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ttalgi · 2 days ago

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missent letters pt.2

wanderer x gn! reader

part 1 || part 2

tags/cw: academic rivals to lovers, some cursing, mc is: a Vahumana student in the Akademiya, roommates with Alhaitham and Kaveh, and a pyro vision holder.

a/n: I finally finished the book a year later (lol) which made me want to make a part 2! Also, please don't mind any ooc or wrong plot details...it's been a while since I've actually played genshin.

wc: 2.1k

“It would do your remaining few brain cells some good to stop banging your head against the table. Plus this table was expensive. I can’t have the wood scratched already.”

You stop mid head bang to send Alhaitham an incredulous look. “Please!” you plead. “Have some sympathy for me at least once in your life. My life is over.” You slump your body across the living room bench.

Without missing a beat, he replies, ”I let you live here, don’t I?” Alhaitham turns to Kaveh with a raised eyebrow, “Care to fill me in on their latest tantrum?”

“It’s not a tantrum—!”

“Long story short, they asked me to send out some envelopes for them because of their busy schedule, so I told them to leave whatever they needed sent on top of their desk. Among the envelopes was one for Hat Guy, which apparently they didn’t want me to deliver.” He takes another bite of the shawarma wrap that Alhaitham brought home for dinner.

Kaveh turns to look at your defeated form. “If you didn’t mean to send Hat Guy the letters, why were they mixed up with the other envelopes in the first place? What’s the big deal about those letters anyway?” he asks while chewing.

You perk up your head to look at him. “Huh? You didn’t read them?” you ask.

“You see, unlike some”—he sends Alhaitham a pointed look—”people, I have basic human decency.”

“Again, I let you guys live here—”

“Basically, everytime I feel anger or annoyance towards him, I just vent about it on paper pretending that he’s the recipient. Then I just stuff everything in the same envelope because it’s easy storage that way.”

“Wait!” Kaveh interrupts. “Just how many letters have you written about him? That envelope was like an inch thick. It even cost me extra postage!”

“...What can I say? I have lots of vendettas against him,” you shrug.

Alhaitham interposes, “I don’t think I understand. What’s the big deal? So what if you told him exactly how you feel about him? I didn’t take you for being a people pleaser.”

“This is why people think you’re such a machine at times, Alhaitham!” Kaveh throws his arms up in frustration. “Some people actually care about how they present themselves to others.”

“Actually!” You interject before another one of their infamous arguments breaks out full throttle. “Alhaitham’s kind of right. I did write exactly how I feel about him, and that’s the thing. I wrote everything that I felt about him..” you trail off.

Kaveh lets out a dramatic gasp. “No way! You finally confessed your feelings for him in those letters?!”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it confessing. I just talked about how I think his eyes are kinda dreamy despite being cold at times and that he has a really pretty face and that”—you almost give yourself whiplash turning in his direction—”Wait, finally? What do you mean finally? There’s no way you could have known about my minuscule crush on Hat Guy!”

“Anyone with eyes and ears could tell that you have some romantic attraction towards him,” Kaveh sighs while shaking his head before gesturing to Alhaitham. “Even this guy is aware of it.”

“You two do know that I’m not socially inept, correct?”

Deciding to ignore Alhaitham, you slump back against the bench. “I’m doomed.”

You pop up with an idea. “Wait! Do you guys think Tighnari needs any more forest rangers? I can take a break until this whole thing tides over and just help him over at Avidya Forest—”

Alhaitham quenched your wishful thinking. “Knowing how substandard you are with your vision, you’d accidentally set the forest on fire.”

You stumble back as if an arrow pierced through your body. You mumble out, “Must you always humble me.” You turn to Kaveh with hopeful eyes.

“I thought I'd never say this, but I agree with Alhaitham. You trying to help Tighnari in the forest would do more harm than good. Plus, you'd end up a victim to his lectures again. Remember that one time you—”

Feeling your body riddling with piercing wounds, you slump against the bench once more. “Yeah, I’m doomed.”

It's been five days since Kaveh accidentally sent out the envelope meant for Hat Guy and you aren’t sure how much longer you have until the letters would be in his possession. Unless they already were...

If you were blessed by the Archons, then maybe the envelope was lost or better yet damaged beyond repair in delivery, but alas, you know better. The mail system in Sumeru City is known for its attentiveness, especially since many important Akademiya-based deliveries are sent and received daily.

You haven't seen Hat Guy around much these days, especially considering the fact that you’ve been actively avoiding him. Mandatory lectures that you both share? You now sit close to the exit, far from him. The library that you guys are known to basically reside in? You begged Alhaitham to let you study in his office instead, promising that you’d do his portion of the house chores for the next two weeks.

Deciding to go home early out of your own volition (Alhaitham kicked you out because of an important meeting), you carefully tread the halls of the Akademiya making sure to peek around each corner before continuing. As you start to believe that you're finally in the clear, you hear someone behind you clearing their throat. Taking a look down at the shadows decorating the floor, you see the silhouette of the man that you have been avoiding for your own peace of mind.

"How much longer are you going to rat around the Akademiya for? It's not like you can avoid me forever, you know."

Feeling offended by his choice of words, you abruptly turn around to tell him off; however, the sudden close proximity of your faces has you taking a step back. If you hadn’t been paying attention to his face, you would have thought that he was unaffected by the action, but the slight widening of his eyes before returning back to normal has you knowing otherwise.

You give Hat Guy a pointed glare. Wanting to defend yourself against his statement, you open your mouth to retaliate but the sight of the familiar envelope in his hand causes you to simply shut your mouth and grimace instead.

As he notices your actions, Hat Guy lets an annoying smirk grace his face. "Come on, say what you were going to say. We both know that you have a lot to say to me," he says while lazily waving the envelope around.

To try and play this in your favor, you start to act nonchalant. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘avoiding you’. Also, what’s with the envelope? Never seen it before in my life.”

Hat Guy raises a brow. “What’s with this sudden stupid, chill guy persona? Anyways, it seems like you need a reminder. Not surprising considering our perspective rankings,” he subtly gloats.

“You little—”

”Let's see,”—he opens up the envelope and starts to smooth out the bottommost letter—”Maybe reading some of these letters will help jog your memory.” He makes a grand gesture of pretending to clear his throat before reading, and you can’t help but to cover your face with your hands to try and protect yourself from the upcoming embarrassing retelling.

“Again! Again, you received a higher score on an assigned research essay. It’s only been 2 months and 11 days since you’ve been enrolled into the Vahumana Darshan, so how is it that you’re the apparent “All-Knowing” about Time-Sensitive Commodities? Who do you think you are? The new Sumeru archon of wisdom? Oh, sorry. I shouldn’t be disrespecting our Lesser Lord Kusanali by comparing you to her—” he pauses and his eyes hurriedly shift to gauge your reaction. If anything, he should be thankful. If you hadn’t been so focused on not looking at him, you would have seen the crease in his brows mid-reading.

Hat Guy recomposes himself before continuing to read. “For Archon's sake. What’s more frustrating is your subtle boasting towards me. How could such a shitty personality even emit from a pretty face like yours? Though, I’ll begrudgingly admit that I actually look forward to these interactions that I have with you.”

“ST—!”

A coy smirk fills his face. “Oh? Why so embarrassed? Do you know these letters after all?”

“N-no…I was just clearing my throat.” At this point, you curse your pride for not being able to halt this interaction.

“Stubborn as always.”

This time he picks out a letter from the top of the stack..

“It's completely and utterly unfair how your resting face looks so serene. Why must you always be in the library at the same time as I? Your stupidly, bewitching face only serves as a major distraction, like how could I not stare! It's like your face was personally carved by a god. Also, how the hell do you make a simple fountain pen look so good? The way that your slender fingers grip the—”

“OK, that’s enough! Stop with the reciting! I admit it!” You feel your face heat up from embarrassment and your pyro vision only makes everything feel hotter. You raise your hands in frustration. “It was a whole mixup! Those letters weren’t even meant to be sent to you.” You dial back your volume towards the end.

He pointedly sighs. “Well that much I figured out. There’s no chance in Teyvat where you of all people would willingly subject themself to this. So, what are you going to do about it now?” he asks while crossing his arms.

It hurts to admit, but you felt stupid at this very second. “What do you mean?”

He tskd. “Do I need to explain every little thing to you? You’re ranked right below me, so I know that you’re not stupid. Are you going to own up to your letters and finally confess? Or are you going to just cowardly dismiss this like you’ve been doing?”

“CONFESS?” You almost give yourself whiplash from how fast you check to see if anyone’s heard you. You repeat yourself in a whispering tone. “Confess?”

“You talk about ‘looking forwards’ to our interactions, staring at my ‘bewitching face’ and ‘slender fingers’ and you think it’s absurd that I bring up confessing? Or would it be easier for you if I confess first?”

Without thinking you blurt out, “There’s no way that you actually like me back.”

“Do you ever see me bothering to interact with anyone as much as I do with you? I even surprised myself when I started to catch feelings for your stubborn self.”

You try to shake off the nerves before staring into his eyes. “Hat Guy, I like—”

“Wanderer.”

"What?"

"Call me Wanderer instead; it rolls off the tongue easier than Hat Guy. It’s a nickname that the traveler gave me. Hat Guy is a silly name that happened to stick around the Akademiya.”

“Lots of names you have there, huh?” you tease.

He lets out a sound that’s the mix between a chuckle and a scoff. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Well, Wanderer. I like you. So…will you go out with me?”

“Obviously.” (Your eye roll at his matter-of-fact tone is instinctual) “I wouldn’t waste my time with anybody else. Anyways, let’s get out of here. You were on your way home before I caught you, weren't you?”

Your lips start to raise into a smile. “You’re going to walk me home?”

“Noo, I’m saying this so I can just go off on my own—”

“Oh, shut it. Let’s get out of here.”

As the both of you guys stroll out of the Akademiya, your hand closest to Wanderer suddenly can’t stop twitching every so often. Your head fills with thought pertaining to your new found relationship.

‘Is it too early to be holding hands?…Maybe hand holding is too PDA for him on open streets—’

A cold hand suddenly embracing yours breaks you out of your stupor. You turn to Wanderer, clearly surprised by the action. Starting to feel embarrassed, you try to pry your hand out of his clutch, only for him to tighten his grip. “W-What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” He pivots his head to the opposite side, hoping that you won’t catch his ears turning slightly pink. “Your thoughts are so loud that even Mondstadt can hear them,” he scoffs. “Just lead the way.”

You start to walk with a slight pep in your step. “As you say!”

bonus scene?:

“Hey, can I give you a nickname too? Or is it too soon..”

He turns with a raised eyebrow. “Depends. What do you have in mind?”

“XxAssMaster69xX”

He lets out the biggest sigh. “Not you too.”

“Jokes, jokes—” you pause. “Wait, me too?”

He continues to walk forwards without you.

“Me too?! Hello???”

#ttalgi writes #genshin #genshin impact x reader #gender neutral reader #genshin x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #genshin fluff

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meanbossart · 2 days ago

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I'm not sure if it's been asked before but first of all your writing skills are just incredible🤌 After reading "A Novel Experience" it was like scratching an itch that I couldn't quite reach after years of reading burnout. In summary I was genuinely interested in how have you improved and developed your writing skills? Like honestly your writing is so addictive and captivating that (respectfully) there just has to be some kind of exposure to expression through literature, or perhaps you are just simply into reading. (That's a lot of yap and sorry if it's personal in a way or another. Also thank you for inspiring me and other people alike, you are a phenomenal artist 🙏)

Oh, thank you! I am beyond flattered and I truly appreciate that you enjoy my writing so much. To be honest I am actually very dissatisfied with my work for about half of A Novel Experience - when I started it, I had no audience, I just wrote and posted the first chapter as an epilogue for the game since the canonical ending felt pretty abrupt (we didn't have the official epilogue with the extended dialogue or Wither's party back then).

Then, I just felt like I had more to say, so I kept writing and by chapter 4-5 I had this huge story plotted out. I wrote a lot of those early chapters very quickly, and often while a little drunk, and considered them rough outlines rather than a finished work. When the story and my art began picking up traction I started to put more effort into my style and presentation, which is why chapters take a LOT longer to write nowadays - but I can confidently say that I am very proud of everything that came after The Compound.

I'm not really a reader, I'd be surprised if I read more than 30 books in my entire 28 years of life, and frankly I only started to enjoy fantasy very recently through admiring many of the fromsoft games from afar, and of course by finally playing Baldur's Gate 3.

One thing I will say is that the fictional books I've read that really stuck with me - and that I would consider to have influenced the way I write - have all had very unorthodox styles. Blindness by Jose Saramago is page after page of overwhelming walls of texts that read like a slowing-down clock or an agonizingly tight turning of screws; Blood Meridian is a nearly incoherent babble written by a man who outgrew the need or patience for commas or proper sentence separation, who knowingly disregarded grammar for the sake of feel. The Consumer is a collection of borderline pornographic and horrible, horrible stories where every character is abstracted into a wider social phenomenon, point of view is irrelevant and there is no line between narrative, dissertation, or poem.

Unlike the aforementioned works and their authors, I'm not talented (or crazy) enough as a writer to COMPLETELY forego construction and grammar, but I do feel perfectly confident in prioritizing feeling and flow over what is "correct" and experimenting with text in the same way I would on a drawing. I don't think any of this makes me good at it, but hopefully it makes it interesting or unique enough to stand out. It also means that, despite disliking those first few chapters, I don't really mind having them out there, since my purpose with them was to just have fun and try to capture "a vibe" rather than show myself off as some sort of wordsmith.

Well then, I've definitely outyapped you so we're even now. Hopefully this was interesting in the slightest!

#ask #a novel experience

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mickyschumacher · 3 hours ago

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[CHÉRIE!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: heading into ferrari for a new season, you think you're pretty focused. but things don't look too good when a series of love notes from your secret admirer start appearing out of nowhere.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: so so much fluff, poor humour, charles being corny affffff, reader is lowkey oblivious, arthur being the best brother in the world, mentions of charles' hardships with monza and monaco as well as lewis' own hardships, two idiots in love basically

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3.3k

𝐀/𝐍: the last fic of my series! even though it's the cheesiest thing i've written, i love cheesy shit and even better if it's with charles! i really enjoyed writing this series! it's also the most active i've been in a while so that's been really fun. leave some requests and i might just take your offer up. // as usual, poorly proofread

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Lewis Hamilton moving to Ferrari was a shock to most. Whether it was good or bad, well that was up to the individual.

And while Charles was very welcoming of the move, having the Lewis Hamilton as his teammate wasn’t quite the reason.

It was you.

Lewis Hamilton to Ferrari didn’t just bring the history, talent, and skills. It also happened to bring along his personal trainer – you.

You hadn’t been training Lewis long. Around three years after his previous personal trainer left. There was a lot of doubt surrounding you. You were young. A bit new to the world of motorsports. And it didn’t seem like you were helping Lewis through some of his hardest years at Mercedes.

But truth be told, underneath all of that, you happened to understand Lewis to a ‘T’. His mentality, his values, his respect, and his beliefs. They coincided with yours. Together, you could achieve the impossible, you were both sure of it.

Unfortunately, Mercedes just had a really shitty car (and a shitty attitude).

Cue the move to Ferrari. Which in reality was music to Charles’ ears.

Over the past few years, Charles had managed to become friends with you. It took him a while seeing as you were slightly reserved and all over the paddock at all times. But once you had given him one of the most inspiring and encouraging talks, he had ever received after the stint Ferrari had pulled on him in Monaco, 2022 – it was safe to say you had progressed your friendship.

To anyone with a brain and perhaps even slightly declined vision, it was plain as day that Charles was interested in you. Because someone not interested in you wouldn’t stop his interviews to say ‘Hi’ to you, get you involved in Ferrari’s YouTube videos, or walk the track every morning just so he could join you.

2024 was an irritating year for Charles. While the SF-24 wasn’t particularly awful and Charles had still managed to win some races, there was still something missing. Not to mention, a whole Constructor’s championship. Furthermore, waiting for you and Lewis to arrive to Maranello was like telling a child to wait to open their Christmas gift – it was far too long of a wait.

But the time had finally come. Charles had done his annual training camp and arrived to Maranello and both you and Lewis had officially settled down in the area. The first few weeks with you on the team was surreal. Charles was spending more time with you than ever. Almost every day he interrupted your lunch and sat down with you. When Lewis was in the car, he’d appear next to you, discussing smalls things like how you were finding Italy or how the car was.

With every passing second, he spent with you, Charles was struggling to be just friends with you. Especially with the occasional rumor or ship edit of you and Lewis. Deep down, he knew there was nothing to be worried about. Lewis saw you more as a sister if anything, sharing your knowledge with him.

