swallowed him.

Reiji couldn’t think of another way to explain it. It was as though he had been suddenly sucked into them, dragged up into the thick white cloud that came over him with the softness cracking sound.  The other Inquisitors reacted to the tiny sound much more intensely than Reiji did, as though they could hear it more clearly. One of them whipped around towards the mists that had swallowed the first Inquisitor, a spike Pulled to his hand.

The mists latched onto his hand. At first it only visibly looked as though it had gotten thicker, a small cloud around his hand. Quickly, however, Reiji realized it had caught him. The Inquisitor swore, digging his heels in and trying to yank his hand free —

His arm came free. But the hand was gone.

Blood sprayed from the now open wound, and the Inquisitor shrieked. The others were truly reacting now. Reiji’s captor released him, and Reiji crumpled to the ground.

The mists swirled now, faster and faster, like a whirlwind — a natural phenomenon he’d only read whispers of, and never seen for himself.  It was as though they were enclosing this small space, blocking them in. 

Mist stabbed through the third Inquisitor like a physical thing, wisping away as soon as the jagged holes were left to bleed in his body.  The one who had lost a hand tried to swipe at the mist, but it was only air and water — at least, it was then. Like some invisible jaw, it suddenly cleaved through the man, slicing him into pieces.  Blood splattered Reiji’s face as the body fell to the ground, spikes clattering out of the man’s body and onto the ground.

He didn’t see what happened to the last Inquisitors, but as the mist rolled over them, swallowing them from sight, he heard the screaming.  Reiji’s heart leaped into his throat. The mist was getting closer. It was starting to creep towards him — and Ray.

Reiji crawled forward, still shaking from the lack of air.  He tried to reach Ray before the mist did — and then what?  What would he do? Could he do anything with the damage that had been done to his sister? Could he escape trying to hold his sister’s heavy body?

He grasped her hand.

“Ray,” he gasped.  “Ray, we have to...we have to go.  Please, we have to go.”

It took all of his meager strength just to drag her up, to roll her over and into his arms.  The mist crawled closer, and still, the screams and squelches weren’t done. They had to get away. They had to run. Whatever this was — 

A soft, warm hand touched his face, wiping away the trail of tears down his cheek.  Ray smiled distantly up at him.

“It’s all right,” she whispered. “It won’t hurt you.”

The mist drew ever closer, as Ray’s strength failed her and her arm flopped back down to her side.

“Ray, keep your eyes open,” Reiji said, trying and failing to keep his voice steady. “Ray!”

Ray wasn’t seeing him anymore. Her eyes were turning glassy.

“I’m sorry,” she said.  “I’m sorry. I know I promised. I didn’t mean to lose here.”

“Ray, listen to me. Stay awake. Stay awake!”

The screaming had stopped, now. There was only the aching, painful silence.

“I’m so sorry,” Ray said. “I don’t want to ask him to...but he’s — Reiji’s smarter than me. He can do it. I know he can.”

She smiled, as though at something Reiji couldn’t see. She was talking nonsense. She was dying.  He fought through his tears, gathering her into his arms, like she’d done for him.

“Ray, please,” he gasped, tears dripping down onto her face. “Please.”

“I’m sorry,” Ray whispered again. “Please...please...take care of him...please protect him...”

Her eyes fluttered.  Her neck grew limp as her eyes grew dark.  Something seemed to exhale from her, a faint wisp, that in Reiji’s shattered psyche, might have looked to be a soul.

And then the mists were on them.

They were so thick.  He couldn’t see Ray’s face, even though he could feel her body still in his arms.  He could feel the mist like a living thing, a soft touch that wrapped around his body, held him in place as though it were solid. 

He had the sudden, terrifying sense that something was staring right at him.

He gripped Ray tighter, unable to move, barely able to breathe. Ray had said it wouldn’t hurt him — but he’d watched the mists tear the Inquisitors to shreds. Why had it done that? How had it done that? And why would it show discretion? Ray had spoken nonsense in her shattered, dying state.  He felt the mists tighten around him, felt his body lock up as though a giant hand held him, and for a numbing moment, he was positive he was about to die.

Then he felt something in his mouth — a thick, cold liquid, almost like drinking half-solid ice.  He inhaled in spite of himself, and the cold feeling shot down his throat, his nose, and he choked on it.

The mists. He was swallowing the mists. 

The mists forced themselves into his eyes, his ears, his pores.  He might have screamed if it wasn’t for the mist that choked his lungs, that filled him up to the constraints of his ribs.  He couldn’t see anymore as the mists poured into his eyes.  It was freezing — and yet also warm.  It was seeping into him, floating beneath his skin.  He didn’t know where he ended and the mists began, as though he were wisping away, eaten up until he, too, became a living mist.

He cried out silently at the pressure that inhaled him, that seemed to press in on him from all sides and from within him all at once. The only thing he was sure of was the weight of his sister’s body in his hands.

It was that that pulled him back — that forced him to drag himself, kicking and screaming, back to the surface of the mist.

When he opened his eyes again, the mists had receded. Only an ordinary thin haze hung over the square.  There was no sign of the Inquisitors’ bodies — though the remains of the coins and spikes, and splatters of blood, were left in their wake.

