#cryptic veil

[korzuan]

Cryptic Veil

Cryptic Veil character lineup. Characters Left to Right: Jason 'Jace' Brantley, Evelyn Newton, Theo Newton, and Kira Gela. Characters (C) Korzuan

[korzuanmodelling]

Kira Gela

My own character that I 3D modelled and rigged in ZBrush and Maya. I used Substance 3D Painter and Photoshop for texturing.  Kira Gela - Cryptic Veil (C) korzuanmodelling

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

The Veil ripples. Tomorrow. 8am.

[butwhybother]

Pattern & Evi

I was re-reading Oathbringer and spotted a similarity between two conversations.

See this exchange between Shallan and Pattern (Oathrbinger chapter 18):

"You just like him," Veil said, "because he tells Radiant to respect the sword."

"Mmm. Yes, very, very nice man. Wonderfully smart too."

"Why don't you marry him, then?"

Pattern buzzed. "Is that--"

"No it's not an option."

"Oh." He settled down into a contented buzz on her coat, where he appeared as a strange kind of embroidery.

Compare to this exchange between Evi and Dalinar (chapter 52):

She was silent for a time. "Could you not... let them surrender to you?"

"The Vedens aren't here to surrender. They're here to test us on the battlefield."

"And the individual men? Do they care for such reasoning as they die?"

"What? Would you like me to stop and ask each man to surrender as I prepare to strike him down?"

"Would that--"

"No, Evi. That wouldn't work."

"Oh."

I wish Pattern and Evi had a chance to meet. They could've exchanged notes on the strangeness of people and difficulties of living in a foreign land. And how wonderful Adolin is. I think they would have found similarities.

[warriorofthesky]

the biggest thing against my belief in “the unveiling is the witness’ biased interpretation of the beginning of the universe” is how it is written. i can not imagine the witness coming to the conclusion that one of the primordial forces of the universe would ever say “my man oryx”

[the-nation-of-today]

You know what SURE why not Jinxx totally chill to tease something cryptic coming May 1st I’m TOTALLY fine about it

[serpentsurgency]

Back on th’ old council before my time, I heard they culled their own Liar for never tellin’ a straight story even t’ save her life. … Funny how things can develop when people start turnin’ their backs on y’a.

- D.W.

[comatosebunny09]

the quiet game [ snip ] | sylus

‘i need you’

It’s a simple text, yet it blares through the mire that his room’s sunken into. Has him sitting up in his bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and pushing his hair back, and the sheet’s soft as it glides down his bare torso to puddle around his waist.

His thumb hovers over your message. Quivers and twitches. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath or counting his heartbeats until he blinks, waiting for you to finish. Watching those telltale bubbles appear and disappear as you struggle to form more words—more context.

But you don’t.

And it isn’t normal for you to be so brief—so cryptic. Which could mean one of two things: you’re genuinely in peril or playing a sick, cruel joke on him.

He opts for the former, used to these phases you occasionally lapse into. Where your messages lack their usual luster. He can feel the dark undertones of your words curling around him through the screen. And something cold sinks into his belly, its talons clawing at his heart.

You need him.

He’s on his feet without thinking. Pouring himself into his jeans, shrugging into a shirt, tugging his boots on. Moving with a sense of purpose through the quieted halls of his mansion, stopping only to grab his leather jacket from the coat rack and to shove his motorcycle keys into his pocket.

The underground garage swallows him whole, and the shadows of the basement dance across his features, hanging between the set of his jaws and the glabellar lines forming between his brows.

Luke and Kieran peer curiously from an alcove after Sylus’ exit. Fix each other with comically perturbed looks. Even beneath the veil of their masks, they read each other’s expressions, and they shrug.

Whatever’s got their boss on edge is none of their concern—yet. He’ll call them if he needs backup.

They’re sure of it.

[hollyseb]

I DO

Mob! Bucky x Reader - Forced Marriage AU

Warnings: swearing, violence, misogyny?, sexual content (MINORS DNI)

3.2k words

Summary; Bucky, a member of the mob, and the daughter of his enemy find themselves entangled in a complex relationship.

No fucking way.

Your throat tightened. The reflection in the mirror portrayed a stranger—pale complexion, vacant eyes.

“You look beautiful,” Nat reassured you, placing her steady hands on your bare shoulders, but you’d never felt so appalled. She was trying to comfort you but fell on deaf ears.

Your gaze dropped to the dress. It fits you perfectly, especially with your hair trailing down your back.

You wanted to rip it all off.

“Nat”, your voice meek, tears threatening to fall.

"I'll be by your side through it all, and if that mystery man dares to step out of line, well, a broken nose wouldn't hurt," she attempted a smile, but it faltered. Your best friend gave your shoulders a final squeeze.

Today is your wedding day.

As you found out yesterday. Yesterday. You seethed, manicured hands clenching.

“How could this happen to me, Nat?”, you asked through gritted teeth, the reality of the situation setting in.

Nat's gaze softened, her eyes filled with a sadness you couldn't bear to meet. "We both know why," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, the truth of her words like a knife to your heart. Your father's illicit dealings had finally caught up with you, dragging you into a web of deceit and manipulation from which there seemed to be no escape.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could I be so naive?

And so, you became a pawn in your father’s game. An object to be bought, owned and sold off at will.

It was all a show of power. You cross me, and I’ll rob your daughter of the rest of her life. You were nothing more than collateral damage.

———————————

As Bucky adjusted his tie in the mirror, the reflection staring back at him was that of a man with a steely resolve, a predator poised to strike. His jaw clenched with determination, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity.

“One last drink before you’re hitched?” Steve smirked, pushing a whiskey into his best friend's hand.

Bucky sent him a sharp look. “Come on Steve, you act like I'm not the one calling the shots here”, the glint in his eyes portraying a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

In a swift motion, he downed the alcohol and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His throat burned. He lavished the feeling.

“Marrying a woman you’ve never even seen?” Steve's grin widened, his tone holding a hint of scepticism.

Bucky dragged a hand down his face. “All part of the game, my friend” he responded cryptically, a flicker of anticipation glimmering in his eyes.

“You never know, pal, she might be a knockout”, Steve teased, a veiled reassurance towards his friend.

”Yeah. Fat fucking chance, as long as Pierce knows I can take everything he holds dear, I’m a happy man”

With a nod of agreement, Steve raised his glass in a silent salute. "I'll drink to that," he said.

———————

Deep breaths.

You felt nauseous.

You stepped into the aisle, honing your vision on the figure standing by the altar. He had his back to you but, he was tall, broad and masculine.

Ripping your eyes from the man and planting them on your feet. Just make it down the aisle without tipping over.

Bucky turned to face you. Holy shit. His surprise was palpable. He wasn’t expecting this. You knocked the breath from his lungs. You looked beautiful. Your dress moulded perfectly to your body, skin glowing. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

You felt a cool hand press against the small of your back.

“Hey”, a deep voice whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

A response far too casual for the situation at hand.