It was time, however, to change this.

Charles had planned it out carefully. Fourteen notes from your secret admirer. Plastered around all areas you visit the most within the Ferrari headquarters. One for every day up until the holiday of love itself: Valentine’s Day.

The first five notes were relatively tame and simple, complimenting your hair or your smile or even giving you some encouragement. They were enough to get you to pull Charles and Lewis aside.

“Guys,” you ushered, gathering the two men into a small circle. “Don’t tell anyone just yet, but for the past few days, I’ve been getting these secret notes,” you squealed quietly, holding a few of them in your hands.

Lewis raised a brow, taking one into his hand. “Secret notes? You mean like letters from a secret admirer?” He asked, reading the note slowly.

You paused. A secret admirer. You hadn’t really thought of the notes like that. You scratched the back of your neck awkwardly. “Oh... I’m not quite sure about that. They seem really sweet but I don’t think they mean it like that.”

Charles pursed his lips together, in disbelief that he was watching his entire plan fall apart before his very eyes. “I mean... they probably do mean it like that,” he chuckled, trying to waver off his nervousness. He blinked at the staring expressions from you and Lewis. “I mean–who leaves compliments they could say to your face on paper if they don’t like you.”

Huh. Now that you thought about it, that was a reasonable argument. “Maybe,” you agreed with a small nod, taking back the notes.

Lewis shoved his hands in his pockets, moving his knowing glance from Charles to you. “Do you think they’ll ever reveal themselves?”

Unbeknownst to you, Charles’ skin began heating up as you gave a small shrug. “Possibly. Who knows? I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

After your conversation with Charles and Lewis, your notes were starting to become only slightly less complimentary and more poetic.

“At night, when the world falls asleep and all is still, you take over my every thought, against my will.”

“Your laugh is a melody of my favourite music notes I wish to hear. A song for my ears only. So soft and so warm.”

“The smile you wear, while unnoticed by all, is one I cannot forget at all.”

Were they cheesy and corny? Yes. Absolutely.

But were you smiling from ear to ear? A hundred percent.

It was getting bad now. For every note you read, your heart would race against your chest, your cheeks would flush, and the world seem to go quiet. You were sure this was exactly what this person wanted.

You couldn’t help but try figure out who the person was. But so far, there were very little personal clues in the notes. All you knew is that the person seemed to know you quite well as every note you found were in the places you visited the most.

“Hello,” a voice sung.

You looked up from the laptop you were supposed to be doing work on (and not daydreaming about love letters). You grinned at the familiar face. “Baby Leclerc!”

Arthur gave you a feigned pained expression, taking a seat next to you. “You and Charles... I swear,” he sighed, resting his head on the chair as you laughed softly. He turned his head to you. “So, I hear you’ve been getting secret notes?”

You flickered your eyes over to Arthur. “That idiot! I told Charles not to tell anyone,” you pouted.

Things are different when your brother sends you to deliver these same notes at six in the morning. Arthur simply smiled. “Any ideas on who it is?”

You sighed, shutting your laptop. “Nope,” you pursed your lips. You had received ten notes in total now. You had managed to pick out a few things. “I think whoever it is likes music or plays something since I’ve had three notes about music. They also might like snow since my ‘heart is as soft as the snow.’”

Arthur pressed his lips together on a line, trying to control his body from projectile vomiting on his brother’s corny notes. “Sound like anyone you know?” He asked, watching you carefully.

Surely by now...

You furrowed your brows. Music and snow. Music and snow. Music and snow. Nothing. There was nothing going through your head and Arthur could tell.

“Well,” Arthur started, standing up from his seat. “I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”

You smiled. “Hopefully.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

Four notes were left and it was getting more difficult to not only convince Arthur to put them in the selected locations but to make sure you were able to see them. It was getting closer and closer to the date of the car launch. It was five days after Valentine’s Day, the day you were going to receive your last note and this game of hide and seek would finally come to an end.

D-3

“You guide me through all the noise and speed. When you’re here, I find all I need.”

Noise and speed? Now you were thrown off. What did that mean? The noise and speed of what?

But as you walked past the plethora of rooms working on every small or big part of Ferrari’s new car for the season, one cog turned in place. You halted in your steps, thinking very carefully as drills and machines vibrated throughout the building.

Of course. The person had to be within Scuderia Ferrari. Your first thought – it could’ve been anyone. But noise and speed? That was Formula 1. That was at least all your engineers, mechanics, pit crew...

You felt a hand rest on your shoulder, your name softly being called out. “Hey. You okay, chérie?” Charles queried, blue eyes looking down at you slightly concerned.

You blinked, allowing a smile to grace your face even though it felt like the weight of his hand was burning your skin. You tried to keep your cheeks from heating up but any efforts were wasted. “Yeah, great,” you breathed. “Just figuring some things out.”

Charles slowly nodded, removing his hand and allowing you to breathe again. “Okay,” he murmured, “I just wanted to ask. Make sure you eat and drink well, hmm? I don’t want you passing out on the launch.”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks still burning. “Speak for yourself. Don’t think I haven’t seen you skipping lunch for the past week.”

Charles grinned to himself. You noticed. Reality was that he was struggling to not just confess every time he saw you, so he thought cutting one part of his day with you would help. It didn’t. But, hey, at least you noticed.

“You can just say you miss me. I won’t tell anyone, chérie. It’ll be our little secret,” he winked, starting to quickly walk past you in the hope you can’t see his flustered expression.

You blinked blankly again, feeling your heart loudly beat in your chest.

Holy shit.

D-2

“Even amongst the roar of the engine and the cheer of the crowd, you’re the only one I can hear.”

So, you were right. Whoever this admirer was, they were dealing with Ferrari’s car in some shape or format. It was more likely to be a mechanic or engineer, maybe even a test driver.

But one who liked music and snow? You couldn’t think of one person who fitted in all those categories.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Lewis queried, taking a seat next to you at lunch. He mended his brows, tilting his head. “Or should I say euro?”

You huffed, shaking your head. “Funny guy, aren’t ya?”

“Very,” Lewis commented before nudging your shoulder. “So... what’s on your mind? A secret admirer, perhaps?”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing tone. “Sort of. I’m just trying to figure them out. I just wish...”

Lewis raised a brow, turning his body to yours. “You wish...?”

You wished Charles was your secret admirer instead.

Sure, the notes made your day. But Charles was making your day in real life... off the paper. Just this morning, you and Charles had bumped into each other after you received your note. You were about to order your usual drink when he had ordered it for you, memorising the way you liked it exactly.

You told him you couldn’t believe he remembered. And he responded, “Of course I remember. Why wouldn’t I?”

The moment had left you thinking for the entire day. You hadn’t seen him since but you don’t think you could look at him without being flustered and a hot mess.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, sighing while Lewis grinned to himself. He knew exactly what you were wishing for.

D-1

“For every checkered flag that waves, you’re the one I look for first. Because even in a crowded room, I’ll always look for you.”

Checkered flags were always a mess. Seconds before the race leader would even pass, the garage and the stands were always moving, running, to the podium. It was rhythm of chaos. You never knew who was next to you. All you could feel was what it felt like in the moment.

Silverstone 2024 was for you to remember forever. Lewis’ first win since 2021 – since you had joined him as his personal trainer. The driver to have the most wins at a single circuit and it was at his home race.

Tears were shed that day.

And the crowd was something you would never forget. You almost lost yourself until Lewis had found you himself, thanking you for being by his side for some of the toughest years of his life.

But for your secret admirer to find you in a crowd of a checkered flag waves... well, they must have some good eyes.

You were lying down on a bench with Charles seated next to you and Arthur sitting across you. All of you were on your break, soaking in the tiny bit of sun that had come out during winter.

Your eyes were shut, protecting yourself from the sun and from melting under Charles’ gaze. You could hear Arthur call your name, making your ears perk up. “What do you look for in a guy?”

You couldn’t see it but Charles was sending the most heaviest glare he could muster to his younger brother. Arthur simply rolled his eyes, waiting for your response.

“That’s such a random question,” you mumbled.

Arthur cleared his throat. You were already onto him. “I mean... well, I asked Jade after I saw a TikTok of people’s responses. She said personality which is great, I guess. Kind of unsettling news for my face though,” he murmured towards the end.

You and Charles found yourself laughing at the scenario. Arthur was truly one of a kind. Quietening down, you realised the brothers were both waiting for your answer. “Um,” you momentarily pondered, “their soul.”

Arthur and Charles paused. The younger brother raised a brow you couldn’t see. “Their soul? What are you, a grim reaper?”

You chuckled softly. “It’s not that... it’s–well, I think everyone has specific types of souls. You can see it when you talk to someone and get to know them. It’s someone’s essence... the fabric of who they are.”

Charles leaned over, face hovering over you from a safe distance. “Their souls?” He repeated out of curiosity.

You nodded. “Yep. Everyone has one. Even you.”

Now you had full undivided attention. “Yeah? What do you think my soul is like, chérie?”

You opened your eyes, swallowing hard when you met those baby blues. Letting out a slow exhale, you stared at him as you thought about your answers. The words seemed to come easily to you.

“Charles... your soul dances. Purely. Freely. It dances to every fleeting moment and to the rhythm of life. Your soul finds meaning in everything because you have the biggest heart I’ve ever known. Because you are the most beautiful person I have ever met, inside and out.”

Charles blinked, speechless. He wasn’t sure what was more touching. Your words or your sheer seriousness. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his heart at bay.

One more day...

That’s all he needed to wait for

D-DAY

“Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? I don’t about you but I hope they do.”

You stared at the piece of paper. Souls? All of a sudden?

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” a voice quietly greeted behind you.

You turned your body despite knowing exactly who it was by the wave of warmth his voice had sent through you. “Hmm? Did you say something?”

Charles pursed his lips. Shoving his hands in his pockets of his jacket and smiled. “I said Happy Valentine’s Day. You know... since it’s the fourteenth.”

You nodded slowly, half processing his words while his dimples twinkled at you. “You too,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up once again. Stupid goddamn cheeks and their susceptibility to Charles.

You watched his eyes to fall the note in your hands. “Another note?” He asked.

You gave a small smile. “Yup.”

Charles cleared his throat, shuffling on his feet. “What does it say today?”

You opened your mouth, ready to start complaining. “It asks me about whether I think the universe fights for souls to be together–”

“Well, do you?” Charles queried, softly staring at you.

You blinked, feeling tongue-tied. “I... I-I mean yes. I’m sure the universe does but that’s not my point. My point is... is that it’s too random. Where did souls come from? This entire time it’s been music, piano, snow, noise, engines, and checkered flags... it’s so random. They’ve all been somewhat connected by now and–”

“Chérie,” Charles called.

“Yeah?” You responded only to be met with silence. You mended your brows together as he silently stood in front of you. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

You felt the walls of the world close in on you as he raised his eyebrows gently. Surely not...

Charles took a step closer to you, grabbing your hand with his. “I’m not sure about the universe, chérie. But I would love to fight for us.”

Your mouth fell open. You think your hands were shaking. “Charles... you wrote the notes?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, hand reaching to rub the back of his neck as his own cheeks started to burn.

“I’ve been planning it a few days after you came to Maranello. I just didn’t know how long I could be just friends with you for but I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you then. If it isn’t clear yet,” he breathed in, thumb rubbing your hand gently, “I really really like you.”

You gulped. Charles’ eyes were always soft. They changed when he raced. Like he could burn down the track. But today, they looked at you with such a warm and heartfelt intensity. It was the same one when he lost in Monaco and when he won.

The same one you found searching for you in the crowd.

Charles’ breath hitched as he felt you lean in. He watched you move your head, eyes falling to his lips. And just like that, he could feel your lips pressed onto the corner of his mouth. He steadied himself as you pull away, your thumb grazing his mouth gently.

He flickered his eyes to your lips as the words fall freely. “I like you too.”

Charles grinned, dimples popping out once again. His arms moved to wrap themselves around your waist, bringing you into a tight hug. He let out a relieved exhale. “Thank God,” he murmured next to your ear.

He could feel you laugh against him and he loved it. “What did you think I was gonna say? That I didn’t like you?” You asked with a small smile as you pulled away from his body, still in his grasp.

Charles rolled his eyes, thumb rubbing small circles into your waist. He looked at you, taking in the moment. He gave you a small shrug. “You always make me nervous,” he sighed out.

“Me? Make you nervous?” You gaped. “I’m pretty sure I’m shaking right now.”

A wide smile graced his face. “I’m glad I have the ability to do that.”

You stayed silent, unsure if you could trust yourself to speak any further. You simply smiled, cheeks still burning to react to Charles while you rested in his arms.

“Chérie,” he called softly and this time you looked back to what was yours.

You tilted your head, waiting for him to say something.

“You never asked me about your soul,” he stated.

The way he said it made the comment sound factual. But you didn’t understand. “What do you mean?” You asked.

He laughed quietly at your confused expression. Tucking your hair behind your ears, Charles rested his hands back on your waist. “I want you to ask me what I think about your soul.”

You fell quiet for a brief second. Christ, was he sure that you were the one making him nervous? Because he sure knew how to make you speechless.

“Okay.” You breathed, giving him a small smile. Moving your arms to his neck, you hung them and opened your mouth. “Charles, what do you think about my soul?”

“Chérie, you said my soul dances. But your soul... it breathes. It lives. Everywhere you walk, you give life to world. You create reason. Everything you say and do sounds like a song. Even your silence is music. Sweetheart, you make living the most beautiful gift of life.”

#mickyschumacher #micky's hand in heart series ❦#formula 1 #f1 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine

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stanliestduo · 1 day ago

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I saw that ask you got and i just wanted to say that it's so funny to me when people are like "why would you ship stancest ew" acting like they didn't sail off into the sunset together after DECADES of Stan openly pining for Ford. If they weren't written as siblings they would hands down be the most popular ship of the show

There's a long answer, and then there's the tldr at the bottom marked in red text. Long answer: If they weren't siblings, you literally wouldn't be able to escape this ship. It would have been THE ship of tumblr after the finale had aired, considered the "healthy" ship and the good ending, would be considered canon even if they didn't kiss, and it would be the standard by which all the other ships are judged. You would have people writing essays about how they literally took off on a ship, guys! It's so obvious and a metaphor for marriage and and- But here's where I can extend a bit of empathy that perhaps they wouldn't give me, as well as look at things from the perspective as someone who has seen shipping culture their entire lives. First off- most people don't want to fuck their siblings. I know, shocker. Most people who ship Stancest probably do not want to fuck their siblings, but people who don't CERTAINLY do not want to. It's the most repulsive thought in the world to them. There is such thing as being in such a close platonic relationship that it's an impossible thought. I think a lot of people who want Stancest shippers to die or whatever find that kind of desire utterly repulsive, that and let's be real, 1nc3st in real life is rife with abuse. It isn't a healthy thought to get those wires crossed. People who do not like this ship are empathizing with either of the brothers and projecting their own repulsion onto them. But here's the other bit. I'm not shipping Stan and Ford because they're siblings. Most of my ships are not 1nc3stuous. I don't find that element hot or cute, and while I'm not here to harsh anyone's vibe, if that's the only reason you ship Stancest I really don't want to talk with you about these characters. People see ships as inherently sexual, as inherently sexualizing, as "you must only ship this because you want to see the characters fuck". And mind you, with Stancest I don't see it as a bad thing at all to draw them doing things or being attractive together, etc etc. Not at all, and I'd be a hypocrite for saying otherwise. My point is, that's where people's minds go, that's the assumption that they make. They find 1nc3st repulsive, and clearly the ONLY reason I would ship it is because I like sexualizing that and only that aspect about it. Basically, they assume I must LOVE 1nc3st in and of itself, because otherwise why would I ship brothers? Now here's where I go back to the first statement, because most people I've seen don't just ship them for that reason.

You ever seen that meme about "if they have chemistry, I can't make them NOT have chemistry"? That's why I'm here. EVERYTHING about how Stan and Ford are written is tailor made to be SHIPPED. Aside from literally bounding away on a ship, they have a closeness and codependency that most brothers in fiction do not. Alex himself has said they need each other, Ford in the third journal said he was going to spend the rest of his days making up to Stanley. Stanley has spent his entire life wanting NOTHING but his family, his brother by his side. He seems more bonded to his brother than to any one he's ever tried to date, and Ford likewise. I'm sorry, but these two are not getting a "healthy" ending. They aren't going to be with anyone else. There's no version of them in which they find separate partners after having a little adventure around the world for a year or two then just go off in separate ways. This is the most "childhood friends to lovers" story I've ever seen. These two are NOT healthy to begin with, why would anyone expect them to start when they're that old and that hurt by everything in their pasts? I don't believe it inherently has to be sexually 1nc3stuous, but it could be. Wires are already being crossed. It's rare for anyone to be loyal for 30 years to one person when they aren't in love, and Stan wanted to get his brother back so badly that he forgot his own goals and even threw away his own identity to get him back. His entire life was for Ford, and after Journal 3, it should be obvious that Ford's entire life is for Stan now, too. What I'm trying to say is, while this ship isn't the healthy ending, it is the BEST ending for either of them. I think people who wanted Stan to be able to deny going with Ford don't understand him or his character, or what his character NEEDS, same as Ford. And I think people who try to separate the bros for shipping purposes or who don't want to do 1nc3st or accidental emotional 1nc3st are not fully reading the same things, watching the same things that we are. If they weren't brothers, everyone else would see exactly what we're seeing. They would see this as the love story it is. TLDR: I understand why people won't ship this ship, and I try to be empathetic, but these two have been given the kind of story that would ping the lovers radar to anyone if they weren't brothers and I'm not going to ignore that just because they are.