Reiji’s head buzzed. His mouth was dry, and his eyes were drier. He had to blink several times to get his vision back to normal. He felt a faint echo of cold tingling beneath his skin.

Had he...had he imagined all of that? Had it all been a hallucination, from the stress of his sister’s murder?

He looked down. His sister still hung limply in his arms. Ray was still dead.  His hands began to shake.

And then he noticed something very curious.

A store of energy seemed to be arising inside of him.  Uncertainly, he reached out with his mind, and touched against it.

A warmth spread through his stomach as blue lines arose in his vision, leading to the metal scattered on the ground.  He sucked in a half breath, eyes widening.

Tentatively, he reached out with one hand, still holding Ray with the other.  He Pulled.

A coin shot into his hand, so fast that it almost nicked him before he caught it.  He held the coin, staring at it.  Then, just as tentatively, he tried Pushing. 

The coin shot off into the night and struck against a wall — immediately, Reiji’s body lurched back, nearly making him lose control of Ray. He released his Push before he dropped her, scrabbled to hold her.

His heart thrummed in his chest.

It had been no hallucination.

Somehow....

Ray had made him a Mistborn.

Reiji looked down at what remained of his sister. Her eyes stared sightlessly up at the sky, at the stars that they could no longer see.  Had it really only been hours before that they had been in the library? That he had been annoyed with her teasing, and resentful of her bantering?  Tears pricked at his eyes again, as guilt threatened to overwhelm him.

You have to go.

The whisper was so faint that he barely heard it — but in the silence, it was loud enough to startle him. He whipped his head around, looking for some sign of the speaker.  But there was no one in sight.

You must go. 

More Inquisitors are coming.

Do not waste her sacrifice.

We will hide you for as long as we can.

The voices chorused, soft and echoey, right against his ears. He felt the cold trail of the mist against his neck, and a cold sweat rose to his skin.

It...

It was the mists.

The mists were speaking to him.

His throat was dry.  His heart thrummed with panic. More Inquisitors? Could he escape? He couldn’t do what Ray could do — even if he were now a Mistborn, he was untrained. He could not defend himself.

Go.

We will hide you.

The Inquisitors did not know you would be with her.

They are dead.

The others will not know you were here.

Go.

The whispers faded, and Reiji had a sudden feeling that he would not hear them again.

They were right, he realized through the haze of his panic, his grief, his shock. They wouldn’t have known that he would be with their prey. They’d begun the fight claiming that they would let Reiji live — because he was pureblood.  He recoiled from the very idea all of a sudden, feeling as though he were full of poison.

But..but if he left now...if the Inquisitors didn’t find him with Ray’s body...he could feign ignorance. He could survive.

But...but he couldn’t leave her.

He gripped his sister a little tighter. There was nothing more than a shell here, now.  An echo.  His eyes filled with tears again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.  “I —”

He swallowed.  The panic suddenly subsided, the overwhelming guilt and grief receded.

In its place was a pit of unrelenting rage.

The Lord Ruler was the cause of this.

Reiji lifted his eyes towards Kredik Shaw, the distant spire of the Lord Ruler’s palace.  A sudden resolve overtook him. If he had survived this night — if he had inherited, somehow, Ray’s power — there must be a reason.

He would make that reason killing the Lord Ruler.

He laid Ray gently on the ground. He brushed her bangs from her eyes, and, although he knew it would imply that someone had been here, he closed her eyes.  He lingered for only a breath longer.

“I will make sure you rest in peace,” he whispered. “No matter what it takes.”

Then, shaky and uncertain, he launched himself off the nearest coin and into the air.

*

Reiji leaned over a book when the library doors flung open.  A servant, red-faced and panicked, appeared in the door.

“My Lord Reiji,” she gasped, hand to her heart.  “At the door — an Inquisitor —”

Reiji held his composure.  He carefully tucked a bookmark into his book, and closed it, standing without rush. He straightened the edges of his suit — a fresh one, without blood or ash.

“And what is his business here?”

The servant gulped down a few breaths.

“Begging your pardon, milord, but he’s — he’s saying the Lord Leo Akaba and the Lady Ray Akaba — they’ve been — executed, milord. They — they want to speak with you, to tell’s you the reasoning, to —”

“Ah,” Reiji said, a forced calm in his voice — somewhere deep inside him, he was shocked at his own apathy.  And yet, beneath it all, the core of rage still burned. “Yes, of course. I’m already aware, of course.”

The servant blinked, lips parting.

“Is that right, Lord Reiji?”

In the door, the Inquisitor appeared.  The servant looked as though she might pass out from the shock of his appearance and the fright of his being so close.  She scurried inside to put distance between them, backing off into a corner as she wrung her hands.

The Inquisitor had no eyes, so it was difficult to tell if he was looking at Reiji.  A tremor of panic rose up inside him, faced so soon with the specter of the creatures that had murdered his sister.  Blood stained his inner vision, and bile rose in his throat.

He forced himself to remain calm. A block of ice.

“I suppose you’re here to speak about my father’s dalliance with a skaa woman,” he said, as calm though reading from a dictionary. “And my sister’s half-blood.”