His hand moved to your waist, guiding you to face him and look at him. Fuck him. You knew this was a stupid, stubborn attempt to maintain some form of control, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

That was until he placed a finger under your chin, his touch surprisingly gentle. Oh. He is gorgeous. Sculpted face, baby blue eyes, pink lips. His touch was far too gentle for someone so evil.

“H-hi”, you stammered, your voice portraying the nervousness you felt.

Bucky’s smirk only widened at your response, as if he found amusement in your discomfort. It was infuriating. He was drinking in your wide eyes and aloof expression. You were so innocent. He almost felt bad for inviting you into his world. Almost.

He wanted to devour you.

”Well…aren’t you a sweet little thing”, his finger tilted your head back as he unashamedly raked his eyes over your features, with an almost predatory hunger.

You forced a sweet smile, concealing the disgust you felt at his patronising comment, “get your fucking hands off of me”, you retorted sharply.

Bucky’s smirk faltered for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his features, before being replaced by amusement again. “Such a filthy mouth for a pretty girl… I’ll sort that out for you”, he replied, his grip on your chin tightening.

You snarled at him, resisting the urge to clock him in his cocky face.

It was almost humorous, the way the interaction looked like a loving husband whispering sweet nothings to his wife, when it couldn’t be further from the truth.

The vows went by in a blur, all words sounding muted and unreal, until the time came to kiss the man you met half an hour ago.

Bucky couldn’t look anymore gleeful, revelling in your discomfort.

“Come on honey, I promise I’m a fantastic kisser”, he taunted, arrogance in his smirk.

You opened your mouth for a retort, but his lips landed on yours before you could protest. You hated how he was so gentle, caressing your cheek while his tongue ran across your bottom lip.

Damn it, he is a fantastic kisser.

Pulling away, you forced yourself to compose, concealing the turmoil within. He was so gentle, as if he was afraid you’d break in two at his kiss. Bucky’s touch held a power over you. You despised it, but it was overwhelming.

The reception blurred into a whirlwind of congratulatory embraces and forced smiles. Every glance from Bucky sent shivers down your spine. He was everywhere. A hand on the small of your back, an arm draped across your waist.

As the night wore on, you found yourself cornered by Bucky, his presence suffocating. His whispered promises of a future together sounded more like threats, each word tightening the knot of discomfort in your stomach.

“Is it time for that broken nose yet?” Nat whispered into your ear as you snorted at her comment, your first genuine smile all day.

“I’m ready whenever you are”, you replied, before taking her into an embrace. Her presence was a lifeline in the chaos of this ceremony.

Even after your moment of solace with Nat, Bucky's presence loomed like a dark cloud. His eyes followed your every move, logging everybody you spoke to, as he watched with an adverse gaze.

Unable to bear his suffocating presence any longer, you slipped away from the crowd, seeking refuge in the quiet solitude of the garden.

The cool night air enveloped you, offering a brief respite from the whirlwind wedding. Sitting on the wooden bench, you closed your eyes, simply focusing on breathing, before being unsurprisingly interrupted.

With a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, Bucky leaned against the stone wall, the faint glow of a cigarette illuminating his features in the darkness.

"You shouldn't be out here alone," he said, his voice low and gravelly, tinged with a hint of his streetwise charm.

"Yeah? Well, I’m fine," you replied curtly, refusing to show any vulnerability in his presence.

Bucky's smirk widened, the glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Sure you are," he said, his tone teasing. "But just in case you need a hand getting rid of any unwanted guests, you know what to say."

“Nobody’s watching here, you know? You don’t need to keep up this facade”, you replied, more angrily than you’d expected.

Bucky’s expression darkened at your accusation, a flicker of hurt crossing his features. “Facade? Come on, darlin’ you know me better than that”

”Do I?”, your voice echoed, not ready to submit to him.

He took a step closer, his movements fluid and deliberate. "Yeah, you do," he replied, his tone edgier now, devoid of its earlier teasing edge. "You think I’m doing this all for me?"

You found yourself unable to make eye contact with the mobster, “I think this is a game… where I’m being used as a pawn”, you confessed, a sadness in your voice.

Bucky was taken aback by your raw vulnerability. He lifted your chin with his forefinger, as he did in the ceremony, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were a cocktail of remorse and sincerity.

“A game? I won’t lie, doll, I’ve done things that I’m not proud of”, he swallowed hard, grappling with the actions that had led to this moment, “but I wouldn’t drag you into this twisted world simply to be a pawn”.

You fought internally, unsure of what to believe.

Bucky stepped back slightly, his eyes raking over your features as his finger drew an arc over your jaw. "I know this ain't the ideal situation for either of us," he began, his voice softer now, tinged with a hint of regret. "But we're in this together now."

Your features softened and you let yourself relax into his gentle touch. The voice in your head stressing about how dangerous this man was began to quieten. You needed this comfort.

"I want you to know," Bucky continued, his words measured yet genuine, "that I ain't gonna let anyone hurt you. Not while I'm around."

"Thank you," you murmured, the weight of the day's events finally beginning to lift from your shoulders. "I appreciate that."

Bucky offered you a small, understanding smile before gesturing toward the door leading back to the reception hall. "Come on," he said gently, "let's get back inside.”

Bucky flicked his cigarette into the darkness, the ember glowing brightly before fading into nothingness.

As the night wore on, the exhaustion of the day's events began to weigh heavily on you.

“You ready to call it a night?” Bucky asked, sweeping a stray hair behind your ear.

His eyes were fixated on yours until you replied with a simple nod.

You began saying your farewells to the guests, making sure to hug Nat especially hard. You eyed Bucky as he seemed to be having an enthralling conversation with a man you recalled being introduced to as Steve. You made a mental note to ask him about his friend.

You let Bucky guide you into his mansion, down the large halls, to the bridal suite. Everything was gorgeous, sophisticated and modern.

You hadn’t let your mind trail to what your wedding night would bring, you found yourself wondering whether he’d even stay in the same wing as you.

As you and Bucky stepped into the dimly lit room, the air was hot with anticipation, charged with the unspoken tension between you.

As you turned to face him, ready to bid him goodnight and retreat to your separate quarters, Bucky's gaze met yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, a rawness that took you by surprise.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" His voice was low, almost hesitant, betraying the confident facade he often wore. There was a hint of uncertainty in his words, a vulnerability that made your heartache.

It was a bold move, really, you both knew it. For a request you were so sure you would’ve declined earlier in the day, you found yourself taken aback.

“Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. "Yes, you can stay."

As the door clicked shut behind Bucky, you felt anticipation in the air. His gaze lingered on you, his eyes tracing the contours of your figure with a certain hunger.

“Let me take off that wedding dress," he murmured, his words laced with desire. His eyes bore into yours, daring you to resist him, daring you to deny the attraction that pulsed between you.

Your head was spinning, the way he bounced between sincerity and domination.

For a brief moment, you hesitated, the thought of shedding the symbol of your forced marriage felt like an admission of defeat, surrendering to the forces that had brought you to this moment.

The primal hunger in Bucky’s eyes convinced you, with a hesitant nod, you faced your back to him and pulled your hair over your shoulder.