#stancest #stanliest thoughts #stanliest asks #I love talking about this stuff btw and I don't always have to be so heavy with it #If anyone has any questions about my headcanons or stories with the Stans or with Bill lemme know #btw I think intention here doesn't matter #I know Alex has both said it's strange but also that he doesn't care #I think sometimes somebody can write something by accident and it either reveals something about themselves #or about how they have internalized the stories they've encountered and the relationships between characters

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dogwaterdish · 11 hours ago

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ohh shit fanfic recs?? hello! all of these are mha fanfics btw

1. Bad Moon Rising by LittleKy !! ( @littlekysworld )

this is a super good SUPER angsty fanfiction!! I love the writing, it flows so nicely with how it switches between characters and the several things that are happening at the same time! the angst is also very EEK !??! !!!! and of course awesome DADMIGHT !!

2. Deku and Nori by UnknownToMe ( @art-lan )

I'm not all caught up with this one at the moment, but it's really fun. basically midoriya gets isekai'd into a world where there aren't heroes and quirks work a bittttt differently! then, he runs into this universe's All Might - just a regular kinda guy!

3. Bedside Manner by DaniDeservedBetter ( @savetheirhearts-midoriya )

Izuocha fans LISTEN UP. every izuocha fic I've read from dani has been life changing. In this fic, midoriya and uraraka are hanging out and cuddling and stuff, and it's just super cute and incredibly well written -- midoriya is the most i character I think I've ever read him in a fanfic, honestly!!!

4. Superhuman by DaniDeservedBetter

Let's just let my bookmark note speak for this one...

I've been thinking about this fanfic ever since I read it a year and however many months ago. It WILL alter your brain chemistry. izuocha fans this is basically a requirement to read

5. A Burden to Carry Alone by SyncXmA ( @syncxma )

This is a fic that I've read so many times that I don't even remember when I first read it, it's just ingrained in my being now. it takes place in a non-canon timeskip, and features midoriya overworking himself very hard in a very extreme way. It's another izuocha fic, and it's so expressive and works so well with both of them. plus, hawks moment . I heavily recommend this fic, even if you don't ship izuocha.

6. Lose to Gain by xmoreminutes ( @xmoreminutes )

I love this so much, and I can't wait to see where it goes. rereading it gets me crying every time, the first chapter has such a good dig into ptsd type of stuff that I can relate to . unfortunately. BUT ITS SO GOOD IS WHAT IM SAYING!!! read it read it read it !!! it's dadmight :]

7. to rise and return. again and again. by createandconstruct ( @createandconstruct )

ACK ITS ANOTHER DADMIGHT ANGsT FIC! this is a killer oneshot that takes place after that big old fight with nine during the second MHA movie, when all might showed up and whatnot. it's so frighteningly good I scream into my pillow even thinking about it . the words flow together in such an intoxicating way and I LOVE ! IT! just check out createandconstructs works in general, they're a literal goldmine for this type of fic

8. My Vibrant Sun by Quisanne ( @slitherin-away )

This one is NOT angst, fluff lovers come eat your meal... it's dadmighr again guys ... if you even care. I care so much because this fic is SO GOOD AND SO CUTE !!! I love fics where people assume all might is midoriya's dad, and this has that in such a fun way -- from the workers at all might's agency!! I love this fic a little extra because it came from the first ever dadmight week and I get extra happy that such an amazing story came from an event I ran . Three cheers for quisanne!!!!!

9. Just How Love Goes by Writer_Poe

This fic features all might helping midoriya cope with his shitty ass dad : > . I really love the emotions in this fanfic, they're portrayed so well and again, awesome ptsd rep and understanding here. Once again this is a fic I've reread so many times, and every time I find something new to love about it.

10. A Phone Call Was Here! by Lilly_Penwielder

I really can't recommend this fic enough. this fic is what comes to mind whenever I think of fanfiction as a whole, it's that good and fun to read. this is a fluffy dadmight fic with midoriya helping all might go through some of his stuff, and he finds some really nice things in the office they're cleaning out. fics that feature midoriya's admiration (cough cough special interest cough cough) for all might are some of my favorites, and this one really hits the spot. CHECK IT OUT!!!!!!

here's 10 fanfiction recommendations from me!! if y'all read 'em, it'd be killer cool if you tagged me and lmk what you thought !

Welcome to Feedback Fest 2025

Welcome to International Fanworks Day Feedback Fest of 2025! To participate, leave a comment under our post recommending 10 fanworks and spread the joy of fandom! Read more at: https://otw-news.org/yckvy6vh

English • Bahasa Indonesia • Čeština • Dansk • Deutsch • Ελληνικά • Español • Français • Italiano • Magyar • Nederlands • Norsk • Polski • Português brasileiro • Slovenščina • Српски • Svenska • Tiếng Việt

#dogwaterreblogs #dogwatertalks #dogwaterrecs #mha fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic recommendation #fanfic recs #dadmight #izuocha

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blessedbucky · 1 day ago

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we tried the world, good god, it wasn't for us! (part 5.3)

pairing: autistic!satoru x suguru x autistic!reader

word count: 8.9k (this actually might be the shortest i've written to date)

summary: satoru has been naively thinking that his world hasn’t been on the edge of collapse for a long time.

tags: autistic!reader, autistic!satoru, not sure if it's suicidal ideation or what since suguru wants to die for what he did to reader, definitely probably some unhealthy codependency because everyone here is a teenager going through traumatic shit, uhhhh let me know if there's anything else but I think those are the big ones, hurt/like minimal amounts of comfort, gojo is disgustingly in love please help my boy he's struggling with his depressed s/o's

beautiful people who asked to be tagged 💕: @ichikanu, @iceheartsice, @anders-is-being-a-simp-again, @lexlibrary, @ziggy0stardust

author note: really wanted to write the fallout of the last chapter in satoru's pov, like how it goes in canon. not sure if it's my own depression on some fuck shit or a genuine struggle, but i got stuck in the middle of the chapter. i really hope it has the emotional impact that i was going for. i was channeling my depression here since my annual seasonal big sad is coming up. brains are great (:

chapter links: 1, 2, 3, 4.1, 4.2, 5.1, 5.2, AO3

[YEAR THREE]

[PART THREE]

No, I don’t know who you are. Should I?

It’s stupid. You’re stupid. No, that’s mean and unfair. You don’t deserve that. Satoru is the stupid one. Him and his traitorous heart that had fluttered like some blushing maiden when you completely dismissed his identity up until that point, ignored his immense strength that anyone with a shred of cursed energy could feel, and treated him like an actual human. Do you even know how much time he spent hunting down an exact replica of those cheap sunglasses you offered up to him during that first meeting? After Suguru broke them when he was punching Satoru in the face?

Yeah, Satoru is a moron. Because he’s happy that he hadn’t learned Reverse Cursed Technique yet and that Shoko had been away long enough that his nose would never sit totally right ever again after it was broken. Just like your sunglasses, his crooked nose is another reminder that two country bumpkins have rocked his shit so wholly that it’s kind of insane.

That night had been embarrassing and confusing. He hadn’t been able to stop pressing against the tender bridge of his nose, making pain shoot across his face. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was Suguru standing over him with sharp, furious eyes and bloody fists. All he could feel were the phantom touches of your soft yet unflinchingly steady fingers on his cheeks and chin. Never an ounce of hesitation from either of you when it came to Satoru. He’d rocked against his mattress, coming way too many times for him to ever admit. The second time that he’d touched himself to the thoughts of you two.

People have always been terrified of Gojo Satoru and his unfathomable strength. Little do they know that he’s no longer the strongest sorcerer in the world. He hasn’t been since the morning after his seventeenth birthday when he woke up in the early dawn, your head weighing down his chest, Suguru’s breath warm against the skin of his neck, and Satoru thought, I love you. Because he worships the ground that you and Suguru stand on. If either of you came to him and asked him to burn the world down, he’d do it. The only thing that held him back from blowing up a room full of batshit crazy cult followers is because Suguru told him there’d be no meaning in it.

But Satoru is still the same boy god as he’s always been. Thinking that his strength alone will be enough to protect himself and everyone else from problems. Pretending that plastering a smile on his face and never taking anything seriously will be enough to infect everyone else. Forgetting that his childhood of being raised as a weapon has dulled his sense of what’s horrifying and what’s not.

Naively thinking that his world hasn’t been on the edge of collapse for a long time.

No. That’s not totally true, either. Because he’s noticed. He sees everything, right? He’s been with Suguru on his trips to buy cigarette packs, becoming increasingly frequent. Satoru’s wondered, more than once, if Suguru is smoking more than eating these days. The bags under Suguru’s eyes and yours are getting darker. The windows and doors of your rooms have been locked more than ever before, a silent warning that you’re not up for spending the night with anyone. Both your tempers are shorter, especially with each other. He doesn’t think you’ve ever shrugged off the touch of others as much as you are now.

In the back of his mind, Satoru has known for a long time that you and Suguru are not okay, but he looked away. That’s his biggest sin. Because he’s been afraid that if he accepts that, he’ll have to accept that it’s because you and Suguru are not cut out for the lives of sorcerers, and that would mean you’d have to walk away from this world.

You’d both have to walk away from him.

This has been his blue spring. That’s what the adults call it, isn’t it? At some point, his spring turned to autumn without his realizing it. Now, he faces the daunting reality of his love turning into a brutal, deadly winter.

“…huh?”

It’s the middle of the night and Satoru has literally just walked into his dorm room when Suguru calls.

He doesn’t understand, at first. It’s hard to when the connection is in and out. There’s so much static. And between all that, Suguru isn’t making any fucking sense. He’s incoherently babbling. And Satoru prays that he’s wrong, but it sounds like Suguru is crying. Satoru thinks that he hears your name in there somewhere, making his stomach twist. There aren’t many reasons why Suguru would be this upset, but Satoru is trying to make Suguru calm down enough to explain.

“…hurt…so much…blood…blood everywhere…sorry, so sorry…”

“Please…need you…Shoko…get here…”

“…Squid…dying…”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Satoru remembers the prefecture that Suguru mentioned he was going with you to. Sensei would have more specific information on the village in his office, right? A primal panic, one that he’s not felt since last year, fuels him to flicker across campus. If he can get near the village, he’ll be able to sense someone’s cursed energy. He tears Sensei’s office apart, trying to find where he keeps mission details.

As soon as he’s got the location, he’s honing on Shoko’s energy, and then he’s there. Next to her bed. She’s still awake, hunched over some medical textbook. She yelps when he snatches her by the upper arm. He’ll apologize later for the rough treatment, but all he can think is Sketch is dying, Sketch is dying, Sketch is fucking dying.

“Run Reverse Cursed Technique,” Satoru demands as he physically prepares himself for this trip.

“What? Why? Where did you even come from? Why are you in my room—”

“I haven’t teleported with anyone.” He’ll also apologize later for making her his first guinea pig. If it’s going to be someone, though, it’s good that it’s the person who can heal herself. “I haven’t even taken myself more than a prefecture away.” This is going to hurt.

Shoko’s voice pitches higher with panic. “What the fuck is going on, Gojo?!”

“Sketch is dying. Start healing yourself.”

Satoru doesn’t even give her the chance to start running it.

Those are Suguru’s residuals.

Wrong. That’s wrong.

Those are Suguru’s residuals.

For the first time in the course of the Gojo clan’s history, the Six Eyes are wrong.

Those are Suguru’s residuals.

They have to be wrong.

Or…Satoru is overthinking it.

There has to be another explanation for why, buried deep in the gash across your torso that’s almost a mirror image of Satoru’s own scar, Suguru’s residuals linger. Suguru is crying and drenched in your blood because he wasn’t able to help you in time. The cursed spirit that did that to you was absorbed by Suguru after the damage was done.

That’s not how that works.

“What happened?” Shoko asks in a tone that Satoru has never heard out of her before. He tries to find his voice, tell her to shut the fuck up, because he knows what she’s thinking. The way that she’s curled over Sketch’s body, body tense, cursed energy flaring with emotion gives her away. “Suguru!” Shoko shouts, trying to reach him through his tears. “Tell me what happened to her!”

“I’m sorry.” Suguru hunches over. Digs bloody fingers in the dirt. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

“Why are you sorry?”

Satoru knows the truth. He does. It’s the reason why it feels like the world is about to slip out from under his feet. He wants to shut Shoko up because he doesn’t want to hear the truth. When Suguru, through his tears, manages, “I didn’t mean to,” Satoru wants to cry with him. There’s no stopping it now.

“What didn’t you mean to do?”

Suguru’s next cry is gut-wrenching. Satoru is trembling, more terrified than he’d been staring down the sharp edge of Zen’in Toji’s blade. “I didn’t mean it, I swear. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. Please, believe me. I didn’t mean for it to happen—”

Shoko, the stone-faced judge, has no mercy for either of them. She demands the truth, no matter what hell it’ll bring. She says your name, knowing Suguru can’t deny you your justice. “Did you hurt her?”

Satoru, the unintentional jury, has to witness Suguru become his own executioner when he chokes out, “Yes.”

A crack splits Shoko’s indifferent mask. Twisting her body around, she stares at Satoru with wet and shining eyes. “Goddamn you, Gojo,” she curses before quickly turning back around toward you. She ducks her head, but he catches the stray tear roll down her cheek before her hair fully hides her face. “You didn’t even give me time to get my smokes.”

The more time that passes where Satoru is forced to stand there, unable to do a goddamn thing for you or anyone else here, the more that he has to wonder what the worth of his strength even is.

Because, right now, it’s nothing.

His eyes have never left you after Suguru’s confession. He doesn’t think that he can face the implications of that yet. It’s so slow, the rise and fall of your chest, but he can see how rapid your pulse is under the delicate skin of your throat. Even from his vantage point and in the low light, he knows your skin is clammy. And the gore. It’s not like he hasn’t ever seen the result of a cursed spirit attack. He thought he was desensitized to that. But…things are different when it’s like this.

Guess this is what people mean when they talk about things hitting close to home. Seeing you there, your skin all torn open, blood so red…it makes him sick. His stomach has never rolled quite like this, not even when he was blearily watching his own skin stitch itself back together after getting shredded apart himself. He’d been…detached before he was totally healed and then the overwhelming euphoria poured in.

There won’t be any of that for you, he realizes. If Satoru is on the end of the emotional spectrum where he struggles to pinpoint feelings—even in himself—then you’re on the other side where you get it all. Your heart is too big. Always bleeding. Sitting there on your fucking sleeve, getting stabbed at by everyone and everything. Is this what you feel like all the time? Satoru’s brain is struggling to comprehend it all.

Aah, this is what it feels like to be weak, he suddenly understands. And he remembers how he’d felt it when that spear pierced his Infinity, right before metal sunk into flesh and he had to focus on survival. There was nothing he could do then and there’s nothing he can do now. This sucks, he thinks with the corners of his eyes stinging. No wonder you’re always undermining yourself and saying you’re weak.

How can you think you’re strong when your heart is always bleeding?

Nails digging into the skin of his palms, blood trickling through his fingers, he tries to think about anything else. He doesn’t want to cry. He never wants to feel like this ever again. He never wants anyone to feel this way again, actually. If he could go another day without ever having to hear your gut-wrenching cries when you were in the morgue with Haibara’s body or hear Suguru tonight, then he’d trade his soul away. He’d give his strength away. He’d pluck his eyeballs out and throw them to the highest bidder.

How can he do that, though? Satoru could throw his Infinity around your bodies, but it won’t protect your hearts. The two of you would never let him whisk you away to Kyoto and hide you away from the world forever, as much as he desperately wants to do that right now. Part of the reason that Satoru and every-fucking-one else loves you idiots so much is because of how fucking kind you are.

For some reason, Satoru thinks about that day near the start of the term, under the cherry blossom tree. This just isn’t a sustainable system, you’d said. I wonder how many Special Grade sorcerers there have actually been, but they just couldn’t reach their full potential because old men sent them off to die.