The servant’s eyes bulged.  His father had done extraordinarily well, hiding Ray for this long. Clearly, there hadn’t even been a whisper of his affair.

“So you were aware,” the Inquisitor said. “Interesting.”

Reiji kept his eyes steady.

“I recently discovered in one of my father’s records,” he said, waving a dismissive hand.  “Though, I must admit, it pains me to hear that it took the Ministry this long to discover my father’s indiscretion.”

The lies tasted like ash in Reiji’s mouth. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to run into his room and sob. His youth suddenly felt so prominent, now. He was only thirteen.

He was only thirteen, and he’d just watched his sister die. And now he had to lie about being glad about it.

“We received an anonymous tip,” the Inquisitor said. “You can rest assured, the break in your bloodline has been...dealt with.”

“Well, I should hope so,” Reiji said. “After all, I was the one who sent that tip.”

It was a lie that made him want to throw himself into the mists and be torn apart.

But it was this lie that was going to let him live long enough to take his revenge.

The Inquisitor’s eyebrows raised.

“Is that so,” he said.

Reiji waved another dismissive hand. 

“You can hardly think I would do so publicly,” he said. “Think of the scandal it would cause. And my father watched me so closely. It was the only way I could make certain to rectify such a heinous aberration of the Lord Ruler’s laws.”

He bowed his head at this, more to hide the hatred in his eyes than to show respect to the Lord Ruler’s foul name.

The Inquisitor considered this for a long moment. Would he take the bait? Would he believe him?

“The Lord Ruler will look favorably upon your loyalty, and your mature response,” the Inquisitor said. “I will surely inform him of the service you have done him, in upholding his laws.”

Reiji bowed his head again. He began to imagine a very detailed daydream of ripping the Lord Ruler into pieces as the mists had the Inquisitors.

“His favor is honored and well-received,” he said.

The Inquisitor smiled at him when Reiji lifted his head. It seemed his lies were working.

“I think there should be no trouble in naming you the new head of the Akaba family,” he said. “The pronouncement will arrive within the day.”

“And the official report of my father and his daughter’s deaths?” Reiji asked.

“It will be so framed as to leave scandal out of your house’s future.”

Reiji inclined his head, swallowing down the rage. The guilt. The self-hatred.

“I do have one question, Lord Akaba,” the Inquisitor said.

Reiji’s heart leaped, but he kept himself calm, tilting his head.

“Yes?”

The Inquisitor studied him for a moment, or at least, Reiji assumed he did. Inwardly, he shook. Being so close to him, after watching the other Inquisitors, after being held by his throat watching his sister lay in a pool of her own blood —

“Several of our Inquisitors have...wandered off,” the Inquisitor said. “I don’t suppose you may have heard any commotion last night, during the scuffle? Seen them about?”

Reiji blinked as calmly as he could.

The Inquisitors eaten by the mist.

They really were gone.

“I cannot say that I did,” he said. “After all, my father’s daughter left late last night. I had assumed she was executed somewhere in the city.”

The Inquisitor watched him for another long, long moment. Then he smiled. Reiji thought, perhaps, it was the kind of smile that cruel people shared with others they imagined to be as cruel as they were.

It meant, with a twist in his stomach, that he’d been awfully good at lying.

It made him feel sick.

And it made him feel powerful.

“Very well,” the Inquisitor said. “I appreciate your discretion. You will hear your appointment as the Lord of Akaba House from the Lord Ruler soon.”

“Thank you.”

The Inquisitor inclined his head. Then he turned, and left the library. Reiji watched him go. He pretended not to see the horrified look on the servant’s face — she was skaa, wasn’t she? And she’d just listened to him tell an Inquisitor about how he had mercilessly turned in his father and sister for the “crime” of Ray being half skaa.

He hated himself for the illusion. But the servant would surely pass the information on to others, and it would spread even further. No matter what the Lord Ruler’s proclamation said, everyone would know. They would believe Reiji was a coldblooded noble, who adhered to the Lord Ruler’s laws, who thought the skaa less than human.

And that would make it all the more surprising when he was the one to push the blade through the Lord Ruler’s throat.

Reiji calmly returned to his desk. He calmed opened his book again, and opened it up.

“You are dismissed,” he told the servant woman.

The woman shot him one last terrified glance, and then fled, only barely remembering to close the doors behind her.

Reiji stared at the words on the page without reading them.  Inside, the sensation of metal buzzed, ready to be burned.  There was so much to do. Plans to be made. Careful alliances to seek out. Allomancy to learn. Research to complete. It was an impossible list for an impossible task.

Overthrowing a thousand year old empire.  Killing a god.

His hands shook. He tried to still them. He had to...even when no one could see him, he had to maintain the illusion.  The more he practiced, the more natural it would feel, the less he would make mistakes —

Water appeared on the paper. Ah? Was the roof leaking?

It was a useless lie. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, a numbness spreading through him. Bile rose in his throat. Everything was threatening to crash down around him. He was alone. No one was here to see him break down.

He curled his head up onto the table, closed his eyes, and for the last time until he felt the Lord Ruler’s throat in his hands, he let himself fall apart.