Bucky’s fingers delicately worked the fastens on your dress, his gaze transfixed on your back. You felt yourself becoming conscious, truly realising for the first time that this man was going to see you at your most vulnerable.

Sensing your apprehension, the air shifted, “you’re doing great, sweetheart”, he murmured, “Tonight, it’s just you and me”.

You eased at his words, as the fabric pooled at your feet in a cascade of silk and lace.

With a tender smile, Bucky reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek with a feather-light touch. “God, you’re beautiful”, he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

His words warmed you from the inside out. There was something more than desire in his gaze. It ignited a fire in you that threatened to consume everything in its path.

In the dim light of the room, you could see the raw hunger in Bucky's eyes, the longing that burned like a fire deep within his soul. But beneath the hardened exterior, there was a vulnerability—a longing for connection, for intimacy.

You doubted he was some sort of blushing virgin, especially with the stunt he pulled at the altar, but it was hard to believe he looked at other women like this.

“W-will you… are you going to…”, you faltered, not quite knowing how to ask him the question.

”Going to what, doll?”

“You know… it’s an arranged marriage. Are you planning to…see other women?”, you ventured, your voice hesitant, uncertain of how to broach the topic.

Bucky's gaze softened as he sensed the gravity of your words, his expression shifting from one of intensity to one of attentiveness. He reached out, gently grasping your hand in his, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

“I understand why you might have doubts, especially given the circumstances," he began, his voice calm and reassuring. "But I want you to know that I take this marriage seriously. This isn’t a game to me. You’re my wife".

His words carried a weight of sincerity that eased some of the tension in your chest. "I won't deny that my past may have been... adventurous," he continued with a wry smile, "but when it comes to you, I'm all in. I won't be seeing other women. You have my word."

“O-okay”, a small smile playing on your lips.

“And just so we’re clear”, he added, a playful glint in his eye, “you’re not allowed to see other men either”.

You rolled your eyes at that, your smile widening.

Bucky's eyes softened as they landed on your lips, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his own. "You've got a beautiful smile, you know," he remarked, his tone unexpectedly sincere.

As you met his gaze once more, you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes sparkled with a warmth that mirrored your own.

“Thank you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, feeling the electricity between you intensify with each passing moment. The hunger in his eyes mirrored your own.

With a boldness you didn't know you possessed, you reach out to him, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt as you draw him closer. The air crackles with tension as your lips meet in a searing kiss, passion and need colliding in a heady rush of sensation.

His hands pulled on your hips, desperate to get you impossibly closer. Your head was spinning.

Bucky gently walked you to the bed, falling onto the sheets when your calves knocked the frame. He ate up the gasp that escaped from your lips hungrily.

“Fuck. I want to devour you”, he murmured against your lips, before taking your bottom one between his teeth. You could only gasp in response as he rolled it.

Bucky’s hands grabbed your wrists, gently placing them above your head. A stark contrast between his gentleness and dominance. His lips trailed down the curve of your neck, nipping and tucking, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

You arched against him, a soft “B-Bucky” escaping your lips.

Bucky released a guttural moan as you bucked your hips into the muscular thigh positioned between your legs.

”Easy, sweetheart”, he whispered, his voice husky with desire. “I don’t want to overwhelm you”.

Bucky's hands trembled slightly as he fought to restrain his desire, the urge to lose himself in the moment almost overwhelming. His breath came in ragged gasps as he tried to control the primal urges that threatened to consume him.

His hands, which had been so commanding just moments before, now moved with a feather-light touch.

"I need to slow down," he muttered, more to himself than to you, his voice strained with effort.

You placed a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your touch, “we can slow down, Bucky”, you whispered reassuringly, your eyes filled with concern.

Bucky's struggle was like a battle raging within him, the conflicting desires tearing at his very core. He was used to being in control, but with you, he felt a primal urge to let go, to surrender to the passion that threatened to consume him.

But he couldn't. Not yet. Not with you.

He looked into your eyes, his own filled with gratitude and longing. "Thank you," he said softly, his voice tinged with relief. "I just want to make sure I'm not pushing you too far, too fast."

He’d never cared for the women he’d taken to bed in the past. There was something about you, an innocence he wanted to preserve, but simultaneously fuck out of you, make it his own.

“I’m okay, I promise”, you reassured him.

“No…it’s me. I want to lose myself in you but… I won’t be able to control myself. I want to do this right”, he admitted.

You caressed his face with your hand, letting a silence fall over you and your husband. He traced circles on your bare skin with his fingertips.

Bucky's arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a warm embrace, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. Feeling the weight of the day finally catching up with you, you nestled into Bucky's embrace, allowing the rhythm of his steady breathing to lull you into a peaceful slumber.

Bucky drifted into a calm sleep, the calmest he’d had in months, until the shrill ring of his phone shattered the silence. Groaning, he fumbled for the source of the disturbance, his hand eventually finding the cold metal of his cell phone on the nightstand.

"Steve?" Bucky muttered, his voice thick with sleep as he answered the call, his mind struggling to shake off the fog of slumber.

"Yeah, it's me," Steve's urgent voice crackled through the line, cutting through Bucky's drowsiness like a knife. "We got a problem”.

Bucky sent a glance to your sleeping form, the sheets pooling around your waist, with your chest lifting rhythmically.

He ran a hand down his face and groaned, not wanting to leave you. “How bad is it?”, he asked, debating whether to throw the phone at the wall.

“Bad enough”, Steve replied grimly.

——————————

Taglist!

@casa-boiardi @winterslove1917 @writingpastmybedtime @thealyrs @kandis-mom @blackhawkfanatic @scott-loki-barnes @mrsevans90 @melsunshine

[thewertsearch]

@manorinthewoods asked: Vriska and Eridan have now killed one person each. Tavros and Feferi's respective moons have been destroyed; as such, they cannot be revived via dream selves or the moon-crypt slabs. What do you think will happen now? ~LOSS (18/5/24) @manorinthewoods asked: Welcome to Murderstuck, aka Homestuck's version of Canaan House. Who do you think's going to survive this? ~LOSS (22/5/24) Anonymous asked: tavros and feferi are D----EAD! do you think they'll stay dead? you've already stated your opinion that there are death flags like crazy all over vriska, so do you think anyone else will die? if so, who? Anonymous asked: Now that the bodies have started to hit the floor, what's your prediction for who's gonna survive to meet the humans?

I'm actually doing to do something a little different this time, and analyze the situation primarily from an author's perspective, rather than an in-universe one. I had a lot of fun doing that with yesterday's Kanaya post, so I want to try it again.

Let's enumerate the remaining trolls, in ascending order of how likely I think they are to kick the bucket (😳) during Murderstuck.

There's no chance whatsoever that Sollux will die. His Doom prophecy is fulfilled, and if he were to die a third time, it would break his long-established duality theme. Plus, he'd have predicted it, and would have been complaining about it since Hivebent. He's fine.

Death flag score: 0/10.

We just got Aradia back. She's not even involved in Murderstuck, seemingly travelling to the Furthest Ring after being resurrected, so none of the murderers can touch her anyway.