If he can’t make your hearts stronger, then he has to make everyone else stronger.

Satoru knows what he needs to do now.

The settling of Shoko’s cursed energy has Satoru lifting his head. It’s taken a lot of strength out of her. The healthier you look, the worse Shoko does. “We need to get back to campus.” Her hands are trembling, and she drops back on her ass, trying to catch her breath before she’s forced to move. “She’s stable now and I can take care of those kids back at school. I need to eat before I do, get my calories up,” she adds. “You didn’t hurt me on the trip here. Do you think you will hurt us if we go as a group?”

Right. The kids. They were hidden in the bush when Satoru and Shoko got here, but seeing Shoko healing and Satoru’s inaction must’ve been enough to coax them back out. They’ve been beaten. Satoru wondered, briefly, if they were the catalyst for what set Suguru off.

One of them, the one with dark hair, whispers your name. “She’s gonna be okay now?”

“Yes,” Shoko answers softly. “And so will you when we get back to Tokyo.”

“You’re…you’re Miss Shoko…right?”

“That’s right. I guess she told you about us?” The girls nod. “You know our names. What are yours?”

“Mimiko,” the brunette answers.

The other, the blonde, steps beside her sister and takes her hand before introducing herself as, “Nanako.”

Shoko nods in acknowledgement, slowly rising to her feet. “Okay. Well, Satoru over there knows how to move between places,” she explains while pointing over at Satoru. “He’s going to take us back to the school we go to. For people like us.” The girls nod again, eyes alight with understanding. “Don’t be scared. You’re safe now.”

“We’re not,” Nanako mumbles. “She told us we didn’t have to be scared with Mister Suguru around.”

Suguru had calmed down, his sobs quieting to silent tears, but hearing the kid say that has him hunching back over and covering his face in shame.

Shoko watches him, lips pressing into a thin line. “Take those kids first, Gojo,” she orders lowly. A complete turnaround from her earlier decision for them all to go at once. “It’ll be less of a strain on your body and ours. Do it in batches.” It’s a bullshit excuse. Right now, he’s scared of her. Those healing hands of hers can so easily become weapons. He’s seen it before. And, sure, she normally wouldn’t be a threat to Suguru, but there’s no fight left in him. “Now.”

In the end, though, she’s still right. There was no strain on her on the trip here, but he sure as fuck felt it. While future trips tonight will be easier in the fact that he has the two landing points in his mind, adding more people would ramp up what reprieve that gives. It’s more cursed energy, more brain power, more finely tuned control to keep the other bodies all in one piece.

What other choice does he have?

Satoru leaves the kids in his room. It’s comfortable, you’ve told him as much. He marches to Nanami’s room, but he’s already opening the door of his room when Satoru gets there. Apparently, the sudden absence then reappearance of Satoru’s massive amount of cursed energy woke Nanamin up. Satoru is in a rush, so all he can do is demand Nanamin watch the girls while he goes to get you because you got hurt.

Then, between one blink and the next, he’s back with you, Suguru, and Shoko.

The only hint that something happened between Shoko and Suguru is a dark mark on Suguru’s cheek and his split lip. Also, she’s got a lit cigarette in hand—probably stolen from Suguru. Satoru has never given thought to smoking. He’s never really seen the appeal, but he thinks he does now. Especially when Shoko beckons him over and he knows that he’s going to have to carry you on the second trip back to campus.

Bile rises to the back of his throat when he carefully lifts you up in his arms. He’s never been squeamish until he’s had to touch your blood-soaked clothes before. It’s disgusting and now, it’s sinking into his clothes. Satoru hates that. He knows you hate it, too. Wet clothes. You hate being sticky even more. It’s why you’re always so careful when you eat desserts with him. He hopes you blacked out as soon as you were hurt. He doesn’t want to think about you having to lay there, pained by more than the gashes themselves.

“Gojo will be back, Geto,” Shoko explains as she grabs Satoru’s upper arm since he can’t hold on to her right now. “Don’t you dare try to run. If I found out you tried, I’ll do a lot worse than punching you in the face.” To Satoru, she says, “Drop us off at my room.”

When they land and Satoru has gently placed you on Shoko’s bed, he collapses next to it, needing to catch his breath and run his own Reverse Cursed Technique. Not only has he gone the furthest he’s ever warped, but he’s done more trips than ever before, too. There’s still one more round-trip that he’s got to make. There’s a strain on his muscles that he’s never felt before. There’s a blossoming pain behind one of his eyes.

Shoko starts rummaging around in her pantry for something to eat. “I have some protein bars. You should eat one, too.” She throws one over her shoulder when she finds the box and he catches it without looking and pockets it. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t have the stomach for much right now. “Clean him up when you get back. Burn his clothes. We need to hide the evidence.”

Satoru bristles. “Stop treating him like a criminal.”

“Take off the rose-colored glasses and stop being naïve,” she snaps back. “You heard him.”

“Yeah, and he said he didn’t mean to. It was an accident—”

“Hurting her? Yeah, I believe that. It’s what led up to it that’s the problem.”

He stumbles to his feet, still glaring at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Geto just doesn’t lose control like that,” Shoko hisses before pointing at you. “She wouldn’t be hurt by one of his spirits unless he wanted it. He has to give them specific orders, you know that as well as I do. Maybe he didn’t intentionally have it attack him, but if he was pissed off enough, if he wasn’t careful enough with his order, then a spirit would consider her a threat.”

“Shut up.” Satoru wants to put his hands over his ears like a child. He’s in denial. She’s making sense, but he doesn’t want to admit that because it feels like acceptance. If what she’s saying is true, it doesn’t matter if he accidentally hurt you or not. If he was acting out of anger towards someone else, he’d be branded a curse user and there’s only one person strong enough to kill Suguru. “Have you forgotten who you’re talking about? The guy always riding on his moral high horse?”

“Stop pretending you’re both the same people after last year.” She presses the heels of her palms against her eyes. “Just leave me alone. I can’t deal with you right now. I’m saying that we don’t know, but you need to be a fucking adult and think about all the possibilities here. Also, you’re such a selfish asshole. Do you think I want to think about this? No. That’s why we’re hiding the evidence from Yaga.” She whispers your name. “If we had Suguru declared a curse user before she’s awake, it’d push her over the edge.”

Satoru feels less…panicky than before. He backs down. Glances at you while he asks Shoko, “What’s the story?”

“My residuals have covered up evidence of his on her,” she whispers. “Suguru got there too late. It’s why he keeps blaming himself. Any idiot at headquarters knows how close they are, so it won’t be hard to convince them that their relationship is what’s got him so hysterical.”

“Okay,” Satoru answers as quietly. “What—” his voice cracks. “What do we do if she wakes up blaming him?”

“That’s not something we can answer for each other, Gojo.”

“Explain yourself, Suguru.”

Just like Shoko said, Gojo Satoru is a selfish asshole. Somewhere between Shoko’s room and here, with Suguru, rage overcame Satoru. Because Suguru ruined everything. Instead of trusting Satoru or even you enough to talk about the things bothering him, Suguru let everything fester.

(But you didn’t, either, a nastier part of his brain reminds him.

Is there something wrong with Satoru?)

Suguru hasn’t moved. He’s still there, on his knees, staring blankly at your blood left behind in the grass. It’s like Satoru doesn’t even exist. It pisses him off more. What? Does Suguru think he can give up? He thinks he can sit around, crying over what he did to you, while everyone else has to clean up his mess? No way. Fuck that.

“Why?”

“Huh?!”

Suguru still hasn’t looked away from the place your body had been. “Why does it matter? I hurt a fellow sorcerer. That’s all you need to know, isn’t it?”

Satoru grits his teeth. “Why the hell are you being so vague now? Ten minutes ago, you were apologizing for hurting her!”

While saying your name hoarsely, Suguru reaches out to dig his fingers in the bloody grass. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t. But those…those goddamn monkeys…that’s who I wanted to hurt.” He squeezes his eyes shut, tears falling no matter how hard he tries to keep them from doing it. “I hate them, Satoru. All our suffering is because of them. They create curses. We exorcise them. Over and over until sorcerers die. First, it was Riko. Then, Haibara. When will it be you? When’s it going to be her on a metal slab?”

Under the weight of all this suffering, the anger quickly rushes out of Satoru. No, it’s still there, but he’s so stupid mad at himself for not seeing how bad things have gotten. He pretended that everyone else could separate themselves from their pain like Satoru has always done. He loves you. He loves Suguru. Why couldn’t he just see how much you two have been hurting?

Satoru doesn’t know what to do with all this sadness. He sprints forward, dropping and sliding in on his knees right in front of Suguru. He throws his arms around Suguru’s shoulders and Suguru seems to almost resist. He clenches his fists around the fabric of Satoru’s shirt. Then, he ducks his head down, pressing his head against Satoru’s sternum, trembling and giving another one of those sobs that’s just a gut punch.

“I wanted them dead. It was all I could think. I want them all dead. I want us to have a better world. I would start here. But I made the order too vague when I summoned them. I wanted to kill all the monkeys in this goddamned village and anyone that tried to stop me. She wasn’t even in the way. She said my name. She said, ‘Suguru, stop,’ and that was enough. They knew her because I know her, but I was so blinded by my rage. It was like nothing else existed but that.”

“It was an accident.” Satoru cups Suguru’s face with his hands, trying to get Suguru to look at him, but Suguru won’t budge. “It was an accident, Suguru. It’s okay. Look at me. Just look at me. It’s gonna be okay. We’re already figuring out how we can cover it up.”

Suguru just cries harder. “I can’t live like this, Satoru. Exorcise. Absorb. Exorcise. Absorb. Swallowing their shit. I want a better world, but I can’t do that, either. Because the people at the end of that road, standing in my way…it’s gonna be you and her.” He gives one sharp, hysterical laugh. “The people that I’d be doing it for, the only two fucking people that I love enough to make the world better for are the people that I’d need to hurt to get that utopia. How fucked up is that?”

“We’ll fix it,” Satoru whispers desperately. “It’s okay. We’ll figure out a way to fix it. The three of us, we can make this world better together.”

“Kill me, Satoru. Put me down. I’m begging you. I can’t live in this cycle anymore.”

“Stop! Stop it. Don’t you fucking ask me to do that.” Suguru finally loses the strength to fight Satoru’s hands. When Satoru lifts his face up, he goes. “Just listen to me. We’ll come up with a plan. We can make this world better together the right way. But you can’t give up on us. Me and Sketch, we can’t lose you. We can’t.”

“You don’t need me.” Satoru’s heart skitters in his chest when Suguru reaches out himself, hand on Satoru’s cheek. “I’m not good for either of you anymore. I can’t go back to being the person I was before.” Satoru shakes his head. He refuses to accept that. Suguru is the one holding Satoru’s face in his hands now, trying to make Satoru see his light. “You’re the best for her. I know you love her as much as I do. Take care of her. You can forget me and live a happy life together.”

“I can’t. I’d never be able to forget you. The only future I can see is one with Sketch and Suguru.”

“I don’t have a future anymore. I’m sorry.”

“I can’t accept that and neither will she.”

Suguru laughs bitterly, pulling away from Satoru completely. “Even now, after everything that’s happened, you’re still so damn arrogant, Satoru. What are you going to do if she wakes up condemning me? What will you do, then? Is the strongest sorcerer going to impose his will on her, too?”

“No! I’d never do that!”

“So, if she asked you to, will you kill me?”

“She wouldn’t!”

“I betrayed her,” Suguru whispers. “Weren’t you listening to those girls? I heard her say it myself. You never have to be afraid when Suguru’s around. Suguru is going to protect us all. She’s always trusted me. She wanted to leave all this pain behind, and I asked her to stay. I’ve been actively drowning her, but she couldn’t see it.” There’s a defeated slump in Suguru’s shoulders. “And neither can you, Satoru.”

Satoru doesn’t know what to say. He’s never been good with words. Not like you. But he does know that when you wake up, you’ll understand what Satoru does. You’ll say something along the same line as Satoru when he tells Suguru, “You’re hurting.”

“My pain doesn’t matter. I did what I did, and I need to be punished for it. I still believe in that. Justice.” Suguru stares Satoru dead in the eye before declaring, “I’m going to confess.” His features soften. “I know you’ve got a gentle heart, Satoru. You don’t need to worry. I’ll stick my neck out willingly so that you’ll never have to choose between me and her.”

When Suguru leans forward to press a chaste kiss against Satoru’s forehead, right over that tiny scar left behind last year, Satoru realizes that, yeah, maybe he is a little gentle. Because that gesture alone is enough to break him.

Satoru didn’t know what else to do with himself after everyone kicked him out—Shoko, so she could wipe away the blood and re-dress you, and Sensei, who needed to talk with Suguru about the details of what happened. He showered, desperate to be clean, but it’s like your blood left a stain on him even when he’d rubbed his skin raw. He put on one of Suguru’s hoodies because he’s broader than Satoru and the sleeves will cover his hands. He can’t look at them right now.

The sun is rising when Sensei tracks him down where he’s sprawled out on a staircase. He’s got a lit cigarette in one hand. Sensei has always been pretty good on keeping his habit on the low, wanting to be an excellent role model for his students, but even he has his limits, Satoru guesses.

“Suguru asked to be put in one of the cells.”

Figures, Satoru thinks bitterly.

“Should I?”

“You’re actually asking me that?” Satoru mumbles, no energy left to put any heat behind it.

Sensei sighs, as mentally exhausted as Satoru is. “My bad.”

Satoru straightens from where he’s been hunched over. After everything tonight—last night…something opened up in him. He’s got to stretch himself beyond the little world he’s cultivated. It shouldn’t have come to this, but he’s got a really shitty personality. He’ll always have one, probably. But he’s willing to learn now. It can’t be about him anymore.

“Sensei, I’m strong, right?”

“Yeah, brazenly so.”

“But apparently, it’s not good enough for just me to be strong.” Sensei’s a good dude. He listens. Doesn’t tell Satoru that he’s a dipshit for not realizing this sooner. Satoru throws Sensei a bone and says it for him. “Sorry, old man, for being a dumbass and not listening sooner.”

Sensei takes a drag of his smoke. “Don’t apologize to me for being a teenager. If anyone’s at fault, it’s us. The adults. The weight of the world shouldn’t be on your shoulders.”

“Not only on mine, though, is it?”

“No,” Sensei admits quietly. “Adults are forgetful. Not only do our days pile up, but so do our regrets and fears. With all that, it’s hard to remember that there was a time when we weren’t used to the weight of others’ lives on our shoulders. It’s just another one of those burdens that we carry.” He finally stoops down to sit next to Satoru. “At the end of the day, you’re all children. And to a child, it really is like having the world on your shoulders.”

“I know my shoulders can handle it, but…that’s only those of us that are born into it. Most of the school’s enrollment comes from scouting, doesn’t it?” It’s not only your face and Suguru’s that flash across his mind. It’s Nanami, too. Haibara. “We’re not giving anyone else the time to strengthen their shoulders, y’know? There’s not much fostering going on here. And that’s not a diss on you. No offense or anything, but you just don’t have the strength to keep us all safe enough to get that thick skin.”

Sensei exhales a cloud of smoke. “I know I don’t.”

“It’s not like we can add more teachers, though. Not enough out in the field to spare. But…hey, you ever read Fullmetal Alchemist? Nah, probably not. What about an ouroboros? Heard of that? It’s like this snake that eats its own tail. That’s us right now. Kids enlist and get thrown to the wolves before they can fend for themselves. Most of them die, so there’s few to go out in the world. Even fewer to stick around and teach. And that cycle goes on and on.”

“I agree.”

“We gotta break it.”

“I know we do, but how?” Satoru turns to stare at Sensei who is, in turn, studying Satoru in the same way. There’s this familiar spark in his eyes. Satoru thinks he’s seen it before. “You said it yourself. There’s not enough of us.” Oh. Wait. Yeah, Sensei is asking these pointed questions because he knows the answer already. He’s waiting on Satoru to figure it out himself. “How do we change things?”

Satoru knows what he needs to do. Last night, he knew that he needed to change things. But he understands how he’s going to do that now. “Make someone like me a teacher.”

A large hand suddenly drops on top of his head. “You’re going to be terrible at it,” Sensei whispers. He’s no longer looking over at Satoru, but he ruffles Satoru’s hair. “I look forward to working with you in the future, Satoru.”

***

Shoko crashes when everyone’s healed. Took those kids with her to bed.

Suguru…he’s holed up in his room when Sensei refused to put him in a cell, no matter how bad Suguru wanted it. The old man said that until you, the victim, corroborate Suguru’s story, there’ll be no imprisonment. Satoru asked Nanami to keep an eye on Suguru. Not that Satoru thinks he’s going anywhere. It’s like the fight left Suguru as soon as Sensei denied his request.

Nothing else for Satoru to do but keep vigil at your side. He’s seated on the floor next to your bed, cheek pressed against the mattress. He doesn’t do anything else. He doesn’t think he could focus on a game or manga or anime right now. Shoko’s always told him that Reverse Cursed Technique can do a lot, but it can’t wipe away the emotional weight of an experience. He can refresh his brain all he wants, but not his memories.

Before she went to bed herself, Shoko warned Satoru that this could break you in a way that you can never come back from. If they thought it was bad after Haibara’s death, this’ll be worse. Because it’s piled on for you. The incident with the Zen’in, the death that you blame yourself for, and even if Suguru didn’t hurt you, this is the closest you’ve come to death.

You can’t do what Satoru does—disassociate from the trauma. There’s no Infinity for you to keep people at bay when they start to close in on him the way all those fly heads had. If you’re scared the things that haunt your dreams, you’ll have to face it because you can’t wipe away the need to sleep with a technique. For the last two weeks, he’s watched you try to train yourself to smile, to try and distract yourself away from the thought constantly pressing in, but you’re not built for that like he is.

With every passing second, it gets harder and harder for Satoru to resist the urge to grab you and Suguru and flee to Kyoto. All he wants to do is protect you both. More than anything, he wants you to be happy. Neither of you have to be sorcerers anymore, he’d make sure of it. It doesn’t wear him down like it does you and Suguru. Or…maybe it does, but you two make it better.

It doesn’t take much for Satoru to be happy. For him, it’s as simple as the scratching of your pencil against paper. It’s the slide of Suguru’s fingers against the pages of his books before he flips them. It’s a gentle breeze that floats through your room when you open the window to get better lighting, carrying away the smoke of Suguru’s cigarettes. It’s the sunlight on his face and the press of your shoulders against his as you all lay on a blanket in the park.

Satoru doesn’t want to be lonely anymore.

As if between one blink and the next, the press of a hand on his cheek is pulling him from his doze. His vision is blurred when he opens his eyes, and your thumb is wiping away one of his stray tears.

You’ve rolled on your side to face him. There’s nothing on your face. Nothing in your eyes. It’s like your body is moving on autopilot. And none of that changes when he reaches up to return your gesture except that the breath in your chest shudders before tears roll down your own cheeks.

Satoru sees it for what it is. A war inside yourself—one side desperately trying to flee from the memories and emotions that come with them. Your body betrays you, though. Tear after tear slips from your eyes and soon, your bottom lip wobbles. You squeeze your eyes shut. Wordlessly, your hand moves down, fisting the fabric of his shirt, and you start tugging while shifting back on the bed to make more room.

“In the bed?” Satoru checks quietly.

You nod fervently in answer.

Satoru crawls up into bed with you. Your hands are greedier than they’ve ever been. He tries to be careful to not overwhelm you with touch, but you yank his arm to drape it over your waist so you can press yourself fully against him. You tremble in his arms, on the edge of collapse.

Right before you bite his shirt to muffle your gasps, you confirm what he’s known all along.

“Suguru hurt me.”

***

“Come again?”

You don’t repeat yourself, instead staring at Sensei with those lifeless eyes.

Sensei stares you down, waiting for words that aren’t going to come. He glances over at Shoko and, when she looks away, he then moves to Satoru. All Satoru can do is shrug helplessly. It’s not like either of them can make you talk. Satoru wouldn’t want to, anyway. He’s shocked you’re talking at all. This is the most you’ve spoken since you woke up two days ago. You haven’t had the energy for it…

Or anything else, for that matter. It’s been keeping Satoru up at night, stealing what little sleep he was getting before. It’s worse than it was after Haibara. You’d been a shell of yourself, but…you ate. A little. Once a day. Now…it’s like you’re a ghost. Shoko had threatened to pour some toxic sludge posing as a protein shake down your throat. She’d been so frustrated with you that she grabbed your chin, and you just gave her the same look as now. Not defiant. Not upset. Just…nothingness.

There’s not supposed to be smoking in the dorms, but Sensei lights one, anyway. “Explain what happened, then.”

“I wasn’t ready.” Your voice cracks from disuse. “The Grade 1 hurt me.”

“Suguru said it was under his control.”

“Not before it hurt me.”

Sensei presses a hand against his forehead, sighing. “Why would Suguru confess to something so serious?”

“Because it’s who he is. He’s upset he didn’t get there fast enough.”

For a long time, Sensei stares at you. “I need you to understand that our laws aren’t like normal ones. There’s no decision on whether or not to press charges against someone for a crime against you. If he hurt you, jujutsu law requires you to report that. If the official investigation results find that you lied to cover for him, you’d be charged as an accomplice and sentenced to death alongside him,” he explains carefully.

“I understand.”

“Good. So, knowing that, do you want to change your answer?”

“No,” you reply with no hesitation whatsoever. “Suguru didn’t hurt me.”

“There’s most likely going to be an official investigation.” Sensei is trying to get you to change your mind because he thinks it’s going to save your life. He knows you’re lying. Everyone that knows you and knows Suguru knows you’re lying. Suguru would never confess to something like this unless he actually did it. “I won’t be allowed to interfere.”

“Suguru didn’t hurt me,” you declare with an air of finality.

***

It’s a few days after you told Sensei your side of the story. Privately, Sensei confirms to Satoru what they all knew would happen. There’s going to be an official investigation. There’s no way they’d let something like this slide. The higher-ups are terrified of Suguru. Maybe more than Satoru. Satoru is a familiar threat. He’s a one-man army. But Suguru…as long as he’s alive, there’s no limit to how many strong his army can be. So, if there’s a chance that he’s gone off the rails, they’ll put him down. And you’ll just be collateral damage. You were always replaceable. A pet project. Nothing more.

“For the time being, you’re off assignments,” Sensei says to Satoru when he’s on his way out the door. Satoru glances over his shoulder at Sensei. He’s looking away. “You’re to keep your eyes on Suguru until the investigation is over.”

Satoru scoffs bitterly before leaving Sensei’s office without another word.

Shockingly, you’re not in your room when Satoru goes looking for you. You’re at the edge of the forest that they use for the Goodwill Event. Just sitting down in the grass, legs crossed, staring intently at some low-level cursed spirits who’d been lured to the tree line by your presence. He plops down next to you, ready to do the same thing he’s done since you woke up which is to be a steady presence.

“What do you see when I use my technique?”

Satoru is so startled by the sound of your voice that it makes him jump in place a little. His head snaps in your direction, but you never look away from the forest. “Uh…what?”

“Last year, when I influenced that old man…you said it was like there were two of me. It was like it was something you’d never seen me do before. But how was that different than what I do with a cursed spirit?”

It’s a weird thing for you to ask, but he’s desperate to hear more of your voice, so he tries to explain it. “Oh. It’s…normally, it’s kinda like…eh, a blanket? Yeah. When you pacify spirits, it’s like a blanket getting put over them. More than Suguru’s contract that looks like chains on them. With that geezer…” He hums. It was close to the blanket, is the thing. “It was like an infection, I guess. It was like there was this shot of your energy through his brain and it seeped through everything else. Does that make any sense?”

Your brows are knitted together in thought. “Yes,” you whisper after digesting all that. “Why is it different, though? What is my pacification but just another way to order a spirit around?”

“Maybe because the pathways are all different?” He crosses his arms over his chest, thinking about this harder now. “Spirits are just huge lumps of cursed energy. Cursed energy in sorcerers has a whole network to go through. Yeah, if you think about the shape of it, that might actually be why. Blanket for the lumps, an infection of sorts for sorcerers.”

You nod slowly. “Why do you think I didn’t have a brain bleed when I influenced Zen’in Ogi?”

“It could be a few different reasons, but the main one is probably time. The point behind this school is to hone your technique, y’know. They don’t really have a Sorcerer Biology 101 class, but our power grows as we do. You kind of peak after your body is done growing. Everyone, though, has this explosive burst of power when they hit puberty that lasts through the rest of your body’s development.”

“I’m still in sorcerer puberty?”

Satoru laughs a little. “Yeah, I guess that’s the best way to put it. It’s like your body is in the home stretch. C’mon, Sketch, I know you’re not dumb. You’ve noticed that your technique has developed over time, right? Why’re you asking such an obvious question?”

“But you said there were other reasons,” you remind him.

“It’s not obvious? C’mon, think about the basics here. How emotional were you? You were the angriest I’d ever seen you when you broke that geezer’s hip. How were you with Zen’in? Also, Zen’in Ogi loves to act like he’s hot shit, but he’s nowhere near as strong as he thinks he is. That guy never would’ve cut it as the head of the Zen’in. That higher-up is the stronger of the two.”

“But…you’re stronger than all the higher-ups combined, right?”

“Duh.”

“Do you think the action itself can cause more strain on me?”

“Huh?”

“Does it expend more energy for me to force an action than force a thought?”

“Oh. Probably, yeah. The Inumaki clan are like that. The more damage they cause to their opponent with their cursed speech, the bigger the blowback on the sorcerer themselves. It’s all about balance in sorcery.”

“Right.” You sigh softly. “I wish I had as much cursed energy as you.”

He rubs his ear absentmindedly. “You’re already halfway there. Once you pierce that barrier inside them, it’s really just a waiting game from there. You just need to finish letting your cursed energy flow through them.”

“Easier said than done. That’s probably where most of my energy is burnt up. If only there was a way to infect them faster…”

“Too bad you’re not like a snake or a spider and can just inject yourself in their veins, huh?” You don’t respond to that. You duck your head, staring down at your hands in your lap. Satoru doesn’t want you getting lost inside your head, so he tries to redirect the conversation. “How’d you like my explanations? Good? I’m gonna be a teacher, so I have to start working on that kinda stuff, right?”

You raise your head, turning to him with raised brows. “A teacher?”

“I’m gonna change things,” he swears. “Last year, when you said this system isn’t working, you were right. But there’s never been anyone strong enough to shake things up, not until me. What if that’s because of what you said? They were never allowed to grow before they died. The future needs someone strong enough to protect them, to let them grow. I’m gonna be that person.” He nods to himself. “I’m never letting anything like this happen ever again.”

For the first time in a really long time, you smile. It’s that small, genuine one that does what it’s always done—make his heart skip a beat. “You won’t be alone.” The back of his neck is getting warm. Why didn’t he bring his stupid sunglasses so he can obviously look away from you? Why can’t he stop blushing, damn it? “Let me be your spy on the inside. They’ll probably ask me to work at headquarters. I want to help you, too.”

As much as you hate dealing with people, that’d be the best course of action for you. It keeps you in this world, but you’re out of the line of fire. And…he doesn’t think you could cut it as a teacher. Kids are still going to die. Not as many as now, he hopes, but he knows the higher-ups won’t be happy with him. They’ll work to keep things the way they are. He can try his hardest, but he can’t be everywhere at once. You’d get too attached to the students. It’d break you.

“I’m going to make things right, Satoru,” you insist.

“You make it sound like it’s your fault.” Satoru leans sideways, his head butting against the top of yours. “Besides, the one in charge of fixing everything is me, isn’t it? It’s alright, Sketch. You don’t have to worry about things right now. I’m gonna figure something out. I promise that nothing else happens to either of you anymore, okay?”

***

The evening before the unofficial trial, when the sun is setting, you ask Satoru and Suguru to meet up with you. It’s at your favorite koi pond. The one where him, you, and Suguru named each fish. There’s a stone bench that you’re already seated at, posture straight and stiff, facing away from the pond. There’s a determination in your eyes that he’s been watching grow from an ember to an inferno over the past week. With that fire, though, is an edge.

“I know I don’t have any right, but…I’m glad you reached out,” Suguru admits softly. “I wanted to see you,” he adds again, even quieter than before. “Just one more time.”

There’s a bitter twist to your mouth. Before you rise to your feet, Satoru watches with a sinking stomach as that iciness forms in your gaze. Suguru flinches backward. Satoru resists the urge to do the same. No matter how mad you’ve been at them, you’ve always forgiven them. Were you finally pushed too far? Is what Suguru did unforgiveable to you?

“We both go, or we both stay. You remember when you said that, right?”

Suguru ducks his head. His shame never lets him keep it high anymore. “I do.”

“You’re as selfish now as you were then.” It’s not said as an accusation, no anger behind it, but it’s got Suguru hunching in on himself, anyway. “I keep finding myself here. Having to decide your future. If there’s anything I resent you for, it’s that. It’s worse now because it truly is life and death.”

“I’m sorry. I know it means nothing, but I am.”

“What about you, Suguru? Is there anything you resent me for?”

Satoru knows the answer even before Suguru confirms it with, “No. Nothing.”

“You will,” you whisper cryptically. “Do you remember the rest of that day? What happened when we made up? I told you what scared me most about coming to Tokyo. I don’t want you to leave me behind when we get there. Remember that?”

“I’m breaking that promise, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” Your words sharpen. “You keep saying that, but you begged me the other night to change my mind. You keep doing that. Wasn’t it enough hearing the first time that I didn’t blame you? Do you care that little about me? I don’t want your blood on my hands.”

Suguru sighs your name. “I need to be punished.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one to decide that?”

“You don’t want to punish me. That’s the problem.”

“Who says I don’t?”

The tension in Suguru’s shoulders loosens and there’s relief on his face for a moment before he straightens to his full height. He’s serious about receiving your punishment. He’s happy, too. Satoru feels stuck between you two. This…it’s your right, but…but he’s scared to lose you both.

“What is it? I’ll do anything.”

“Live.”

Suguru’s brows furrow. “What?”

“I’m making you do the thing that you clearly don’t want to do. I’m forcing you to live. You’re going to live with what you’ve done and you’re going to learn to live with non-sorcerers. I won’t make you stay a sorcerer, but I’m not letting you die. I’m not living in a world without you in it.”

He barks out a sharp, harsh laugh. “You can’t guarantee that, Squid.”

“I already have.” You raise a hand. Satoru had noticed a bandage wrapped around your palm last night, but you’d brushed him off like it was no big deal. That bandage is gone, showing a jagged gash. “I’ve already influenced them.”

Satoru’s stomach drops. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He should’ve asked more questions when you came back so exhausted from headquarters after they called you in to give your official statement. You’d told him that you wanted to study some cursed spirits, clear your head doing something you like. “What did you do?”

“It was easier than I thought it would be,” you start slowly. “All it took was a cup of tea. They trusted me too much. They trust us all too much, honestly. They left the kettle unattended. They didn’t look at the water before they let their tea steep. None of them noticed my blood in the water.”

“Blood?” Suguru repeats incredulously. “What?”

“I needed a quicker way to get my cursed energy flowing through them. I’d already tested it on the pencil pusher that drove me to headquarters. Coffee hides the taste better. It was harder with him than it was the higher-ups. Orders require more energy. It was just suggestions with the higher-ups. It took, though. They agreed.”

“Agreed to what?” Suguru asks hoarsely.

“You and I are going to make a binding vow. If a non-sorcerer should ever die by your hand, I die with them.” That look of horror on Suguru’s face is mirrored on Satoru’s own, he knows. “Even if they eventually realize that I influenced them, I doubt they’ll do anything. It’s a perfect deal. I’m a hostage. Neither of you would risk my life.” You pause. “That’s if you agree to the deal, of course.”

“I won’t,” Suguru spits.

“You will. Because if you don’t, I’ll tell them what I did. I’m an accomplice now. Binding vow or not, if you die then I die. You forced my hand.”

Suguru’s hands slowly ball up into fists. They’re clenched so hard that he shakes. You’ve trapped him. You’ve saved his life and he’s furious about it. This was the best possible outcome and Suguru has never looked so betrayed. “I will never wear a heartfelt smile in this world.”

“And I can never live in a world without you in it,” you state just as bluntly.

Tears well up in Suguru’s eyes. “For as long as we both live, I won’t forgive you.”

“I know. I’m doing what you wanted me to. I’m deciding what to do with your life. But I understand. I’ve accepted the risk. I’d rather you resent me for the rest of our lives than watch you die.”

“You’re cruel.”

“No crueler than you.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #anime #jjk fic #satosugu x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jjk gojo #jjk geto #gojo satoru #geto suguru #my fic #jjk angst

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demigodsanswer · 1 day ago

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what are some headcanons that you have for book percabeth?

I don't have a stable future headcanon for them, so these won't all be totally reflective of fics I've written before or will write in the future, but these are some of the main ones:

They actually wait quite a bit to have sex for the first time. They feel like so much in their life has been rushed, that they don't want to rush into that too.

That being said, they do take lots and lots of naps together, or share a bed at night the year following the Titan war. They are big, big cuddlers. No consensus on who is cuddlier. I think they both are.