Aradia is a powerful time manipulator who can freeze even the most dangerous enemies. It would take a lot more than Eridan and Gamzee to defeat someone who can stalemate Perfect Jack, and I predict that she'll survive the rest of the Act with ease.

Plus, killing her again so soon would feel really cheap. Been there, done that.

Death flag score = 0.5/10

Karkat and Terezi are too important to die.

This doesn't always guarantee a character's survival - A Song of Ice and Fire comes to mind - but ASOIAF kind of proves my point, doesn't it? Martin can throw all the Red Weddings he likes at us, but everyone still kind of knows that the really important characters aren't going to die until their arcs are complete. If A Dream of Spring ever actually comes out, Daenerys will still be around, and you can take that to the bank.

So no, I don't think Karkat and Terezi will be going anywhere. Now that Kanaya appears to be dead, they're undeniably the most important trolls remaining, alongside Vriska. And we'll get to Vriska.

Death flag score: 1/10.

I know it's weird to predict that an already deceased character won't die, but I wrote an entire post last night about why I believe this to be the case.

tl;dr: it doesn't make narrative sense for Kanaya to stay dead.

Death flag score: 2/10.

Now, we're onto the characters who I think might actually die.

Gamzee's still alive at the end of the countdown, so he'll at least survive the next couple of hours.

Certainly, his position seems rather precarious. His stated intent to wipe out the entire Veil will make him a lot of enemies very quickly - and based on the image above, he clearly gets into some sort of trouble. That scratch almost looks like it could be the work of Jack's sword.

However, I have a hard time believing the Most Important Character In Homestuck is going to die less than halfway through Homestuck. He's been saying all sorts of cryptic nonsense lately, and he strikes me as someone whose role in the story will expand even more than it already has. Gamzee is the one character on this list we know will stay relevant for the entire comic.

I don't think he's going to achieve his murder mission, of course. I think he'll probably be 'defeated' somehow, and expelled from the Veil by the surviving trolls, only to pop up again sometime later. There's still a chance that he'll be killed - but if he is, I'm 100% sure that he'll return in some form. Gamzeesprite would be even worse than Calsprite, in my opinion.

Death flag score: 3/10.

Yes, I still believe Vriska will die - but I don't know if she'll die in Murderstuck.

Scratch positioned her as someone who will perpetuate a monumental, large-scale mistake, and I don't think there's anything she could do on the Veil that fits the bill.

However, Vriska is more imaginative than I am. She could easily pull a trick out from up her sleeve that I didn't see coming - some terrible, horrible idea that earns all of Scratch's foreshadowing in one fell swoop. Vriska is known for her Incidents, and you never know when the next one is on the horizon.

Death flag score: 4/10.

There's not a lot tying Equius and Nepeta to the Veil, is there?

They don't have strong relationships any of the remaining trolls, and even among the B-team, they've barely had any prominence since we've left Alternia. Killing one or both of them would up the stakes of Murderstuck without introducing the narrative issues that, say, a dead Karkat would cause.

Plus, if one of them dies, then the other would immediately gain an incredibly strong motivation, and become a more prominent character overnight. I already like Nepeta - but a heartbroken, vengeful Nepeta hunting Eridan down across time and space? That's a fucking arc.

They could also both die, and return to the story from another direction. It hasn't escaped my notice that almost all the 'important' trolls are Prospit Dreamers, and the two Furthest Ring explorers are Derse girls. I've been wondering for a while now if the solution to the Veil's bloated cast is to split the trolls back into the Red and Blue Teams, with the Red Team joining the kids outside the session, and the Blue Team joining Aradia in the Ring for some secondary mission. I guess that implies Tavros will be resurrected, but there do seem to be hints that that might happen.

I don't want either of these two to die, but... well, killing them would raise a lot of interesting possibilities.

Death flag score (both of them together): 6/10

Death flag score (one of them) : 7.5/10.

Eridan is screwed.

Neither the story nor the trolls can allow him to ally with Jack and lead him to the Veil, and they'll do anything they can to stop him. I don't think anyone's inclined to show him mercy, either - Kanaya and Feferi were very popular.

I don't really see any way out for him. He has no allies, he can't Hopesplode everyone at once, and he's never shown himself to be particularly resourceful. I think if there's one troll practically guaranteed to be Murderstucked, it's him.

Death flag score: 9/10.

[aroacenezhaanddainsleif]

when I played Caribert, I was pretty disappointed about the lack of impact Dain seemed to have on Kaeya, honestly. during Kaeya's hangout, he didn't mention the weird cryptic blond dude who just dropped family lore once, which I thought would have been pretty important?

but in truth, I think Dain actually had a HUGE impact on Kaeya.

we can all know that from Kaeya's personal lore and former events that Kaeya had very conflicted feelings over his duty to Khaenri'ah and his love for Mondstadt, even with his estranged relationship with Diluc (which now seems partly fixed?), but in the performance route of Kaeya's hangout, Kaeya makes his choice.

The story of Prince Qubad is a very, very thinly veiled metaphor for Khaenri'ah all throughout, and then we finally get to the end scene of the play:

Kaeya: When I departed my beloved home to fight in a foreign land, I did so to honor his (my father's) wishes and for my duty to our people. Kaeya: alas, is this fate's grand design… that I should spend the rest of my days in a foreign land, till I am laid to rest in a grave far from home? K: Must it be so…? K: my dear audience, I ask you this: do you believe in fate? if fate decreed that your life was to end in tragedy, what would you do? Traveler: I would challenge my fate, and rise above it. / I would bravely face my fate. K: then so must it be! I shall discard this intaglio, and rid myself of the shackles of fate. G: my dear prince, do you intend to betray your father, and abandon your heritage? K: fate means to send the machinations of war to every corner of the land, to fan the flames of conflict til they engulf the entire world…

K: fate would see my sword tainted with the blood of innocents, that the bright banner of my homeland might fly in every nation known to mankind. K: but I shall not bow to the will of fate. I am no pawn in heaven's plan. K: I, Kaeya Qubad, will spend the rest of my days in a foreign land, til I breathe my last in a place far from home. K: but I must walk this path, or freedom dies by my hand. goodbye, my tribe and kin. farewell, sweet land of my birth.

after a lifetime of questioning his role, Kaeya makes his choice for Mondstadt. and I think this happening after meeting Dain isn't a coincidence. (and no, not in a soulmate way or shipping way- this is Kaeya's moment of choice, not infatuation.)

after not only learning the history of his origins, Kaeya meets a Khaenri'ahn who... doesn't want to return Khaenri'ah to its glory days? who is more focused on helping others and minimizing damage than causing more for his own gain? who chose his path and has not budged since, even through loss?

Kaeya gets to see someone who is so Khaenri'ahn, so human at his core, someone who cares not for the fate and tragedy of their nation. Kaeya gets to meet someone from his homeland who tells him to leave it all behind, who tells him he should take the chance he has been given at his own life; who actively discourages the idea of Kaeya being a fated "prince" or being indebted to Khaenri'ah.

even though he never said it, I think meeting Dainsleif helped Kaeya choose his own path, which is all Dain ever truly asked of him, anyway.

good for Kaeya.