Annabeth is a clothes stealing girlfriend, but she's actually not that much smaller than Percy, so he steals her hoodies right back.

Percy does graduate college with a higher GPA than her. He really excels finally being able to take classes he cares about. He studies Classics and secondary education with the intention of being a Latin teacher. Annabeth does study architecture at Berkeley, which is a harder program, which is why her grades are lower. She also majors in Philosophy for fun.

During college, their favorite date activity is getting high and going to the aquarium. "Annabeth, the fish can tell I'm high." "Oh shit, do you think they'll tell your dad?" Also all the fish call Annabeth things like "My lady" and "sea princess" because they think she and Percy are married. When they start doing this, Percy gets so red that Annabeth knows something's happened. He tells her, and she walks around so happy for the rest of the week. "You're that happy you got aquatic approval?" "Yes!"

They spend all of college talking about getting married and having kids as soon as possible. And then they get out of college and move back to New York, and they suddenly experience the unique horror of being in your early 20s. Suddenly they realize they cannot have kids right now, oh my god, they have no idea what they're doing let alone how to bring a child into all of this.

They do get married pretty soon out of college. The wedding is small and on the beach, but it's special and a big fucking party too. Percy tells her that he won't be mad if she doesn't take his last name, and also offers to hyphenate his name if they want to go that route. But she wants to be part of the Jackson family. But it does take her like 2 months to actually fill out all the name change paperwork.

Annabeth thinks she's going to get a simple dress, maybe even like a jump suit or something. But she's not liking anything she's trying. So the bridal consultant suggests trying something super girly, just as a pallet cleanser to see if they can maybe reassess what she might like. Annabeth finds this super girly blue ballgown and tires it on and falls in love. It's perfect. She actually cries. Sally cries (Sally is with her of course). Something like this --

They do have kids starting around age 27, after Annabeth has done her master's degree and gets a really nice promotion at her firm.

It actually takes about a year for them to get pregnant. They almost need to do fertility consultations because it's taking so long. But then they finally conceive! (In every universe, their first baby is a girl with blonde hair and green eyes named Sophia).

Fred buys them a brownstone in the city, basically to try and apologize for everything about Annabeth's childhood, and to ensure that they both always feel safe and stable in a home. The top floor needs serious renovations when they move in, but this is part of the gift. Annabeth has a project she can be completely creative with. The downstairs is all ready for them to move into. They even have a small backyard. Their house becomes the place for demigod and family reunions, and also a crash pad for demigods on the run.

They end up having mostly girls. I tend to give them about 2-4 kids depending on the story, all girls or almost all girls. Percy is such a girl dad.

#percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #headcanons

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caesariawritesstuff · 2 days ago

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I WOULD LIKE A SINGLE ROSE 🌹 PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE RIDDLER GETTING PEGGED 🛐🛐🛐FOR THE FIRST TIME 💋 and mayhaps a whiny side?👀

but yeah him getting pegged by the detective💕💕

Also you're my favorite author💕💕😊 keep slaying in your work💅✨️

And i hope you'll have a wonderful valentines 💕💕💐✨️🍓⭐️🍷‼️‼️❗️‼️❗️

Role Reversal

Summary: Edward and you decide to try something new.

Word Count: 3.7k

Content Warning: Pegging, fucking, cock sucking, NSFW

A/N: Ahh anon, I really hope you enjoy this and thank you for your kind words! I've ever written a pegging scene before, so this is a little out of my comfort zone, but I hope you enjoy!

“Are you sure about this?” you asked.

Edward stared at you for a long moment. The question was one you’d been asking consistently for weeks now – ever since the idea passed between you two one night while lying in bed together. You’d been scrolling through your phone, looking up ways to spice things up in the bedroom (not that there was anything lacking, Edward knew, but it never hurt to try new things to add variety to one’s life) when you came across the idea of pegging.

At first, Edward hadn’t thought much about it when you read it off the list of ways to spice things up in the bedroom, but something about the concept had made him…curious. He soon found himself looking into the sexual act on his own time, doing research, where he soon discovered that it could be a highly pleasurable act for the male participant, as well as a way to be quite vulnerable with one’s partner. Not that Edward particualry liked being vulnerable, but with you, well…he had found himself letting his walls down more often than not. Especially since you had allowed him the honor of having anal sex with you, Edward couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like for him – which lead to him spiraling into watching several porn videos featuring the subject, which he, surprisingly, found himself quite turned on about. The very idea of surrendering control to another person, to allowing himself to be so open…it was a highly terrifying concept to him, but with you…well, he supposed there would be no other person he would allow such an intimate and vulnerable act with him.

And so, Edward had approached you with the idea one night over dinner. You’d stared at him like a deer in the headlights for a long moment, as if uncertain of what he was asking, before you shrugged and said, “I’ve never done it to someone before. But if you want to try, we can.”

He’d smirked at that, and soon found himself buying all the necessary equipment: lube, a harness for you, a strap on which he picked out: one that was beginner friendly and made of a silicone green color (because of course he had to go for green). He found a harness which would provide clitoral stimulation for you, as well, as he wanted to make sure this was just as pleasurable for you as it would be him. Edward wasn’t particularly worried; after all, his attraction for both men and women was there, even if he hadn’t leaned either way until he met you. But he’d made sure to pick out a strap on that was aesthetically pleasing to both your eyes, and you’d helped pick out one you thought the both of you would like. Edward couldn’t help but notice that you seemed particularly nervous about the whole thing, your eyes going downcast and a flush appearing on your cheeks whenever the two of you discussed how this would go. He knew you were quite open with your sexuality, but seeing you act so shy around doing this was fascinating to him – even if it meant he asked you the same question just as often.

“Are you sure, my dear?” he asked, staring at you from across the bed.

You looked down at the bed: at the array of new equipment that had arrived in the mail yesterday, laid out and on display for the both of you to inspect. Edward knew you’d done your own research, but still, he wouldn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to.

Finally, you met his gaze again. “Yes, I’m sure. Are you?”

He nodded, smirking. “Quite sure, my dear.” His cock twitched, standing at attention in front of him, already leaking precum from the tip. His balls tightened against his skin, warm, veins throbbing along his shaft.

You glanced down at his hard on and smirked. The heavy swell of your breasts swayed as you moved around the bed, your nipples pert and at attention. Edward took in every inch of you: the dips and curves, the gentle sway to your hips as you walked towards him, the seductive look in your heavy-lidded eyes. The breath caught in his throat; he’d seen you naked a million times already, the image burned into his corneas, and yet it seemed he could never get enough of you. Every time he saw you naked, it was like the first time all over again. Excitement rumbled in his belly, his cock twitching again, as you neared him. Your hands snaked out, gently brushing against his forearms. He leaned down, capturing your lips in his own, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You tasted sweet, and a shiver ran down his spine. His cock pressed against your thigh, and his hands settled themselves on your waist, gripping tightly, digging his nails in as if he would never let you go again.

You sighed into his mouth as you tilted your head back, letting him continuing to glide his tongue against your own. He shuddered and ran his hands from your hips down to the slope of your ass, feeling the smooth skin on his fingertips. You shuddered against him, and Edward smirked, a delicious tingle creeping up his spine. His other hand came back around to tweak at your left nipple, pinching and pulling it, testing the heavy weight of you breast in his hand. You moaned lightly, arching your back further into him, before your own hands ran down his shoulders – down, down, down, until they reached his own hips. Edward held his breath as your long fingernails grazed against his sensitive skin, but soon, your hands were trailing along his backside, gently raking against his ass, and he shuddered at the sensation.

His smirk grew, his heart hammering against his ribcage, beating in time with your own as he kissed you deeper. His cock continued to pulsate with a furious need – but it wasn’t long before you dropped to your knees in front of him, taking his cock into your mouth. He groaned at the sensation of your smooth lips wrapping around his shaft, your tongue massaging along the head and glands of his penis. He tilted his head back, a soft gasp escaping his lips. Heat prickled along his skin and excitement pooled in his belly. Edward’s hands tangled themselves in your hair, twisting and pulling on the strands, as you swallowed him from base to tip; his cockhead hit the back of your throat and he groaned louder, a deep rumbling in his chest. But as you did, continuing to massage him with your tongue and mouth – he felt one of your hands snake behind him to his ass again, gently probing between his ass cheeks to probe at his tight entrance. Edward gasped at the sensation, at how sensitive his tight sphincter was, the sudden pleasurable sensation that traveled through his backside and down his thighs. You pulled away, saliva dripping from your mouth, as you snatched some lube off the side of the bed, opened it, and squirted some onto your finger. The clear substance coated your first few fingers, before you glanced up at him again, smirking, as your mouth swallowed him once more.

Edward groaned, his eyes fluttering closed, as he lost himself to the feeling of you working his cock with your mouth like magic. Your hand circled back around to his ass, and with one lubed-up finger, you probed at his back entrance. In the last few weeks, you’d done this a few times to help prepare him for this moment – and Edward sucked in a breath, helping himself relax, as you pushed one finger inside him. He hissed between his teeth at the pressure as your finger slowly slid in with ease. Within seconds, the pain began to subside, making room for the pleasure as you slowly slid your finger in and out of him. Pleasure surged through him as you stimulated his sensitive glands, and he groaned, his breath coming out in shallower pants. The combined pleasure of your mouth on his cock and finger in his ass was overwhelming, making him tremble, and his fingers tightened in your hair.

“…fuck,” he whispered, as stars danced behind his eyes.

Slowly, he felt a second finger at his tight entrance, and he gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw tight as you worked a second finger into him. He groaned at the sensation of his ass being stretched and filled – but the way your fingers moved inside of him quickly helped some of the tense, searing pain subside within moments. With two of your fingers inside of him now, he only felt another wave of intense pleasure bundle inside of him, different from the way your mouth sucked him off or how it felt when he was inside of you, but good, nonetheless.

Finally, after several minutes of working him with your mouth and fingers, you pulled away, gazing up at him with glistening eyes. Your cheeks were flushed, saliva dripping down the side of your mouth. He whined slightly as you pulled your fingers from his ass, and at the absence of your wonderfully pretty mouth sucking him off.

“Are you ready?” you asked him.

Edward hesitated; the question held so many implications. He trusted you, yes, of course he did – but this level of intimacy and vulnerability was one so far out of his own territory, that he found himself just a tad worried about how this was going to go. But he refused to show weakness, to back down from the challenge he had presented to you, and he smirked as he nodded, brushing his thumb along you mouth to wipe away a bit of the spittle on your lips.

“Of course, my dear,” he said.

You nodded and stood up, turning back to the bed. You snatched up the harness and quickly slipped into it, fastening it around yourself tightly in a way that was comfortable for you, and then secured the strap on to the base. Edward’s eyes dropped to the green dildo, a few inches long in length, with veins running throughout the shaft. His cock twitched at the sight, and excitement and nerves melded together in his belly. Seeing you standing there with a strap on hooked around yourself was quite a sight to behold, but he couldn’t help but notice the flush to your cheeks, the shyness in your gaze as you studied yourself with curiosity. Edward smirked, reaching down to give his cock a few strokes in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure.

“Well?” you said, turning to face him, gesturing to the bed.

Edward nodded, carefully laying down onto his stomach, on his hands and knees. He heard the squirting of lube again as you prepared yourself – but instead, he felt your fingers once more probing at his tight entrance. The first finger slid in with more ease this time, before you inserted a second finger. Edward hissed slightly at the pressure, gritting his teeth. But within seconds, pleasure replaced the pain. He arched his back slightly, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

He grunted in response, his forehead falling onto the mattress. You inserted a second finger into his ass, curling them inside of him, and he groaned at the sensation. His cock brushed against the bed, but he refrained from touching himself. A moment later, he you probe his tight sphincter with a third finger, and he hissed again as he felt his asshole stretch open. The combined pressure and pleasure of your three fingers in his ass made him tense, made his insides bundle with pleasure and excitement. His cock throbbed, leaking precum, and he grinded his hips into the bed for some sense of relief.

“Ah-ah,” you said, and he could practically hear the smile in your voice. “Can’t control yourself, can you, Mr. Nigma?”’

“Be quiet,” he muttered, a rush of anger surging through his veins. Here he was, ass up, your fingers massaging his sensitive prostate, curling inside of him and making him squirm.

You laughed lightly, but after several more minutes, you pulled your fingers from him. “What’s wrong, Edward? Does it feel better than you expected?”

He was quiet for a moment while he considered your question. “Of course I knew it would feel good. You should be thrilled that I’m allowing you this honor.”

“Uh-huh,” you laughed again, but he glanced over his shoulder at you as he watched you grab the bottle of lube again. You squirted some onto your hand and rubbed it along the strap on until it was dripping. Using a little more, you slid your fingers back in between his ass cheeks and lubed him up. Edward shuddered, sucking in a breath, nerves tightening in his belly – until he felt the head of the strap on pressing against his ass.

“Are you ready?” you asked him.

“Just do it,” he muttered, unable to help the flush crawling up his throat.

And then, you pushed in. Edward clenched his jaw tight, his hands fisting around the bed sheets, the breath catching in his throat. The cockhead of the strap on was smooth and silken, and as you pushed, he felt his tight sphincter open slightly, enough to begin accepting the head – but it was bigger than your fingers, and a slight, searing pain trickled along his opening. He gritted his teeth and whined slightly at the intrusion.

You stopped your movements. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I’m okay,” he muttered again, refusing to back down. “I can take it.”

“I don’t think you can,” you said, and he swore he pictured your sneaky smile.

He scoffed out a laugh. “I think you’re treading on treacherous water, my dear.”

“Am I?” you asked – and you pushed in a little more.

He gasped again, feeling the head push farther into him. His knuckles turned white as he gripped tighter onto the bedsheets. “Fuck,” he whispered as another low whine escaped his lips.

You laughed again, one of your hands stroking his ass, fingernails raking against his skin. “Something wrong, Mr. Nigma? Or is this too much for you?”

Edward ground down on his teeth. “Nothing is ever “too much” for me. I can—”

You pushed in a little more, cutting him off. Edward gasped. His head slumped forward as sweat beaded on his brow, his insides aching at the continued intrusion, yet somehow giving way to a pleasure he’d never experienced before.

“You were saying?” you asked, your voice laced with a strange, authoritative tone.

Edward quirked a brow, sucking in a breath at the way your voice changed. “Are you enjoying this, my dear?” he asked.

“Are you?” you asked, pushing in even more, this time a little harder.

That elicited a low, strangle whine from his lips. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, and he cursed under his breath. The pressure was intense, and yet pleasurable, in a strange way he hadn’t predicted. He felt his tight sphincter open, stretching around the smooth, silken strap on. Your hands placed themselves on his waist, digging your nails in.

“…you little minx,” he whispered, a low laugh escaping his lips. “I think you are enjoying this. Enjoying that a man like me, the Riddler, is surrendering control to you—”

At that, you pushed in more, a little harder this time, cutting him off as another whine, a cry of surprise, escaped his lips. There was something about being in this position, so vulnerable and open and letting you have the control, was completely foreign to him. Sweat beaded across his skin, shimmering in the light, and he swallowed down another whine.

“…I think you like letting me have the control,” you whispered.

That made him laugh again. “As if,” he muttered. “You should be grateful you’re getting this honor of fucking me like this.”

“Oh, like this? you asked, and pushed even farther in.

Edward gasped, jerking back slightly at the even further intrusion, as the cockhead of the dildo hit a particualry sensitive spot inside of him. He shuddered at the sensation and his sweaty forehead fell onto the bed, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

“What was that?” you asked, thrusting your hips slightly.

He whined again. The pain and pleasure melded into a delicious sensation he’d never experienced before. The stretch of his asshole, combined with the way the fake cock stroked against his walls, made him see stars. The way it slicked in and out of his tight hole made another low groan escape his lips.

“You know exactly how this feels,” he whispered.

“Feel good, Mr. Nigma?” you asked.

“Y – yes,” he whispered, lower and more needy than he intended.

“You’re going to have to be louder than that, sir,” you said again – as you pushed in even more, a little harder this time, and he swore his eyes rolled back in his head. It was taking all his effort to keep himself propped up on his trembling hands and knees.

“…you should keep that pretty mouth of yours shut,” he whispered.

You laughed again, and he felt you the cock slide out of him – before sliding back in again, a little harder this time. The cockhead hit another spot, one that made his back arch further and he whined even louder. His cheeks flushed as an embarrassed heat crawled across his skin. Here you were, impaling his ass with a fake cock, laughing at him – and he was not only embarrassed but beyond aroused, too. His cock throbbed harder, desperate for relief.

“I’m all the way in,” you said after a moment. “Do you want me to fuck you, Edward?”

Your question made his skin tingle and a shiver creep down his spine. “Y-yes,” he whispered again, his voice low and needy.

“What was that?” you asked. As you spoke, you rocked your hips slightly. The fake cock brushed once more against his most sensitive spot, and he groaned.

“Yes!” he grumbled, whining. “Yes, please…”

“Please what?” you whispered now, your voice taking on a husky tone.

“Please…please fuck me, detective,” he gasped out, pressing his hips backwards.

“Good boy,” you said – and those two little words almost made him cum instantly. Your praise sent lighting through his skin. You’d never praised him like this before, and something about it ignited something deep and hidden within him.

He shuddered as you pulled back – and then entered him again. The sensation of the fake cock brushing against his move sensitive spot made another low, quiet whine escape his lips. White spots danced between his eyes, his hands tightening around the bedsheets – but you pulled back and thrust into him once again. First with shallow thrusts, each one making a soft gasp escape his lips. The pleasure was like nothing he’d ever experienced before, nothing he’d felt, and heat prickled along his skin. Soft gasps left his mouth with each thrust as you pulled back and entered him, over and over again. He gritted his teeth and grunted each time you entered him, your hands digging into his hips, nails biting into his flesh.

“Fuck…fuck,” he whispered, unable to stop the curses from slipping from his mouth. His cock continued to pulse with furious need, desperate for stimulation. It brushed against the blankets, and the combined sensation of you fucking his ass and the rubbing made him groan.

Your thrusts were shallow at first, more gentle, and he could hear your own steadied breaths with each time you thrust into him. Edward’s head tilted backwards as his eyes squeezed shut, and stars danced behind his eyelids. Pleasure continued to flicker and burst inside of him, each stroke of yours growing bolder, more desperate, as if you were enjoying this just as much. Being this vulnerable, letting you have such control over him…he couldn’t describe it, couldn’t explain how it felt to just let go and lose himself to the sensations.

“…fuck, detective,” he whispered again.

“You like this, Edward?” you asked, thrusting a little harder and deeper into him – eliciting a strangled cry of pleasure from him.

His cock pulsed again. Each thrust only made more whines and curses spill from his lips. His knuckles fisted tighter into the bed, turning white – but he couldn’t control himself anymore. The bundle of nerves continued inside of him, each time the fake cock stroked against his prostate, another low whine escaped him, trembling as he shook and sweat rolled down his back. The pleasure was intense and yet overwhelming, and it continued to grow inside of him, like a balloon swelling with water.

“Gonna cum, Edward?” you asked.

“Uh-huh…” he moaned, low and whiny, deep in his throat.

“Touch yourself,” you whispered. “Cum for me, Edward.”

That was just the permission he needed. He reached in between his legs and grabbed his cock, wrapping his long fingers around the shaft, and he stroked rapidly, desperately – but all he needed was just a few strokes before that balloon of pleasure inside of him popped – and he came with a strangled cry. His cock pulsed as cum burst from the tip, soaking the bed sheets underneath him, his whole body quaking as you thrust even faster into him, helping him ride out his orgasm. His entire body tensed as he saw fireworks, and another curse escaped his lips – before his body collapsed onto the bed, sticky cum coating his stomach, pooled underneath him.

Your thrusts slowed, before coming to a stop entirely. Edward remained quiet as his body continued to pulse with pleasurable warmth, before you pulled out of him. The sudden emptiness of his asshole made him shudder, even though he felt the slick lube in between his ass cheeks. He sucked in breaths, trying to control himself, but he felt your hands on his back, nails stroking against him as you leaned over his body, your lips grazing the back of his neck.

“Good boy, Edward,” you whispered, kissing his cheek. “You did so well.”

“You be quiet,” he muttered again. “It’s an honor you get to see me like this.”

“Like what?” you laughed lightly. “Thoroughly fucked?”

He smirked, staring at you with heavy lidded eyes. “You know I’m going to pay you back for this, don’t you, my dear?”

You smirked back. “I’m counting on it.” And you pressed your lips to his.

#caesariawrites #cat&mouse!verse #the riddler #edward nigma #arkham riddler #arkhamverse riddler #edward nygma #the riddler x you #the riddler x y/n #the riddler x reader #edward nigma x y/n #edward nigma x reader #edward nigma x you

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fuck1ng-queen · 2 days ago

Text

Under the stars

Nick Folio x Reader

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: none, just some fluuuuuuufy things today!

Author comments: hi, besties! today is the day to celebrate valentine's with our baby drum boy Folio 💕 thank you so much for all the love you're giving me these days with all the notes, i'm so happy for it! i hope you like it and i'll see you tomorrow! (i didn't had time to make a header for today's fic, on sunday i'll make one and put in here)

It was a clear, cold morning, with the rays of the winter sun lighting up the streets still covered in the night's dew. You woke up to the soft sound of a notification on your phone, a message that brought an instant smile to your face:

Drum Boyyy: “Good morning! Ready for the best Valentine's Day ever?”

Folio was the kind of person who made small moments seem big. You had met by chance, a meeting that began with shy glances in an instrument store and evolved into long conversations about everything from music to the meaning of life's little coincidences. Today was special, and he had insisted that you leave everything in his hands.

After replying with a heart emoji, you got up and started getting ready. He had only told you to wear something comfortable and be ready by 10am. Your curiosity grew each minute, but you trusted him and knew he loved to surprise.

At 10 a.m., Folio stood at your door, carrying a large backpack and a mysterious expression. He was wearing a flannel shirt that looked like it was made for hugging, and his smile was contagious.

“Happy Valentine's Day,” he said, extending his hand to you. “Are you ready?”

“Depends. Shall we climb a mountain or something?” you joked.

He laughed, the warm sound filling the cold air. “Nothing too extreme, I promise. But I need you to trust me.”

You drove on for about 30 minutes, until you reached a park you had never visited before. The place was a quiet haven, with tall trees and winding trails. Folio took a blanket out of his backpack and some bags full of food.

“A picnic?” you asked, watching as he began to organize everything precisely.

“Well, it's more than that,” he replied, his eyes shining with enthusiasm. “But let's start here.”

You sat on the blanket, and he revealed hot coffee in a small thermos, carefully wrapped sandwiches and a bowl of fresh fruit. You talked about recent memories, laughed at inside jokes and shared a bar of chocolate that he had bought just because it was your favorite.

“You really pay attention to everything, don't you?” you commented, smiling as you unwrapped the chocolate.

“Always,” he replied without hesitation. “Especially when it comes to you.”

Time seemed to slow down, and everything around you seemed wrapped in a bubble of tranquillity. After you had eaten, Folio asked you to close your eyes.

“Trust me, it'll be worth it,” he assured you with a mysterious tone.

“Nick, if I open my eyes and find a strange bug, you're in trouble,” you said with a laugh, but you obeyed.

With your eyes closed, you heard the sound of rustling paper and smelled the faint scent of flowers. When he finally told you to open your eyes, you saw a notebook in his hands and a wreath of flowers that he carefully placed on your head.

“I know you love to write,” he began, a little hesitantly, ”so I thought I'd create a space just for us. I want this notebook to be a place for us to put our moments together. We can start right now.”

It was such a simple gesture, but so meaningful. With a lump in your throat and a sincere smile, you accepted the notebook and wrote the first entry:

“Today, in the park, Nick gave me one of the most beautiful presents I've ever received. It wasn't just the notebook or the bouquet of flowers, but the feeling that he really understands me.”

Folio read what you had written and smiled, picking up the pen to add something. “My handwriting isn't as nice as yours, but here we go,” he said before writing:

“Making you smile is my favorite thing on earth. I hope we never stop writing this story together.”

You laughed when you saw his handwriting, slightly slanted and with some letters too big. “It's perfect,” you said. “Just like today.”

The day continued with more surprises. A short trail took you to a lookout point with an incredible view, where he took a guitar out of his backpack. You looked at him in surprise.

“Since when do you carry a guitar? In fact, how much stuff can you fit in there?”

“Ever since I found out that you love live music,” he replied, sitting down on a tree trunk. “This one's for you.”

He began to play a soft melody, and although he wasn't a professional guitarist, every note seemed to be charged with feeling. The song was one of your favorites, and you felt your eyes fill with tears as he sang softly.

“That was amazing,” you said when he had finished, clapping your hands jokingly. “I think you just got extra points.”

“Good to know,” he replied with a shy smile, putting the guitar away. “But it's not over yet.”

You took photos together, laughed about how none of them were “perfect,” and talked about your plans for the future. Folio mentioned places he wanted to visit with you, stories he wanted to create and even recipes he wanted to test, as long as you act like his “official guinea pig.”

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in orange and pink, Folio looked at you with a more serious expression.

“I planned all this because I wanted you to know how important you are to me,” he said, his voice full of sincerity. “But more than that, I want you to know that every moment with you makes every other day worth it.”

You felt your heart racing as he held your hand. “I know I’m not perfect, but I want to keep trying to be, for you.”

You squeezed his hand tightly, smiling. “Nick, you’re already more than enough. Thank you for today… for everything.”

The sun was already disappearing on the horizon when Folio stood up and reached out his hand for you one more time.

“C’mon, there’s one more thing I want to show you,” he said with a smile.

Curious, you followed him to a small clearing where there was a makeshift campfire. He skillfully lit the flames, and you sat around the fire.

"Remember that night we talked about our favorite things?" Folio asked, his face lit up by the flames.

"Of course, it was one of our first conversations," you replied wistfully.

“So, I bought marshmallows,” he said, pulling a bag out of his backpack. “I thought it would be a good way to end the day.”

You spent what felt like hours roasting marshmallows, sharing stories, and laughing together. Every minute was filled with a genuine connection, a reminder of how much you cared for each other.

As the stars began to shine in the sky, Folio approached and put his arm around you. “I wanted this day to be unforgettable, and I hope it was.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of the fire and the comfort of his presence. “It was more than unforgettable. It was perfect, Nick.”

He turned his face gently, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart soar. “Can I do one last thing to make the day truly perfect?” he asked, his voice low and soft.

You smiled, feeling the heat rise to your face. “What would that be?”

Folio didn't answer with words. Instead, he leaned in slowly, his lips meeting yours in a tender, meaningful kiss. The world around them seemed to disappear, leaving only the warmth of the fire and the rapid beating of your hearts.

When you finally parted, he whispered: “Now, yes, perfect.”

You smiled, your eyes shining with emotion. “I agree. Perfect.”

And in that instant, under the starry sky and with the soft sound of the fire crackling, you knew that Valentine's Day would forever be a precious memory. Not just for the surprises or gestures, but for the sincere love you shared.

Masterlist | Valentine's One Shots

Send me an ask to join my taglist

taglist: @lacy1986 @kenjipepsi1 @chey-h @concretejunglefm @blade-dressed-in-red @xxkittenkissesxx @bloody-spades

#bad omens #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic #nick folio #nick folio x reader

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pebblysand · 3 days ago

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this is a political space.

i know. i've been a bit quiet lately.

quiet with everything that's happening, and since castles ending, and not that i've been regrouping, but i've been putting off blogging. mostly because in the grand scheme of things, i don't believe that what i say (or think) really matters, and i never want to sound pedantic or entitled. but.

i have gotten/seen a couple of comments about castles in the past few weeks that have made me reflect. specifically, in their own way, both the ones i'm thinking of at the moment, were saying multiple versions of the same thing: "i read fanfiction for the purpose of escapism, and i didn't like that this fic featured politics so heavily."

now, i want to state at the outset that i am not writing this post to throw shade at these commenters, or to complain in any way. one of them follows me on here, and was awfully kind and sweet and really not meant as a criticism at all, just an observation. the second was a post made on reddit, which is a reader space, and they have a right to their opinion as long as they're not screaming it in my face in my comments (which in this case they weren't), so that's no problem.

it's just that, as i said above, it's made me reflect, and question. why do i do this? as you may know, i've embarked recently on my first "real" project since castles (the fault in faulty manufacturing, part 2) which i'm hoping to release on St Patrick's Day (please lord let me keep my deadline), and am envisioning to be probably around the same length, wordcount-wise as tfifm (but we shall see).

broadly speaking, it is a story about love and choice, and hope, and sacrifice. more narrowly, it is a story about a girl who is having to cope with being caught in the aftermath of two wars: a colonial war she didn't fight in (the Troubles) but is omnipresent in her daily life, and a civil war she did fight in (the Second Wizarding War) but which almost no one around her knows exists. it is a story about the dynamics of marital affairs and the boundaries of choice, a story about the realities and ethics of war reporting in the media and a story about adoption and surrogacy.

i wonder: do you see where i'm going with this? my point is: chiefly, yes, i write about people. i write about people and their lives and i write with as much empathy as i can muster, to give a voice to my characters (and through them, to all of us). that will always be my guiding principle. but i also think that to me, with the kind of writing i do, the line between people and politics is thin. how can i write about abortion and/or surrogacy, without acknowledging dobbs? how can i write about muggle rights without acknowledging the fact that muggles and squibs are an allegory for marginalised communities?

the comment i read on reddit basically said: "i liked pebbles until she started including politics." i won't lie: it made me cackle (because what a slay) but since then, i can't stop wondering: what "until" are we talking about, here? the aftermath of the war is political. the trials are political. harry's job as a cop is political. ginny's assault is political. or, is the problem when international matters got involved? when muggle politics became more explicitly influential? is the assault on a personal level okay, but the moment you give it political resonance with #metoo, it isn't?

nothing i write will ever exist in a political vacuum. because people and their experiences don't exist in a political vacuum. and, to be clear, i have never written to convince anyone. i am not here to convince you that the 2003 US invasion of Iraq was wrong, or that violence against women is endemic. if you are a reader and disagree with these statements, then that is - frankly - your problem, not mine. i see my work more like a... dissenting opinion. a hopeless, mostly impact-less but also somehow hopeful and impactful dissenting opinion.

i was re-reading the dobbs dissent this morning (as one randomly does, lol). in conclusion, justices breyer, sotomayor and kagan wrote: "with sorrow, [...] we dissent." these days, i think that's why write. because with sorrow, i dissent. and i don't think my little fanfictions in this little corner of the internet will ever be important or change anything to the world we live in - i don't even think the original fiction i will eventually write (i promise) could change anything. i just hope that someone else will read my work and think: "yeah, with sorrow, i dissent, too." and so, with sorrow, we will continue to dissent.

i know (and understand) that what fandom wants, right now, is escapism. i know (and understand) that to a lot of people, right now, fandom is a safety valve and a safe space away from the aggressions brought on by the rest of the world. you see this even with published fiction and the rise of "cosy" literature. and god, i get it. i really do. i don't blame you. what fandom wants from me, right now, is more slipped and the wolf's just puppy and less castles, act 3.

but i can't give you that. it's never really been me, and it's certainly not me right now. i don't want to escape, i want to blow up barricades. i don't know if that will ever change, i don't know if i'll feel differently in a year or two years' time. but for now, as far as i'm concerned, as far as my work is concerned, this is a political space.

and with sorrow, i dissent.

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pendingtomatoes · 3 days ago

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Kieran Duffy NSFW Headcanons

Beware, NSFW writing under the cut! Written by a trans man, but I've done my best to keep things gender-neutral. Also...kink things. You know that. I can't write vanilla sex. (Specifically: puppy play and praise kink)

Always blushing. No matter what, the tips of his ears will be burning, his face red and flushed down his neck to his chest.

Absolutely touch starved. Even innocent touches will make him flustered, never mind any touches that might promise more. Touch his fingers while he's handing you something and his ears will be burning.

Will get hard immediately and is incredibly embarrassed about it. Be it a dirty joke, a gentle touch or just a heated look, Kieran will be straining in his pants and hurrying to hide away somewhere.

Not only does he get hard at an almost alarming speed, but he also shoots off quickly. With some training, he'd be able to last longer, but luckily he enjoys overstimulation and will be able to cum at least twice.

Speaking of shooting quickly, he can and will cum in his pants from a particularly heated make-out session. He immensely enjoys pleasing his partner with his mouth and will rut against their leg while doing so, easily reaching orgasm from humping their leg or boot.

Into puppy play. I'm sorry but call this man a good pup and he will melt instantly. He's really shy about it at first, his partner having to stick to praising him and giving him scratches (especially behind the ears, he will forget how to speak, close his eyes and lean into it so hard he almost falls over). Over time, he starts to be more comfortable with it, happy to be led on a leash or to hump his partner's leg to earn his orgasm. Aside from that, he loves to sit at his partner's feet while they do something else, resting his head on their thigh and looking for pets.

Very averse to pain and humiliation (who would've guessed), so he needs a lot of praise and a lot of preparation if he's the one getting fucked.