(i understand that i used "ship" tags but those are more for visibility and duo name than anything else. idm if you ship them, i just request that your tags do not turn my analysis post into a ship post, pls! :)

[korzuan]

Cryptic Veil: The ABC Trio

A medieval and modern versions of some of my new own characters.

Characters Left to Right: Blake Ivrin, Amara Jennifer "AJ" Gela, and Caden Gela.

Characters (C) Korzuan.

[hamlets-ak]

seaside sanctuary ༊*·˚

synopsis: during your vocation on a greek island, you and timothée spend some time on a secluded beach

The magic of Milos had settled over you gently and clingingly with its volcanic rock formations and golden shores. Not even two weeks had passed since the day you and Timothée arrived on the island, and you had already become one with the locals; traveling in all its cryptic passages and discovering the heart of the town.

You had found happiness in simple and frugal things like walking along pebbled pathways and marble streets with your boyfriend’s palm inside yours, fingers conjoined and tangled, quick pecks on the cheek and forehead, small glances and furtive smiles, soft laughs, warm or cold hugs, his head balancing tiredly on your shoulder and yours burying on his chest listening to his steady heartbeat.

It was Timothée’s idea to invite your families since you had only a month at your disposal before returning back to work and it was an opportunity to spend some time with them. Besides, it was such a beautiful trip, you had to share this unrepeatable experience. 

Altogether you traveled with your sailboat around the island and stayed on secluded beaches, accessible only by the sea. Hours and hours had been spent under the sun; swimming, snorkeling, laying on the deck, enjoying the sunset at anchor. 

Blazing afternoon sunrays penetrated your skin and blinded your vision, as the briny breeze fanned your face, pulling back strands of salty hair, tangling them with the blowing fair wind. 

The Aegen was opening around you; a sapphire-colored sea that touched the line of the sky, extending to a wild yet quiet horizon. It was summer and the world was in a splendor. 

Your arms were leaning on the silver railings of the boat and your gaze was up in the bright blue veil, watching the seagulls fly high and dive at the water, then rising up again, squawking loudly to each other. 

A burst of familiar boisterous laughter led your eyes to the back at the cockpit. You couldn’t help but smile before even allowing your stare to pierce that dirty glass, only at the sound of his voice. Your head slowly fell to the side and stayed balanced on top of your shoulder. 

Timothée’s radiant smile made you unconsciously laugh a little. And he must've noticed because even through the thick glass and the heavy blanket of water and salt covering it, he stared back at you with an electrifying glint and grinned widely as he bent down to knock at the glass a few times and then waved at you. 

« Let’s go! », he told you. 

You pushed yourself off the railings. Hushed murmurs accompanied by melodious giggles forced you to change your gaze from scenic islets and coves to a small group of people. Barefoot and sun-dazed, their hearts still left in the old pirates’ hideout, Kleftiko, your parents and Pauline, were laying relaxed on the boat. Their swimsuits were on, bodies still wet from their previous dive, drying under shining sunrays. Green beer bottles with the word ‘Mythos’ written on their lebels were reflecting golden beams of light, as cigarettes burnt in the air alongside sprinkles of brine and rust.

« Pauline? », you called her name. She sat better at her elbows and raised her eyes that were covered with black shades. « You’re coming? »

« Nah, » she replied throwing her head back. « I’m tired. I’ll just stay here and take a nap. Have fun though. » You nodded at her words and moved slowly and steadily to the back, hands holding tightly the ropes of the boat.

« Hey, » Timothée grinned at you. 

« Hi, » you greeted him and the Captain. « Where are we right now? »

« We are at Sykia, » Timothée replied. He wrapped his arm around you, letting it fall loose on your shoulder as he held you.

« Yeah that’s right, » the Captain spoke with his heavy Greek voice that held a melodious tone only people from Cyclades had. « Once you pass that tunnel, you’ll end up in the cave, » he pointed in the direction you were already looking at. Timothée nodded in understandment, arms snaking in your lower spine, bringing you closer to his body. « And when you get inside, you'll notice that a part of the roof of the cave is missing. It was submerged years ago and now there is a kind of natural skylight. »

« Oh that’s cool, » you said turning to the scenery while Timothée’s nose was mindlessly circling your cheek and temple, tracing soft lines over your brow. Sun kissed your faces and drifted at the space between, giving away a sheen. 

« It is cool, » the Captain continued. « I mean, what are you even doing in Milos if you haven’t visited Sykia? » You both lightly laughed at his words as you took Timothée’s hand in yours and pressed a pair of soft lips on top of it before he lightly patted your cheek with his hand making you grin, melting at his warm touch, and hug him tight. 

You had anchored close to the cave, less than half of a nautical mile. Waves were luring the boat along with them giving it a soft waft. 

Timothée waited for you to approach the edge of the boat before jumping off the stern into a calm steady sea with a thunderous splash that sprinkled you from head to toe, and then paddled the water. Quickly he emerged, throwing his head back and pulling pieces of hair that were stuck on his forehead, out of his face. With cold water stinging your skin, you lightly stepped back gasping.

« Come in! », Timothée laughed and motioned his head to you.

« It’s cold! », you slouched your shoulders, arms wrapped around your stomach. You glanced back regretting your decision of not staying with Pauline to take a nap as well.

« Come in! », he said in a more demanding tone. You bit your lips and shook your head. « I’m going to splash you. »

“No, you wouldn’t.”

« You sure about that? », he asked tossing a small wave of water in your direction. 

« Timothée, it’s cold! »

« I’ll splash you. » You looked at him for a few seconds. « I’ll do it. »

« Fine, » you groaned making him smile, and without much thought jumped into the sea. 

A freezing feeling struck then gradually consumed your body. Nothing but the sea was surrounding you and you kicked your feet through bitter water, gasping for air. You fought for a moment breathlessly to come to the surface and then looked at Timothée who was already a bit ahead of you.

« Wait, wait, wait! », you shouted at him. He stopped and turned around to look at you, as you paddled along the blue to be closer to him. Timothée couldn’t help but laugh, watching you all puffed, your legs weightless kicking an uncharted abyss below. 

Together you glided the blue, reaching the tunnel Captain told you about. Your head moved up too distracted from watching the brown-greenish rocks above your head. Tim pulled your hand and pressed a wet kiss on your cheek.

« Let’s go, » he said, his voice echoing loud all around as if coming from speakers.

The cave had no roof just like the Captain described it. Sun rays were lighting the inside of the cave, creating amazing colorations that enchanted you. It was a unique miracle every visitor should see. 

On the inside was a small pebbled beach, with rocks and crystal clear waters. There was no one there. Just the two of you.

Like true children of the sun, you swam in the idyllic calm and then ran to the pebbled shore, free, repeating the gestures of athletes of Delos.

« Aren’t you afraid it’s going to fall and crush us down? », you told him as your hands cupped in the air the part of the cave that was still up. Your bodies were close to each other, so close you could hear the smile forming on his lips.