Speaking of that, Kieran much prefers getting fucked. He's a bit self-conscious about his size (a bit smaller than average) and will only top if his partner is taking charge (though he does love it when they praise him during it, really boosting his self-esteem by telling him how good he fills them up and how nicely he fits).

Very easily goes non-verbal during sex. If he manages to say anything, it's all pleading or thanking his partner, but it's mostly just noises.

On the topic of noises, Kieran definitely whines nonstop. He'd try so hard to be quiet, but he can't hold his noises back, even if he's near camp. He will be mortified afterwards, but in the moment he is impossible to shut up. Even if gagged he will still somehow be loud. So naturally, everyone is going to tease him about it.

Overstimulate him enough and he will cry. If you keep going after he's cum twice he will be fully sobbing and begging to stop, but he will thank you profusely if you do indeed keep going (you will have to insist on setting a safe word with him, he can be quite unclear on if he actually needs to stop sometimes.)

Also definitely cries a little after sex. He loves the feeling of laying together afterwards and wants to be held close, and just feels so at peace he can't help himself.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 nsft #rdr2 smut #smut #headcanon #kieran duffy #kieran duffy x reader #character headcanons #kieran duffy headcanons #praise k!nk #puppy sub #crying during sex #and after #x reader #gender neutral nsft

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somanyfanficssolittletime · 3 hours ago

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you guys have truly created and started something beautiful with this write-a-thon server, and I'm so incredibly over the moon that me rambling about how much it means to me meant something to you both.

this event is what inspired me to actually write, sure I've done essays and short story's as school work, but I've never truly sat down and written something just for fun.

I was playing botw all summer and looking for fics when I stumbled across a LU fic, gave it a chance and read it, I *adored* the characters from the get go, searched it up and lo and behold, I found the comics. shortly after that I started interacting with the fandom a bit, relogging art and fics and somehow Cheeto noticed me tagged me in a ask game and that was so lovely and was some of my first interactions with people in the fandom, haha! (thank you Cheeto, it did and still does mean a lot that I got tagged adhgjdgf was really fun!) and like, within a week of me joining the fandom I got an ask about joining the write-a-thon discord.

its still one of the best things to happen to me, I think.

I've truly made some absolutely incredible friends in this server, and believe it or not, I'd never created memes or anything before the events either!!

anyway, I have a habit of rambling, sorry!!

I've learned a lot from participating and it truly is a highlight of my month to participate along side everyone :D

Hello all, its blue. now that the write-a-thon has ended, end I would like to take the time to thank everyone. first and foremost: the mods and team behind this, you are the real masterminds. you guys are all so amazing and doing so much work for this to go as smoothly as it has, you guys are insane and incredible, we love you all dearly<3. Writers: for writing and creating and being your wonderful selves, and- everyone here. to every one here: you are all such wonderful and so incredibly kind people. its such an honor to get the chance to create along side you all like this. there are so many of you that I admire so deeply, and I've had the chance to talk to you guys, I got to talk to some of my idols, guys!!!! that's downright insane!!! I have only ever had positive interactions with you all and I know I'm rambling at this point but its such a pleasure and privilege to be here with you all. thank you all for being here, and being friendly, laughing at my stupid edit, and finding the gifs I send funny, and maybe, maybe, even being my friends(!?) Linked Universe truly has changed my life for the better, and this server, for all of its "being open one day a month" glory, is such a big part of that. I've made so many friends in the short time I've been part of this fandom so far!! its crazy and beautiful and strange and I can 100% safely say that Linked Universe will always hold a special place in my heart. i didn't get much writing today, but i had so, so much fun speaking and joking around with you all.

every single on of you brings joy to this server, yes even if you don't talk much, you guys are noticed and loved.

i think its very safe to say that i care for all of you. the late nights laughing my ass of at Phil, soapy soup, puddings, grassy lawn nails, it has endeared you all very near and dear to my heart.

all this, to say thank you.

thank you for being so welcoming and sweet and so unwaveringly kind to me these past few months.

thank you for being the most beautiful human souls i have ever met.

thank you for existing on the same realm of existence as me, for you have all made life on this all that much better<3

I just realized this looks like I'm leaving the fandom or smth (which I'm not!! just to be clear) I just wanted to share my gratitude and thanks to each and every one of you.

Thank You.

i am sending Hugs, High-fives, and Good Vibes your way, along side my well wishes for all of your health's and well-beings.

(woof, sorry it got so long, guess i had a lot more thoughts then I realized, huh? )

I LOVE YOU ALL MWAH<33<33<33<33 YOU ARE ALL SO WONDERFULLY SPECTACULAR AND KIND AND AMAZING AND AHHHH- I DON'T HAVE THE WORDS BUT I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCHHHH AHHHH MWAH MWAH MWAH<3<3<3

#lu write a thon #mod appreciation #blues babbles #love you all so so so much #ahghff theres a reason my talking tag is “blues babbles” i tend to get of track real quick...#and this may make no sense #sorry #well-#not really sorry #wanted to get my appreciation across #but not sure if i did.#LU and the community surrounding it has changed my life for the better these past few months #its truly incredible.#y'all are amazing and incredible people<3 #mwah

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problems-exe · 5 months ago

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The Poem

The story of how Prim and Lu got together in the printerjamau

Wrote this a bit ago and decided it was about time I posted it. This is incredibly long, so I apologize for that, but for those interested in their story, I think it's worth the read.

Begins after the cut :]

The sound of the wind breezing through the desolate building rooftop does nothing to drown out the rapid beating of their soul.

Prim finds themselves sitting, not alone, but with a close friend. Listening to her ramble about the latest au she visited and the small bakery from which she had bought treats. The bag sitting at her side was long emptied, its contents having been eaten hours ago. Prim has found themselves a lot less alone lately.

Despite their best efforts, it's hard for them to focus on Lu’s rambles, distracted by the intense feeling of something in the air. Something about today felt distantly off. It wasn't unusual for the two to meet like this, a gift cradled in one of the skeleton's hands. But Lu had seemed so.. anxious when she asked them to meet. It was odd. She had seemed… flustered? Almost? But that wouldn't make any sense-

“Prim?” Lu pulled them out of their daze with the utterance of their name, a concerned and nervous expression on her face.

“Sorry, that wasn't that interesting, was it? I got a bit carried away…” She states, averting Prim's eyelights as a deep blush settles on her face, accentuated by the deep orangish-pinkish hues of the sun setting before them.

‘She looks so beautiful like this,’ Prim shoves that thought as soon as it crosses their mind, nervous glitches appearing up their body as they force themselves to refocus on the conversation again.

“Nah. Long day. Just zoned out.” Prim replies after a pause. A lie. And they know it's one. Their day had been fine, a typical day as any. They're always honest with her; why are they being like this now?

“Oh,” She sounded surprised, as if she had been expecting Prim to call her boring.

“I'm sorry, do you want to talk about it? I've been rambling on for a while…” She continues, looking back at Prim with a crooked smile. The usual squint of her eye sockets not present. Something was wrong. She'd been acting noticeably off all evening; they should have picked up on the pieces sooner. Prim was the worst person for something like this.

“Are- are you feeling alright? You seem.. upset.” Prim slowly gets out, thinking through the words before settling on them. Lu looks a bit startled at the question.

“I'm, um, yeah! Yeah, I'm alright, just-” She fumbles with her words for a moment, blush on her face darkening, and Prim's expression turns into a concerned frown.

“I wrote you something.” She continues, digging around in her bag for a split second before retrieving a clean, white envelope. Clasped shut with a cat sticker, the words “For Prim” written in cursive on the back. She bashfully presents the letter to Prim, and they momentarily gawk at it, carefully taking it from her hand. Careful to not get ink on it.

“You mentioned wanting to read one of my poems sometime, so..” *She adverts her gaze, voice trailing off at the end as Prim looks over the parchment presented to them. Their soul pounds in their chest, and they scramble to find balance in its weight. They stare at the small envelope, feeling deeply touched by the gesture. They reach to carefully remove the cat sticker before Lu's hands stop them.

“Don't, um, don't read it here. Read it when you get home. It'd feel embarrassing to watch you read it in front of me.” She states, with a nervous laugh, gently pulling her hands away. Prim nods carefully after a moment, slowly and delicately moving to place the parchment in their bag, careful not to bend it.

“I better get going now,” Lu interjects after watching Prim's bag close. They look up at her, surprised.

“Already?” They respond, concern still evident in their face.

“Yeah, I've got a long day tomorrow. I'll see you in a few days?” She responds, sounding hopeful, pleading almost.

“Obviously,” Prim responds immediately, worry still swirling in their chest.

“Right. Of course.” She states, as if reassuring herself.

“I'll see you then.” She continues, a tight smile on her face. She gives a wave of goodbye before disappearing into a portal, leaving Prim sitting alone. Surprised by the abruptness of it all.

They clutch at the strap to their bag, the featherlight weight of the envelope feeling heavy at their side. They're worried about what they'll find written in there. It's hard to fathom Lu acting so.. afraid over one of her poems. She'd sounded excited at the idea of sharing some with them when Prim had brought it up. Maybe she got cold feet? Even then…

Well, no point in speculating. They'll find out when they get home.

Prim sits for a moment longer, taking in the sunset one last time, attempting to calm their racing thoughts. After feeling more composed, they reluctantly rise to their feet, a tinge of anxiety gnawing at their chest.

Navigating through the usual motions of leaving a get-together like this, they slide one of their feet along the asphalt, leaving a trail of ink behind. They place their foot back next to the other, standing in place as the ink pools around them.

They begin to sink into the puddle, dragged into darkness for a split second before emerging in the cozy living room of their apartment, ink swiftly vanishing beneath them.

Taking a cautious step toward the nearby couch, they gingerly take a seat, pausing to take a deep breath. They turn their attention to the coffee table before them, using their hand to slide a few objects to the side, making room for the letter nestled in their bag.

Pausing once more to collect themselves, they carefully unfasten their bag, delicately reaching inside to withdraw the envelope. They stare at it pensively, toying with the small sticker that sealed it, a tiny yet almost taunting obstacle. They smooth the envelope with a thumb, using one hand to slowly and meticulously peel off the sticker, careful not to rip the parchment

They feel lost in their own little world, with nothing but themselves and the letter existing within the tranquil room. Unfurling the page from the envelope, they place the latter on the couch alongside them before setting the sheet down on the cleared space of the coffee table.

Their eyelights graze over the page, reading its contents carefully. It reads,

Prim,

I've written this poem for you to convey the words I've struggled to say aloud. I’m sorry for not finding the courage to tell you in person. As an artist yourself, I'm sure you understand that sometimes it's easier to express our emotions through our work.

I understand if my feelings aren't mutual; I know this must have come as a shock to you.

I just hope this doesn't change anything between us.

Yours Always,

Below this, begins the poem,

On a canvas brimming with vibrant dreams,

Where colors mix and blend with gentle grace,

I've etched our story, yours and mine,

In shades, that time will embrace.

Your smile, a brush of vibrant hue,

Turns every moment into radiant light,

And in your eyes, I find the clues,

To ignite my soul with a beautiful sight.

Each day with you, a masterstroke,

A blend of joy and true elation,

Your laughter dispels the shadows,

Bestowing me a profound sensation.

From twilight’s glow to dawn’s first rays,

My love’s a spectrum rich and rare,

In every shade, in every phase,

You're a masterpiece beyond compare.

With every brush and every stroke,

I craft a world where we could be,

A place where dreams and hearts intertwine,

A canvas created for you and me.

So I ask now, with hopeful heart,

To step inside this vivid scene,

To share a life, to play a part,

Will you be my love, my dream?

Prim sits in stunned silence, reading and rereading the words, page blurring as they attempt to process what they've just read. Lu likes them. Actually likes them. It's hard to comprehend. Why would Lu choose someone like them when she could have anyone she wanted? Lu's affection felt like a dream, too surreal to grasp.

The confession weighs heavily on Prim's chest, butterflies fluttering in their stomach. They're at a loss for words, mind racing with questions and uncertainty, but also a strong feeling of excitement that they can't push down. Their face turns a deep shade of cyan, magenta, and yellow as the realization sinks in. Lu likes them, and they like her. The words of the poem echo in their mind, evoking a soft smile. Despite being alone they start to feel embarrassed by their reaction, prompting them to pull their scarf up to cover their blushing cheeks as they read through the page once again.

A panic settles in as Prim suddenly realizes that they need to respond to Lu's confession. What do they say to her? Nothing they could say would come even close to matching what she had written for them. They never had been the best at expressing their emotions. But… Lu needed that right now. She deserved a proper response from Prim.

No wonder she had been so nervous earlier, she had poured her heart out to the inky skeleton. She's probably feeling as anxious as Prim does right now, waiting for their response.

Well, better not keep her waiting any longer.

They cast a final gaze at the poem before rising to their feet, letting their scarf fall from their face. They secure their bag firmly over their shoulder, one of their hands clasped around its strap. With unwavering determination, they proceed, ignoring their nerves.

They begin the familiar routine of creating a portal, their foot swiping across the ground with a trail of ink following in its wake. The ink gathers at their feet, pulling them into the encompassing darkness.

Upon emerging, they find themselves standing outside The Star Sanses’ base, as well as Lu's home. The Omega Timeline bathes everything in the glow of starlight, casting the surrounding area in a celestial glow. After countless visits, the building's layout is etched into their memory, allowing them to easily locate Lu's room from the outside, even in the darkness.

After a brief walk, they arrive at Lu's window, gazing up to get a glance at it. They can see her curtains partially drawn, revealing a few of her plants resting on the windowsill. Their nerves intensify as they turn their attention to the tall tree adjacent to her window. Taking a deep nervous breath, they begin the familiar climb. Despite having done this many times before, the weight of the moment makes their movements feel awkward and slow, taking longer than usual to ascend the tree.

Eventually, they settle on a sturdy branch, close enough to reach Lu's window. They pause for a moment, trying to calm their anxiety before tentatively tapping on the window and leaning back, waiting for Lu to open it.

Moments later, they catch a glimpse of Lu's face peeking through the curtains, her eyelights meeting theirs. Despite the dim lighting, her deep blush is unmistakable. With a soft click, the window unlocks and slides open, revealing Lu's head as she peeks through to see them clearly.

“What are you doing out here?” She asks, her voice filled with unease, a nervous expression on her face.

“Me too,” Prim responds quickly, their cheeks darkening as the words leave their mouth, realizing that their statement didn't quite make sense.

“...What?” Lu asks after a pause, her head tilted slightly in confusion, a slight laugh heard in her tone.

"I mean— I read the poem. Me too. I, um, I feel the same,” Prim stammers, avoiding Lu's gaze, turning their face away and tugging their scarf over their cheeks once more.

“Oh,” She breathes, surprise evident in her voice. There's another moment of silence, broken only by the chirping of the crickets and the rustle of the wind.

The air feels tight as the silence sits between them, Prim's soul pounding anxiously in their chest. They're starting to wonder if it was a bad idea coming here. What if they misunderstood the situation? What if they just messed everything up?

Gently, Lu's hand takes hold of Prim's arm, snapping them out of their thoughts; they timidly look up, finding Lu's gentle smile waiting for them. Prim feels the blush on their face deepen and forces themselves to not look away. It's hard to gauge her expression as Prim searches her face, but she doesn't appear to be upset. Lu tugs on their arm, and Prim understands the unspoken message. With Lu's help, they slowly make their way through the window and into her bedroom, landing softly on her carpet.

The silence doesn't last much longer once Prim is inside. Lu's expression is soft and adoring as she delicately takes Prim's hands, their eyelights meeting in a moment of quiet connection.

“...Really?” She asks, her voice gentle and hopeful. The look on her face leaves Prim feeling flustered, wondering how they had gotten so lucky. Prim nods, struggling to find the words, their throat tightening. Lu's smile widens.

“I want to hear you say it out loud, though,” Lu playfully pouts, her affectionate expression coaxing the words out of Prim. They feel like they'd do anything, as long as she continued to look at them like that.

“Yeah. Yeah, I, uhm…I like you. I have for a while now,” Prim responds, their voice slightly shaky. Lu's smile grows impossibly wider, her eyelights fuzzy at the edges, glistening with tears of joy.

“Will you be my partner, Prim?” Lu asks, her voice filled with hope and excitement.

“I'd like that,” Prim replies easily, their face flushed, gazing back at Lu with the same adoration.

“Cool,” She responds with a wet giggle, using one hand to wipe happy tears from her eye sockets.

“Cool,” Prim repeats, with a similarly elated expression. They gently replace Lu's hand with theirs, wiping the tears from her face. The two of them stay like that for a moment, silent, until Lu speaks again.

“May I..?” She asks, face flushed, eyelights flicking down to their mouth. Prim nods, and Lu leans in.

Yeah, coming here had been the right decision after all.

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