« It’s been like that for so many years, why does it have to fall now that we are here? », he asked. You rolled your eyes and chuckled. 

« I’m just saying, » you mumbled. He breathed out heavily which made you turn in question. « What? », you looked at him.

« Oh, nothing, » he laughed a little, pulling back his wet hair. You kept staring at him for a few seconds watching droplets watering the rocks below you. 

« I’ve never been happier. » He wore a dreamful smile. « And I wish every day could be like that. »

« Like what? », his eyebrow slightly raised. Your mouth curled up thinking of your response as your gaze turned back to the crystal pure tapestry of the sky.

« Waking up together… making love… having breakfast… going for a walk… swimming… making love again and then having a bath together. » Your words caused a boyish grin to appear on his face and you imitated his expression. « Eating together, listening to music, watching the sunset… you laughing and me laughing because you are laughing… telling you how much I love you… »

« Sounds good to me, » he said and leaned to kiss your shoulder. You pouted your lips and looked down. Timothée frowned and then turned to the side, balancing on his one elbow, to take a better look at you.

« You won’t tell me how much you love me back? », you bit your lips trying not to smile. His face flushed at your mincing manner and how you pronounced the world ‘love’. He looked away.

« Oh, of course, I’ll tell you, » he bent lower his head and you tented your neck to catch his lips, your hand holding back his hair as he moved on top of you, dripping water running on your body. He breathed out hot air on your face making your head fall back trying to get some oxygen inside before returning to him, your heads touching and lips almost stitched together. 

« Y/N, » he said voice deep echoing inside you. « I really need you to know this. »

« You don’t have to say anything. »

« No, I have to, » Tim gulped. « You walked by chance into my very messy life and from day to day, I started to breathe better. Before you, without you, I loved nothing. With you, I have accepted more things. I have learned to live. That's probably why I’ve always mixed my love for you with so much gratitude. » Your mouth slightly opened and eyes glanced away. « I mean every word. »

Without warning you kissed him on the lips. He let out a muffled sound from the force with which your mouth touched his. 

« I wouldn’t have loved you any less, if you didn’t say anything, » you told him. Your stare was fixed on his plum reddish lips that tasted like salt and apricots and cherries. « But now that you did, all I can do is love you more. »

He smiled. His forehead brushed against yours as he let you lick away his grin and kiss him. First slow, sweet, soft; then harder, fiery, urgent, like a poem of Odysseas Elytis.

It was a true sisyphean work watching the way the lurking glint of your eyes and your wolfish grin dig up his most shameful secrets, without ripping the animal from within and burying himself in your streams of love and delicate words.

The waft’s stroke maneuvered between you, warm like a teenage memory, spreading sprinkles of salt and rust to the air. Bodies entangled in summer thunders, as the gentle splash of water on your toes offered a kind of peace, privacy, and safety that you had both missed. 

You flapped and then stayed there in comfortable silence. But as you watched the horizon slowly bleed from the crevice of the tunnel, Timothée couldn't think of the swollen sun, honeycombs, and wasted old summers.

The only thing he had in mind was how much he loved you, how much you loved him - because he knew that - and how much he couldn't wait any longer for you to live together forever.

You laid together, eyes gazing at the moon and the starlit sky, bodies hugging one another.

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS ABT THIS BLOG-

1. Wth ia with the binary codes- makes me wanna translate everything-

2. Who's he?

3. Not a question but I love Ur art style! ^^

being cryptic :3c

2. It's Eclipse, I'm just being super cryptic and secretive about it until his official reveal :3c

3. thank you!

[kookslastbutton]

Cryptic Veil ༓ jjk (m) | Series Masterlist

✑ Summary: Unable to bear the young girl forced to be the new vampire king's bride, you take her place at the unveiling ceremony—the night of.

Pairing: vampire king!jungkook x villager fem!reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, dark, supernatural, royalty, arranged marriage, e2l, mini-series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: tbd

Warnings: ancient customs, blood, supernatural themes, manipulation all around, + more will be specified later

Release date: October 27

Now Playing: Blood in The Wine, Funeral, Castles...

A/N: literally not even close to Halloween but I always wanted to try my hand at supernatural. This will be my first attempt (and maybe last depending haha). Anyway, lmk if you wanna be tagged 💞

༓ ch. I — "I was given a heart before I was given a mind"

༓ ch. II — "A thirst for pleasure and war"

༓ ch. III — "A hunger we keep inside"

༓ ch. IV — "We fell from the sky with grace"

༓ ch. V — "There's beauty in your beast"

Masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[seoafin]

dog days are over | chapter one

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru warnings/tags (for this chapter): none, but please heed overall fic warnings word count: ~3.2k

fic masterlist read on ao3

“Suguru…you’re getting married?”

Your eyes are wide as you examine Suguru in a new light.

Marriage…that’s…that’s a big step isn’t it? Already? Do people get married at twenty-two nowadays? You aren’t sure. In fact, you don’t really know what people your age do. But you’re sure that whatever Suguru decides, you will support him fully. Even if he desires to get married at the early age of twenty-two. Who are you to come in the way of Suguru's apparent desire to get married?

Suguru doesn’t even blink at your words. “Of course not,” he replies smoothly, expertly dicing carrots into small cubes on the cutting board. He finishes, puts the knife down, and looks at you reassuringly. “It was just a matter of propriety. I couldn’t just leave that girl waiting for hours on end for Satoru, now could I?”

You shake your head, smiling back. Of course he would. Because Suguru is a good person who would keep a girl company at a matchmaking ceremony that Satoru either refused to show up to or forgot. You aren’t surprised to hear it. Both the fact that Suguru spent his afternoon entertaining her, and that Satoru had neglected to go to it in the first place, or even mention it to you.

Marriage…

You think of white dresses, veils, shiromukus. Endless white fabrics. Black kimonos. Cups of Sake. You think of temples, the reception, the planning. All the different options for catering and flowers and wedding invitations. Your head spins. Weddings. Marriage. Abstract concepts to you. Foreign in their conventionality. You’ve never had the luxury of dwelling too long of what a hypothetical wedding would entail. You had no use for it, really. Though you did occasionally think about how Shoko would look on her wedding day. 

Suguru is calling your name.

You blink, regaining the smile on your lips, hoping he didn’t ask you a question you had not heard. “Y-yes?”

“Just keeping you with me,” he hums, getting started on the mushrooms and potatoes. “What were you thinking about?”

“Weddings are complicated,” you say seriously. But then you think of Shoko in a wedding dress, Suguru and Satoru in black kimonos, and decide that Shoko would make a lovely bride just as Satoru and Suguru would make lovely grooms. “I hope I get to see all of you married one day.”

Though the thought of Shoko getting married disturbs you. You think of seeing her even less than you usually do and frown. Twenty-two really is a bit too young, isn’t it? She hasn’t even finished medical school yet! You force yourself away from your thoughts, regarding Suguru brightly.

“What did the two of you talk about?” You ask eagerly. 

An amused glint flickers in his dark gaze. Almost teasingly. “Flowers.”

“Flowers?”

“Flowers.”

The girl had invited Suguru to see the sprawling garden at her estate and the special lotuses she tended to daily. He politely declined. You are slightly disappointed at this. You think of Satoru and Suguru’s wedding. You think of a faceless third, a potential bride that could handle Satoru and Suguru’s tempestuous natures. A calming, dignified force. You think she’ll be beautiful, befitting the two of them. 

“Was she pretty?”

Suguru stops, knife pressed to the cutting board, mushroom split in two. He lifts his gaze, returning to your expectant gaze with an unreadable one before his expression softens. “I suppose.”

You stare at him. He…supposes? Just what is that supposed to mean? Some new cryptic way of conveying his interest? Maybe he’s embarrassed. Maybe he doesn’t want to admit it.

The amused smile returns to his lips. “I was just a temporary fill in for Satoru, nothing more.”

He resumes cutting. Finishes. Heats up oil in a large pot and pushes the vegetables into it with a knife.

He’s too modest. You’re sure he’s downplaying himself. She had invited him to her estate for a second meet, hadn’t she? You guess Satoru and Suguru and yes, even Shoko are at an age most would consider eligible for marriage. They’ll get married soon, embark on the next adventure of their lives and you’ll…

You’ll be content.

“Have you thought about it?” He asks nonchalantly. “Marriage?”

You falter, a lapse in your thoughts at Suguru’s inquiring gaze. “Not at all,” you say truthfully. “I can’t even imagine it.” Someone loving you? The thought of someone finding something worthwhile in you makes you feel greatly disturbed when you decided long ago that romantic endeavors were useless in your case. But even that line of thinking is arrogant of you. Nobody has ever shown interest in you in the twenty-one years you’ve been alive, and you are sure that even the slightest interest in you would only end with disappointment.

There is something fundamentally wrong with you. You would rather the vulnerable truth of it all not be laid bare and dissected by a scorned lover you disappointed in some way, because you had not been able to live up to the expected standards of romantic love. You would say something wrong, do something wrong. You wouldn’t understand. You don't think you'd be recover, and even the thought of it makes you feel vaguely ill.

You’re not naive. You know that love doesn’t have to be a factor in marriage, but if marriage was a necessity, then what was wrong with hoping for love, romance, passion? You’ve seen the well bred women of jujutsu society, the ones whose last names hold importance on some level, cultivated for the singular purpose of being a wife, a mother, sheltered away in their estates awaiting the inevitable. You think these girls deserve far more respect for being able to flawlessly navigate jujutsu society than you do, as a working jujutsu sorcerer. 

You also think you want better for Satoru. You think he deserves love and everything else he’s found in Suguru. You’re happy for him. For Suguru. Because even someone like you knows how rare it is to find what the two of them have.

You exhale. “But nothing’s expected of me anyway." You've never even been kissed. "I don’t have a lover, or even parents. I’m nobody important. But you, Satoru, and Shoko…" A self deprecating smile. "It seems that I’ll have to learn to live without you guys soon.” You’d be lonely. But you at least had Megumi and Tsumiki, and even Mimiko and Nanako. You were sure they’d still need you for a few more years. And then…

You’ve never thought about the future. Not to this extent. You’re unsure of what your life would be without Suguru, Satoru, and Shoko. You’re unsure if you’d even exist. 

As long as you’re alive, you’d persist. Somehow. And if you died along the way, well. You suppose you wouldn’t have to put too much thought into the future then, would you?

You must look troubled. Suguru clears his throat. You look up, just as the smell of curry fills your nose. 

He lifts up an inviting spoonful of curry. “For you.”

It takes you a few seconds to completely pull out of your thoughts, and to register the spoon in his grip. You learn forward automatically, mumble ‘thank you for the food,’ and eat his offering. The curry is delicious, savory with a sweet note that can’t just be attributed to the apples you had seen him blending before to mix into the sauce. Your gaze drops to an opened packet on the counter.

“Dark chocolate?”

“A tip I got from some of the housewives in the complex,” Suguru replies, satisfied with your response. “They said that it’d add an additional note of flavor. I’m guessing it worked…?”

You nod vigorously. “It’s delicious!”

Of course Suguru’s made good with the housewives in the fancy apartment complex the two of them live in with the kids. Suguru wanted a big kitchen. Satoru wanted a view. The penthouse seemed to both their tastes.

It’s a lovely apartment, with a large sprawling living room that includes ceiling high bookshelves, an open kitchen with a long island, and stairs that spiral to a second floor. Accommodating two adults, four kids and more, easily. It brings a smile to your face to see traces of Satoru and Suguru, and all the kids all over the apartment. You’re sure the confetti and colored paper scraps on top of the kotatsu are from Mimiko and Nanako and Tsumiki. Some school project that involved copious amounts of glue and glitter. There’s a book you bought for Megumi on the couch. Just as the bookshelves are full of Suguru’s own books. The big jar of sugar in one of the upper cabinets of the kitchen (far away from the kids’ reach) is Satoru’s. To add into his cereal, tea and anything else accommodating his usual sugary diet. There’s an identical jar back at your apartment. Satoru’s sugar jar.

To Satoru and Suguru and the girls, Megumi, and Tsumiki, it’s home.

Suguru’s eyes crease with the curve of his lips, pleased. “I’m glad you like it.” 

“Everyone’s going to love it.” Especially the twins, you think. Chocolate in their curry seemed to be exactly the kind of thing they’d delight at, in the small bursts of childlike wonder they rediscovered after Suguru rescued them. They followed after Satoru with their sweet tooths. However, after Nanako had been found with a cavity, Suguru had been forced to put a hard limit on their sugar intake, much to their disappointment.

Suguru gives the curry a stir, almost absentmindedly, as if he’s pondering something.

“I think about it,” he says, after a small silence. “Getting married.”

Oh.

Of course Suguru has thought about marriage. What, with all the marriage talks and matchmaking ceremonies and lovely elegant women in their pretty kimonos, who probably knew all the perfect ways to serve tea and facilitate conversation in all matters of talk. Suguru would make a perfect husband. Anybody would be lucky to marry Suguru. Charming and kind and handsome. 

You’ve begun to formulate a question about whether or not anyone’s caught his or Satoru’s eye, when you hear a thundering of footsteps. 

“We’re backkkkkkk!” Nanako hollers, rushing into the open living space, pulling Mimiko along with her. “Papa, are you making curry? It smells good!”

Mimiko nods her agreement, tugging on Suguru’s apron. Suguru greets them with a smile, untying his apron and pulling her up into his arms, just Satoru strolls into the room, Tsumiki at his side, Megumi trailing a few steps behind them.

“I’m starved!” Satoru announces, peering over the stovetop at the boiling curry. When a hand sneaks for a piece of chocolate, Suguru slaps his hand away. 

Suguru takes the chocolate away and puts it into a drawer as Satoru gawks. “It’s not the kind you’d like anyway.”

“Tsumiki, Megumi,” you start. “How’s school?”

You have regrettably not been able to visit as much as you wish you could. Your studies kept you busy. Your missions kept you out of Tokyo. You hope your absence isn’t missed too much. You read that children should grow up in stable environments. Your schedule was the last thing from stable.

Tsumiki beams. “I’ve got a part in the school play. We’re putting on Hachikazuki-hime!”

You make a mental note to grab the date from Satoru so you can clear your schedule. Tsumiki would be graduating elementary school soon. Already onto middle school. Children grow up so quickly. You’d have to take as many pictures as you could to compile an elementary school picture book for all the kids.

“Is that why you guys were all at the school so late?”

She nods. “Ah, and Megumi hasn’t gotten into a fight in a month,” she says excitedly. “It’s a record!”

The aforementioned boy makes a face. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

You grin, ruffling the boy’s hair. “That is a record!” Satoru had taken care of an incident a month ago in which you had been called to the school over an altercation between Megumi and another male student. You hadn’t been able to make it. You didn’t ask what Satoru had done, but you have a suspicious inkling that it had been waved away with a twirl of Satoru’s trusty black card.

You catch a glimpse of the clock above the refrigerator and balk. You snatch up your bag from the floor and wrap Tsumiki and Megumi in your arms and squeeze.

“I have to go now! I’ll see you guys later.”

“You’re not staying for dinner?” Mimiko asks quietly, peering up at you through her black bangs.

A sheepish breath escapes you. “I have a lot of homework, unfortunately.” You’d get takeout from that new tempura restaurant that opened up a couple of blocks away from your apartment. Then it was back to the books for you.

Satoru frowns. “You can’t stay an hour?”

Nanako and Mimiko and even Tsumiki voice their agreement.

Even Suguru looks displeased. Though you suppose it’s your fault. It had been your intention to stay until…

Suguru wanted to get married. He was thinking of marriage. With Satoru, with some other faceless bride to be. All three of them. You had said it yourself, hadn’t you? You’d have to learn to live without them. 

All of this is just temporary. 

You turn to the kids. “Why don’t you guys wash up for dinner?”

One by one, they shuffle off to their rooms. Megumi gives you an inquiring stare, but you wave him off.

“I’ve got a lot more work than I thought…” you trail off underneath their twin scrutiny. “I think it’d be best for me to go home for today.”

“Home,” Satoru repeats. His lips twist, effectively staunching all the words that would undoubtedly tell you exactly what he thinks about your decaying one bedroom apartment that had become your home after you graduated. You were untethered after graduation. While it was an occasion, jujutsu tech had been your home for better or worse for four years. It was the first place you had truly thought of as a home. And to leave it…

Yaga had offered you your room on campus, if you wanted to stay. But it didn’t seem right. Not without Suguru, Satoru, and Shoko. You found your apartment off a flyer attached to a pinboard while at a public library. Shoko had visited the apartment with you, negotiated rent down with the landlord, and the lease had been signed with little fanfare. It was small enough that you wouldn’t feel too lonely. Big windows overlooking a courtyard in the back. She hadn’t been thrilled about it (Satoru and Suguru even less so), but it was clean with a well worn floor and chips in the wall adjacent to the kitchen from what you presumed was to measure a child’s height. It endeared you to the apartment immediately.

Your landlord had informed you that a single mother had lived in your apartment before vacating it. You thought that there must have been love in your apartment once. So much love that a child could grow up happily scribbling away on the same walls you woke up to everyday. Maybe, somehow, this love would make you feel less lonely.

Your apartment was home. 

“Then let me pack you—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” You say hurriedly, backing towards the foyer. “I’d hate to trouble you. I have food at home.”

“I’ll walk you.” Satoru says, grabbing his jacket off the counter.

“I’ll take a taxi from the lobby.” You refuse. You can’t hide your smile, touched by their concern. “You should all eat. As a family.”

Suguru stares at you, the weight of his dark gaze making your skin prickle. It makes you feel as if you’ve said something wrong.

“At least make Ijichi drive you home,” Satoru says, exasperated, gesturing to the ceiling length windows that detail the darkness that has set over Tokyo. “It’s dark out.”

You blink in disbelief. “Satoru…” He cocks his head to the side. “Are you still using Ijichi as your personal chauffeur…?”

“...”

You turn to Suguru who seems to suddenly find the potted flowers resting by the window interesting.

Your mouth drops. “Not you too, Suguru! For the last time, you two can’t make Ijichi drop everything he’s doing to drive you through Tokyo!”

You sigh, shaking your head. These two. You feel sympathy towards Ijichi’s plight. Maybe that was why he had looked so withered the other day while you had visited Shoko in the morgue at Jujustu tech. Shoko had made a joke about watering him like you’d water a plant. You, however, could not find the humor in the situation when your kouhai had truly looked to be in need of water. And sleep. And food.

Maybe you could treat him for a meal one of these days…

“Does Ijichi like yakitori…?” You wonder out loud.

“I wouldn’t know.” Suguru says lightly, despite the peeved expression on his face. You can tell that Suguru, really, could not care less about Ijichi’s tastes.

“I don’t care about that man,” Satoru deadpans. “Why are you talking about Ijichi right now?”

You are unimpressed by their responses. “Anyway,” you sigh out. “I’ll be going now.”

“I’m coming—”

“No you aren’t,” you’re already halfway out the door. “Eat Suguru’s delicious curry,” you tell them both. “Tell the kids I love them. Goodnight.”

You don’t take a taxi. You walk fifty minutes to your apartment in the brisk winter in an effort to clear your mind. It doesn’t work. Suguru wants to get married. Satoru too, maybe, despite his efforts to avoid all the matchmaking ceremonies and invitations to go back to the Gojo estate for more lectures on the importance of continuing the Gojo line with an heir. In the end if Suguru wanted it, Satoru would end up wanting it too, as that was the nature of things. The two of them reconfiguring themselves around the other, always in tandem. A girl would catch Satoru’s eye, or Suguru’s, or maybe both of their attentions. And if she made them happy, you would be happy.

It wasn’t as if Suguru and Satoru didn’t have prospects. There was no shortage of girls who would gladly offer themselves. They didn’t need any help in that aspect. Besides, you are sure you’d be of absolutely no help in matchmaking. You always found it difficult to talk to pretty women. Your mouth never quite worked right. They always smelled nice too…

What you can do…

You can keep your distance. Slowly disengage yourself from the tangle of their lives. You’d be relegated to watching from the sidelines. You’d be content. Maybe you could keep Shoko to yourself for a little bit longer. To your knowledge, she had no intention of getting married. You hoped. Yet anyway. 

You jam your keys into the door of your apartment, slightly lifting the weight of the door up and jiggling the keys to the right. When you walk into your apartment, you set down your bag. You had forgotten about the takeout. There’s no food in your apartment except for a rotting carrot in the fridge that you throw out, and Satoru’s big jar of sugar on the island. 

Oh well, you didn’t have to eat. There's old tea in your cabinet. You ready the kettle. As you wait for the water to heat, you look out the window and think the apartment feels especially big tonight.